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I am gifted, or so I'm told. I can write excellent essays straight from my head to the paper, solve complex mathematical problems after merely glancing at the textbook examples, grasp grammar without painstaking repetition, and learn programming languages in a matter of days. Good for me, wouldn't you say?

I don't know.

I am, honest to God, not sure whether this is my greatest gift or my greatest curse. So far in my soon-to-be nineteen year long life, I have never had to work hard to achieve anything. The Swedish school system takes great care to tend to pupils with scholastic difficulties at a young age, that is, people with the intelligence level of your average chair. That left me sitting in a corner of the classroom, drawing odd shapes in my notebooks all day long. Then, one day they suddenly took notice of me, instantly demanding that I take full responsibility for my studies. I have yet to hear a teacher talk to me without using the words "unused potential".

I suppose it could be an inherent laziness. So far there has always been an easy way out, and I am not slow, admittedly, to take it. My grades are steadily dropping from an excellent level to an above average level, but I really don't have any reason to care, since I have my admission to a college of my choice guaranteed by a top score on this big national test (would probably equal the American SATs, or something like that). "There's more than one way to do it", and I'll bet my ass one of them is simple enough for me to just slide through. Nothing has ever actually required an effort, so why put any effort into it?

Everything just feels like a big fucking so what? I feel an infuriating lack of interest toward just about everything. Every once in a while, a stimulating challenge may come along, but behind the scenes, a massive amount of tension and frustration is building up underneath an exterior that would seem to hold something different. Just different in some way. Not at all what people, everyone, anyone expect from me. Why must there be expectations at all? Can't they all just leave me alone?

They don't understand me.

No one does. Should anyone? Maybe I need a shrink. Or perhaps just a bottle of booze. Wallowing deeper into the dark corners of my own incomprehensible mind, I realize that I've done it again. I've fled reality. Instead of memorizing the 400 odd pages I need to know for tomorrow's physics exam, I've taken my resort into noding all evening. So what, I'll pass, though just barely. Same old story. There is always a safe haven, away from expectations, be it noding, music, driving way too fast, sex or anything else.

As I stray from the topic, a question forms itself in my head: is my lack of motivation and drive, and my inability to face problems head on a direct result of not having been made to work hard for anything throughout my entire life? And would I trade in my brightness for a dosage of the aforementioned?

I suppose I will just toss this ranting out into cyberspace for you to read. Maybe it will do you some good. If not, I didn't waste your time by making you read it..