Many Musings of Aarushi

It's funny, but I think sometimes forces of nature make a huge difference. Today, I was in an awful mood as I was walking home. I'd just had a fight with two of my friends. Both: involved me being shouted at, loudly. and Both: compelled me to take a minute in the hallway with a friend. Did I mention it's my birthday? well not exactly my birthday. but a day leading up to it. And in my mind, you're birthday sits dead center on a week and there is a buffer around it where everyone has to at least hold their tongue around you.

It's silly. But it's true. And I felt hurt, and sad and I didn't know what to do, because I don't think it was justified in the situations I was placed in for someone to be angry with me at all. I know it's stupid and silly and seems biased but I didn't see the point. My friend, okay, said that my diary wouldn't have an effect on someone if it were published and it wouldn't hold lessons. And I don't know, but I was hurt. And I have been, by this person before, been hurt in such a way. I mean, I know it's not meant to hurt anything, but it feels like a put-down. I mean, it's not like I think that I'm like, the best writer in the world or the smartest or even the most dramatic. But I at least think that it might affect someone in someway. That maybe someway, someone could be inspired by it. I mean, it's only what I always wished. That maybe my plight could lighten someone elses, in some way at least. I would hope that's what I'm doing here. But I have no way of knowing what others feel when they read this. I mean, I'm not clairvoyant, but I don't know, I wish to believe that people read this and are enlightened, or impressed or at least entertained.

So I told her that I didn't wish to speak to her any more. And this of course makes her very angry, because she feels as if I'm taking her words too personally. What an effect words have. BECAUSE IT REALLY DOES MATTER. I swear, it may not seem like it, but every fucking thing you do affects someone else. Always always always remember that. It doesn't even matter if you were trying to or not, but you'll always affect someone else. Because there's always someone paying attention, someone who hears...

So anyway, the other was something more trivial. Apparently, I was being annoying or something because I was sticking up for someone else and telling my other friend to stop being mean to someone. So this wonderful class culminated in me being yelled at by two people simultaneously in the same French class, in front of everyone. I'm sure as hell, that no one really cared, and it's a good thing that I can handle embarrassment well.

I just left the room. Which was okay. Because we had a sub, who told us to talk until our French teacher came from the other school. (Because of a tornado warning we had. We had all speculated, even having to sit with our backs against a cold brick wall.) I saw my friend Sarah at her locker and we had a chat, which shedded some much-needed perspective ("Well at least they won't be at your birthday party!") Even my math teacher saw us and asked us what we were doing, also telling me that the word was out that Aarushi's upset. (It's just like me. Everything about me is just bigger, more dramatic. Other people have fights with their friends subtley, but oh-no. not me. I have to get bitched at in front of the whole damn class.)

But people like me don't let our embarrassment show, we hold it in and our heads up. So I went back to class, past my friends and sat down and read the Kurt Cobain Journals. The people stared, but they lost interest, because I'm not really that interesting. So I sat and read the original version of Smells like Teen Spirit, until our teacher finally came. We ended French and I was still incredibly hurt. I maintained a civil face until I left school, because the tornado lockin doesn't apply to people who live next door to the school. It was okay out, a little damp. The winds were strong but only enough to blow your hair, which was in pigtails and didn't really care.

So, I, still in one of my moods akin to the famous APT self-decided-outside-solitary-confinement-with-iPod episode last summer at Shakespeare camp, sat on my front lawn with my backpack and my notebook, a pen and the Cobain journals. It's just a thing I do. I go outside and write. Usually on gray, slightly windy days, like today.

I wrote about my atmosphere using metaphors of course, because it woulda been stupid to write a poem or song or whatever about sitting on your lawn in your chucks with your notebook. But suddenly my need for metaphors disappeared as the wind blew, which didn't scare me, because, when you're in a bad mood, the weather conditions don't matter. So I wrote and as the thunder started to rumble and the lightning began to bolt, I wrote faster. The weather reflecting my mood so I wouldn't have to. I just wrote and wrote, letting the narration of weather be the narration of my life. The wind blew and the rain poured and the hail hit and my notebook just kept getting wetter. But it still contained it. I realized that I might get attacked by my own rubbish bin, so I opened the garage and ran in. I soaked in a bit of heat, putting on the song, Reign O'er Me by the Who and sitting on my porch steps, still writing. Sifting my thoughts straight through my pen. I didn't even have to chew on the back of my pen. It was just so urgent that I had to get it out. And the rain and storm compelled me as did Keith Moon's drumming and I had to keep going no matter how cold it was, because it was what I was being told. By the weather, which forced me, which needed me to keep on writing. So I could rid myself of anger, so I could gain something.

I feel like, I don't know, I wouldn't have had that same Musical-Rainy Epiphany thing if it hadn't been raining and I hadn't been outside. But I always felt like, the weather affected my moods, or my moods affected the weather. I mean it was sunny, but as I grew sadder and madder, it just erupted outside, as I began to feel more detached from my emotions. Almost like the storm was taking it with it. The song ended and I was finished writing and the storm had ended. And so had my tears.