Pressure.
Monday, 11/05/01 - 9:34 a.m..

Yesterday, I was watching "classic" videos...George Michael's Freedom, Nirvana's smells like teen spirit, Peter Gabriel's Sledgehammer....that was good ol' Mtv. Yesterday I listened to some good stuff (yes, besides Aerosmith). Guns n' Roses' Patience came on the radio yesterday, while I was in the car with Alan. He started singing it. I love some GNR's songs. All of the singles, that is. I've never listened to any of their albums. Carmen loves GNR. I love this father-son relationship between Aerosmith and GNR during the tour when GNR was opening for the Boys. I wish I'd been there.

So, what's up? asks myself to myself. I've been studying the whole weekend. Again. It's getting more annoying than already is. The simple idea of studying is annoying. Now, to study what you've learned in three months, in 8 subjects is even worse. The fact that school gives you five days (including the weekend) of "vacation" to study might sound pleasant, but it is not. You get fed up of studying very soon. You get desperate and you just want get the fuck out of exams. I can't even wake up late. It was 7:30 and here I was, in front of the computer, working. When Carlos got up, he stared at me and asked: you on vacation, already?. No, I'm not on vacation yet. Funny. He didn't even know that I was staying home. He thought I was at school.

Veronica came over yesterday. We just studied and talked about how nervous we were about all this school shit we're going through. She left me a note, saying how sorry she was for all the things she's done to me and Carmen. I accepted to have her over because I study math better when I'm with someone. No other reason. I treat her like any other friend of mine, the word "best" does not match with her friendship anymore. I wasn't expecting we'd talk about anything. I just let her come (she asked me to) to study.

Today is Alan's 30th birthday. Man, my brothers are getting old. Yesterday we went to this theme-restaurant to celebrate. The theme was football soccer, but also had some stuff about other sports. It was a mix between sports and some kind of "viking" enviroment. Near our table, there was this group of teenagers...I just couldn't help myself and did a little analysis...about 7-10 teenagers, boys and girls. They were watching the soccer match. The normal teenager: good-looking, all dressed up, with boyfriend/girlfriend. Everytime their team was about to score or failed, they screamed. When the team finally scored, they celebrated and screamed and stuff (so did everybody else, even the waiters). I caught myself with an ok, what do we win with that? face. There was this girl who was wearing the shirt of the team...but for what I could see, she had no idea of what was going on. Her wearing the shirt of the "in" team was pure fashion. Every ten minutes, two or three new people'd show up. The girls looked so skinny. I could've sworn that at least three of them were anorexic. But hey, they had boyfriend. In the middle of my meal, I turn my head to the table and oh, God...there's this couple french-kissing. A french kiss is nothing bad. But I was eating a long sausage when I turned my head, and I thought that maybe while they were kissing, they'd be thinking of sausages. But the other kind. Plus, it reminded me of my guy and me. One girl had such an annoying laughter. Well, I know. Seeing a couple of kids having fun is nothing out of this world. But you could see that this is the kind of teenagers who don't give a fuck and have no clue about life. I know because I knew a guy who was in that group. I met him in english classes, a few years ago. He's truly a 8 year-old kid trapped in the body of a 17 year old guy. The face, the voice and the childish attitude. And the girls that were there...they all were looking so hot and having this hypocrite smile toward the others, while it was easy to notice they were thinking: I'm soooo better than you.

On our way down (again, we went up the hills) after we left the restaurant I was thinking about that "special someone" everybody wishes for. Someone said (someone famous & wise, but I don't remember who it was) something like "up there" we're created but after they send us down, they rip us apart, so one half falls somewhere and the other half falls somewhere else, and that's why we feel we're missing something...that "someone". Then after I thought that, I came up with this idea: that may be true.

Duh.

No, wait, that's the intro to my idea. That may be true, but many of us might have our other half in the other side of the world, in a way that it's impossible for us to ever get to know that someone. So, we find someone who we believe it's the right person and we get used to that someone, making ourselves believe that there's no better than that person. Although maybe a hundred miles away, there's the right one for us. Ok, I hope at least you get the idea of what I mean.

I just finished reading this book about a guy who one day wakes up and finds out he's transformed into a bug...Metamorphosis, that's the name of it. It's a weird reading. It's a bit tragic and sad, too.

I'm worried. I'm really worried. I know I won't stop worrying until november 25th, when I finally get to see Behind The Music: Aerosmith. No, seriously. Many of my classmates are in danger. English and math can kick you out of school, and as Fidel told me, those are the only subjects that get people thrown out of school in 1st year of high school (that's junior high for you). Veronica is worried about english and about Clown, her boyfriend. He's already out but he can write a letter to the school and "appeal". From 30-35 people that are already out this year, only five have been considered by school ("the administration") to let them appeal. Clown is one of them. Carmen is really worried about math. My guy....my guy is worried about both. And I can't help him. I'm really worried about him. So, this is the exams week. Next saturday school releases the grades. That's when I'll find out what happens with Veronica, Carmen & the guy (if they pass, thank God. If they fail...summer school...if they fail summer school...I won't see them next year....that can't fuckin' happen). Then, next week, school replies to the appeal of the ones who failed 3 subjects or more. God, this is fuckin' horrible.

Alan said that first I have to worry about me, and then worry about the others. I do both at the same time. But I know, I'm also worried about myself, that's why I keep studying. I know what Alan says sounds a bit selfish, but it's true. Everybody is on his own in this. No matter how much people help you studying. In the exam, it's just you and what you learned.

I'll go to study. I don't want to, but there's this fuckin' pressure in the air and within myself that I don't know exactly where it's coming from but it's driving me nuts...as if the voices in my head weren't enough.

I wish a happy, happy birthday to my brother, Alan. Happy-happy-joy-joy.

The philosophical question that every existentialist person should ask is can one opt for commiting suicide?

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