Post 16 :: Commonplace? :: Ah, the Irony :: Quotes
I
So. The commonplace post! I'm not sure what to talk about; everything could relate to the essential questions in one way or another, because life is life, and living in it will eventually produce an idea of what kind of world it is and how to continue living in it.
I realize that I'm not the brightest crayon in the box. I have the social skills of a doorknob, and a mouth that works like the Energizer bunny. I have come to accept the two latter items, but one thing that has continued to plague me throughout my years as a hormone-possessed teenager is my own mind. I interpret things in obscure ways and can never quite grasp the situation.
-- I WISH THE PERSON WHO KEEPS COUGHING WOULD EITHER GET OUT, STOP COUGHING, MUFFLE THE NOISE, OR SUCK ON A COUGH DROP, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! I'm pretty sure Brahms Symphony No. 1 Op. 68 did not have loud coughing written into the score, and you know, I get that sometimes it can't be helped. But GODS, man! Muffle it a little, will ya? --
/rant
Anyway, I meant to say: I hate that I can never say the right thing. Yes, the "right" thing is extremely subjective, but I know what I say is never right because it's downright wrong. I pass my whimsical and foolish judgements on others, thinking that perhaps I understand them -- that I can kind of see what's going through his/her head. I need to think a little more, try to understand just a little further.
I say I want to be of help -- to be trusted, to be there when needed. But trust and the like need to be earned. And where am I -- rather, who am I when they talk about it? I think I need to concentrate on being there, first.
II
I practiced flute nearly every day this last week. Playing the scales up and down, trying as hard as possible to stretch that one breath out over too many measures. It shouldn't have been that hard, really. But it was. I still can't play the F major section in one breath. Heck -- I can't even get the notes right!
I practiced piano more than I did for a long, long time this last week. I went through my old pieces, started working out the kinks in a more recent piece, and even tried to sightread through new pieces.
All around, it was a pretty productive week, musically.
And for some reason, I have a weird kink in my finger that the nurse called "something kind of carpal tunnel-like." Most likely caused by how I hold my flute (considering the pain is right where the flute rests). And possibly my playing of the piano after an extremely long period of not practicing. And maybe even the typing I'm doing right now.
Maybe someone's trying to tell me something? Haha...
III
"You bleed just to know you're alive."
~ Hero, Nickelback
" 'You get on their bad side and they'll destroy you!'
'No one would miss me.'
'That's not true--
--I would.' "
~ KHII
"Heaven's not enough / if when I'm there I don't remember you... And heaven does enough / you think you know it and uses you."
~ Heaven's Not Enough, Wolf's Rain
" 'Think I'll pass. My heart just wouldn't be in it, you know? Haven't got one.' "
~ KHII
" 'I'm a fool. I've spent years studying in the workings of the heart. Yet it seems I still haven't learned a thing! ... I try to wrap my mind around things my heart already knows, only to fail."
~ KHII
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
this ain't a scene
Post 15 :: SAT
I
Honestly, I'm doing this at 2:30 AM, and I all I'm hoping is that this is "good enough." I don't feel particularly literate, and I have a headache the size of Texas. I have to wake up in three hours, and I keep wondering why I put myself through this. For grades? For those say, ten extra points? Ten measly points? Really, when I put things in perspective, I realize how trivial some of these things are. And yet, I can see how many trivial things, bunched up together, can form a monster of a problem.
On to the point of the post. The SAT essay. Why is an essay included in a "STANDARDIZED" test? I don't think anything that has to do with expressing an opinion relates to something standardized. In fact, having people grade it makes it even less of a standard, in my opinion. I do understand that writing skills are important, and that the persuasive power of a piece of writing can greatly affect one's future, whether in a job application or a college essay; however, I disagree with including the essay portion in the SAT. Maybe I'm just being nitpicky about the stupidest of things, but I think if you're going to call something standard, it darn better well be standard -- not subjective. OBjective. Standard.
Also, reflecting on what was said in class, what Mr. Watson told us was the exact opposite of what my first semester English teacher told us. Everything was different -- in fact, I could say that everything my first semester teacher said to do, Mr. Watson said not to do it. For example, I was told that more examples are better; however, we just found out that all the sixes had one in-depth example versus several smaller, specific ones. Also, I was told to make a choice: Yes or no. Not somewhere inbetween. Now, I am being told otherwise.
This is another reason I have a problem with the essay portion of the SAT being called "standardized." The difference in the opinions of two people can be anywhere from a small gap to the grand canyon.
One thing Mr. Watson brought up was the aforementioned choosing a side. I think you should be able to get a six by picking a side. What's wrong with choosing a side and persuading the audience? Or showing them your opinion clearly and decisively. Yes, there are an infinite number of variables involved. Yes, the level of complexity involved in 99% of the SAT essay prompts is far beyond a simple yes or no; however, I think a point-of-view essay is what they asked for. Right? So why can't we state an opinion?
I'd like to point any readers in the direction of Elise's blog, which I'm too lazy to link to. Her views are always interesting, and her writing is clear, as well as concise. Hard-hitting, one could say.
II
"I am an arms dealer, fitting you with weapons in the form of words..."
-- This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race, Fallout Boy
"It is impossible to love and be wise."
-- Francis Bacon
" 'You shouldn't exist.'
'How can you say that? Even if it is true.' "
-- KHII
I
Honestly, I'm doing this at 2:30 AM, and I all I'm hoping is that this is "good enough." I don't feel particularly literate, and I have a headache the size of Texas. I have to wake up in three hours, and I keep wondering why I put myself through this. For grades? For those say, ten extra points? Ten measly points? Really, when I put things in perspective, I realize how trivial some of these things are. And yet, I can see how many trivial things, bunched up together, can form a monster of a problem.
On to the point of the post. The SAT essay. Why is an essay included in a "STANDARDIZED" test? I don't think anything that has to do with expressing an opinion relates to something standardized. In fact, having people grade it makes it even less of a standard, in my opinion. I do understand that writing skills are important, and that the persuasive power of a piece of writing can greatly affect one's future, whether in a job application or a college essay; however, I disagree with including the essay portion in the SAT. Maybe I'm just being nitpicky about the stupidest of things, but I think if you're going to call something standard, it darn better well be standard -- not subjective. OBjective. Standard.
Also, reflecting on what was said in class, what Mr. Watson told us was the exact opposite of what my first semester English teacher told us. Everything was different -- in fact, I could say that everything my first semester teacher said to do, Mr. Watson said not to do it. For example, I was told that more examples are better; however, we just found out that all the sixes had one in-depth example versus several smaller, specific ones. Also, I was told to make a choice: Yes or no. Not somewhere inbetween. Now, I am being told otherwise.
This is another reason I have a problem with the essay portion of the SAT being called "standardized." The difference in the opinions of two people can be anywhere from a small gap to the grand canyon.
One thing Mr. Watson brought up was the aforementioned choosing a side. I think you should be able to get a six by picking a side. What's wrong with choosing a side and persuading the audience? Or showing them your opinion clearly and decisively. Yes, there are an infinite number of variables involved. Yes, the level of complexity involved in 99% of the SAT essay prompts is far beyond a simple yes or no; however, I think a point-of-view essay is what they asked for. Right? So why can't we state an opinion?
I'd like to point any readers in the direction of Elise's blog, which I'm too lazy to link to. Her views are always interesting, and her writing is clear, as well as concise. Hard-hitting, one could say.
II
"I am an arms dealer, fitting you with weapons in the form of words..."
-- This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race, Fallout Boy
"It is impossible to love and be wise."
-- Francis Bacon
" 'You shouldn't exist.'
'How can you say that? Even if it is true.' "
-- KHII
Sunday, February 25, 2007
uncertain dreams, nineteen years old. uncertain lies, nineteen years old
Post 14 :: SAT Essay
I have a lot of trouble with SAT essays -- especially if I don't have any particular connection with the subject. I hope to improve along the course of sophomore and junior year, but... -____-;;; Ah well.
---
Today, media is all around us; technology takes bigger leaps every day, and media springs along with it. What we hear and take in from the media (our surroundings) greatly determines what and how we think of our world.
Nowadays, most people drive home with the radio on; when they get home, they turn on the television to watch the news. The television, the radio, the internet, the newspaper -- everywhere we turn, the media is feeding us news and selected articles, and although some of us would like to think that we have formulated our own interests and opinions on what is important, I think most of this shaping comes to us through the media. When we turn the television on and hear stories of murder, rape, and robbery, we begin to fear for our safety. Violence and avoidance of said violence become our priority. "If it bleeds, it sells" is what influences our thoughts. In this way, the media can change a person's thinking, and in turn, change what they think is important.
Another example of the media changing the priorities of the public lies in the blogs we created as an English class. When someone starts out with a set idea, they set about writing their blog entries based on their sense of "this is what was important." Then, others see and comment on that entry. When his/her ideas are tested, or perhaps as he/she reads the thoughts of others, a different path is revealed, and it seems more logical to head down that one. For example, I wrote an entry about an essay called "The Singer Solution to World Poverty." What stuck out the most for me was the author's high and mighty approach; it seemed like the author, though he didn't follow his own solution, deigned it appropriate for him to look down on his readers and their "cushy" lives. That was all I drew from the article.
Then, I happened across a friend's blog. As I read, I began to notice that what she drew from the essay (what she thought was important) lay on a completely different path, so to speak. She questioned her responsibilities versus simple dislike for the author. There was quite a difference in what we thought was important; however, I began to think more and more about what she thought -- what one could do as an individual and what one is responsible for -- and I began to see something new. I came away from those assignments with a completely new viewpoint, drawing from it opinions that I never would have formulated had it not been for new "media."
Media has an extremely strong say in what is important. When I was younger, I wasn't nearly as shallow as I am now. That's because when I was small, I didn't care about the fashion models strutting across the walkway in their underwear. I didn't care how skinny and beautiful they were; I changed the channel and watched Pokemon instead. But now, I watch shows like "Grey's Anatomy" and "America's Next Top Model." When I see all those beautiful people, what is important slowly changes. It wasn't voluntary, either.
Media does change the way we think and what we think about, as well as its position on our list of priorities. What we see on T.V., hear on the radio, read about in the newspaper or off blogs: All of these things determine what we think is important, even if we don't intend to let them do so.
---
-edit- a little extra doodle to the side.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
i keep trying to face the day
Post 13 :: Reflection :: Lucky Number 13 :: Too Much :: Interests :: Support + Money vs. Happiness
I
3. Reflect on all your posts up to this point. Then revisit your essential questions. Write a post in which you discuss what you now know regarding your questions. Do you need to explore further? Have your questions changed?
Frankly, I can't even remember what the essential questions were, which defeats the purpose of my making entries. Of course, I could have remembered them when I was making those posts. Oh well. The original essential questions had to do with determining what type of world this is and how to live in it, correct? If we set out to answer these questions from the get-go, it was probably assumed that we had no idea. And, if I had no idea then, why should I have an idea now? I think it's just a little pointless to spend time trying to figure out what kind of world this is -- to pin one outfit on and keep it there. Oh -- I guess I have figured something out, then. From my blog, my friends' blogs, and their entries, I mean. The world will always change. So will the people living in it, as well as their ideals and interests. Some things come together and work like clockwork. Some things fall apart. I suppose this is where another question comes up:
How far should we push before pulling back?
How far should we chase something out of a sense of familiarity? How can we determine how valuable something is without losing it first? How do we know if this feeling of needing something is based on a selfish need for a fall-back or on a sense of true comraderie?
When is it time to let go?
I got a little off-topic there, I think. But those could serve as new essential questions.
II
So... Numbered post number 13 has come about. This isn't actually the thirteenth post -- it's the fifteenth -- but I numbered them like this, so... Thirteen.
Why is it considered a bad luck number?
If believing in things makes things so, why is it so hard to stop believing that certain things will bring misfortune? Is trying hard not to believe in something the same thing as believing? Giving it attention and thought.
III
How much is too much?
How much should we take before realizing that what we think we need and what we want don't lie in the same direction? What if we've already realized this and don't do anything about it? Is this wrong? When do we cross "the line"? Is there a definite line? Why do we waver, coming and going across the line? Do we really waver, in our hearts? When logical thought is taken from the picture, do things become clearer?
When should we feel, and when should we think?
IV
I'm interested in a lot of weird things. Things people my age wouldn't really be interested in. Or... at least, not the people in my immediate surroundings. Is this wrong? I know my parents try not to think about it as much; I can see it and hear it when they don't respond or change the subject smoothly. I realize that I should do what makes me happy -- but where is the line between happiness for oneself and selfishness/refusal to change for someone else? Should we ever be required to change for someone else? I usually try not to think about these kinds of things, because it gets me nowhere, and I'm always more lost at the end of it than I was at the beginning. But really.
If one changes for someone else, compromising his/her happiness and going with the flow, is that right? Or is a refusal to accept those who don't accept his/her opinions right? Where's the happy midway point? Can you be halfway between the two without being called a hypocrite? I'm not expressing this the way I want to. It just... doesn't come out right. What would the world be like if we spoke through thought and mental images? Would we get along if we could understand? Or would those thoughts and mental images just be contorted and used against us?
I ramble too much. And each path I take leads me farther from my original thought.
Is it true that every time you sigh, you get shorter?
...
If you're still reading, stop reading.
V
Hah. It started out as kind of a joke. You know, just a "what-if."
" 'If I said I wanted to go to art school, what would you say?'
'...'
'I mean, I know I'd have to get another job or something, because it'd be hard to make a living in such an unstable field, but...'
'Well, you know, art school is okay, but...'
'But?'
'Well... It's just that you need to make a living -- support yourself... I don't know. If you didn't have the grades you have...'
'What does that mean?' "
So now that my grades are dropping, is it all right? I realize that going to art school isn't the best idea for me; my talent isn't on par with my ambition, and I'd struggle, both with money and life in general.
But I love to draw.
Or do I? When things like this roll around, I start to question what I like, what I need, what I want. Do I like to draw? Yes, it relaxes me. Yes, it's considerable stress relief. I feel like... But could I do it for a living? Will I still be interested in it ten years down the line? I don't know. I do know that I don't have the skill for it. I'm not sure I ever will. Should I stop pursuing it?
I don't know why I asked if I wasn't intending to go to art school in the first place. I mean, yes, I ... Actually, I was considering it, but now I'm not so sure. Financial security is beginning to sound really nice, and insecurity, the more it's talked about, is sounding less and less appealing. SVA would have been nice. That Art Institute up in Washington sounded neat. But I need to go to a college that will give me a "solid undergraduate," so that when I pursue what I really want, I will have something to fall back on.
How much do we have to "endure" before we can reach for what we really want? Should we have to endure things? I realize that failure is all-too real an option, and that anything in the arts business is extremely risky for someone of my mediocre-or-less skill level. And yet I want to reach for it. I wanted to go for it. But now, I don't think I will. My parents say I can try to go to something like the Art Institute after I graduate from a different college, but college is so expensive. I don't want to trouble my family out of my selfish want to follow a dream that might not come true. And I realize I'm being spoiled and whiny and EMO about it all; I don't know that I'll still want to do this a few years down the line. In fact, I don't even know if I'll still want what I do when I graduate from high school. I guess... I just wanted... I don't know what I wanted. Maybe support? Faith? Who knows?
I'll try for normal colleges, so I can fall back on a normal job. I keep saying "fall back." It's like assuming I'm going to fail at whatever I choose to reach for. I know it never hurts to be prepared, and that it's stupid to go into life without a backup plan, but... I don't know.
How high can I go? How far?
How high am I allowed to aim before faith turns into foolishness?
-edit-
Ugh. I know it's selfish. I know it's stupid. Tuition went up AGAIN this year, and I know my parents would expect something out of their fifteen grand a year. If I could be successful like my Aunt, maybe. Like that.
I just thought it was neat, y'know? That these video game designers and character artists -- their work is proof that they existed. Their work entertained people -- children, teens, maybe even adults or elderly folk. Maybe made them laugh, possibly even cry. I mean... even after they're gone. Say Nomura Tetsuya. Even after he passes on, we'll remember him. He existed.
Is that what this is all about? Proof of existence? Am I so desperate for some kind of self-validation?
... Do we need others to validate ourselves?
I
3. Reflect on all your posts up to this point. Then revisit your essential questions. Write a post in which you discuss what you now know regarding your questions. Do you need to explore further? Have your questions changed?
Frankly, I can't even remember what the essential questions were, which defeats the purpose of my making entries. Of course, I could have remembered them when I was making those posts. Oh well. The original essential questions had to do with determining what type of world this is and how to live in it, correct? If we set out to answer these questions from the get-go, it was probably assumed that we had no idea. And, if I had no idea then, why should I have an idea now? I think it's just a little pointless to spend time trying to figure out what kind of world this is -- to pin one outfit on and keep it there. Oh -- I guess I have figured something out, then. From my blog, my friends' blogs, and their entries, I mean. The world will always change. So will the people living in it, as well as their ideals and interests. Some things come together and work like clockwork. Some things fall apart. I suppose this is where another question comes up:
How far should we push before pulling back?
How far should we chase something out of a sense of familiarity? How can we determine how valuable something is without losing it first? How do we know if this feeling of needing something is based on a selfish need for a fall-back or on a sense of true comraderie?
When is it time to let go?
I got a little off-topic there, I think. But those could serve as new essential questions.
II
So... Numbered post number 13 has come about. This isn't actually the thirteenth post -- it's the fifteenth -- but I numbered them like this, so... Thirteen.
Why is it considered a bad luck number?
If believing in things makes things so, why is it so hard to stop believing that certain things will bring misfortune? Is trying hard not to believe in something the same thing as believing? Giving it attention and thought.
III
How much is too much?
How much should we take before realizing that what we think we need and what we want don't lie in the same direction? What if we've already realized this and don't do anything about it? Is this wrong? When do we cross "the line"? Is there a definite line? Why do we waver, coming and going across the line? Do we really waver, in our hearts? When logical thought is taken from the picture, do things become clearer?
When should we feel, and when should we think?
IV
I'm interested in a lot of weird things. Things people my age wouldn't really be interested in. Or... at least, not the people in my immediate surroundings. Is this wrong? I know my parents try not to think about it as much; I can see it and hear it when they don't respond or change the subject smoothly. I realize that I should do what makes me happy -- but where is the line between happiness for oneself and selfishness/refusal to change for someone else? Should we ever be required to change for someone else? I usually try not to think about these kinds of things, because it gets me nowhere, and I'm always more lost at the end of it than I was at the beginning. But really.
If one changes for someone else, compromising his/her happiness and going with the flow, is that right? Or is a refusal to accept those who don't accept his/her opinions right? Where's the happy midway point? Can you be halfway between the two without being called a hypocrite? I'm not expressing this the way I want to. It just... doesn't come out right. What would the world be like if we spoke through thought and mental images? Would we get along if we could understand? Or would those thoughts and mental images just be contorted and used against us?
I ramble too much. And each path I take leads me farther from my original thought.
Is it true that every time you sigh, you get shorter?
...
If you're still reading, stop reading.
V
Hah. It started out as kind of a joke. You know, just a "what-if."
" 'If I said I wanted to go to art school, what would you say?'
'...'
'I mean, I know I'd have to get another job or something, because it'd be hard to make a living in such an unstable field, but...'
'Well, you know, art school is okay, but...'
'But?'
'Well... It's just that you need to make a living -- support yourself... I don't know. If you didn't have the grades you have...'
'What does that mean?' "
So now that my grades are dropping, is it all right? I realize that going to art school isn't the best idea for me; my talent isn't on par with my ambition, and I'd struggle, both with money and life in general.
But I love to draw.
Or do I? When things like this roll around, I start to question what I like, what I need, what I want. Do I like to draw? Yes, it relaxes me. Yes, it's considerable stress relief. I feel like... But could I do it for a living? Will I still be interested in it ten years down the line? I don't know. I do know that I don't have the skill for it. I'm not sure I ever will. Should I stop pursuing it?
I don't know why I asked if I wasn't intending to go to art school in the first place. I mean, yes, I ... Actually, I was considering it, but now I'm not so sure. Financial security is beginning to sound really nice, and insecurity, the more it's talked about, is sounding less and less appealing. SVA would have been nice. That Art Institute up in Washington sounded neat. But I need to go to a college that will give me a "solid undergraduate," so that when I pursue what I really want, I will have something to fall back on.
How much do we have to "endure" before we can reach for what we really want? Should we have to endure things? I realize that failure is all-too real an option, and that anything in the arts business is extremely risky for someone of my mediocre-or-less skill level. And yet I want to reach for it. I wanted to go for it. But now, I don't think I will. My parents say I can try to go to something like the Art Institute after I graduate from a different college, but college is so expensive. I don't want to trouble my family out of my selfish want to follow a dream that might not come true. And I realize I'm being spoiled and whiny and EMO about it all; I don't know that I'll still want to do this a few years down the line. In fact, I don't even know if I'll still want what I do when I graduate from high school. I guess... I just wanted... I don't know what I wanted. Maybe support? Faith? Who knows?
I'll try for normal colleges, so I can fall back on a normal job. I keep saying "fall back." It's like assuming I'm going to fail at whatever I choose to reach for. I know it never hurts to be prepared, and that it's stupid to go into life without a backup plan, but... I don't know.
How high can I go? How far?
How high am I allowed to aim before faith turns into foolishness?
-edit-
Ugh. I know it's selfish. I know it's stupid. Tuition went up AGAIN this year, and I know my parents would expect something out of their fifteen grand a year. If I could be successful like my Aunt, maybe. Like that.
I just thought it was neat, y'know? That these video game designers and character artists -- their work is proof that they existed. Their work entertained people -- children, teens, maybe even adults or elderly folk. Maybe made them laugh, possibly even cry. I mean... even after they're gone. Say Nomura Tetsuya. Even after he passes on, we'll remember him. He existed.
Is that what this is all about? Proof of existence? Am I so desperate for some kind of self-validation?
... Do we need others to validate ourselves?
Sunday, February 18, 2007
we were meant to live for so much more
Post 12 :: This I Believe
http://jess09english.podOmatic.com
^ This I Believe, recorded, tampered with on GarageBand, and uploaded to the interweb using podomatic.
See previous post for the written version.
http://jess09english.podOmatic.com
^ This I Believe, recorded, tampered with on GarageBand, and uploaded to the interweb using podomatic.
See previous post for the written version.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
the girl i used to be has a terrible case of mistaken identity
Post 11 :: Description of a Place
It's almost as if there are two different worlds slipping together, edges sliding and overlapping seamlessly -- one in sunlight, the other in shadow.
The sunlight bounces off the grass, illuminating thin emerald blades with a golden shine; the shadows cast only accentuate the brightness, and though they swallow half the pond of grass, there, emerald becomes jade and melts into darkness, leaving all but everything to the imagination. The pointed leaves of a crooked tree flow over its branches like the waters of a fountain, brushing against broader, rounded leaves, attached to shorter, more delicate plants. They lean against the wall, silent, waiting.
Waiting for what, I wonder. Or for whom?
Each leaf is tinged with a bit of honey, sweet and waxy all the same; the sandy color bleeds easily into the green and contrasts with the maroon next to it, all in the same moment -- the same glance. Red-violet leaves, beautiful and foreboding, lie in shade against the grainy wall, casting shadows upon itself as doubts upon men, flickering ever so slightly in my vision. What would they look like in the sunlight?
Bold, dark leaves and thin, twisted trees.
So close to the light, and yet so far.
Or are they closer than we'll ever be?
"The closer you are to light, the larger your shadow becomes."
It's almost as if there are two different worlds slipping together, edges sliding and overlapping seamlessly -- one in sunlight, the other in shadow.
The sunlight bounces off the grass, illuminating thin emerald blades with a golden shine; the shadows cast only accentuate the brightness, and though they swallow half the pond of grass, there, emerald becomes jade and melts into darkness, leaving all but everything to the imagination. The pointed leaves of a crooked tree flow over its branches like the waters of a fountain, brushing against broader, rounded leaves, attached to shorter, more delicate plants. They lean against the wall, silent, waiting.
Waiting for what, I wonder. Or for whom?
Each leaf is tinged with a bit of honey, sweet and waxy all the same; the sandy color bleeds easily into the green and contrasts with the maroon next to it, all in the same moment -- the same glance. Red-violet leaves, beautiful and foreboding, lie in shade against the grainy wall, casting shadows upon itself as doubts upon men, flickering ever so slightly in my vision. What would they look like in the sunlight?
Bold, dark leaves and thin, twisted trees.
So close to the light, and yet so far.
Or are they closer than we'll ever be?
"The closer you are to light, the larger your shadow becomes."
Sunday, February 11, 2007
g-o-o-d bye
Post 10 :: Assigned Post
School... is not in my best interests anymore. Maybe I burned myself out freshman year. I don't feel any of that drive. I feel the undertow, pulling at my ankles, telling me that I need to get good grades, feeding me disappointment and sucking me under if I don't. I don't want to study and spend my life -- "the best years of my life" -- studying and working for something I don't really "believe in," but lately, all I think about is how I'm falling behind in classes, how I need to work my ass off trying to maintain my expectations (as well as my parents'), and how none if it really clicks with me. What am I doing? Where am I headed? What am I going to do with my life? What happens if my grades do drop? What happens when everything just stops? What happens when college app time rolls around and I have no idea what I want to do? What if I go to a college and find out it's not the one for me? What if I can't find a job?
I'm so stressed about every little thing nowadays. Life has lost its sparkle.
Or rather, it's all fun until something is due, or until I have to cram for a test. Or when I have to play in a concert/ensemble.
I'm currently wondering if my taking honors/AP classes is worth the stress and ... general un-fun-ness it brings. Should I slack and have fun, but be unprepared for college? Or should I keep going through hell as I know it? "When you're going through hell, keep going." But when will it end? When I graduate from high school? When I get a job? When I retire?
When I die?
What are we doing with our lives? When we compare this with what we want to do, how do they stand together? Which one stands taller? Should it?
School... is not in my best interests anymore. Maybe I burned myself out freshman year. I don't feel any of that drive. I feel the undertow, pulling at my ankles, telling me that I need to get good grades, feeding me disappointment and sucking me under if I don't. I don't want to study and spend my life -- "the best years of my life" -- studying and working for something I don't really "believe in," but lately, all I think about is how I'm falling behind in classes, how I need to work my ass off trying to maintain my expectations (as well as my parents'), and how none if it really clicks with me. What am I doing? Where am I headed? What am I going to do with my life? What happens if my grades do drop? What happens when everything just stops? What happens when college app time rolls around and I have no idea what I want to do? What if I go to a college and find out it's not the one for me? What if I can't find a job?
I'm so stressed about every little thing nowadays. Life has lost its sparkle.
Or rather, it's all fun until something is due, or until I have to cram for a test. Or when I have to play in a concert/ensemble.
I'm currently wondering if my taking honors/AP classes is worth the stress and ... general un-fun-ness it brings. Should I slack and have fun, but be unprepared for college? Or should I keep going through hell as I know it? "When you're going through hell, keep going." But when will it end? When I graduate from high school? When I get a job? When I retire?
When I die?
What are we doing with our lives? When we compare this with what we want to do, how do they stand together? Which one stands taller? Should it?
Friday, February 9, 2007
an unreliable map is better off burned
Post 9.5 :: Daily Mess
So... Today, I was reminded of how rare good (and real) friends are. I was reminded of how it feels to want something badly and not have the ability to take it back. I was reminded of why I always tried not to expect things of people. I'm beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, expectations may not be the best idea. Believing in others has become difficult for me lately; I wonder why. The only ones I will believe in are my closest friends. Those select few who I would trust with my life.
Bringing up the subject of belief raises two questions for me:
+ What or who should we believe in?
+ Is it better to expect and be disappointed or to not expect and be right?
So... Today, I was reminded of how rare good (and real) friends are. I was reminded of how it feels to want something badly and not have the ability to take it back. I was reminded of why I always tried not to expect things of people. I'm beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, expectations may not be the best idea. Believing in others has become difficult for me lately; I wonder why. The only ones I will believe in are my closest friends. Those select few who I would trust with my life.
Bringing up the subject of belief raises two questions for me:
+ What or who should we believe in?
+ Is it better to expect and be disappointed or to not expect and be right?
Monday, February 5, 2007
we are fighting dreamers -- aim for the top!
Post 9 :: Daily Rambling :: More Thoughts on "This I Believe"
I
You know, while I may gripe about how my life sucks, when I put things in perspective, the situation changes. While I was watching television with my dad the other night, I saw an interview with Michael J. Fox on one of the channels. (An actor, forced into retirement by Parkinson's disease.) He mentioned a story I thought was interesting:
God gathered the people who complained their problems were worse than everyone else's in a circle and had them place their nastiest problems in the middle. He then offered them the chance to exchange their problem for another's. They each took back their own problem.
... And it's how you think about it, right? So think positive, self!
I'm going to start practicing flute again. I'm going to start playing piano again. I'm going to draw, prepare for Kawaii Kon, and concentrate on getting that A- or higher on my AP Chem test. I'm going to think positive, and I'm going to think about the things that are important, not the things that only end up making me confused and/or upset.
II
Sometimes, it seems like life is one giant pain in the rear. It seems like only after I've fallen in a puddle will I slam my pinky finger in the door, lose a valuable ring, and fail a chemistry test. It seems like all life does is kick me when I'm already down; I think, "Gods, this sucks" or "Why does my life have to be so... so bad?" When it feels like things just can't get worse, they do.
Spiraling down into an endless abyss of worry and stress, I snap at what or whoever is stupid enough to cross my path. I think things like, "They can't understand," "You can't help me" or "Leave me alone" when they try to give me advice. When normal methods of cheering myself up don't work, I end up giving up; I think, "It'll run its course." But when it doesn't, I get frustrated. Everything irks me, goes wrong -- nothing makes me happy anymore.
When things like this happen, there's only one thing that brings me back to myself: Friendship.
I'm not one for sappy sentiments; I don't think love can save everything. I don't think things repair themselves with a single apology. There are no magic words that make the pain vanish; all the fancy, lace-trimmed words in the world won't make a problem go away. And even though I think this, I believe the simple presence of someone else can make the load seem lighter -- make the knot less complicated, if you will.
It won't solve everything, and it certainly won't save anyone, but it gives me the first step I need to drag myself out of the whirlpool. Someone who will simply listen is an incredible blessing -- and the thing is: It's not about that friend's ability to give advice or to sympathize. It's the idea that someone exists who will listen and be there, like one of those inner tubes that I used to love so much as a child. It's the knowledge that I'm not alone, that someone is there to support me. It's the knowledge that someone wants to see me happy.
Every time I think about my friends, I realize again how lucky I really am. I am grateful for the friend who made me notecards, each one giving me a reason to believe in myself. It wasn't what was written on those cards that made me smile. It was the thought. The simple thought of someone being there for me, trying to cheer me up through the bad times.
I am grateful for the friend I could call at 10 o'clock at night for an hour and a half -- who ended up just... listening most of the, if not the entire, time. And sometimes, nothing was said. I was grateful for her being there, lending an ear -- even if it was only over the phone. She let me get everything off my chest. Everything felt lighter after that conversation. I'm not saying it was magically better. It was just... looking at the situation through new eyes.
I believe in friendship, and that it is not always necessary to know exactly what to do or what to say -- that maybe it's not necessary to say anything at all. Sometimes all that matters is being there and believing. This I believe.
I
You know, while I may gripe about how my life sucks, when I put things in perspective, the situation changes. While I was watching television with my dad the other night, I saw an interview with Michael J. Fox on one of the channels. (An actor, forced into retirement by Parkinson's disease.) He mentioned a story I thought was interesting:
God gathered the people who complained their problems were worse than everyone else's in a circle and had them place their nastiest problems in the middle. He then offered them the chance to exchange their problem for another's. They each took back their own problem.
... And it's how you think about it, right? So think positive, self!
I'm going to start practicing flute again. I'm going to start playing piano again. I'm going to draw, prepare for Kawaii Kon, and concentrate on getting that A- or higher on my AP Chem test. I'm going to think positive, and I'm going to think about the things that are important, not the things that only end up making me confused and/or upset.
II
Sometimes, it seems like life is one giant pain in the rear. It seems like only after I've fallen in a puddle will I slam my pinky finger in the door, lose a valuable ring, and fail a chemistry test. It seems like all life does is kick me when I'm already down; I think, "Gods, this sucks" or "Why does my life have to be so... so bad?" When it feels like things just can't get worse, they do.
Spiraling down into an endless abyss of worry and stress, I snap at what or whoever is stupid enough to cross my path. I think things like, "They can't understand," "You can't help me" or "Leave me alone" when they try to give me advice. When normal methods of cheering myself up don't work, I end up giving up; I think, "It'll run its course." But when it doesn't, I get frustrated. Everything irks me, goes wrong -- nothing makes me happy anymore.
When things like this happen, there's only one thing that brings me back to myself: Friendship.
I'm not one for sappy sentiments; I don't think love can save everything. I don't think things repair themselves with a single apology. There are no magic words that make the pain vanish; all the fancy, lace-trimmed words in the world won't make a problem go away. And even though I think this, I believe the simple presence of someone else can make the load seem lighter -- make the knot less complicated, if you will.
It won't solve everything, and it certainly won't save anyone, but it gives me the first step I need to drag myself out of the whirlpool. Someone who will simply listen is an incredible blessing -- and the thing is: It's not about that friend's ability to give advice or to sympathize. It's the idea that someone exists who will listen and be there, like one of those inner tubes that I used to love so much as a child. It's the knowledge that I'm not alone, that someone is there to support me. It's the knowledge that someone wants to see me happy.
Every time I think about my friends, I realize again how lucky I really am. I am grateful for the friend who made me notecards, each one giving me a reason to believe in myself. It wasn't what was written on those cards that made me smile. It was the thought. The simple thought of someone being there for me, trying to cheer me up through the bad times.
I am grateful for the friend I could call at 10 o'clock at night for an hour and a half -- who ended up just... listening most of the, if not the entire, time. And sometimes, nothing was said. I was grateful for her being there, lending an ear -- even if it was only over the phone. She let me get everything off my chest. Everything felt lighter after that conversation. I'm not saying it was magically better. It was just... looking at the situation through new eyes.
I believe in friendship, and that it is not always necessary to know exactly what to do or what to say -- that maybe it's not necessary to say anything at all. Sometimes all that matters is being there and believing. This I believe.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Post 8 :: This I Believe Notes
I believe it is better to have done something than nothing at all.
-- live life as it is; roll with the punches
Everything will work out somehow, whether it be good or bad. But bad experiences only enhance the good ones, and they teach us what we need to know for the next time we come to a crossroads.
Too vague? Too general?
Something to do with art?
-- Expressing emotions through other media
-- Influenced by things around me
-- stress-relief
I believe it is better to have done something than nothing at all.
-- live life as it is; roll with the punches
Everything will work out somehow, whether it be good or bad. But bad experiences only enhance the good ones, and they teach us what we need to know for the next time we come to a crossroads.
Too vague? Too general?
Something to do with art?
-- Expressing emotions through other media
-- Influenced by things around me
-- stress-relief
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)