I must admit that life was slowly looking up for me. My therapist even told me that I didn't have to come to sessions anymore. In some ways I was grateful that I was finally declared "normal" in the sense, but that was exactly what I was fighting against in the first place. I have to be the biggest bigot there is to have graced the earth.

The race I hate the most: humans.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate anybody. On the contrary, I love everyone I've ever met, but I just don't like the human race in general. And here I start generalizing which is, again, what I have been striving against for years. I'm not only the biggest bigot but I've got to be the most hypocritical person there ever was too.

I'm either truly cynical or filled to the brim with sarcasm.

I sit here typing this in my newly cleaned room when I should be doing my homework. My computer chair is exceptionally better than the beat down one I had before Christmas that I photographed and titled "Decrepid Life." The poor thing was on its last legs...literally. So I've got a new one and it comes in handy in several differnent ways: I can stand on it to reach my shelves being the short person I am, it is very nice to sit in, and the best thing about this new chair is that I can talk about it in this short story I'm writing to bore the inferiors who think just because I'm talking about a computer chair this has got to be the most retarded thing they have ever read.

I don't blame them.

The chair has nothing to do with my cynisism nor my sarcasm. It's something to destract the others so they put down this paper and walk away. I wouldn't want to offend them. Now that we've established who has an ounce of concentration, let's continue. The title: "Random Thoughts from a Cynical Student." It really has no meaning. I thought it up in a matter of seconds. Truth be told I didn't plan this little essay either; I'm just typing as I go. But isn't that sometimes the best way to write? To let everything out of your system to see what flows from the mind before you look back over it and critizise? If inspiration isn't milked the first time it comes what's going to happen the second? Pretty soon it will be ignored completely and not one bit of creativeness will seep through.

I'm not trying to say I'm creative though.

All I'm saying is that when the opportunity arises take advantage of it before it slips through your fingers. Jack London once said, "Do not sit and invite inspiration. Light out after it with a club." That is one of the best pieces of advice to any potential writer, artist, musicain, or any person in general. We could all use some originality once in a while.

Yes, I'm being cryptic again.

In my opinion the world has become a pathetic place to live. We're all just a copy of a copy of a copy. What I despise the most is being the same. I have seriously considered pounding anyone's head in that says I remind them of someone. But being the non-violent person that I am physically I refrain from such childish irrationality. I only speak of slaughtering the human race; I wouldn't though...or so I say.

Again, I'm probably the most indecisive of our peoples.

Give me some valid reason and I will host a mental debate for hours against myself. I'm not saying that I'm easily persuaded or in any way gullible but I will give serious thought to a topic provided the details given are not the most ignorant I have ever heard. For example a friend of mine claimed that the school lunch was, in fact, roadkill. I asked where he got this idea and he expects me to believe him when he points to his head and says, "All in here." Yes, of course I will believe anything that is concocted in your vast imagination...Again, don't get the wrong idea about me and say that I'm cruel (I believe we've decided cynical) I don't try to be mean; I only want to be honest and express my opinion freely without any assumptions or judgements from anyone else.

Again, I have to be the most sarcastic hypocrite.

I dish out judgements and assumptions left and right all the while claiming that's what I despise. But I at least admit my mistakes. Most of them. I at least have the sense to know that I am being hypocritical. I suppose your wondering where I'm going with all of this nonsense. I'll give you the truth; I'm going nowhere with it. I'm rather impressed you've put up with me thus far so I wouldn't blame you if you quit reading now. This is only a way for me to finally put down what has been swirling around in my mind for ages onto paper. I thought that maybe if I get it all out that it might let me sleep at night but, alas, it just makes me think of more complete randomness to put down the next morning.

In all seriousness I should be doing my homework right now.

My sincierest apoligies to any teacher reading this. Turn away, this might hurt. I find no use for homework. Again, don't make assupmtions, I said I find no use for homework; that doesn't mean I don't do it. On the contrary, I do all of my homework. Just not at home. Do not let yourselves fall into the grievious pit of procrastination. It may get the job done for me but it's not always fun rushing to finish my art assignment the hour before it's due. Now don't think I rush and make my work sloppy either; I'm a straight 'A' student and manage to finish everything quite capably.

I'm not bragging either.

I've just been into the habit of waiting the hour before that I know exactly when to start my homework and can allow myself ample time to finish it correctly. That still doesn't make procrastinating any better though. I find that it's a great relief to finish something early; it takes all that added pressure off of your shoulders and makes for good free time.

Not that I don't have enough already.

Maybe that's the reason I don't do my work; I have too much free time and I'm too bored to do anything in particular. Ah, the joys of life. But I shouldn't be complaining, I've got a better life than many and I shouldn't take for granted what I've been blessed with. It's hard though when all your used to depression and frustration. It was like a great weight was taken from my back and I was able to walk when I looked at what I did have instead of what I didn't. I learned to at least try not to be selfish and put my feelings out in the open instead of hiding them and keeping the burden to myself.

I still don't let people glimpse the real me though.

I'm either afraid of what they'll think or I don't even know who I am. It's probably a little bit of both but I'm allowed to be a little insecure, right? There are few people I trust enough to actually talk to and let my feelings be known with. I don't even trust my parents. All they have been doing is spinning a web of deceit using my brother and me as the little flies. I think my brother is the only one I can really talk to. He has been the most stable thing in my life and I can't ever forget that. When our parents weren't really there for us, when we stayed with other family members, or just when we felt betrayed we always had each other. I've never really told him how much he means to me either and I hope I get the chance to before my ride ends.

Speaking of rides, I went on a little emotional roller coaster there.

Sorry for getting sappy; I'll try not to let it happen again. I'll try to keep my rough, cynical outer shell up for your well being. But, like I was saying, I don't trust anyone. I've been lied to and knocked down too many times to fall for anymore tricks. Of course, that means I'm subconciously distancing myself from others. I may not look the stereotypical 'loner' type but if you pay close enough attention I never do nor say anything remotely personal or directed towards my life. To put it simply, I rely on others happiness to keep me going. I'll do my best to make others laugh or get them to congragulate me just so I can feel better myself.

Does that make me selfish?

I hope it doesn't but now that I look at it, it makes me think that I am. I guess no matter how many times I say that I hate people there is no way I could be happy if they were gone. I practically thrive off of other's praise. I certainly don't recieve any from my father and my mother thinks everything I do is some great gift to the earth. All I want is some constructive crticism. On what? Anything. Anything that has to do with my work, my life, my attitude, my personality, just anthing. And I only get it from people who probably don't give a damn about me one way or the other.

I guess I'm really just striving to be different while I'm trying to be the same.

My therapist said that I was well adjusted and that I had the best coping skills she'd ever seen in a fourteen-year-old. But I guess she never caught those insecurities that I'm just now finding out as I type. Now that I've started I can't decide if I really am unique like everyone says or if I'm just trying to be like everybody else. I suppose it's another sleepless night of contemplating.

Not that I get much sleep anyway.

I told you that I'm a procrastinator. I even put off sleeping until the last available second. Another great example of my hypocracy: I hate having to go to sleep but once dreaming I never want to wake up. Who does though? Dreams are the one place you can actually be safe and happy if you so wish it. Where all your fantasies come to life for but a second. Who would want to leave that? Are we really just living someone else's dream right now?

But even dreams have their limits.

Eventually you have to wake up and realize it was just false happiness that you can only hope for and it you weren't depressed before then that sure will put you down. And I guess only those gifted enough to get past their dreams are the ones who can truly be happy. It's that fine line of distinguishing what you should believe and what you should give up believing. To be honest, it's great to have dreams and aspirations but what's the point of a fairy tale land being stomped out again and again just so you can hope that it comes true?

Now, I really should do my homework.

I hope I haven't bored you too much with this complete and utter randomness that was pulled straight from my head and put directly onto the screen. I won't be changing anything either. Unless I catch (keyword: catch) any grammatical or spelling errors your reading exactly what is constantly whirring through my mind. Why?

Because complete strangers are the best people to share your lives and thoughts with.

It doesn't matter what they think about you; you probably won't ever see them, hear from them, or talk to them enough to care about their opinion of you. The few people that I do know that are reading this: feel lucky because I won't let just anyone get their mortal hands on this; mostly just people I don't know. Take pride in being one of the few that I entrust this most sacred of documents that I feel worthy enough to let your eyes rest on.

If you made it thus far without giving up I commend you on a job well done for reading complete random rubbish. But wait! What if this is a truly a genious peice of writing? Or maybe it's just mediocre. Whichever the case I'm proud of you. You stuck with me through the entirity of this very short pice of writing and if you didn't catch all the times I contadicted myself that will make for a great game some rainy day.