Thoroughly Unremarkable

School. I just can’t do it anymore. I am depressed. Usually at this time of year I’m all smiles, but not now. Chemistry. My gosh, I just want to strangle that freak. Making fun of her isn’t amusing anymore, either. I just want out.

And then there’s math, which I am completely sucking in because I can’t be bothered to do any homework. I sit down to do it, get confused, frustrated, and then I stop. It’s naive and immature but I’ve decided just to figure it out over the weekend and tread water until then.

English class is still just stupid.

I’m just so tired of the routine, of counting down the number of seconds (two-hundred and seventy thousand, nine-hundred) more I have to spend sitting in this hell-hole.

Walking among the masses at Beaverbrook, I just wish that I were special in some way. Something so unique, perhaps supernatural, and no one would even need to know about it. Telekinesis, maybe. Or just to be astronomically smart. Or pretty. Just anything. A light that I’d be able to hold on to. So I could smile as I walk down those halls and think ‘I could stand out’. But I think the truth here is that I’ll never be the only. I am simply, thoroughly unremarkable.

School is depressing me. I never think about things like this during the summer.