are lies. They lead children to believe that things that will never happen will. Sure, all these Disney movies are cute, and fun to watch, but they LIE. From the time that all the young are born, they learn and watch fairytale movies and hear fairytale stories. I may have to go out on a limb and say that it can be worse for girls than it is for boys. They show these little girls that 15 and 16 year olds can see a guy and they will fall in love and get married and they don't even have to say a paragraph's worth of dialogue to one another. (I say 15 and 16 because that's actually how old alot of them are.) It's not right. I see my little girl cousins talking about their "Prince Charming" that is waiting for them to grow up some and know that there is no such thing.
I see them believing these lies and even though I know that this won't happen, I have to play along because "it's nice to llet them have something to believe in" (or so the other females in my family say). Well, in my opinion, the only thing that's going to happen is that one day, they are going to wake up and realize that life just doesn't work that way, and they will be heart broken. They are going to realize that in real life, things don't just work out for you.
What are we teaching our children? Of course, all of these movies are adorable and must-sees, if you know better than to believe them, but how do you avoid children believing in things that just don't happen? It's not easy, but I guess I will have to wait and see...
Showing posts with label Society. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Society. Show all posts
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Happiness
What defines happiness? That is a question that i have struggled to figure out for a long time. How are you supposed to define a happy person. It cannot merely be acting happy. Anyone can act happy at any time, even if they are going through the deepest agony that they felt they could ever go through. How are you supposed to know if you are sincerely and truly happy at a certain point in time? How do you know that this "happiness" isn't just the result of practicing being happy for so long that now you seem a happy person? Life is too short to spend time being sad, angry, and hurt. While, as humans, these emotions seem so difficult to ignore or break away from, these things must happen for a person to live a good life. People have every right to feel hurt. But in this hurt, they can feel happiness coming from within. I know it sounds crazy, but it can happen. I've seen it, I understand it.
And on the topic of a human's short life, is it really so short? Or is it that life seems so short because of the wasted time doing things that don't matter at all? People waste their time with allowing themselves to stay angry, and by doing things that in reality shouldn't matter to them at all because it holds no benefit to their life in the end. In the end, it will just be wasted time. And maybe this is what makes life feel so short, as if we needed to find some way to give ourselves an excuse for the things that we may do. Life is too short, we say, to not enjoy it in the way we want to. But is this really true? Or are we just lying to ourselves to we don't feel guilt for the things we as humans have done?
And on the topic of a human's short life, is it really so short? Or is it that life seems so short because of the wasted time doing things that don't matter at all? People waste their time with allowing themselves to stay angry, and by doing things that in reality shouldn't matter to them at all because it holds no benefit to their life in the end. In the end, it will just be wasted time. And maybe this is what makes life feel so short, as if we needed to find some way to give ourselves an excuse for the things that we may do. Life is too short, we say, to not enjoy it in the way we want to. But is this really true? Or are we just lying to ourselves to we don't feel guilt for the things we as humans have done?
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Suffering is Joy?
As I was going through all of the posts on this blog, and trying to label each blog entry concerning it's topic, something came across my mind. Why is it that so many of my entries are so unhappy? Is it that I am an unhappy person at heart, despite my "bubblyness"? Is it possibly that I truly can't tap into the happy state of mind that I at least seem to put myself out as? I cannot even begin to enter the realm of being able to say "I am truly happy". Or can I? I suppose it would depend on your definition of happiness at first.
A friend of mine used to say that true happiness cannot exist, because when one is happy all the time, they forget sadness and it becomes non-existent for them. And with the philosophy that cold is only the absence of heat, one could state that happiness is only the absence of sadness. What if it was the other way around though? What if sadness is the absence of happiness?
Then this thought crossed my mind: "Why isn't the great question of happiness wildly discussed?"
The greatest philosophers in the history of all mankind have questioned happiness, why doesn't the common man? Great philosophers accepted sadness, and the common man questions it?
Perhaps those great philosophers have accepted the fact that sadness exists in our lives. If one is to dwell in their sadness they can never receive the joy from the things in life that give it out. The common man though searches to escape suffering... What if the key to our suffering is our suffering itself?
I don't write about my happy thoughts or feelings as often, because I am contented to stew in my joy and hold onto it for as long as I can. When I am sad... I write to try and push all that sadness out of me, and to get past that sadness to reach my joy. To try and turn fortune's wheel a little bit faster. I, like the rest of society, don't want to suffer. Yet these great thinkers among men have accepted their suffering and lived perfectly wonderful lives. In a sense, because they were doing what they wanted to do, they were happy.
When we suffer, we appreciate those happy moments more. When we are happy those suffering moments are all the more distant. Most definitely not similar to a state of balanced equilibrium, chemically speaking. So maybe those philosophers do have it right. Maybe we were made to suffer, so that happy moments are all the better for us. Like yin and yang, you can't have one without the other. You cannot be happy if you have never been sad. You cannot feel joy if you have never suffered.
So perhaps it is this, for you my readers. It is not that I am not a happy person. It is not that I can't tap into the happy parts of myself when I write. It is not that I am a young girl obsessed with the drama of life. It is that when I am happy, I am at peace.
A friend of mine used to say that true happiness cannot exist, because when one is happy all the time, they forget sadness and it becomes non-existent for them. And with the philosophy that cold is only the absence of heat, one could state that happiness is only the absence of sadness. What if it was the other way around though? What if sadness is the absence of happiness?
Then this thought crossed my mind: "Why isn't the great question of happiness wildly discussed?"
The greatest philosophers in the history of all mankind have questioned happiness, why doesn't the common man? Great philosophers accepted sadness, and the common man questions it?
Perhaps those great philosophers have accepted the fact that sadness exists in our lives. If one is to dwell in their sadness they can never receive the joy from the things in life that give it out. The common man though searches to escape suffering... What if the key to our suffering is our suffering itself?
I don't write about my happy thoughts or feelings as often, because I am contented to stew in my joy and hold onto it for as long as I can. When I am sad... I write to try and push all that sadness out of me, and to get past that sadness to reach my joy. To try and turn fortune's wheel a little bit faster. I, like the rest of society, don't want to suffer. Yet these great thinkers among men have accepted their suffering and lived perfectly wonderful lives. In a sense, because they were doing what they wanted to do, they were happy.
When we suffer, we appreciate those happy moments more. When we are happy those suffering moments are all the more distant. Most definitely not similar to a state of balanced equilibrium, chemically speaking. So maybe those philosophers do have it right. Maybe we were made to suffer, so that happy moments are all the better for us. Like yin and yang, you can't have one without the other. You cannot be happy if you have never been sad. You cannot feel joy if you have never suffered.
So perhaps it is this, for you my readers. It is not that I am not a happy person. It is not that I can't tap into the happy parts of myself when I write. It is not that I am a young girl obsessed with the drama of life. It is that when I am happy, I am at peace.
Friday, October 9, 2009
I Am In A Quandary
I'm quite a lucky little girl.
I know the majority of my vocabulary words because Ryan and Jonathan had used them so often around me...
I'm lucky in other ways...
If I'm so lucky, then why am I so reluctant to reciprocate the love that I am lucky to receive?
Perhaps...I don't belong in that world at all. Maybe he wants me in that world, in his world, but I can't! I couldn't possibly. I don't fit. I don't belong.
It hurts me though. To not be a part of all his laughter and revelry. Is it wrong for it to hurt so much? Is it wrong for me to want so much? I thought perhaps only to hear his voice... but then, I'm not sure... It only made everything that much worse.
Why is it always so hard to let go... For the people that it's hard to let go... Is it because you still want to hold on?
I know the majority of my vocabulary words because Ryan and Jonathan had used them so often around me...
I'm lucky in other ways...
If I'm so lucky, then why am I so reluctant to reciprocate the love that I am lucky to receive?
Perhaps...I don't belong in that world at all. Maybe he wants me in that world, in his world, but I can't! I couldn't possibly. I don't fit. I don't belong.
It hurts me though. To not be a part of all his laughter and revelry. Is it wrong for it to hurt so much? Is it wrong for me to want so much? I thought perhaps only to hear his voice... but then, I'm not sure... It only made everything that much worse.
Why is it always so hard to let go... For the people that it's hard to let go... Is it because you still want to hold on?
Friday, August 14, 2009
Why is it so painful to remember the happy?
The logical side of me is berating myself for my foolish tears. Telling me he will move on without me one day (or even worse I without him), and that I should help prepare him as best I can for the sake of society.
This emotional side of me that I had used to call weak tells me to cry it out. To curl into a little ball and let the world see my mixed feelings. Words such as pain, joy, sadness, frustration adn solitude only tough the surface of this scrambled feelings
A mime gets crushed by a tree in the forest when no one is around, does anyone hear him?
I cry alone in the dark when no one is around. I Know someone hears me.
I know I cannot be the only one in this state. My organs twisting around themselves and my mind pounding against my skull, threatening to explode
To think I thought my emotional side was weak. I always believed he thought my strength was in my will power and the choices I made. he thinks I am strong because of how I feel. has he slipped peacefully into sleep, or does he cry like me?
I am afraid of Junior year. I feel so alone, and I know I have so much to face.
Life is like a marathon and I hate running. But I have friends who I know will help me.
Is it wrong to miss him, even if he isn't gone?
18:54
I remember the first time that he adn I really talked. I was walking outside of the girl's locker room at THS. He was sitting against the gate by the girl's locker room. He was listening to his iPod. He saw me adn called me over. He asked me to listen to a song and it made me laugh. We chatted about the song, and I wanted to go join my friends, and he came with me. I think that was also the day I looked in his eyes and he looked right back at me. This boy had the audacity to look right back at me. when did someone last look at me straight in the eyes? With such ferocity.No boy had looked at me straight in the eyes. His eyes were locked on mine. While other boys either never held the gaze or looked without seeing. I can't even describe that first not-even-an-hour of starting to know this boy. To see this boy become a man. That was the beginning and it has been a long time since then. I know we are far from the end.
This emotional side of me that I had used to call weak tells me to cry it out. To curl into a little ball and let the world see my mixed feelings. Words such as pain, joy, sadness, frustration adn solitude only tough the surface of this scrambled feelings
A mime gets crushed by a tree in the forest when no one is around, does anyone hear him?
I cry alone in the dark when no one is around. I Know someone hears me.
I know I cannot be the only one in this state. My organs twisting around themselves and my mind pounding against my skull, threatening to explode
To think I thought my emotional side was weak. I always believed he thought my strength was in my will power and the choices I made. he thinks I am strong because of how I feel. has he slipped peacefully into sleep, or does he cry like me?
I am afraid of Junior year. I feel so alone, and I know I have so much to face.
Life is like a marathon and I hate running. But I have friends who I know will help me.
Is it wrong to miss him, even if he isn't gone?
18:54
I remember the first time that he adn I really talked. I was walking outside of the girl's locker room at THS. He was sitting against the gate by the girl's locker room. He was listening to his iPod. He saw me adn called me over. He asked me to listen to a song and it made me laugh. We chatted about the song, and I wanted to go join my friends, and he came with me. I think that was also the day I looked in his eyes and he looked right back at me. This boy had the audacity to look right back at me. when did someone last look at me straight in the eyes? With such ferocity.No boy had looked at me straight in the eyes. His eyes were locked on mine. While other boys either never held the gaze or looked without seeing. I can't even describe that first not-even-an-hour of starting to know this boy. To see this boy become a man. That was the beginning and it has been a long time since then. I know we are far from the end.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Dust
What am I to this world? I'm just dust in the wind, I forget where that saying is from. I am dust in the wind. As humans we'd like to believe that we are more than what we actually are. We are simply a result of evolution. We have destroyed so many beautiful things. I truly believe there is no hope for the human race. We are all terrible and ugly creatures. There is no hope at all for humans Even love is something we use to fool ourselves into happiness. It's a stupid drug and after our dose we're even worse off then we were before. The earth would be a better place if human's didn't exist.
So in the words of the famous Juliet
"what if this (poison) do not work at all? . . . No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there."
Blades are beautiful.
So in the words of the famous Juliet
"what if this (poison) do not work at all? . . . No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there."
Blades are beautiful.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Today I Was Told...
That I have work to do. No not from my darling, but rather from my mother. I don't have any more e-mails to tide me over until he comes back. So I settle with hugging my baby TJ very very tightly, and seeing Ryan in my dreams.
I had just woken up, it's six thirty in the morning, and my mother tells me to get to work, and that I have a busy day ahead of me.
Why did I choose to do this again? Oh right, so that I could take French 3 during my junior year (the course at IVC is the equivalent of two years of highschool french), and so I could take AP Chemistry, and then AP Physics. Does this mean I will have no summer? In less then two weeks french starts, and I leave my home around 7:30. Eight thirty my french class begins, and then I sit and wait at IVC, perhaps do my AP homework for maybe 6 hours until 5:30 when my Chemistry class begins. I'll leave for home at 10:00. Yes classes end halfway through august, and I get two weeks of break before school begins, though I should say that one of those weeks will be spent doing tennis camp. Oh joy...
Someone tell me, am I crazy for spending my summer in this way?
In some ways I see how this will further me, and I'm proud of myself for making the mature decision, but as one in my youth, I wonder how I let my childhood pass me by. I should be enjoying a stress free summer, rather then spend it doing this. I have fridays and the weekends yes. With this schedule I will be alone a lot during the summer, that is all. No beach days with the friends, or movies, or the such. I will be doing homework. AP Chemistry homework, WHILE i'm taking chemistry. I feel so foolish for choosing this, even if it's good for me.
I had just woken up, it's six thirty in the morning, and my mother tells me to get to work, and that I have a busy day ahead of me.
Why did I choose to do this again? Oh right, so that I could take French 3 during my junior year (the course at IVC is the equivalent of two years of highschool french), and so I could take AP Chemistry, and then AP Physics. Does this mean I will have no summer? In less then two weeks french starts, and I leave my home around 7:30. Eight thirty my french class begins, and then I sit and wait at IVC, perhaps do my AP homework for maybe 6 hours until 5:30 when my Chemistry class begins. I'll leave for home at 10:00. Yes classes end halfway through august, and I get two weeks of break before school begins, though I should say that one of those weeks will be spent doing tennis camp. Oh joy...
Someone tell me, am I crazy for spending my summer in this way?
In some ways I see how this will further me, and I'm proud of myself for making the mature decision, but as one in my youth, I wonder how I let my childhood pass me by. I should be enjoying a stress free summer, rather then spend it doing this. I have fridays and the weekends yes. With this schedule I will be alone a lot during the summer, that is all. No beach days with the friends, or movies, or the such. I will be doing homework. AP Chemistry homework, WHILE i'm taking chemistry. I feel so foolish for choosing this, even if it's good for me.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Flannel Shirt That Is Now A Jacket
Today was the last day for seniors at THS. Everyone rejoices because it is the last day of school. The seniors especially, they don't have to return, they are entering a new phase in their life. They continue on to a new chapter, and ending this one. This crazy one called highschool, the life of a teenager, youth, what adults all say they want to go back to, and they are happy that it's over. Graduation is a day from today, and I am not strong enough to go.
I'm not strong enough to see the people that I've spent the past school year getting to know, getting to love, move on. I know this might seem selfish, or self centered, but all I can think of is that they're leaving me behind. That I'm left here with few friends. True to some I have many friends, but for some insane reason unknown to me I feel so alone.
I didn't know what to write in Ryan's yearbook. I've broken up with him... because I couldn't bear having to say goodbye, so instead I said it earlier? I see no logic in it either. During break today I was laughing with my friends. Something clicked in my mind, and I realized that next year I will be alright. I will have friends, I will be distracted, and I will forget those who have comforted me so much in the past year. The ones who are gone.
Ryan said he knows that I will be alright without him. Somehow I can't imagine it, though I have caught glimpses and I know I will be, I don't wish to admit it. For once in my life I'm stubborn, I don't want change anymore. I didn't know what to write in his yearbook because I don't know how to say goodbye.
I took his flannel shirt from him, though he uses it as a jacket, during lunch.
Today he was wearing somethign terrible! The black shirt that I really like, beneath some plaid-ish black and grey polo shirt and then THIS flannel shirt over it all. Worse part is the flannel shirt and the polo are very similar colors, therefore they clash! Absolute fashion faux paus. The most wonderful part of it all is that he did it on purpose. It's so wonderfully Ryan.
During fifth period after lunch, Theatre, I told Kuya Jonathan that I just might keep this jacket for myself because it's ugly, it looks bad on him, and I like it.
Then the bell rings, I rush off to Tennis, I change, and stuff the shirt into my locker deep in the girl's locker room where he cannot reach it! I see him, I hug him, I say hello. I see his best friend, scream "Urian!" In my little voice run over to him and kiss him on the cheek. Oh he reminds me so much of Manong Anton. Ryan asks if he can have me. Then straight out if we can go out. Be together. Officially a couple. Again. Then in my little way I dart about him weaving in and out of the spaces made by his arms and body. Laughing and asking him why I would do that? It's summer! I'm sure I made no sense. I was dodging.
Urian just wanted him to get his jacket back. I said no, and ran off to tennis. There was another small little (I don't want to say heart attack but one of my little heart problem things) and all I wanted was for him to hold me tight. Practice finally ends, I've been so nervous with no one to hold on to while my heart is pounding away furiously and all of those damned needles in my chest that my nails are bitten again... and he's gone ofcourse.
I was dodging. How I had wanted to say yes and scream it to the world. In breaking up with him though. In removing the fact that we had been an official couple, I've pushed him away a little bit, and I'll cry that much less when it finally hit's me that I don't belong in his world anymore, and he doesn't belong in mine.
I love this flannel jacket though. It means eventually again our worlds have to collide so that he can come and get it. To see him again I'm putting all of my hopes on one jacket...shirt...thing.
That was not as strong an ending as I had hope for.
I'm not strong enough to see the people that I've spent the past school year getting to know, getting to love, move on. I know this might seem selfish, or self centered, but all I can think of is that they're leaving me behind. That I'm left here with few friends. True to some I have many friends, but for some insane reason unknown to me I feel so alone.
I didn't know what to write in Ryan's yearbook. I've broken up with him... because I couldn't bear having to say goodbye, so instead I said it earlier? I see no logic in it either. During break today I was laughing with my friends. Something clicked in my mind, and I realized that next year I will be alright. I will have friends, I will be distracted, and I will forget those who have comforted me so much in the past year. The ones who are gone.
Ryan said he knows that I will be alright without him. Somehow I can't imagine it, though I have caught glimpses and I know I will be, I don't wish to admit it. For once in my life I'm stubborn, I don't want change anymore. I didn't know what to write in his yearbook because I don't know how to say goodbye.
I took his flannel shirt from him, though he uses it as a jacket, during lunch.
Today he was wearing somethign terrible! The black shirt that I really like, beneath some plaid-ish black and grey polo shirt and then THIS flannel shirt over it all. Worse part is the flannel shirt and the polo are very similar colors, therefore they clash! Absolute fashion faux paus. The most wonderful part of it all is that he did it on purpose. It's so wonderfully Ryan.
During fifth period after lunch, Theatre, I told Kuya Jonathan that I just might keep this jacket for myself because it's ugly, it looks bad on him, and I like it.
Then the bell rings, I rush off to Tennis, I change, and stuff the shirt into my locker deep in the girl's locker room where he cannot reach it! I see him, I hug him, I say hello. I see his best friend, scream "Urian!" In my little voice run over to him and kiss him on the cheek. Oh he reminds me so much of Manong Anton. Ryan asks if he can have me. Then straight out if we can go out. Be together. Officially a couple. Again. Then in my little way I dart about him weaving in and out of the spaces made by his arms and body. Laughing and asking him why I would do that? It's summer! I'm sure I made no sense. I was dodging.
Urian just wanted him to get his jacket back. I said no, and ran off to tennis. There was another small little (I don't want to say heart attack but one of my little heart problem things) and all I wanted was for him to hold me tight. Practice finally ends, I've been so nervous with no one to hold on to while my heart is pounding away furiously and all of those damned needles in my chest that my nails are bitten again... and he's gone ofcourse.
I was dodging. How I had wanted to say yes and scream it to the world. In breaking up with him though. In removing the fact that we had been an official couple, I've pushed him away a little bit, and I'll cry that much less when it finally hit's me that I don't belong in his world anymore, and he doesn't belong in mine.
I love this flannel jacket though. It means eventually again our worlds have to collide so that he can come and get it. To see him again I'm putting all of my hopes on one jacket...shirt...thing.
That was not as strong an ending as I had hope for.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
They don't understand
I was listening to a song right now. It's called "They Don't Understand" The lyrics:
A mother riding on a city bus
Kids are yelling kicking up a fuss
Everybody's staring not knowing what she's going through
Somebody said don't you even care?
Do you let 'em do that everywhere?
She slowly turned around, looked up and stared
She said please forgive them
But they've been up all night
Their father struggled, but he finally lost his fight
He went to heaven
In the middle of the night
So please forgive my children
(They don't understand)
Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's lost in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like there ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you never really know what your neighbor's going through
(They don't understand)
A man driving down the interstate
Slowing down traffic making everybody late
Everybody's staring not knowing what he's going through
Somebody honked from the passing lane
Yelling out the window, I ain't got all day
The old man looked around and he caught his eye
He said please forgive me
You know it's been a very long life
My wife has passed away and my kids don't have the time
I've been left all alone
And it's getting hard to drive
So please forgive me children
(They don't understand)
Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's lost in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up, trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like their ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you really never know what your neighbor's going through
(They don't understand)
A man hanging on a wooden cross
Giving everything to save the lost
Everybody's staring not knowing what he's going through
Somebody said don't you have a prayer
If you were king, come on down from there
The man just turned his head, looked up and stared
He said please forgive them
For they have not seen the light
They'll come to know me when I come back to life
Go to heaven, to make everything all right
So please forgive your children
(They don't understand)
Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's living in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like there's ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you never know what your neighbors going through
(They don't understand)
A mother riding on a city bus
Kids are yelling kicking up a fuss
Everybody's staring not knowing what she's going through
This song shows how people get so concerned with whatever they are thinking about that they don't realize that other people are in the middle of their lives too. Things happen to people, and others don't realize this. There tends to be a reason why people are the way that they are (okay, not always, but most of the time). People tend to forget that things happen to other people too, and that they're not the only one who may be going through a rough time, or have had to go through a rough time. They think about their own lives and what they wan't not thinking about the feelings of another person. When someone is crying, you ask what you can do to help, not point out the fact that they are crying, helping them to become a target for those looking for someone to make fun of.
Sometimes it can be hard to remember that other people are going through their lives at the same time that you are going through yours. You are not the only one. You can't always know what is going on in someone's life. They won't always tell you if they are hurting or if there is something that is bothering them right now. You have no way of knowing, so think about it when you see people and talk to them. Because unless, they are your BFF, most likely, you never really know what they're going through.
A mother riding on a city bus
Kids are yelling kicking up a fuss
Everybody's staring not knowing what she's going through
Somebody said don't you even care?
Do you let 'em do that everywhere?
She slowly turned around, looked up and stared
She said please forgive them
But they've been up all night
Their father struggled, but he finally lost his fight
He went to heaven
In the middle of the night
So please forgive my children
(They don't understand)
Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's lost in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like there ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you never really know what your neighbor's going through
(They don't understand)
A man driving down the interstate
Slowing down traffic making everybody late
Everybody's staring not knowing what he's going through
Somebody honked from the passing lane
Yelling out the window, I ain't got all day
The old man looked around and he caught his eye
He said please forgive me
You know it's been a very long life
My wife has passed away and my kids don't have the time
I've been left all alone
And it's getting hard to drive
So please forgive me children
(They don't understand)
Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's lost in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up, trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like their ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you really never know what your neighbor's going through
(They don't understand)
A man hanging on a wooden cross
Giving everything to save the lost
Everybody's staring not knowing what he's going through
Somebody said don't you have a prayer
If you were king, come on down from there
The man just turned his head, looked up and stared
He said please forgive them
For they have not seen the light
They'll come to know me when I come back to life
Go to heaven, to make everything all right
So please forgive your children
(They don't understand)
Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's living in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like there's ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you never know what your neighbors going through
(They don't understand)
A mother riding on a city bus
Kids are yelling kicking up a fuss
Everybody's staring not knowing what she's going through
This song shows how people get so concerned with whatever they are thinking about that they don't realize that other people are in the middle of their lives too. Things happen to people, and others don't realize this. There tends to be a reason why people are the way that they are (okay, not always, but most of the time). People tend to forget that things happen to other people too, and that they're not the only one who may be going through a rough time, or have had to go through a rough time. They think about their own lives and what they wan't not thinking about the feelings of another person. When someone is crying, you ask what you can do to help, not point out the fact that they are crying, helping them to become a target for those looking for someone to make fun of.
Sometimes it can be hard to remember that other people are going through their lives at the same time that you are going through yours. You are not the only one. You can't always know what is going on in someone's life. They won't always tell you if they are hurting or if there is something that is bothering them right now. You have no way of knowing, so think about it when you see people and talk to them. Because unless, they are your BFF, most likely, you never really know what they're going through.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Diagnosis?
So in English with Mr. Miller. We read The Diagnosis.
For some class credit he said we could write a response. I didn't want to just hand him the one I had previously written on here, just for some points. I actually have to write something for the intent and main purpose of getting a good grade in his class. Having something new to write on here is just a bonus. I pretend I write to an audience. Though I know that few read this blog at all. Maybe I hope that others will read this one day?
All of the relationships in The Diagnosis are so pointless. There's the facade of caring. There are a few points where you think that someone cares for another. Then next thing you know they're doing something so crazily idiotic. Take Melissa for example (so sorry for those who haven't read the book, maybe you should read yes?), she shows moments of caring about Bill, but continually she says, "Why are you doing this to me?" Bill can't control what's happening to him, and yet she blames him for their son's personality, for their sudden loss of income. Alex seems to care for his father, shown when Bill had finally returned home, and Alex lay across his father's chest as he slept. Alex though shuts himself off from his father, giving him opportunities to connect such as in the pizza parlor, but never really trying himself. All of the relationships seem to be failures. The married people around Bill argue so much, friends are people who distance themselves from you and only reminisce about when times are good, rather then living in the now, and helping you deal with your problems.
Then you look at relationships today. How hard it is to really connect with someone. If you find that person well you are one lucky son of a gun. I am one lucky son of a gun. I have Nikki.
I received and e-mail from a teacher. He showed concern about how I was doing in class.
I cried when I read that letter. He cared about what I was doing. About my grades and what would happen to me. Maybe I'm just being a teenager, but lately to me, it seems like no one cares. I feel like Bill. I feel like the people around me at work(school) only care for themselves and furthering themselves, rather then helping others. I feel like my family is so disconnected from me and they never reach out to me, but rather leave me to deal with my problems as well as their own. Sometimes I feel like the people I love the most are the ones who don't connect with me. Bill didn't have God though. Religion was never mentioned. What would have happened to Bill if he had God? Would he still be trying to hold on in life as I do now? Would he have fought harder? Would he have been able to see more clearly? That will be an interesting topic to think back on one day.
Mr. Miller. I don't know if this really can double for my response, but I think I write better when I write for me. When I write what's on my mind, rather then stick to one exact detailed topic, and write it for someone else, or for something else. I hope it works though.
For some class credit he said we could write a response. I didn't want to just hand him the one I had previously written on here, just for some points. I actually have to write something for the intent and main purpose of getting a good grade in his class. Having something new to write on here is just a bonus. I pretend I write to an audience. Though I know that few read this blog at all. Maybe I hope that others will read this one day?
All of the relationships in The Diagnosis are so pointless. There's the facade of caring. There are a few points where you think that someone cares for another. Then next thing you know they're doing something so crazily idiotic. Take Melissa for example (so sorry for those who haven't read the book, maybe you should read yes?), she shows moments of caring about Bill, but continually she says, "Why are you doing this to me?" Bill can't control what's happening to him, and yet she blames him for their son's personality, for their sudden loss of income. Alex seems to care for his father, shown when Bill had finally returned home, and Alex lay across his father's chest as he slept. Alex though shuts himself off from his father, giving him opportunities to connect such as in the pizza parlor, but never really trying himself. All of the relationships seem to be failures. The married people around Bill argue so much, friends are people who distance themselves from you and only reminisce about when times are good, rather then living in the now, and helping you deal with your problems.
Then you look at relationships today. How hard it is to really connect with someone. If you find that person well you are one lucky son of a gun. I am one lucky son of a gun. I have Nikki.
I received and e-mail from a teacher. He showed concern about how I was doing in class.
I cried when I read that letter. He cared about what I was doing. About my grades and what would happen to me. Maybe I'm just being a teenager, but lately to me, it seems like no one cares. I feel like Bill. I feel like the people around me at work(school) only care for themselves and furthering themselves, rather then helping others. I feel like my family is so disconnected from me and they never reach out to me, but rather leave me to deal with my problems as well as their own. Sometimes I feel like the people I love the most are the ones who don't connect with me. Bill didn't have God though. Religion was never mentioned. What would have happened to Bill if he had God? Would he still be trying to hold on in life as I do now? Would he have fought harder? Would he have been able to see more clearly? That will be an interesting topic to think back on one day.
Mr. Miller. I don't know if this really can double for my response, but I think I write better when I write for me. When I write what's on my mind, rather then stick to one exact detailed topic, and write it for someone else, or for something else. I hope it works though.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Diagnosis
So in English with Mr. Miller. We're reading The Diagnosis, by Alan Lightman. I went to a Doctor on Friday to ask her to make her own diagnosis about me. Funny enough while waiting for her I was reading the diagnosis. I just finished the book this morning.
I think it was Friday, but one can never be quite sure, but I had started talking about something in English. It came out to be how we interpret it, but that had never been my immediate thought. My classmate had said something and it triggered something else in my brain. It was a marvelous thought, a wonderful thought, a point of enlightenment in my life, but as I began to talk, and notice that everyone who was listening wasn't really hearing me, then I began to lose track of the original thought. It brought me back to, "If a Poet Has No Words, Does He Leave His Poem Blank?" I can't even remember the title to something I myself wrote... But my thought was lost, that beautiful pearl in my mind. If only I could have held onto it, then let it slide from my mind and form on my tongue. If only I could have remembered it.
A major theme in The Diagnosis is sound. Even now, I'm drowning myself out in sound even though I know better. Listening to Michelle Branch, and some Filipino singers in the background. I can hear the keys clicking, the washing machine sounding. The more I listen I hear myself breathe, I can hear my heart beat. The sounds my body makes as I'm moving, hitting things. The world crashing in around me, assailing my senses. I see the colors in everything, how it moves. How my thoughts are appearing on the screen. I can smell the smells in a Filipino house. the mixed smells of food and plants. Of the lingering scent new furniture has as it wears away, still trying to hold onto itself. The smell that is. I can feel everything. The leather creating friction against the skin of my legs. The smoothness of the computer and the keys on my wrists and finger tips. How the earphones feel on my ears. The armrest feeling on my elbows. I can also feel my own hair creating curtains next to my eyes. These sudden fuzzy black lines in my vision, that I'm so used to because of my my hair used to feel. How the edges just touch the base of my neck my shoulders. The lacking of my hair at my waist now. I can taste the dryness in my mouth, the lingering of my fried rice breakfast. I lick my lips and can taste their dryness. I should probably get water, but now... I don't want to lose this pearl. The senses are so sensitive. They attack everything, but as life goes on do we ignore it? Do we ignore every little detail? I was walking yesterday to meet with someone at the park. I was wondering... What do people mean by you need to stop and smell the roses? Do they want us to take in every little detail? Every curve of the leaf just like Bill Chalmers did when his senses were fading? If we're going to pay attention at all, why not include all the small details? Then there's no use in stopping if you can't take every little bit in. Then your sense's become attacked though, every detail in a small thing is overwhelming. I could spend a lifetime staring at one thing. Watching how it changed. How the light dances on it, around it, changing it, contorting it. I could stare at one person's face for a lifetime, and not mind wasting away. As Narcissus did staring at his own.
Don't you just love how one thought can branch into so many different ones?
In my own opinion, Bill Chalmers, in The Diagnosis, has become sick because of everything going on in his life and the lack of human communication.
When I went to my doctor on Friday and talked to her about everything wrong with me. The heart pains, frequent muscle spasms, loss of control in my arms and legs for brief periods of time. The headaches, the emotions and the etc. She said that it was all due to my stress, and that I should try and relax more. The chest pains she took a couple of tests on my heart, I'm not exactly sure what it was, just to be sure. She just said to keep tabs on it and the whatnot, and just asked that I try and relax more. Something that my friends have been telling me for so long.
I couldn't help but see the parallel between Bill's problem and mine. Have I really lost all my human communication? True connection on the intimate level... Will I eventually waste away pushing those that I love far from me? My doctor was very vague with what was wrong with me, only that I should stay calm and relaxed... All of this just made me think how much it related to my Poet Piece. As it's become nick named among some of my friends. AKA Does A Poet Leave His Poem Blank? I really can't remember the name.. That's just terrible. Maybe I'll record the conversation we have in class and write about it one day?
I can get my words and thoughts out when I don't have to speak them. If I were to speak them... Well. I really do have to trust you for me to be totally unfiltered, don't I?
My Diagnosis : All the patient needs is Love, Trust, Understanding. Maybe a slight dosage of relaxation. Definitely to get out with Family, Friends. Connection.
I think it was Friday, but one can never be quite sure, but I had started talking about something in English. It came out to be how we interpret it, but that had never been my immediate thought. My classmate had said something and it triggered something else in my brain. It was a marvelous thought, a wonderful thought, a point of enlightenment in my life, but as I began to talk, and notice that everyone who was listening wasn't really hearing me, then I began to lose track of the original thought. It brought me back to, "If a Poet Has No Words, Does He Leave His Poem Blank?" I can't even remember the title to something I myself wrote... But my thought was lost, that beautiful pearl in my mind. If only I could have held onto it, then let it slide from my mind and form on my tongue. If only I could have remembered it.
A major theme in The Diagnosis is sound. Even now, I'm drowning myself out in sound even though I know better. Listening to Michelle Branch, and some Filipino singers in the background. I can hear the keys clicking, the washing machine sounding. The more I listen I hear myself breathe, I can hear my heart beat. The sounds my body makes as I'm moving, hitting things. The world crashing in around me, assailing my senses. I see the colors in everything, how it moves. How my thoughts are appearing on the screen. I can smell the smells in a Filipino house. the mixed smells of food and plants. Of the lingering scent new furniture has as it wears away, still trying to hold onto itself. The smell that is. I can feel everything. The leather creating friction against the skin of my legs. The smoothness of the computer and the keys on my wrists and finger tips. How the earphones feel on my ears. The armrest feeling on my elbows. I can also feel my own hair creating curtains next to my eyes. These sudden fuzzy black lines in my vision, that I'm so used to because of my my hair used to feel. How the edges just touch the base of my neck my shoulders. The lacking of my hair at my waist now. I can taste the dryness in my mouth, the lingering of my fried rice breakfast. I lick my lips and can taste their dryness. I should probably get water, but now... I don't want to lose this pearl. The senses are so sensitive. They attack everything, but as life goes on do we ignore it? Do we ignore every little detail? I was walking yesterday to meet with someone at the park. I was wondering... What do people mean by you need to stop and smell the roses? Do they want us to take in every little detail? Every curve of the leaf just like Bill Chalmers did when his senses were fading? If we're going to pay attention at all, why not include all the small details? Then there's no use in stopping if you can't take every little bit in. Then your sense's become attacked though, every detail in a small thing is overwhelming. I could spend a lifetime staring at one thing. Watching how it changed. How the light dances on it, around it, changing it, contorting it. I could stare at one person's face for a lifetime, and not mind wasting away. As Narcissus did staring at his own.
Don't you just love how one thought can branch into so many different ones?
In my own opinion, Bill Chalmers, in The Diagnosis, has become sick because of everything going on in his life and the lack of human communication.
When I went to my doctor on Friday and talked to her about everything wrong with me. The heart pains, frequent muscle spasms, loss of control in my arms and legs for brief periods of time. The headaches, the emotions and the etc. She said that it was all due to my stress, and that I should try and relax more. The chest pains she took a couple of tests on my heart, I'm not exactly sure what it was, just to be sure. She just said to keep tabs on it and the whatnot, and just asked that I try and relax more. Something that my friends have been telling me for so long.
I couldn't help but see the parallel between Bill's problem and mine. Have I really lost all my human communication? True connection on the intimate level... Will I eventually waste away pushing those that I love far from me? My doctor was very vague with what was wrong with me, only that I should stay calm and relaxed... All of this just made me think how much it related to my Poet Piece. As it's become nick named among some of my friends. AKA Does A Poet Leave His Poem Blank? I really can't remember the name.. That's just terrible. Maybe I'll record the conversation we have in class and write about it one day?
I can get my words and thoughts out when I don't have to speak them. If I were to speak them... Well. I really do have to trust you for me to be totally unfiltered, don't I?
My Diagnosis : All the patient needs is Love, Trust, Understanding. Maybe a slight dosage of relaxation. Definitely to get out with Family, Friends. Connection.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
What is love?
You guessed it. I'm Nichole. Mei's best friend. Like her, i didn't realize what she could mean to me. She was never a major proirity to me when we were younger. Now... now, i would be so lost and lonely without her that I wouldn't know what to do. I would also admit that I would get jealous if she found another best friend that could replace me. Her and I make a wierd friendship. We are so different, yet think so alike. We can read and know each other's thoughts on a subject without hearing the other say anything. We aren't afraid to tell each other anything, and we accept each other for the person they are and no one else. Anyone who knows us would not think that we are as close as we are, but put us together, and well, we're nearly inseperable (unless her boyfriend's there).
What is love? Is it a feeling, or is it much more? Is it a fire? Or a want? Or a burning passion? Why is it that there are no words for such things? I have felt something of love once, and I know, that no words can explain the feeling, the rush of burning desire. Love is almost like happiness. Not just laughing and having fun, but pure happiness. The kind that starts as a feeling in your chest and expands until it fills your whole body. A feeling that can't just be overcome with simple will. Is love a different feeling for every person? Or is it just that each person has there own way of describing the feeling? How many types of love are there really? Or is it just that you love others at different degrees? Why is it that love cannot be controlled? You cannot stop loving a person like you stop loving a color. When you love somebody, truly love somebody, you cannot control it, you cannot stop it just like that. Why is it that you find it when you least expect it, or don't want it at all? Why can it not be controlled? Do people love so they can be hurt? If you don't love something or someone, your heart will not be broken so easily. Why do people have to love something? Love seems that it leads to hurt more than it leads to a happily ever after. The more you love, the more you're looking to get hurt, and feel a pain, and not one that a band-aid can heal. It's something that takes much more time, a wound so deep it cuts right through your heart and out the other side. It can make you feel helpless and alone, but people tend to forget about such things when they think about love. They only think about happiness, not about the great sadness and pain lurking just around the corner. Why would they? Isn't just so much better to be thinking about love making you happy at the moment, instead of the possibility of love hurting you in the future? When people get together with someone, they don't stop and think, "I know that this isn't going to be forever." Everytime people get together, they tell each other that it will be forever, they promise it even. How often does it actually happen? That people stay together forever. In this world, maybe two in a million. Maybe less. People never stop to think about these things when they get together with somebody. They only think about their feeling that it WILL last forever, and that this is the person that they are meant to be with. Yet, they have the same feeling, and the same thoughts in every relationship. People seem to believe that every time they love, they will get their happily ever after. This is the person they were meant to be with and now they will get their fairy tale ending. Yet, we all know that fairy tale endings don't exist. Though a person may find the very person that they've needed their whole life, they're not going to all of a sudden end up with a perfect life. Perhaps the reason that people believe that they will have a fairy tale ending is because they just need something to believe in. Maybe it's because they're tired of their life and they need to believe that someday, it will all go away, and they will be able to live the perfect life they always wanted. Those are the people that need a reason to get up out of bed everyday. Perhaps they need a reason to keep on going on, to keep living their life, and to not give up on everything. Why is it that people build themselves up for a let down when they finally discover that the chances of them ever finding the perfect person it pretty slim, and the chances of having a fairy tale ending are even slimmer. They continue to believe, as they continue to believe in true love. Is either real? I wouldn't know, but I am sure that we'll all find out someday.
That being said, what exactly IS love?
What is love? Is it a feeling, or is it much more? Is it a fire? Or a want? Or a burning passion? Why is it that there are no words for such things? I have felt something of love once, and I know, that no words can explain the feeling, the rush of burning desire. Love is almost like happiness. Not just laughing and having fun, but pure happiness. The kind that starts as a feeling in your chest and expands until it fills your whole body. A feeling that can't just be overcome with simple will. Is love a different feeling for every person? Or is it just that each person has there own way of describing the feeling? How many types of love are there really? Or is it just that you love others at different degrees? Why is it that love cannot be controlled? You cannot stop loving a person like you stop loving a color. When you love somebody, truly love somebody, you cannot control it, you cannot stop it just like that. Why is it that you find it when you least expect it, or don't want it at all? Why can it not be controlled? Do people love so they can be hurt? If you don't love something or someone, your heart will not be broken so easily. Why do people have to love something? Love seems that it leads to hurt more than it leads to a happily ever after. The more you love, the more you're looking to get hurt, and feel a pain, and not one that a band-aid can heal. It's something that takes much more time, a wound so deep it cuts right through your heart and out the other side. It can make you feel helpless and alone, but people tend to forget about such things when they think about love. They only think about happiness, not about the great sadness and pain lurking just around the corner. Why would they? Isn't just so much better to be thinking about love making you happy at the moment, instead of the possibility of love hurting you in the future? When people get together with someone, they don't stop and think, "I know that this isn't going to be forever." Everytime people get together, they tell each other that it will be forever, they promise it even. How often does it actually happen? That people stay together forever. In this world, maybe two in a million. Maybe less. People never stop to think about these things when they get together with somebody. They only think about their feeling that it WILL last forever, and that this is the person that they are meant to be with. Yet, they have the same feeling, and the same thoughts in every relationship. People seem to believe that every time they love, they will get their happily ever after. This is the person they were meant to be with and now they will get their fairy tale ending. Yet, we all know that fairy tale endings don't exist. Though a person may find the very person that they've needed their whole life, they're not going to all of a sudden end up with a perfect life. Perhaps the reason that people believe that they will have a fairy tale ending is because they just need something to believe in. Maybe it's because they're tired of their life and they need to believe that someday, it will all go away, and they will be able to live the perfect life they always wanted. Those are the people that need a reason to get up out of bed everyday. Perhaps they need a reason to keep on going on, to keep living their life, and to not give up on everything. Why is it that people build themselves up for a let down when they finally discover that the chances of them ever finding the perfect person it pretty slim, and the chances of having a fairy tale ending are even slimmer. They continue to believe, as they continue to believe in true love. Is either real? I wouldn't know, but I am sure that we'll all find out someday.
That being said, what exactly IS love?
Saturday, January 3, 2009
It's The Trivial Thing.
The holiday season comes to a close.
A new year begins.
I look back at the past and realize how many changes I went through. How many masks I had to put on to try and find out who I am, and if I could be accepted.
What a stupid stupid thing to do.
My friends back then would have accepted me for who I am. Well... Who I was.
I had a friend back then too who would have accepted me for who I am, but I never saw her as important... Now. Well. I don't know if I could live without her. I'd die from everything pent up inside of me if it weren't for her. I thank her in every way possible. We're so different, we're on absolutely different path's for life. Yet... She mean's the world to me, and I'll admit I'd be jealous if she got close with anyone else but me! We've been friends for so long, but only now we're realizing just how much we need each other.
I've had so much heartbreak. I've fallen in love. I've been confused and unsure of myself. At one point I began hurting myself. It took a long break, and meeting someone really special to realize that. While my heart is still on the mend, I've found someone to protect my heart while it heals. Someone who I know would never break my heart. Someone who cherishes me more then I cherish him. We bicker sometimes as to who loves each other more. Well, we used to. Now though we've decided that we love each other equally at an amount that shoots past the very edges of space and time, but he's loved me longer. He has always loved me longer.
Well now. There is something that I really must wright about. People don't even think twice sometimes about the way they think. The way they see things. People, or maybe it was just me in utter ignorance, only see things the way they see it and don't like to look at anything the other way.I met someone in the past year who opened my eyes. Who changed who I am. Before we go that far back though I'll go back to December only, somewhere in the first half. I was having a pleasant conversation with Ryan. How dear he is to me. Sorry my thoughts wander.
Yes I was talking with Ryan and I forget how this came about...
But I talked to him and I told him.
Because it's true.
Ryan has changed my life in a way that can never be reversed. The things he's said to me, or the unexpected actions he's taken are so unlike to what I had been used to. The way I thought was so different back then, so narrow. All the things he's said to me had always made me think. In doing that he changed who I am. He's changed the way I think, the way I see things, partially a bit in the way I act. Not majorly in the way I act mind you, I will always be me. But he has changed my mind and my view. Taking a quote from Mr. Waldram. He took off my glasses.
I see the world differently thanks to him. Now I know I've become a different person on the inside. I can't say if it's for the better, or for the worse, or in line with what I used to be. I should think I've changed for the better.
He told me that meant more to him then well... You can fill in the blank.
Sometimes in life we ignore these changes in who we are. Sometimes we have those moments. Those moments where suddenly we just understand and we see. Our eyes become open.
It's those trivial things that are important.
A new year begins.
I look back at the past and realize how many changes I went through. How many masks I had to put on to try and find out who I am, and if I could be accepted.
What a stupid stupid thing to do.
My friends back then would have accepted me for who I am. Well... Who I was.
I had a friend back then too who would have accepted me for who I am, but I never saw her as important... Now. Well. I don't know if I could live without her. I'd die from everything pent up inside of me if it weren't for her. I thank her in every way possible. We're so different, we're on absolutely different path's for life. Yet... She mean's the world to me, and I'll admit I'd be jealous if she got close with anyone else but me! We've been friends for so long, but only now we're realizing just how much we need each other.
I've had so much heartbreak. I've fallen in love. I've been confused and unsure of myself. At one point I began hurting myself. It took a long break, and meeting someone really special to realize that. While my heart is still on the mend, I've found someone to protect my heart while it heals. Someone who I know would never break my heart. Someone who cherishes me more then I cherish him. We bicker sometimes as to who loves each other more. Well, we used to. Now though we've decided that we love each other equally at an amount that shoots past the very edges of space and time, but he's loved me longer. He has always loved me longer.
Well now. There is something that I really must wright about. People don't even think twice sometimes about the way they think. The way they see things. People, or maybe it was just me in utter ignorance, only see things the way they see it and don't like to look at anything the other way.I met someone in the past year who opened my eyes. Who changed who I am. Before we go that far back though I'll go back to December only, somewhere in the first half. I was having a pleasant conversation with Ryan. How dear he is to me. Sorry my thoughts wander.
Yes I was talking with Ryan and I forget how this came about...
But I talked to him and I told him.
Because it's true.
Ryan has changed my life in a way that can never be reversed. The things he's said to me, or the unexpected actions he's taken are so unlike to what I had been used to. The way I thought was so different back then, so narrow. All the things he's said to me had always made me think. In doing that he changed who I am. He's changed the way I think, the way I see things, partially a bit in the way I act. Not majorly in the way I act mind you, I will always be me. But he has changed my mind and my view. Taking a quote from Mr. Waldram. He took off my glasses.
I see the world differently thanks to him. Now I know I've become a different person on the inside. I can't say if it's for the better, or for the worse, or in line with what I used to be. I should think I've changed for the better.
He told me that meant more to him then well... You can fill in the blank.
Sometimes in life we ignore these changes in who we are. Sometimes we have those moments. Those moments where suddenly we just understand and we see. Our eyes become open.
It's those trivial things that are important.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thankful
One Minute Writer: who do you thank for something as amazing as the gift i've been given?The gift of being different. and the gift of knowing i'm different.the human mind craves to fit in while i know i do not. I'm thankful for the people i know now. the people i used to know. thankful that i know and love God and am grateful for him in my life. thankful for my sister. my mother-*end of minute*
Sadly enough I know that this simple cartoon, no matter how funny it may be, isn't much of an exaggeration. Over the weekend I had been a Legal at our own Tustin High Schools 16th annual Model United Nations Conference. I had to do the paperwork, grade caucus, watch the timer, the speakers list, take roll etc etc. Surprisingly... I had a lot of fun...
Why does the human society, on any scale at all, believe that to raise one's self up you have to push others down and use them as stepping stones. I used to believe (yes I know i'm about to paint quite the morbid image and i'm terribly sorry for that) that to get ahead in life you had to push other people down in the ground and use them as stepping stones. As if you were trapped in a well with a lot of other struggling people and that to reach the top I had to 'dispose' of these others and build myself a staircase. Ants sacrifice themselves in such a way to help their society. To cross a body of water ants will sometimes drown themselves creating a bridge for the rest to walk across. Thanks to experience, and some amazing people that have influenced my views on life, I know now that it is possible to climb high without having to dispose of others. To climb high without stepping on others. Take the well image for example. One can simply take resources and create a ladder, a rope and pull themselves high. You don't always have to put others down, be thankful and gracious for what you have. Sometimes people feel lost and without a cause, and so to try and find their way they push around people who have. Then those people become lost too.
I'm glad I now know this lesson, or I could never be comfortable with who I am. Perhaps I still don't know who I truly am, (i'm only just turned fifteen mind you!) but I do know this. I know I will be comfortable with who I was, and who I am to become.
Friday, October 10, 2008
If You Had Known What's Happening Now...
A good friend of mine asked me the other day...
If you had known what was going to happen to us, while we were on our first date, would you still have dated me?
I had never thought about this question before so I answered...
To tell you the truth I really don't know.
So then we just keep going along on our way to school, then I decide to ask...
What about you?
Then he tells me...
Yes. You were once essential to my life. Once.
Now at this statement I was quite shocked. To be essential to someone in their life. To be needed? I've never heard someone say that to me before. Perhaps someone to say I've made their life better, or that I have somehow made some difference in their life, but to be truly NEEDED?
So then the rest of the day my mind dwelled on that question, and well, I dwell on it now. He asked me this question wednesday morning mind you, so I have been thinking on it for several days now.
Are essential and needed the same thing though?
And how do you lose the need for someone? Do you avoid it, and fight that need until it simply disappears? Do I need the people in my life now? I have friends who I would go crazy without...without my parents... could I survive? yes. Will I be the person I am now? Maybe not... My sister? Has she made an impact that's necessary?
Why am I thinking of impact now, when I was talking about necessity? Do I need my darling dearest in my life? Does he need me? Did I need the person who asked me this question when he needed me? Even more importantly. Do I need him in the past, to be who I am in the present?
This particular person changed me I know that much.
Maybe everyone comes into your life and makes a difference. They all change you in some way right?
Maybe we need everyone in our lives in the past or we wouldn't be who we are now, but we didn't need them then?
Time is continuous afterall.
Dwell on these thoughts.
Dwell on the orange.
Peel the orange.
Take a slice.
Peel off the covering of that.
Pick apart all the little droplets.
Think about the orange.
And tell me what you find.
You may now continue living your regular lives.
If you had known what was going to happen to us, while we were on our first date, would you still have dated me?
I had never thought about this question before so I answered...
To tell you the truth I really don't know.
So then we just keep going along on our way to school, then I decide to ask...
What about you?
Then he tells me...
Yes. You were once essential to my life. Once.
Now at this statement I was quite shocked. To be essential to someone in their life. To be needed? I've never heard someone say that to me before. Perhaps someone to say I've made their life better, or that I have somehow made some difference in their life, but to be truly NEEDED?
So then the rest of the day my mind dwelled on that question, and well, I dwell on it now. He asked me this question wednesday morning mind you, so I have been thinking on it for several days now.
Are essential and needed the same thing though?
And how do you lose the need for someone? Do you avoid it, and fight that need until it simply disappears? Do I need the people in my life now? I have friends who I would go crazy without...without my parents... could I survive? yes. Will I be the person I am now? Maybe not... My sister? Has she made an impact that's necessary?
Why am I thinking of impact now, when I was talking about necessity? Do I need my darling dearest in my life? Does he need me? Did I need the person who asked me this question when he needed me? Even more importantly. Do I need him in the past, to be who I am in the present?
This particular person changed me I know that much.
Maybe everyone comes into your life and makes a difference. They all change you in some way right?
Maybe we need everyone in our lives in the past or we wouldn't be who we are now, but we didn't need them then?
Time is continuous afterall.
Dwell on these thoughts.
Dwell on the orange.
Peel the orange.
Take a slice.
Peel off the covering of that.
Pick apart all the little droplets.
Think about the orange.
And tell me what you find.
You may now continue living your regular lives.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
How To Be A Child
In Advanced Theatre Arts (now further referred to as ATA), taught by the wonderful and amazing Mrs. Jones (the ever persistent drama teacher, who works with the little she has and provides an amazing experience for her students who choose to grasp it) has currently begun our first production of the 08-09 school year. This production is called "How to Eat Like A Child". (If I have gotten it wrong and it's actually "How to Be A Child") I'll be quite embarrassed! You see this would be my first year in the ATA program. I was in her second period beginning drama class for the 07-08 school year. My freshman year. Seeing as how I am now a sophomore that would make sense would it not? We've been working on the lines, blocking, and choreography for our prologue (non of which I should give away though how I wish I could!). The choreography being done by the lovely Miss Michelle.
Now that I've prattled on though and giving you background information, perhaps we should move on to something VASTLY more interesting. The point of this blog in the first place.
As a young child (believe it or not those who know me personally) I was shy,quiet... I wasn't the person that everyone in the school new. I went to Saint Scholastica's Academy for girls. (A saint with the most interesting history I just must write about another time!) I was the girl with the bob cut who sat at the back of the room all the time and played by herself. I would constantly be found in the library, or perhaps in the chapel. Once I got to know people a little bit I would be seen tagging a long behind them. Once I had my first crush (who yes despite the baggy school uniform, chewed on fingernails and being one year his junior had a crush on me) I would be seen walking next to him (which is a big step up from walking behind a group of squealing first graders)!
Despite my quite and introverted personality my name was generally known due to my family's prestige in business and past celebrity like things, and my interactions with the fields of modeling and academic competition. I was a cheerleader and enjoyed doing things of the such. I was in the math club and was constantly with my socialite of an aunt. I would be seen in the latest fashion and the such... But i was still shy and quiet, except around a select few people. As I got older and came to the states, I grew to finally accept the spotlight when it came to me and embraced it. It would be wrong of me not to admit that I take center stage whenever I can! (Oh dear... odd statement, my blocking for the first scene of the play I am front and center! oh dear I just gave something away!!!) That transition is another time, but now lets revert to my purpose of the play shall we?
I see this play almost like my chance to be the child I never was. The child I am now. Loud, and hyper, running around the playground not afraid to get hurt little child who talks to everyone. This is my chance to be... well. To simply be what I am now that I wasn't then! It's the chance to just skip around the stage, to be childish. What child does not love to perform, simply to please others? Even better, I get to please children. Show them that when you're older, that it's still okay to do the silly little things that a child does.
My thoughts have stopped seeing as how I'm carrying on several conversations. I'm sorry I really couldn't elaborate on my point, that upsets me. I had so many thoughts and they only come down to this? How terrible of me...
I hope that you all have enjoyed this little orange, or have at least gotten to know me somewhat better... (seeing as how this would only be my second post... all of them are on myspace still!)
Now In the Words of a Great friend named Jonathan:
You may now return to your regular lives.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
If a poet had no words, would he leave his poem blank?
I'm not sure about what, but I feel like writing. The emptiness of my thoughts and emotions of the current moment pouring out onto a page. How would that appear? Would a poet, with nothing to write, leave a poem blank?Would a person, with no thoughts on the day, leave a blank page in their journal?If one has no words, one should not speak, yet they do.We carry on conversations without thought sometimes, why do we find words when we have others around.How come sometimes we have no words if there's one certain person in our midst?Maybe it's not that we are at a loss of words, or thought, but that somehow in the translation from thought to sound, it's lost. Perhaps we're not sure how to express ourselves, or how to...well yes express ourselves. Perhaps part of the thought is lost in the thought process, then more is lost in the translation to speech or written hand.Young children speak their minds though, and they know exactly what they mean and what they think. What has happened as we age?Is it that their thoughts are so simplistic that they pass through the channels running from thought to speech so easily without obstruction?Perhaps it is the mere fact that we are hiding ourselves from the world. That we continue to mask who we really are, that we begin to subconsciously filter our thoughts before they are exposed. Then they are not our thoughts at all. They are simply what we wish society to see. Look around you one day and notice, everyone looks "normal". If you were to see someone off beat, wouldn't you think a bit negatively of them?It's this reaction that we fear. As human beings we crave to be loved. Even by complete strangers to some form or level. There are times when we can truly be ourselves. Around other people, or when we are by ourselves. When we put time aside to be with God.Some of us have learned to be ourselves no matter what. Maybe that is why so many people are captivated by poetry.The poets have learned to reveal the nakedness of their thoughts, hearts, souls.
A poet would never leave his poem blank. He would fill his poem with the emptiness of his thoughts. Which in turn, would no longer be emptiness
A poet would never leave his poem blank. He would fill his poem with the emptiness of his thoughts. Which in turn, would no longer be emptiness
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