Older Brother, school, and poem

So, my brother has always had a way with words- his words being the most cruel and striking by far. Although he is normally a lot less dramatic when he chooses to pick a fight with me today he was very over the top. His topic this time was school and how I am destined to fail. I know, amazing big brother, right?

For about 30 minutes he told me how school is pretty pointless because I'm destined to be mediocre because that's just the way I am. I want to be a lawyer, and he said I could be one, but it wouldn't matter because I'd still just be average. Average, I hate that word i hate the idea of being nothing more than outside of the ordinary. I have always strived to be above average intellectually, but perhaps I'm destined to just be apart of the masses. That however wasn't the worst of what he said...

As of current I work as a cashier in Pathmark, he said I might as well keep that position. That is my biggest fear. So after an hour of crying my eyes out I decided to ignore him and write this lovely blog. Whilst writing this I feel a need to stress I will not give up in school. I will graduate, and then go to Law school, and I will not be an average face. School is important even if its just to enable your dreams to come true.

On a completely different note, I wrote a poem that is suppose to be read as a conversation and I'd love to know what you guys think of it.

There's nothing quite so pure as the written word my dear,

so lets have ourselves a little poem.

Because the words we mean cannot be spoken,

the truth and lies become convoluted in the middle ground.

You'll raise that glass to your lips and drink my memory away.

As we yearn to fill ourselves with empty calorie conversations.

But we'll do no such thing, and allow ourselves to drift apart.

We used to speak for something, but now we just recycle our lives.

Saving up for another in hopes to fill a never-ending void?

What have we become just a glorified memory for the heart?

No, your memory is painted black with hopes of forgetting.

I suppose that's ok, yours is ripped to shred.

It's only in person do I realize the truth, I suppose unrequited love does that.

I wish I could have loved you, maybe one day I will.

One day will never come because I'll paint you black as you have me.

I'll delete your existence from my memory. Goodbye.

Farewell. To think these were the last words said.