by Jillian Silva

This piece originally ran in Read This!, a literary magazine written and edited by high school students from San Lorenzo High School, ranging in age from 14 to 18 years old. This issue of Read This! was designed at 826 Valencia with the help of our tutors and volunteers.

If I can’t make myself happy ... then when will I find happiness? Drug affiliation isn’t the answer because it brings you up 40 times over and down 60 times under. It’s two steps forward and three steps back. Artificial, degrading, and happiness. So if I can’t pull myself out of anger with will, then how will I show people that I don’t mean what I say when I’m in that mood? I hate the fact that I annoy / hurt / craze the ones I care about and love. So why is it that I got stuck with the feeling of numbness until I realize how much I really have and then I feel it all at once ... until I stop thinking and I’m numb again ... greed ... I believe selfishness almost wants to ask others to tell me everything ... tell me how they feel about me so I’m not misled ... tell me how much they care about me so that it hits me harder with what I have ... but don’t do this all at once cause a huge lump sum hits hard and can have a good and or bad effect ... and slowly it will go away from that feeling ... into numbness again. And another thing I wonder is why is it I’m numb now ... within my head I so many emotions I can’t comprehend them ... but they’re not there unless I focus on them and realize that they are present. Other than that I get stuck in a childish emotion, lately being awe (such as love ... I love everyone because I love people). Or hatred ... because I’m hypocritical and I hate a majority of people ... and this is when I once again contradict myself into saying that I DON’T hate people because hatred isn’t within me ... It’s just so easy to say ... so I feel the only thing I’m thinking and can’t help right now is getting hit in the face with a brick whether it’s metaphorical or physical. Both will help me understand a full emotion ... I’ll finally realize how I looked before my face was broken into little pieces ... and wish I had myself back ... or I’ll realize what I have and don’t have again but be at a loss for words because I can’t respond with anything equivalent to anything anyone has to say. Good or bad. Opinions. But I don’t want any of this at the same time because once stated, it loses its meaning ... it’s begged for ... I hate being a beggar.