I'm a nerd and i'm dating the quarterback!! and he's a HOTT VAMPIRE!?!?!

Chapter Thingamabobberjig

DISCLAIMER: The following passage may disturb you. To many it would seem depressing, horrible, and perhaps a little bit insane. I myself have wondered in the past if these thoughts were dangerous, but for the time-being, I have decided they are not. If anything, I find it all encouraging.

Ever since I was little, I have accepted the fact that I will not live to an old age. I have no reason for suspecting that I’ll die young; I’m perfectly healthy. It may be that having cancer as a three-year-old developing child influenced my thinking, scaring me into believing that I would never be old. This is probably what most would assume when they first hear it.

“Oh, it’s just some phobia she has because she was traumatized.” No. It’s not. It’s more like a dream, or a guess at the future. I’m an INFJ personality, one of the rarest types of thinkers. A lot of websites and things have noted that INFJs often possess, (or at least seem to possess) ESP, or “extrasensory perception”. Psychic ability.

No, I am not claiming to be a psychic. That would be ridiculous. And yet…

I know I won’t get old. My whole life, I have been concerned with getting ahead. Here I am, seventeen years old, looking into publishing techniques so I can start getting my novels and ideas out to the world. I’ve been wondering about my future and my life plans since I was nine. Seriously wondering; planning. Currently, I’m rushing to accomplish my life goals. I have stories that need readers, and I need to write them all down and edit them as much as I can, and continue to add to them, as quickly as possible. If I don’t do it now, I know I’ll run out of time.

They say people going through a mid-life crisis or approaching old age tend to change their goals from accomplishments and life ambitions to more personal things like enjoying themselves and staying healthy. I find all of those goals as ridiculous and unnecessary. I would never have any of them. Which means, what point would there be in me sticking around once my life is “complete” in my eyes? I wouldn’t ever commit suicide, but a big part of me feels like there’s a reason I feel this way. I don’t want much in life, but the few things I do want, I get. God’s not going to let me sit on my butt and waste away from dementia when I’m old.

It may be that that period of life just never hits me; I’ll be working on my goals until the day I die. I’ve also wondered if I might end up dying for a cause, like the characters in my books. I could change the world, then when I’m not needed anymore alive, the author, (God), could write me off and use my memory to influence the lives of others. I want my story to be spectacular, so everyone can read it and take my advice to live a life as successful as mine will be. That’s why I write everything down.

Of course, not all of my deepest darkest thoughts make it onto the internet, but I keep them in a safe place, in the hope that after I’m gone and don’t care about people knowing me, someone will find them and cherish them, or publish them to explain to the world how I coped with life. Currently, I’m an introverted teenager; I have to have secrets to be sane. But my secrets are so intense and powerful, I think a lot of people would benefit from knowing them, or at least be in awe of all the things they never knew about me. My inner selves have come to an agreement that it’s okay for people to know, just not yet.

Now to sidetrack off of that sidetrack to a previous sidetrack, the ESP thing is really creepy. It’s not like I can tell you “this is going to happen, for sure,” but I seem to have a knack for guessing correctly. Sometimes a certain choice just feels right, and when it is I get a bit of a chill.

Recently, however, it backfired on me. I’d been daydreaming about a certain event that could happen a few years in the future, and something happened the other day that could be a prelude to said event. This is bad. The event I was dreaming about had its good points in my mind considering what it could mean, but it was (will be?) not a happy event at all. I can’t get into specifics, (it would go against my secret-keeping AND the people involved don’t need to know what I’m thinking), but I can tell you I was pretty shaken by it. Literally. I was shaking for like an hour, and I had to go outside with my ipod to calm down a bit.

I do scare myself sometimes like that. I think I just get too worked up by my imagination, and whenever I make things seem a bit TOO real, I get concerned about my sanity. It’s either the mark of a genius, or schizophrenia. I can’t decide.