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Tuesday, September 28, 2010

post #9

Rigged, popcorn texture.

Nearly pure white, wear and tear only taking a slight toll.

Trimmed with dark, rich wood.

Illuminated with yellow light.

A shadow of a fan, dancing across the surface.

I can feel my imagination burning a hole right through it.

It's plain.

And distracting.

Mostly deceptive.

I feel like I'm thinking, like I'm doing,

when really, I'm just staring at the ceiling.

Monday, September 27, 2010

post #8

I feel like every post in this blog is just dripping with teen angst. I figure I'd change that.

I'm a naturally happy person; always have been. I find that it's easier to forget petty problems than to dwell on them. It's easier to take notice of the good things in life. It's easier to give a compliment than an insult. It's easier to smile, rather than frown.

"Happy" is a very basic word, and a very basic feeling. It's a shame that some people don't understand it, or don't feel it. Happiness is feeling light. Happiness is being a light.

Laughter and happiness, for me, are synonymous. The sound of laughter is the most joyful thing in the world. Laughter filling up your chest, lungs, exploding from you, is the most beautiful feeling.

The first time you laugh, or smile, as a child; it's a monumental moment. The first time you feel happiness in your life; it's special, memorable.

No one remembers the first time you cry. They only remember the first time you smiled.

So turn that frown upside down. Don't worry, be happy. It's so freeing, and beautiful to see. If you're sad, fake it 'til you make it. Make happiness a habit, and the rest of the world will follow suit.

post #7

Warning: Dramatic teenager writing. Enter with caution.

Today I'm feeling incompetent. I feel like everyone around me is excelling, and I'm not just coasting, but falling behind. Oh, the melodrama.

My grades have always been good; above average, even. I come from a family of extremely intelligent people, and I am proud to consider myself one of them. Lately, I just feel like I don't belong in that category.

I know what you're thinking; grades don't measure intelligence; it'd be shallow to think so. And I agree. I do think I'm a smart person (... most of the time). I just lack the work ethic, and the drive. It's sad, really. I almost feel like my brain is going to waste. I don't want it to, anymore.

I am a naturally independent person. I always have been. Not even necessarily in the sense that I like to be alone (which usually is true), but in the sense that I don't take help from anyone. Even when I desperately need it.

I desperately need help.

I need the most divine, unyielding, perfect help possible.

What I need, is God's help.

What a cliched, bible school answer. But really, truly, deeply; I need someone to take my stupid, controlling, shaky hands off the steering wheel. I'm driving myself into a black tunnel with no exit.

I need help in more areas than just my work ethic. That's just the half of it. Sadly, when one personality trait is so apparent, this trait being my unnatural need to control everything, it affects every aspect of life. My speech, my actions... my grades.

 I need God's help.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

post #6

Disclaimer: Before I go off on a rant about teachers, I just wanted to say that some of the teachers I've had are the most inspiring, caring people I've been blessed to meet. I will not be revealing the name, or even the gender of this teacher. I just needed to get this off my chest.


The day a teacher talks about a student behind his or her back is the day they completely lose their integrity. Sadly, I have witnessed this multiple times, and recently I have seen it firsthand, with my own eyes and ears.

I really can't describe my anger, and feeling of betrayal. I wasn't even the student who was insulted. I'm not sure why I'm taking it to heart as much as I am. Maybe it's the fact that I've been judged before, and I know how it feels. The fact that a teacher would make a blatantly rude comment about a student to another teacher just completely blows my mind. Teachers are there for the well-being of their students, not the downfall.

Now, they may just be teachers. They may just be doing their job for the money, not for the love of children and whatnot. But honestly, talking about your students negatively is a whole new level of low.

So this student isn't necessarily a friend of mine. Maybe I don't go out of my way to be her best friend. But I certainly do not whisper about her supposed oddities to my best friend. That's just rude. I wouldn't like people talking about me in that way, so I don't do it to others. After this student was done talking to her teacher, this teacher had the audacity to turn to a fellow teacher and whisper, "She's so weird."

I don't know if I'm blowing all of this out of proportion. I don't know if writing an entire blog post about my feelings is necessary. But when I heard those words leave that teacher's lips, and the blank, twisted face they were wearing, anger consumed me so fully that I didn't know how to speak. This is a teacher, a grown-up! I'd expect it from a student. I've experienced it from a student. This teacher told us on the first day of school that they loved teaching, loved children, loved their students. Maybe calling a student "weird" is their way of showing their appreciation.

I highly doubt that.

I really hope this isn't how the entire faculty acts. I hope my views on teachers are skewed. I'd hate to think that the people who are teaching me, giving me knowledge, were also lying, judgmental gossipers.

This whole experience, seeing the situation unfold, taught me that even the people you look up to, the older, wiser ones, aren't who they say. One more name crossed off the list of people I can trust.

Monday, September 20, 2010

post #5

boisterous laughter.
piles of junk food.
sharing headphones.
singing off-key.
this was heaven,
and it was only the journey.

pitch-dark skies,
with gray clouds peppering it.
feet planted in the sand.
jumping waves as they crashed.
this was bliss,
and i'd never forget it.

seeing God's creation at its finest.
the most beautiful fellowship.
completely careless,
but altogether aware.
these are memories at their fondest,
and i wouldn't trade them for the world.

virginia beach, thanks for being kind to me.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

post #4

I think whining is the biggest problem the world has, this day in age.

There once was a teacher who gave a test, like any other teacher. His students complained endlessly, stressed looks painted vividly on their faces. They didn't study. Those students were completely aware that they didn't study. And yet, they continued to make unintentionally hurtful jabs toward this teacher. They probably had no idea. They were too busy stressing, moaning and groaning. Complaining makes you oblivious sometimes.

Honestly? I'm sure the people who weren't complaining are glad they were honest enough with themselves to admit that they didn't study enough, and deserved to do as poorly as they did.

The teacher, unbelievably sensitive and caring as he was, granted the kids an extension, even though they didn't deserve it. I'm sure they feel guilty. But I'd be much worse a person if I sat here, hoping they were feeling at least a little bit guilty. So I'm not. Well, maybe I am a little bit. I'm only human, after all.

This teacher? Easily the kindest man I've ever met in my life, thus far. He didn't deserve to go through what he went through today. Any feelings of incompetence, or regret. He didn't deserve that in the least. He taught me more in that class in the five weeks we've been in school, than in my entire high school career. He didn't deserve the complaining, the whining. I hope he knows that God made him special, and that his students are completely blessed to have him in their lives. I'm completely blessed to have him in my life. I hope my behavior and actions in that class reflect my gratitude for him, because I am just beyond grateful.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

post #3

Friends are the people you share your heart with. The sad, the happy, and especially the awkward. They're the people you make future plans with; wishes at 11:11. You stick with them through the good and the bad, and aren't afraid to tell them anything; especially when they're doing something stupid. You hope they let you know if you're doing something stupid, too. They're your complete opposite, but at the same time, they're your other half. You don't know what you'd do without them.

Friends are the people you go to for guarenteed laughter. Innumerable inside jokes are made, but rarely forgotten, even though there are so many. You know a friend is amazing when you can sing Beatles songs with them all through lunch, and neither of you are the least bit ashamed (even though you should be). They're beautiful from the inside out; you know from all the conversations you've had, ranging in depth. They light up your life in the most beautiful ways.

Friends are the people you admire. You may be older, but you look up to them in ways they probably wouldn't understand. They never judge, and they're always kind. Even when you're speaking worthless drivel, and not completing your thoughts, they know exactly what you're saying, and what you're feeling. You can tell them everything. Everything. You can talk to them for hours and not be bored. You can trust them with your life and know that they'll protect you, whether they know they're trying or not.

Friends are the people that talk your ear off, and they know how you'll react to every single word they say. They make fun of you (jokingly, of course), because they know you'll come back with some sort of hilarious, stuttered comeback. They know you like the back of their own hand. They don't like it when you change, because the love you the way you are. But, they deal. They love you no matter what.

Friends are the most interesting people you know. They're overdramatic sometimes, and it just makes your petty problems disappear. You admire their style, and even more, their natural beauty. You kind of envy them, but not enough to admit, even to yourself. They're talented, and confident in themselves. You envy that, too. You love talking to them, giving advice. You just want the best from them, whether they're up or down. You know they want the same for you, too.

Friends are the people you write notes to in class. You talk about nothing, and everything, all in one. Laughing together makes time fly, and brightens your day. Being around them just makes everything less stressful. You sometimes question how one person can be so funny. Because, really, how is it even possible to be that funny?

Friends are the people with larger than life personalities. They surprise you, and amaze you, with how influential they are. They're hilarious. Always heard. You're so different, but with your friendship, you take a piece of their personality with you, and you love yourself so much more for it.

Friends are the people you talk to with your eyes only. Sometimes a "hello", sometimes "what's up". You look at them, and you just laugh. You've shared many memories, and you don't even need words. Your shared laughter speaks more than words can. Then again, it doesn't speak all that much at all. You're usually laughing about absolutely nothing in the first place.

Friends are the sweet people that you sometimes don't understand. They tell you their thoughts, and laugh at all your jokes, and you just laugh with them. Their laughter is musical, and contagious. Their mannerisms alone are enough to make you smile. They're a mystery sometimes.

In conclusion, I love my friends.

post #2

My alarm goes off, which I programmed as my favorite song. That's always nice. But still, I groan. The bleary light of the morning filters through my windows; it's still dark, for the most part. Mornings are supposed to be bright. This is a sign that I wake up much too early. This isn't news to me; I've been waking up too early five days a week for years. 

It's morning.
I get dressed (in the outfit I laid out the day before. I realize that if I didn't do this, I would be at school an hour later than was expected), and I put my makeup on. This is my favorite part of the morning, yet I still have a frown on my face. It was too early for anyone in the world to be awake, let alone me.

It takes so much strength to get up in the morning.

God is always awake.

If that's not strength at its highest form, then I don't know what is.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

post #1

I've been thinking about this word for a few days now. More building it up within yourself than for other people, though. Tolerance. 
Teenage years are tolerance. Building up enough strength and immunity to face the evil of the ever-elusive "real world". There's evil in high school, too. It takes different forms; insecurity, taunters of the insecure, tyranny (ahem, teachers), pride, envy, and the list goes on. 
How does tolerance come into play? Coming out of high school having learned something is easier said that done. Older people tend to block out their teenage years; too painful, or too insignificant. Only, it isn't. Adults fight the same battles everyday that they did in high school. Their bosses mistreat them. Their coworkers gossip. They don't get that raise that they deserve. The lazy coworker gets the office with the better view. 
Adults are babies. They tell us to grin and bear it, the whole high school experience. If they were to attend the high school of my generation, I'm sure they wouldn't be able to handle it.
They never built up the tolerance.
I haven't even spent two years in high school. Even so, I have learned to appreciate what I have, to ignore those who attack my insecurities, and to respect the dictators teachers that sit in the front of the classroom (really, I'm exaggerating. Most of the teachers aren't that brutal. And yet, some are). I'm numb towards the judgement of others. I feel like I'm strong enough to face so much more than an adult can.
I hope I take something from high school, in the end. If nothing academic, than this lesson of tolerance. Sometimes the things you learn on your own are more significant than what you learn at school.
Maybe I'm naive, short-sighted, quick to judge. Adults have it as hard as I do, if not much, much harder. But from my naive, short-sighted, biased view of the world, I think it'd do everyone a world of good to remember how to overcome battles, however difficult they may be.

Friday, September 10, 2010

this is a filler/intro post.

i don't know for sure how long i plan on keeping this here, but i hate the look of an empty blog. so here i am, filling the void. this blog is for my honors creative writing class. it will probably be a lot of me, spilling my guts. yup, i think that's about it.
i'm not sure if this as much an introduction as it is a filler.
eh, i'd say filler.