I’ve done everything I can to make life in Boone work for me. I’ve done all that I can without running away from anything. I’ve tried to make the most of everything even when things didn’t turn out to be the magical fairy tale that I had envisioned. I’ve tried to keep it going even when I’ve ever wanted to do was to just lay down in bed and cry my eyes out.
I thought I was being strong. I thought I was being brave. I thought I was doing everything I can to be normal and not some neurotic mess who can’t deal with reality.
I’ve kept so many things bottled up inside of me and now it’s all surging inside of me. Including all my anger and hatred, two things I never wanted to experience again. I’m losing my calm. I don’t feel so composed. And I can’t hold anything in anymore. I can feel it all rising to the surface for an explosive release. It’s an inevitability. It feels like a force of nature is inside of me. It’s something I can’t fight against. So, it’s something I feel like I should embrace. And the best part about it is that I know, for a fact, it’s not one of my usual Nightmares.
My time here at Appalachian State hasn’t been the most glamorous. Nothing has been what I envisioned before my transfer. But I endured it. I’ve become stronger. I’ve changed, and it came at a great cost.
I hate it here. I hate Appalachian State. I hate Boone. I hate every single person I’ve ever met in this bumfuck piece of shit town. I hate Mike for just fading away from my life, for not fighting to keep me around. I hate what’s become of me during my time here. I hate being away from my friends and family in Charlotte. I hate that the world moved on without me after I left home.
I hate putting off what I want to do for the things that I have to do. I hate being a career student. I hate my friends who’ve never kept in touch with me. I hate having to pursue a degree that requires me to be “realistic” so I can have a “practical” career. I hate having to learn things when all I’ve ever wanted to do is to be a novelist. I hate, I hate, and I hate even more.
I still want to be a novelist. I want to do what the stereotypical writer does. I want to spend my days in café’s filling out pages without a care in the world. I want to be spend my time with my imaginary friends and go on imaginary adventures, claiming victories in the imaginary battles I have within. I want to live by my namesake, Pen, and rewrite my fate into one where there are no Nightmares or compromising myself.
I want to be around people who aren’t a bunch of whiny, sniveling, snowflake bitches that need to be hooked on drugs or opposed to everything just to pass of as interesting. I want to be visible. I want to be heard. I want to matter to someone besides my family. I want to be true to myself. I want a reality where I don’t have to run away from everything. I want to take revenge against the reality that has tried endlessly to destroy me, along with everyone who has ever opposed me. I want to get the hell out of Boone.
I’m tackling on the graduation issue head-on. I have more than enough credits for a walk-in ceremony. I’m going to go through with it. Afterwards I’m putting this place behind me completely. I thought the Cottages was supposed to be my Vietnam. But no, it’s this entire town and the University here. Yeah, there’s stuff that happened that has nothing do with either but being in this town is not good for me anymore. To hell with that “survival over success” bullshit I wrote about before.
I will take survival and I will embrace whatever consequences come from that choice as well as being true to myself. Leaving Boone won’t bring a permanent end to my Nightmare Syndrome. But it will be a step in the right direction for me. If the whole point of going through all this is to make me stronger or to give me something to write about later, mission accomplished then.
To all people affiliated with Appalachian State University, student and faculty, FUCKING big “thank you” for making me feel like a freak, for feeding my monsters, and for making me into this melancholy warrior.
I no longer care what comes my way or what I have to put myself through mentally anymore. One way or another I am getting out of this town and I’m going to unleash the full might of my imagination. Until I purge myself of every unused idea and character and new ones that may develop I absolutely refuse to allow my thoughts to die with me.
I have battle plans and now an escape plan. I feel a revival in my spirit. Now is the time to strike.