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Eighth grade thesis. (EDIT)Category: (general)
Friday, 20 May 2011
12:27:59 AM (GMT)
I only called it an edit because my middle and last names were used in it and I DUN
WANT YOU CREEPERS COMING AFTER ME.


You know when you answer the phone, and it’s a private number and you ask,
“Who’s this”? Your answer is usually the caller’s name. But just by telling
you their name doesn’t tell you who they really are. If they were to answer by
reading you their auto-biography, then you may have an idea who they actually are.
Well, you called. And here I am, telling you who I was, who I am, and how much I put
myself through to get here.

	Before I turned ten, I was always the same. I was Shay, the girl who stood out. I
used to be that kid who could show up anywhere, and be instantly welcomed. People
used to see a crazy, fun, sweet little girl when they saw me. They would listen when
I spoke. Whenever I did anything for anyone, I’d go all out; above and beyond and
do the best that I could. I was never sassy with my parents and usually did what they
said when they said it. Most of all, I had a creative spark. I would do the coolest,
most clever things I could think of. I would build these cardboard gumball machines
off the kitchen table to roll little clay balls through. I built forts out of the
couch cushions and pretended they were boats. I was always the girl who drew pictures
in class of aliens and a dancing peanut named Carmen and every time I wrote
something, it was so spontaneous. But in the last four years, I may have lost it
all.

	One of my favorite DJ’s once said in a song, “Man may choose the path he
follows. But it’s direction may at times not be what it seems.” and he was
totally right. Because four years ago, I chose the path that I thought would take me
to high school without becoming what I am today. Sure, over the years, I’ve become
a great artist (on occasion), a fairly good dancer, and an okay drummer. Those are my
three D’s. Drawing, Drumming, and Dancing. But like I said. I’m not who I used to
be. To be honest, I really miss the old Shay. Since 2007, I’ve lost that creative
spark. Every time I wake it up, it somehow messes up and I get in trouble. “Shay,
you’re more mature than that.” “Shay you know better.” I speak out, rather
than keeping to myself like the 10 year old me did. I’ve wanted to be alone more
often. Solitude is really the only thing I’ve wanted. Remember those random
longings? You’ll be at school, and then say to yourself, “Know what? I really,
REALLY want to go play Shaun White Skateboarding.” and you make it your number  one
priority to go and do that the second you have a chance to. But I never really,
REALLY want to do anything. My grades have been slipping horribly. I’ve turned into
this beast, and inside, the little girl I used to be wants to come out and show
everyone that I’m still here. That even though there’s this scary, mean girl on
the outside who is starting more and more to be like all the other jerks she knows,
there is the sweet and loveable girl inside hiding from the monster so she doesn’t
turnout just like the scary one. To put it bluntly, I’m just… not Shay anymore.

	What evil scientist could have done this? I have a few things to blame. Of course,
the internet gave me the hardstyle skills. And drawing came from countless hours of
what Mr. Collins used to call “constructive doodling”. The drumming came from
private lessons my  awesome drum teacher and good friend, Rick Murphy. But all the
other bad qualities I carry now. Those came from a few things. For one, my family did
this. First of all, my  twin brother, Dalton, has annoyed me so far down the rope
that I’ve become strong, mean, and repulsive because of how much I’ve had to get
him to stop coming near me and touching me and waking me up on Sunday mornings at
five thirty to watch him play Halo. Another thing, which I won’t mention
specifically, has ripped bits and bits of my life away since the end of third grade.
It tore away at me, taking up eighty percent of my thoughts, my drawings, and
everything I wrote. Even now, not as much as before, I still think about it, and how
I can change the mistake I made five years ago. This practically drove me crazy. It
made me lose hours and hours of sleep. It also made me shy and less outgoing as I
used to be. Thirdly, middle school itself did some heavy damage, or should I say, it
definitely left a print on me. Sixth grade scared the living heck out of me. Seventh
grade made me a little more like the snotty, mean cliché teenager you see on TV. And
eighth grade stressed me out so much that at some points I just gave up. Middle
school had it’s ups and downs. It was a great experience, but it will leave its
scars. I know I sound like the stereotyped depressed, emo kid who hates her life and
wish she could crawl in a hole and die, but I’m not. I just need to get off the
path that I thought would make me successful. It won’t be easy, but I know that
with the right guidance, which I think I’ve found, I can get off this path to hell
and get back to where I need to be.

	So all in all, I used to be awesome. It didn’t take long for me to become the
lousy kid I am today. But the old me will be back. I can feel it. I know high school
won’t be easy, but I’m going to have to endure it. I have three honors classes,
and I don’t plan on taking them as seriously as the classes I have now, which I
really don’t take all that seriously. I want the Shay I enjoyed being back, and
I’ll stop at nothing to get her.


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