My eighth grade year is almost done. Soon, I'll be in high school. It's so surreal. I'm so panicked at the same time though. I'm in all advanced classes and I understand the work. Until I have an assignment or test. I can easily keep up in class and understand what's being said, but ask me what lead to the Russian revolution, I'll draw a blank. My teachers say I'm so smart and talented, I just have to work a bit harder. I know that's not true though. I'm good at the fine arts. Things like show choir, oral interp, the school's annual musical, those are the things I'm good at. I thrive on stage. Nothing feels better than hearing the audience clapping and cheering at the end of a show or performance, or getting a superior ribbon at an oral interp competition. Those are the types of things I want to do. I want to work in the theatre. The fine arts are my life, they're what I live for. It's hard to make money doing that though. So instead, I tell everyone I want to be a forensic scientist. That would be cool I guess. I would never be able to though. But, it's more realistic. I know I've said it before, but people just seem to either expect too much of me or not believe in me at all.
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A Message To Society
De TodoMy book of rants. From school, to LGBT, to equal rights in general. Enjoy ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ This is my first story, well, not really story, but anyway it's the first thing I've ever posted, so I'm really sorry if it's terrible...
