My struggle continues. School is a waste of time. For most of the day I just play the waiting game, and there is little organization. Two of my periods are outright “nothing,” two days a week there’s another 30-minute gap of “nothing,” and the last period of the day is a teacher who lets everyone slack off and leave early if they do their work and ask nicely, because seniors don’t actually care about English class that much.
After the bell rings, it’s impossible to leave by car due to traffic, so I wait thirty more minutes in the library, standing around, waiting for something to happen. I don’t want to do homework because I’m done with looking close. I want to look far, at the sky, at the people playing frisbee outside, not at the endless day-to-day homework always to be done.
Then, after the time has elapsed and I drive home, it is the same tedious routine. I’m exhausted, but I don’t want to lie down, so I turn on the computer. 10 minutes have passed since arriving somehow. I decide to get a snack. 15 more minutes have elapsed. It’s 5:00 now. I’ll start the forum run now. Check GitHub, Discord, Reddit, the blog, Cemetech, and perhaps Slack and some other forums. (Hah, imagine if I had Twitter or Snapchat. It would be torture managing all of that.)
It’s 5:25 now, I should start on the homework. Let’s check what homework I have. Uh, a little sidetracked finishing tasks from the forum run. It’s somewhere between 5:35 and 5:45 now. Let’s take out what I need to finish the homework. It’s 5:50 now.
Okay, so I’m done with the homework. It’s 7:00 now. I’m tired, don’t want to think, and there’s not much time until dinner, so I’m not inclined to work on a project. I go on YouTube instead and see if there’s anything new. Eh, this video is 20 minutes, so I scrub around and skip to what seem to be the important parts. It’s 7:25 now, and my parents have arrived. In order to not have to explain a great deal of things to my parents, I keep a high privacy barrier, so I limit what I do around them. (Despite me working from my room, you can see my monitor from the living room at the correct angle, and sound often escapes easily when the door is wide open.)
It’s 7:35 and my parents are now bugging me on what to eat. If it’s my dad asking, he usually will take words from me or cook something himself, but if it’s my mother, she will force me to get off the computer (she absolutely loves doing that, because she believes the computer is the root of all of the problems in the family), open the freezer, and rummage through the “large variety of options” while implicitly scolding me for not using my head (obviously because of the computer). If I make any retort at all, she asks, “Why are you angry at me? I’ve done nothing wrong to you.” and demands an explanation. If I do not provide any explanation, she will answer the question for me, often giving an explanation revolving around “the computer” (while seldom mentioning that trigger word).
It’s around 7:55 and I am five minutes late for dinner, because when my dad yells “time to eat,” it is almost never clear whether the food is actually ready or if it is only “a few seconds” to finish.
The next few parts depend on the day of the week. My father is extremely traditional, so if my brother is present or by coincidence everyone is about to begin eating, he will ask me or my brother to pray. Fine. On Fridays, my mother does not eat anything. At all. She justifies it as “fasting,” but I have not seen anything gained from such persistent fasting. Another justification is, “many of my clothes do not fit me anymore,” which probably means her frame is changing from age given how little she eats at the moment, not that she needs to take extreme measure to eat even less. (Solution: Spend money and buy clothes that fit.)
For the next 30 minutes, we watch a Catholic-related program or documentary. Sometimes the content is boring and cursory; other times, it is relatively interesting. Nevertheless, the most irritating part is the fact that my parents do this without warning. I have not watched a secular TV show or movie with my mom in years. She spends the majority of her time in seclusion, reading Catholic books, accounts, and meditations, often in a bathroom with the lights off.
It is now 8:40. My choices are limited. I end up staying on the computer until 9:40, until which I get around to gathering clothes to shower. It’s 9:50 now and too close to 10:00. Oops. (I had agreed not to shower after ten.)
At 10:00, I am too exhausted to work efficiently, so things are slow. At 10:30, I brush my teeth, go over the Anki deck, and say my prayers. By 11, I’m in bed and trying to sleep.
The next day starts a few minutes before 7:00 (either woken up by parents or by alarm clock). I am again encumbered by my cat, who wants to be touched everywhere in exchange for licking my hands. I leave for school at 8:00, and the torture begins once more.
My classmates ignore me. I act like a ghost, moping around everywhere. The only times they don’t ignore me are when I get a test or quiz back and they want to see my grade, when they need tech support, when they want to make a point against someone else by sampling my opinion, or if something serious happens to me (like an injury, which has never occurred).
There’s nothing important here. AP exams are coming in three weeks and I’m not ready for them at all. I’ll be lucky to get a 3 on the Japanese exam, I haven’t started reviewing for AP Gov (which I took last semester), and I haven’t studied crap for the CompTIA Security+ exam in 6 weeks. Too much dead time everywhere.
My parents don’t care that I have possible hypertension and need to go to a doctor to determine a solution, or that I need to go to the orthodontist to fix my open bite, or that I need to go to a psychologist to sort this mess out, stop my anxiety, and make me stop writing rants about how I don’t like life how it is right now and how I think it’s not going to change at all in the future. No, they don’t care. They’d rather have me set up the appointments and then make me suffer as I look at my dad wipe sweat from his forehead and adjust his glasses as he examines the tall, tall bills and contemplates what exactly he can cut this month so it can fit the budget. Then he sets it aside, dismisses me, and starts watching Battlefield videos again or goes upstairs.
“Honor your father and your mother.” Because complaining is a mortal sin. My life is just one big sin. Why should I study AI: so that I can build a sentient machine that I can just send my brain and consciousness over to and become the next GLaDOS, enslave the human race and rule the universe? As much as I want to do that, it’s likely someone will beat me to it. After all, someone already did beat me to being better than me, using the exact same time and resources as me.
The whole notion of being “better” than someone is bunk anyway. We all just want to feel good about ourselves in spite of not succeeding as much as others, so we try to soften up words and phrases so we still feel good when we don’t succeed. “Oh, that college is missing out on you.” “Don’t worry, it’s just the beginning. You’ll have more chances later.” “That person had X, Y, and Z. You couldn’t compete anyway.” “So what?” “At least you tried.”
The storm is going to blow over soon, and I know someone will find out about what I’ve been writing here very, very soon. For this reason, I am keeping backups in case someone asks me to delete everything on the spot. Not on my watch, no sir, you’re not going to delete 60,000 words with a few strong ones of your own.