to the one person in germany that so graciously reads my ever so interesting blog, i apologize for not posting.

I have ever so luckily managed to have a very hectic, slightly depressing, and unsuccessful two years. With its minor ups and major downs, I have managed to disappoint my parents in every facet possible. I have managed to ruin and end a year and a half long relationship with the one person who seemed to understand me, appreciate my unconventional interests, and managed to somehow put up with my never-ending bullshit. I have managed to join another seemingly fruitful, invigorating relationship with another person who also manages to love me despite my emotional banters and unwarranted mood swings. I have even managed to fall elusively under the enchanting spell of various male sirens despite finding love again. I have lost all previous acquired common sense and every possible sense of potential academic success. Despite this, I have managed to graduate high-school and attend a dreadful four year university. And I have managed to become possibly the most conceited, self-absorbed person in the entire freaking universe, to say the absolute least.

Because of this, I haven't posted on my thriving (I say "thriving" in the most sarcastic of terms) blog in about 2 years. So, I apologize in advance if my quality of writing is completely sub par.

So, I guess in this post, I will confirm this newly gained sense of conceited-ness, and talk about my "hectic, slightly depressing, and unsuccessful 2 years."

I can't even begin to fathom the idea of not posting in over 700 days. I have become a completely different person. I am no longer an outspoken, sassy fifteen year old complaining about life and people and family and milky ways. I am no longer a halfway decent writer. I am no longer the Shads I was so proud to be.

Reading through all of these old posts, written by an outspoken sophomore in high school, made me realize how much I dearly missed writing. I haven't written for enjoyment in...well...years.

This blog is not for readers in Germany to be utterly blown away by how I am able to combine SAT vocabulary words into a somewhat coherent sentence. This blog is for me. It always has been. It allows me to vent...to blow off the never ending steam that has sunken deep into my heart, fighting for a way to get out.

I want to revisit the past two years in this post. Of course there is no way in hell I will be able to go through all of the specific events that used to cause such a panic in my small brain; however, I will recount the important events and go from there.

In May of 2013, I graduated high school. Senior year was an adventurous time to say the absolute least. After being dumped by a boy I thought I would spend at least another few months infatuating over, I was lonely and lost and confused and sad...I hated myself. I found myself seeking happiness from others. I was losing myself in a sea of horny pubescent boys. When senior year hit, I attempted to start over. I had high hopes of getting straight A's and getting into Harvard or some pretentious ivy league of equal or lesser value. Distracted by boys, intimidating AP English teachers, and the never-ending high school drama, my grades plummeted. I managed to get into some pretty good schools (mainly because I had a pretty killer essay and a shitload of experience). I also managed to be swept of my feet by a daringly handsome seventeen year old with an extremely attractive jaw.

When it came down to choosing schools/major/life path, I was utterly confused. I knew exactly what my parents wanted. They wanted me to attend a cheap, relatively high-ranking state school and major in a field that would garner an excessive amount of mullah.

I wanted something completely different. I wanted to go to a small liberal arts women's college and major in a field that I loved. Something like english or teaching or astronomy...

I had no say in the matter. We can all assume where I ended up.

I cried and cried and cried until my eyes shriveled up from the sudden lack of moisture. Having no say in where I wanted to go to college truly saddened me to no end. I was frustrated, infuriated, and insulted that my happiness was of no importance...

I managed to bring my grades up towards the end of senior year. I graduated with honors and I made my family mildly proud of my accomplishments (even though graduating high school is expected and should not necessarily be classified as an "accomplishment" in my family). On graduation day, I heard more of:

"Make us proud in college."
"This is your life, don't mess it up."
"It's all on you now."
"Life isn't going to get easier."

than:

"Congratulations, sweetie!"
"I'm so proud of you!"
"We love you!"

After graduation, summer hit. I spent a week at my new academic home, so to speak, and I learned to love it. I suddenly became excited about the upcoming fall semester. During the summer, I spent a lot of time with friends, family, and my new found love interest while also being consumed with a crazy diet (I managed to somehow lose 10 lbs. by the end of summer).

My mediocre summer quickly came to an end and I was stuck with buying school supplies, dorm accessories, and a large amount of other meaningless crap to prepare for college. I was petrified by the idea of college. I was convinced that wasn't ready to embark on this new life. I had to make new friends, get involved in clubs, be social, while attempting to attain a decent GPA by the end of the semester.

When move in day came, I don't think I was prepared for the sudden joy I acquired so quickly. I was making friends and having fun. It was marvelous.

As the weeks went on, I was making more friends, being social, getting involved, and avoiding my parents. Things were great...

Suddenly, I hit a major roadblock. People were always in my room. I realized I was only making friends from the male species. I wasn't getting my work done. My grades were plummeting. I cheated on my boyfriend. I was doing things I would've NEVER done in my high school days. I was becoming more aggressive. I wasn't being myself...

I was losing myself.

I began to quickly hate my school. I hated it for the disgusting, sexist, racist, disrespectful white boys I was, for some odd reason, becoming friends with. I hated it for the super smart kids who would refuse to help me with my physics homework. I hated it for the boys that tried to get in my pants. I hated it for the constant sh** I had to deal with on a daily basis.

I realized I needed a change.

It took me some time (and it's still in the works), but I am getting it together. And the semester is far from over.

So, that's where I am at this current moment. I am alive. I am prospering...somewhat. I am trying my best.

I am going to try to continue posting. I honestly believe that posting is the only way I will stay sane this semester.

Well, that's all I have for now. Thank you, my dear readers. And a special thank you to that one person in Germany. I finally posted.

do not call me a hipster, for i am not that mainstream.

It's quite depressing, actually, to be called a hipster.

A "hipster" is a classification of a new generation of modern people, usually young adults that "defy" society, who blast indie pop into their vintage CD players (because iPod's are too mainstream), who wear Ray Ban's and high waist-ed pants, and who take well-focused, high quality pictures of themselves smoking weed (while posting those lovely pictures to their Tumblr account).

I am not a hipster. Unfortunately, I'm always classified as one simply because I do hate the rules society has put into place, I do blast indie pop on vintage CD players (only because I'm very fond of tangible music), and I do happen to own a pair of high waist-ed pants.

Just because I defy society, because I'm independent and I have a very liberal way of thinking, because I post my inner thoughts about how wretched the world has become on a blog; paring these thoughts with well-focused high quality pictures from Tumblr, should I be classified as a hipster?

No. I will not be classified in a group that in itself has become mainstream.

I'm sorry that I like The Black Keys, a group that only has words on their first album, naming the album and the band quite bluntly, and a group that claims to never make music videos because its "too mainstream" when they definitely have about 10 videos on the most mainstream video website (Youtube).

Hipsters anger me.

(More to come soon.)

the devil is in me, oh lord. please, save me. next time i'll try to refrain from personal thoughts or opinions.

Over the summer, after a long, strictly educational six week program, I had the joy, no, the privilege of staying with my grandmother and my grandfather for two long, enjoyable weeks.

Usually, most people refer to their grandmother and grandfather as their "grandparents," but purposefully, I decided to separate them, for they have two unique, and incredibly distinct characteristics that differ significantly.

Upon my arrival to their quaint 3 bedroom house, I was stuck with a perplexing reality. This was the first summer since I was 12 that I would spend with my grandparents alone, without any protection from my overly overprotective parents. Four long years can greatly change a person. And so, without any doubt on my part, my grandmother and grandfather were able to detect these sinful changes.

My grandmother is a very spiritual person to say the least. She quotes the Bible frequently and believes religion should be the basis of society, rather than politics, government, individual intellectual standpoints...etc. She tried to push religion on me when I was a child. I guess she didn't do such a good job, since I "question" faith and spiritually. I'm full of an "evil spirit", in her "holy" words.

My grandfather is quite the opposite. How these two ever got married and had two kids blows my mind. My grandfather is an angry man. He yells frequently, which may have something to do with the fact that he can't hear very well. He was in the Korean Conflict and he got shot, which may also have something to do with his anger issues. I love my grandfather dearly. He's a hilarious man, even with his mood swings and his need to go to sleep at 4 pm. He loves sweets, newspapers, old western movies, and soap operas (the not-so-crappy ones that come on CBS). However, he was also able to notice a change in me as well. I could tell in his sad, droopy, wrinkly eyes that he misses the innocent, completely subservient little girl I was. And he was appalled of my newly formed independence.

Now that I was able to "talk-back" and express my opinions was a complete shock to the ignorant minds of my aged grandmother and grandfather. They were so horrifically accustomed to my obedience, my subservience, my own ignorance to the concept of independence, that now, looking at me, a very opinionated teenage girl, they were puzzled. I don't think they necessarily knew how to respond to this new found glory. I could see the confusion in their old eyes when I successfully conducted my first "talk-back."

It's as if I could hear them thinking...

"I wonder if she's just having a hormonal moment..."
"Maybe her parents deem this type of behavior as 'acceptable'"
"Perhaps I'm dreaming, and my perfect grandchild did not say such an un-Godly thing."

What a foolish pair. Yes, I might have been having a slight issue with my hormones that day, but they were wrong. My parents did not deem "talking back" as an acceptable behavior and, no, they were not having a terrible nightmare. Yes, I talked back. I expressed my opinion. And now, I'm un-Godly.

My grandmother, a completely spiritual, devout woman, could only relate this action to the lack of God in my life. However, when the opinions kept leaping out of my mouth, into the atmosphere, and into her small, grandmotherly-like ears, she quickly assumed I was consumed by the devil.

The Devil? Oh yes, the devil. The most evil spirit in the world. I am now consumed with evilness simply because I expressed an opinion. Oh, what perfect sense.

So, now that the devil is in me, I must now profess my evilness to the world. MWAHAHA.

But, on a more serious note, how can someone accuse me of such madness? Because I simply expressed an opinion contrary to my grandmother's belief, I am now the host of such an evil being.

There is no theologian, nor biblical scholar that can justify that claim. Any attempt of justification will simply result in a laugh and a call of "blasphemy!" on my part.

According to my grandmother, I also carried two, different, distinct personalities. I had an evil side, and a loving side. But, without realization on my part, I was allowing the evilness to shine through the goodness that so dearly wants to be the one to outshine.

No offense to my grandmother's belief, but that is complete and utter crap. I'm sorry, maybe I am an atheist, maybe I am consumed by the devil, and maybe I do have multiple personalities syndrome. But in all honesty, can she really believe that I am that bad?

Unlike the rest of the typical cliches that society has placed on the adolescent generation, I do not do drugs, partake in any illegal actions, crash cars into trees while drunk, nor do I listen to screamo or cut myself. But no, it's the "voicing my opinion" that leads to such dismay.

My grandfather likes to look at this entire situation as simple disrespect. He finds me to be the type of person that will say whatever I want without giving a crap about what people may think about it. Which is very true.
This is why I love my grandfather so much. He doesn't try to explain things with God, or any other mystical being created by society, he narrows it down, to the core, and deems a good old-fashioned spanking a tolerable punishment.

Overall, my family is quite hilarious. They are so animated in their beliefs that I can hardly stand it. Luckily, I didn't turn out that way. Now, I can make fun of them and laugh at the stupidity that exudes from their ignorant minds.

So, finally, through a heavy load of bickering, I was able to win my case.

"I'm getting older, I don't need approval."

I think they took this negatively. But I don't give a damn.

I just know that I personally think I won my case. Too bad the devil's still got me in a choke-hold.

please, don't smother me with your belligerant baggering.

*I'm sorry, but this post is completely horrible. I wrote this out of anger. Please excuse grammatical errors and spelling mistakes.

Are people really that oblivious? Disrespectful? Unprofessional?

I'm completely appalled at this horrific truth that seems to tainting this completely absurd generation. People have lost morals, ideals, or just a general basis of respect for the opposite party simply because they are looking out for themselves.

I'm in awe.

At this point, I'm probably just venting, but I feel like this is a topic that needs to be expressed.

I consider myself a fairly dedicated student. To be told otherwise completely ruins my entire persona. And I have certainly been told otherwise, whether its a direct statement or an implied expression of this "lacking dedication."

I've been told by my mother, my father, and now, to my utmost surprise, my own peers that I'm lacking diligence when it comes to education.

First of all, I will not be TOLD what I am or what I am lacking. No one, whether it's my parents or my peers, will tell ME what I am or am not or what I can or cannot do. It is no one's position to tell me what is wrong with me.

I am the only person that can judge myself. I am the only one that holds that right. I control my own actions and my own state of being.

Second of all, who the hell to people think they are to tell me what I should be doing? To tell me what I'm doing wrong, and not even consider my situation?

Please don't smother me with crap simply because you feel that you were treated unfairly, unjustly, or inadequately. Don't embarrass me because you feel the need that justice needs to be served.

Lastly, don't pretend like nothing is wrong. Don't pretend that I'm the one at fault and that you're the only one that is right. NO.

(Post will be edited and more will be added at a later date)

i'm sorry, but i'm not looking for approval

Why do people feel the need to conform to society's intolerable vision?

They feel as if they really need some sort of "approval" from everyone. The need to fit in...the need to appeal to everyone's five "glorious" senses...

What happened to the longing for everyone to exhibit an individual character? His/her own personality, characteristics, traits? Has that philosophy, or more like a way of life, changed? Did I not get the memo?

I'm lost, confused, puzzled by this horrific truth that has become the basis of our society. People try to fit in and change their entire persona to gain a sense of acceptance just to be classified as the norm in this society.

This year in my English class, I had to write a paper on identity. We had to justify the claim that people can change their entire personality or character and lose sight of their real selves.

For some strange reason, it was one of the hardest things I HAD to write.

I could relate to this topic, which was a scary truth I had to accept. I lost sight of the real me, ever since I was in elementary school.

Elementary school was the worst period of time in my life. For some odd reason, people refused to see the real me. They saw a obnoxiously smart girl, who allegedly and indirectly claimed to be better than everyone else. They refused to see the girl who wanted to get to know everyone in a positive manner, who wanted to lead with a sense of confidence rather than arrogance, and the girl who acted out in hopes to gain stronger friendships.

I felt socially awkward, helpless in all situations, bullied, lonely, and I felt that I had no one to call my real, true friend.

By the time middle school came around, I formulated a "clever" plan. I decided to change my entire persona in hopes to appeal to everyone. I disregarded my aptitude to learn, lost all sense of the word "confidence," and I focused all my time finding out what other people interests were so I could simply become "friends."

I had a lot of friends, but my grades began to suffer, and without noticing, I was losing sight of the real me. I changed the type of music I listened to, the types of clothes I bought, and my entire mindset. Maybe I just had an extreme case of an adjustment disorder, according to my mother, but I honestly think that I was so concerned with pleasing everyone and pleasing myself by not being a "loner" that I lost sight of my true identity.

But the question was if I still had a hint of my old personality left in me. I think I did. But I had to do an extreme search. Was I still confident? Was I still smart? Was I still a little...well, odd?

I was. But the real me was hidden in a locked drawer somewhere in my mind. I had to find it. And once I did, I would let out my true self when high school hit.

For some odd reason, changing my entire persona made it hard for me to change myself back into my original state. I forgot about the "real me" and instead, focused on a new me that was only a combination of everyone else's unique characteristics. It left me at a standstill.

Entering high school, I attempted to let go of all the things that I deemed "anti-me" and got rid of all the things that easily influenced me. It was a long process...but I think now, I'm pretty much how I was in elementary school.

Then why was it so hard for me to write that paper? Maybe it was because I had too much experience with the topic that I didn't want to accidentally share unnecessary information. Maybe it was because I was in some form of denial. Maybe it was because I lacked a certain capability to incorporate my own thoughts and personal experiences into a work that was supposed to be completely hypothetical.

This brings me back to my original point...why must we feel the need to conform?

It's simple. We don't want to be the odd one out. We don't want to be alone all the time, with no friends to share similar interests with. We don't want to be socially awkward, or impermissible when it comes to any form of conversation. We want to feel wanted, loved, and included in anything and everything we do.

Is there anyway this can happen without changing one's entire identity?

Yes. Stop looking for approval. Stop trying to impress or be impressed by other people. When someone exhibits his/her real traits and characteristics, that person should become more likable, or interesting to say the least, just because he/she is different, unique and has their own personal identity.

Being likable shouldn't be based on conformity....it should be based on uniqueness...like every x having a unique y...

It's as simple as Pre-calculus.

is it a conspiracy? political infraction? or am i just a non-believer?

Disclaimer:  I am not an atheist.

I don't know if it's just my age or my fascination in criticizing certain dysfunctional things about this society, but I'm questioning my belief in a "higher power" if you catch my drift.

I consider myself a somewhat spiritual person, but for the past two years, I've really been questioning my faith.

I was never really brought up in a religious environment. My parents both grew up under a strict religious rule. My mom separated from her church when she reached her twenties because she felt that the rules for successfully fulfilling the true religion were too demanding and strict. The point of God was being covered and masked by the rule rather than truly showing faith.

I guess my dad still follows his religion. He's somewhat religious. But he doesn't try to incorporate that same spirituality to me.

Two years ago, I started my high school career at a Catholic high school, where it is mandatory to take religion classes. I was beyond scared. I assumed everyone was already knowledgeable about the Bible and the history of the Catholic Church. To my utmost surprise, many students weren't Catholic, and didn't attend church, just like me.

Throughout my freshman year, I was doing pretty well in my religion class. But with these mediocre grades, questions began to grow in my mind about God. I began to notice some contradictions in the Bible with what my teacher had said during her many lectures.

I wanted to ask questions. I wanted to discuss topics that had relation to the validity of God or the validity of the Bible, better yet, the validity of the Catholic Church.

Every time I asked such question, I was shunned, disregarded, and looked negatively upon by my teacher and even my peers.

Was it wrong to question the validity of God? Was it wrong to wonder about God in general? Is society meant to go along with the status quo rather than ask questions?

I began to despise religion class. My grades began to suffer as well because of this.

I felt as if I was being treated differently just because I refused to just go along with the teachings. With this segregation, my faith began to suffer as well.

Before entering high school, I prayed, usually for personal reasons, but I tried to incorporate other people into my prayers as well. I don't know what happened. Maybe it was my terrible experience with my religion class. Maybe it was my lack of religion as a child was finally setting in.

But for some odd reason, I stopped praying. I stopped being interested in God. I stopped saying "Thank God" or "Bless you" or "Praise the Lord." 

Was my spirituality being deleted? Was I losing my faith?

My grandma is a very religious person. Every time she visits, it's like I'm at a church or something. She's constantly praying, preaching, and reading the Bible. Usually it didn't bother me. But again, I started hating it. It got on my nerves.

And the sad part, my lack of devoutness wasn't my only issue with religion. It became the whole idea of religiosity. I hated the Bible simply because it was just a way for businesses to make money. I loathed extravagant churches. I despised religious books...like self-help books or "How to get closer to God" books.

I thought religion was a conspiracy...or some political scam...a way to make money, a way to advertise something that didn't really apply to everyone, a way for everyone to believe the same thing. It bothered me.

I don't know if my mind has really changed since then. I've become more open to the idea of religion and God and all that stuff, but I still don't pray or consider myself spiritual. I do believe in a higher being, an upper power that controls life on earth...but the whole of idea of God really throws me off-guard.

It's a sad truth that I might grow out of eventually. But right now, I'm confused beyond measure.

Maybe I'm just a non-believer...

Or maybe I'm just a highly confused teen.

admire the one thing we aliens tend to take for granted.

Got space?

I feel like I've covered a similar topic before on this "not-so-thriving" blog of mine.

Well...this is more of an issue pertaining the need for privacy. Everyone needs privacy, whether it be a large amount of privacy or an enormously TINY amount. (Yeah, I confused you with that statement.)

I think I'm more of the person who needs a huge amount of this magnificent thing called "privacy."

So, it bothers me immensely when I have to encounter the same badgering into my personal life on a daily basis by people who have absolutely no sense of the word "privacy."

It's a beautiful word.

P-R-I-V-A-C-Y

Oh. Just wonderful.

If you're the type of person that prefers to be the instigator of such negative acts, I pray that you will find some sense in, what seems to be, a horrifically small brain that God unfortunately blessed you with.

I pray that one day you will realize that people prefer to keep to themselves.

Yes, they may say that they want help. But, really, they don't. They may say that they need "advice," but, in all honesty, they are just lying.

Why do they lie, you might ask.

They want you to feel included and important. They want you to feel a sense of pride and dignity knowing that someone claims to be in dire need of your specific help. They want to see you convey at least a minimum amount of happiness.

Why do they care about your happiness? I honestly do not know.

I should know, though. When I'm feeling sad, bipolar, or any other exaggerated emotion adolescents seem to face because of uncontrollable hormones, people feel the need to involve themselves in my misery.

They ask questions like, "What's wrong?" "Are you okay?" "Are you going to cry?"

I don't want to tell you what's wrong. No, I am not okay. Yes, I'm going to cry now simply because you asked me if I'm going to cry.

While I'm sharing my deepest and highly emotional feelings, while I'm being comforted in the arms of some person that claims to be helpful, and while I'm shedding that dreadful tear, I contemplate whether I could have answered those three simple, yet invasive questions a tad bit differently.

Instead of answering, I could have said "Leave me alone." "Shut up." Or, I could have simply not responded. But no, I chose to take the hard way out, leaving me with explaining my "depression," trying to please everyone elses desire to "help" when I can barely help myself, and feeling more terrible than I did in the first place.

I feel as if people need some sort of self recognition. They help others so they can feel better about themselves. It's selfish. I mean if the point is to help others, why not do so with the kindness of your heart, not for self accomplishment.

I always emphasize the ignorance of people in this awful society, but this isn't ignorance, this is selfishness, and it probably should be classified as abuse.

Abuse? Yes, abuse.

They are abusing their rights. They are abusing the emotional turmoil certain people have to live with.

This abuse could be prevented if we just all gave ourselves the power to embrace the one thing that we aliens tend to take for granted.

PRIVACY.

Again, what a beautiful word.

Embrace it. Live it. Admire it.

Imagine, what would society be with it?