A Realisation

One man's opinion is precisely that. the opinion of ONE man.
and while that might stick in your head for weeks, months, years even, you'll eventually come to realise something...

It matters not.

or better still, it only matters for as long as you'll allow it to.  

if you're wondering what i'm talking about, well let me tell you a fun story. some years ago now, back when i thought i was wise, but really i was just a somewhat elitist snob who'd been overly spoonfed certain idelogies and parroted thoughts while thinking they were original. Okay, that's not quite fair. but i was young and highly impressionable, highly susceptible to the criticism of others, particularly those whose thoughts and opinions i thought mattered the most, partially because i didn't know any better. anyway during this time, i was given an assignment for one of my classes at school that entailed attempting to emulate the writing style of one of the authors we were studying at the time, or if we preferred, another related writer. this particular assignment was listed under 'creative' writing. now, creativity is of course highly subjective, meaning that not everyone is going to be impressed by whatever it is you create. also, asking a group of 17 and 18-year-olds to attempt to emulate the writing style of great war poets or novelists who far surpass them in both age and skill is quite a challenge, and the way i see it, if said young people come anywhere close to producing something that respects and reflects the original works, they should be highly congratulated. not to mention, none of us had actually experienced any kind of war firsthand, so we were more than slightly disadvantaged in the way of real experience upon which to draw. 
Long story short, I, fancying myself something of a poetess at the time, decided to embark upon the ambitious project of creating a series of war poems in the style of Siegfried Sassoon/Wilfred Owen. Now, i'm not in any way claiming these poems to be amazing works of poetic genius, but coming from the inexperienced and innocent brain of a student, I'd have to say i did as decent a job as possible, given the circumstances. 
However, my teacher did not seem to agree, and proceeded to crush my young poetic soul by telling me that i had not quite hit the proverbial nail on the head, in terms of what the assignment had asked of me. The result was a completely shattered self-esteem and some tears, which is not something you want to evoke in an emotionally fragile student nearing the end of her VCE studies. 

just recently i was browsing through the early days of this blog, where i have in fact posted some of the attempted war poems as mentioned above. and I have to say, they are pretty damn good, especially for someone who has had absolutely no actual experience of the war or the emotions attached to it. So you know what, teacher who will remain unnamed for reasons of politeness on my end? SCREW YOU. THOSE WERE BLOODY GOOD POEMS AND I'M ACTUALLY DAMN PROUD OF THEM. 
Ahh, so glad to have gotten that off my chest. if you want to see the poems, you can find them buried in the 2010 posts. 

"because i'm doing this for the thrill of it, killing it"