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.)
Monday, October 24, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, July 22, 2011
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)
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)
Thursday, July 14, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, July 11, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
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?
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?
Sunday, July 3, 2011
we're prettier and younger but not any better off.
I tend to see the world differently now that I am older. I remember when I was younger, I really never payed any attention to anything. Now, it's as if I'm focusing too much on the little things. It's quite invigorating and annoying at the same time.
I wonder why people do the things they do, I wonder why certain businesses and buildings are called a certain name, and I wonder about the human society, and all its malfunctions. This is sorta why I started this blog. I hoped to share my thoughts about how "dysfunctional" this society really is.
However, in this post, I want to share my thoughts on the younger side of my precarious generation. Believe it or not, my generation is almost to the point where we are becoming the leaders of this society. Yes, we may still be in our teenage years, but soon we'll be graduating college, going on to graduate school, and starting a career.
This is scary. Especially to me. When I was younger, I was so oblivious. I may have thought I knew everything I could about the world, but I certainly didn't. And that's not necessarily my fault. I just hadn't experienced anything yet.
A younger me wanted to be a planetary scientist or a meteorologist or an astronomer. I was set on that for the longest time. I did summer camps relating to astronomy and the planets, and I loved it. My mother saw that I loved it, and she was right. This was something I knew I wanted to do.
I don't know what happened between elementary school and high school, but my mind changed completely. I went from science to English to history to teacher. I was so confused during my freshman year. People would ask me what I wanted to do, and I couldn't give them an answer.
When I was younger, people were so impressed that I already had my life plan in check. I told them I wanted to work for NASA and go to college at MIT.
Then reality hit. There was probably no way I would get into MIT and a very slim chance that I would work at NASA.
During my sophomore year, English and writing became my new love. I loved writing. It was my way to escape from my confusion. And I was good at it.
English teacher, English professor, author, book editor...
I still wasn't sure.
And my parents weren't necessarily in on my new love. They said there was no money in English. They said I wouldn't be financially happy.
Financially happy? So, money makes society happy? And the sad part is, money is what makes the world go round.
So where does that leave me? Being unhappy with my career choice, but being financially happy? Or, being happy with my job, but being stuck in the dumps?
It's a hard choice. I have less than 2 years to decide.
I wish I was young again. When I just lived and really didn't have to care or worry about anything.
But really, wishing to stay young doesn't really solve anything. I mean, old age is to come eventually.
So, at this point, I won't stress. I'll just wait to see what comes to me.
And maybe then, I'll be a little better off.
I wonder why people do the things they do, I wonder why certain businesses and buildings are called a certain name, and I wonder about the human society, and all its malfunctions. This is sorta why I started this blog. I hoped to share my thoughts about how "dysfunctional" this society really is.
However, in this post, I want to share my thoughts on the younger side of my precarious generation. Believe it or not, my generation is almost to the point where we are becoming the leaders of this society. Yes, we may still be in our teenage years, but soon we'll be graduating college, going on to graduate school, and starting a career.
This is scary. Especially to me. When I was younger, I was so oblivious. I may have thought I knew everything I could about the world, but I certainly didn't. And that's not necessarily my fault. I just hadn't experienced anything yet.
A younger me wanted to be a planetary scientist or a meteorologist or an astronomer. I was set on that for the longest time. I did summer camps relating to astronomy and the planets, and I loved it. My mother saw that I loved it, and she was right. This was something I knew I wanted to do.
I don't know what happened between elementary school and high school, but my mind changed completely. I went from science to English to history to teacher. I was so confused during my freshman year. People would ask me what I wanted to do, and I couldn't give them an answer.
When I was younger, people were so impressed that I already had my life plan in check. I told them I wanted to work for NASA and go to college at MIT.
Then reality hit. There was probably no way I would get into MIT and a very slim chance that I would work at NASA.
During my sophomore year, English and writing became my new love. I loved writing. It was my way to escape from my confusion. And I was good at it.
English teacher, English professor, author, book editor...
I still wasn't sure.
And my parents weren't necessarily in on my new love. They said there was no money in English. They said I wouldn't be financially happy.
Financially happy? So, money makes society happy? And the sad part is, money is what makes the world go round.
So where does that leave me? Being unhappy with my career choice, but being financially happy? Or, being happy with my job, but being stuck in the dumps?
It's a hard choice. I have less than 2 years to decide.
I wish I was young again. When I just lived and really didn't have to care or worry about anything.
But really, wishing to stay young doesn't really solve anything. I mean, old age is to come eventually.
So, at this point, I won't stress. I'll just wait to see what comes to me.
And maybe then, I'll be a little better off.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
an attempt at happiness? no...we're not that intelligent.
I find the female mind to be completely absurd in all facets. And I say this strictly because I am a female myself. My heart and soul seems to be completely devoted to the wrong thing...well more like the wrong group of people.
I told myself that I would never write anything that even has the slightest relation to love or a strong "like" on my blog...but I can't help it. I'm that pathetic.
Females seem to always be attracted to the "wrong guy." You know, the guy that has all the friends, the guy that sweet talks you for a good week or two and then suddenly your going out, that guy that breaks your helpless adolescent heart into tiny, microscopic pieces? That guy. And its the same guy you always fall for. And quite frankly, it sucks.
It's sorta funny too. Because for some odd reason, we think that being bombarded with crap from our so-called lover is what leads to our personal happiness.
It's a fake sense of the word "happy." We think we're happy because we have the attractive guy, the guy that every girl wants. We feel proud, popular, and most of all, empowered.
This "empowerment" is also a fake feeling. We feel strong and full of life. But don't become easily persuaded, it's only a front. We're not happy. We're miserable.
Why?
Well, it's a commonality in these types of relationships that the guy is very flirtatious, cheats excessively, and treats the girl terribly. The girl has unfortunately convinced herself that he indeed loves her and is just exhibiting stubbornness.
Stubbornness? Temporary? Nope. Permanent.
A permanent stubbornness. Can we really handle that? Apparently, we can, because we stick with the guy with high hopes that he might, possibly change.
Suddenly, a streak of niceness! The guy becomes nice, respectful, thoughtful. Maybe the girl was right. Maybe he was just going through a phase...
Then, the absurd occurs.
He wants the worse from you. And we all know what this thing is.
What is a girl to do? He claims that if you love him, you will. But do you love him?
No, you don't. Love is a word that tends to be tossed around lightly in this generation. But the word "love" is a strong word. To make that claim is basically signing your personal sentence.
Let's analyze this situation...he's treated you like crap, flirted and cheated with other girls, and went through a "stubborn" phase.
Now...do you love him?
No, I didn't think so.
Girls need to be more thoughtful and less nonsensical. They need to learn how to not let a fake sense of love mask their common sense.
I've had many experiences in which I've been blinded by a strong like. I thought it was the best feeling in the world, but I gained sense, and got out of any situation that would possibly jeopardize my future.
I just hope that girls like me will realize that their happiness is tainted by a false sense of the word "love" and by some hormonal guy that has absolutely no life.
And please, let's gain some intelligence here.
I told myself that I would never write anything that even has the slightest relation to love or a strong "like" on my blog...but I can't help it. I'm that pathetic.
Females seem to always be attracted to the "wrong guy." You know, the guy that has all the friends, the guy that sweet talks you for a good week or two and then suddenly your going out, that guy that breaks your helpless adolescent heart into tiny, microscopic pieces? That guy. And its the same guy you always fall for. And quite frankly, it sucks.
It's sorta funny too. Because for some odd reason, we think that being bombarded with crap from our so-called lover is what leads to our personal happiness.
It's a fake sense of the word "happy." We think we're happy because we have the attractive guy, the guy that every girl wants. We feel proud, popular, and most of all, empowered.
This "empowerment" is also a fake feeling. We feel strong and full of life. But don't become easily persuaded, it's only a front. We're not happy. We're miserable.
Why?
Well, it's a commonality in these types of relationships that the guy is very flirtatious, cheats excessively, and treats the girl terribly. The girl has unfortunately convinced herself that he indeed loves her and is just exhibiting stubbornness.
Stubbornness? Temporary? Nope. Permanent.
A permanent stubbornness. Can we really handle that? Apparently, we can, because we stick with the guy with high hopes that he might, possibly change.
Suddenly, a streak of niceness! The guy becomes nice, respectful, thoughtful. Maybe the girl was right. Maybe he was just going through a phase...
Then, the absurd occurs.
He wants the worse from you. And we all know what this thing is.
What is a girl to do? He claims that if you love him, you will. But do you love him?
No, you don't. Love is a word that tends to be tossed around lightly in this generation. But the word "love" is a strong word. To make that claim is basically signing your personal sentence.
Let's analyze this situation...he's treated you like crap, flirted and cheated with other girls, and went through a "stubborn" phase.
Now...do you love him?
No, I didn't think so.
Girls need to be more thoughtful and less nonsensical. They need to learn how to not let a fake sense of love mask their common sense.
I've had many experiences in which I've been blinded by a strong like. I thought it was the best feeling in the world, but I gained sense, and got out of any situation that would possibly jeopardize my future.
I just hope that girls like me will realize that their happiness is tainted by a false sense of the word "love" and by some hormonal guy that has absolutely no life.
And please, let's gain some intelligence here.
i refuse to tolerate your stupidity.
I truly despise stupid people. Well, not necessarily stupid people, just people who act stupid, simply because they lack a certain capability to gain attention from others in a way that doesn't require them to force themselves upon stupid behavior.
This stupidity should probably be renamed into a word that is a tad bit more sophisticated. How about...ignorance? Yes, ignorance. A hideous word. A perfect word for describing the people who live with this "ignorant" mentality. I tend to talk about all the things I hate on this not so thriving blog of mine, and I continue on rampage of what's wrong with this horrific life...so, with that, I give you, another heartfelt rampage on ignorance.
For six weeks out of my super long summer, I will be attending a summer program that is designed to streghnthen high schoolers skills in math and the sciences. I originally wasn't to fond of the idea because one, it six freakin' weeks long, and two, science and math aren't really my most favorite subjects. I prefer to write...duh.
Even though I argued and pleaded with my mom to let me do something that I would actually enjoy this summer, instead of ruining my life, she insisted that I do the program with high hopes of becoming even more profficient in math and science.
I, without an option, "happily" attended the program.
This is my second week.
And the ignorance of some people is certainly astounding.
I don't know what it is with adolescents, but for some odd reason, they like to act completely stupid at the wrong times, without considering the feelings and thoughts of others.
I mean, even by the end of the first week, ignorance led certain members of the program to post insults about people on Twitter.
What was the motive? Certainly, I have no idea. But I'm forced to accept their ignorance, tolerate it, and laugh along with it, just so they can achieve some sort of high satisfaction.
Forget this "forced action." I refuse to tolerate it or standby it in anyway. It's dumb and profound, and I truly hope that they learn to get over themselves.
It's as if their unaware of their stupidity. To me, that's the worst part. To be unaware of your most OBVIOUS ignorance is probably worse than being ignorant in the first place. I pray that they find sense in their liquified brains and they learn to use their intelligence to their advantage rather than their ignorance just for social satisfaction.
Society doesn't help it either. As I said before, we tolerate it, just in hope to be accepted by the vast majority.
That's bull crap. To even tolerate something that can be even the mildest form of insult is not okay.
We need to learn to stand up for ourselves and be assertive. Pacifists don't always make it in the world.
So, all you ignorant people, I hope you understand the jist of what I'm trying to communicate. Please take my words of advice, and learn from the idiotic society we face today.
This stupidity should probably be renamed into a word that is a tad bit more sophisticated. How about...ignorance? Yes, ignorance. A hideous word. A perfect word for describing the people who live with this "ignorant" mentality. I tend to talk about all the things I hate on this not so thriving blog of mine, and I continue on rampage of what's wrong with this horrific life...so, with that, I give you, another heartfelt rampage on ignorance.
For six weeks out of my super long summer, I will be attending a summer program that is designed to streghnthen high schoolers skills in math and the sciences. I originally wasn't to fond of the idea because one, it six freakin' weeks long, and two, science and math aren't really my most favorite subjects. I prefer to write...duh.
Even though I argued and pleaded with my mom to let me do something that I would actually enjoy this summer, instead of ruining my life, she insisted that I do the program with high hopes of becoming even more profficient in math and science.
I, without an option, "happily" attended the program.
This is my second week.
And the ignorance of some people is certainly astounding.
I don't know what it is with adolescents, but for some odd reason, they like to act completely stupid at the wrong times, without considering the feelings and thoughts of others.
I mean, even by the end of the first week, ignorance led certain members of the program to post insults about people on Twitter.
What was the motive? Certainly, I have no idea. But I'm forced to accept their ignorance, tolerate it, and laugh along with it, just so they can achieve some sort of high satisfaction.
Forget this "forced action." I refuse to tolerate it or standby it in anyway. It's dumb and profound, and I truly hope that they learn to get over themselves.
It's as if their unaware of their stupidity. To me, that's the worst part. To be unaware of your most OBVIOUS ignorance is probably worse than being ignorant in the first place. I pray that they find sense in their liquified brains and they learn to use their intelligence to their advantage rather than their ignorance just for social satisfaction.
Society doesn't help it either. As I said before, we tolerate it, just in hope to be accepted by the vast majority.
That's bull crap. To even tolerate something that can be even the mildest form of insult is not okay.
We need to learn to stand up for ourselves and be assertive. Pacifists don't always make it in the world.
So, all you ignorant people, I hope you understand the jist of what I'm trying to communicate. Please take my words of advice, and learn from the idiotic society we face today.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
paranoia in b-flat major.
Paranoia is a disease.
It's a puss infused bacterial infection. It's in desperate need of some severe antibiotics.
It's disgusting. Annoying. Grotesque. Despicable. But not as despicable as "Despicable Me." You know? The kids movie with Steve Carell? That was a horrendous movie. I mean, first of all, what little kid knows what "despicable" means? Are we trying to teach our young ones to be like super geniuses?
Anyway, back on topic...paranoia. A terrible thing. And I have to live with it everyday.
I'm an incredibly paranoid person.
Paranoia is defined as a "baseless or excessive suspicion of the motives of others." Yes. I have suspicions. I suspect the motives of others. I suspect the motives of others who mean a lot to me.
And yes, I am excessively suspicious of those "others."
I feel like I'm not the only one who has to face this intolerable facet to life. Everyone has some form of paranoia. Even if its the slightest form of paranoia possible, it's still there.
How are we to live with this painful disease? Honestly, I have no idea.
I try to rid myself of any form of jealousy, of any form of personal torture I put upon myself simply because I am jealous, and, of course, the constant worry that someone you care about is going to destroy your trust immensely.
I guess having trust issues is probably the biggest reason from anyone to even exhibit the slightest amount of paranoia. And its sad that paranoia is probably most derived from relationships.
I can relate to this myself.
I told myself that I would never get in a relationship simply because I was always constantly hurt. Not even in like the pathetic...like "OMG, he said he didn't like me anymore....boohoohooo." Ugh. Shut up.
I was hurt in the "I'm going to take advantage of you" way.
So, of course, being in any type of relationship is going to take a giant toll on my emotional and mental state. With this fact, paranoia is bound to occur...leaving me to be highly insecure and unnecessarily emotional.
Paranoia is not something that can be completely dissolved. We have to live with it and its not something that can necessarily escape from the human mind. I honestly do not have a solution for this one my dear friends. All I can say is that we have to live with it and desperately try to not let it get the best of us. It will be hard to do.
But its better than nothing.
It's a puss infused bacterial infection. It's in desperate need of some severe antibiotics.
It's disgusting. Annoying. Grotesque. Despicable. But not as despicable as "Despicable Me." You know? The kids movie with Steve Carell? That was a horrendous movie. I mean, first of all, what little kid knows what "despicable" means? Are we trying to teach our young ones to be like super geniuses?
Anyway, back on topic...paranoia. A terrible thing. And I have to live with it everyday.
I'm an incredibly paranoid person.
Paranoia is defined as a "baseless or excessive suspicion of the motives of others." Yes. I have suspicions. I suspect the motives of others. I suspect the motives of others who mean a lot to me.
And yes, I am excessively suspicious of those "others."
I feel like I'm not the only one who has to face this intolerable facet to life. Everyone has some form of paranoia. Even if its the slightest form of paranoia possible, it's still there.
How are we to live with this painful disease? Honestly, I have no idea.
I try to rid myself of any form of jealousy, of any form of personal torture I put upon myself simply because I am jealous, and, of course, the constant worry that someone you care about is going to destroy your trust immensely.
I guess having trust issues is probably the biggest reason from anyone to even exhibit the slightest amount of paranoia. And its sad that paranoia is probably most derived from relationships.
I can relate to this myself.
I told myself that I would never get in a relationship simply because I was always constantly hurt. Not even in like the pathetic...like "OMG, he said he didn't like me anymore....boohoohooo." Ugh. Shut up.
I was hurt in the "I'm going to take advantage of you" way.
So, of course, being in any type of relationship is going to take a giant toll on my emotional and mental state. With this fact, paranoia is bound to occur...leaving me to be highly insecure and unnecessarily emotional.
Paranoia is not something that can be completely dissolved. We have to live with it and its not something that can necessarily escape from the human mind. I honestly do not have a solution for this one my dear friends. All I can say is that we have to live with it and desperately try to not let it get the best of us. It will be hard to do.
But its better than nothing.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
caricature of intimacy.
Why must adolescents be so....hormonal?
Is that a commonality? Or am I just one of those odd ones who seem to lack a sense of "self-control," if you catch my drift?
I have been told that its common to be excessively moody at times, to feel a suffrage from sleep deprivation, and to engage in actions that, well, how should I put it, result in some sort of "satisfaction."
These commonalities are horrendous little facts that seem to taunt the wonderful generation of precarious adolescents.
I am a dynamic figure. Well, more like a typical teen. And teens can be classified as dynamic, right?
I feel as if my generation will be the one to fall into this downward spiral of unsuccessful-ness and nothing-ness. We have been so consumed by the media (television, social networking, cell phones, iPods, etc.) that I honestly don't think we can successfully survive without it's guide. We have lost all sense of morality. We are focused on the things of life that should be characterized with a lesser value of importance.
For example, the art of sex has been turned, twisted, and basically destroyed by the media.
Where is the intimacy? Where is beauty in it? And most importantly, what happened to waiting until marriage?
The media gratifies sex, focusing on the aspect of pleasure rather than the emotional connection. I mean, I honestly don't see how getting "intimate" with a guy in the backseat of a 1990 Toyota is all that special.
We, as horny and extremely hormonal teens, see this gratification and think that it's okay. We're swayed into thinking sex is no big deal. And by this, we end up severely ruining our lives.
MTV seems to like the whole teen pregnancy thing though. 16 and Pregnant and Teen Mom are two major shows on MTV. I despise them not only because they're pointless and rot the brain, they show how teen girls have ruined their lives by having sex. It's great that audience members can see the struggles in being a teen mother, but really, the show isn't stopping teen girls from having sex. In some ways, it supports it. These girls are getting publicity just for being pregnant at a young age. They're becoming famous. And for what? Being pregnant.
It's a terrible thing. Teens already have so much crap to go through...why not put them through more crap! Let's play with their hormones and emotions! Let's screw up their morals! Yay!
I feel sincerely sorry for myself. I mean, even I, sometimes, lose morality. But I'm smarter than that. I just hope the rest of the world can rise above the tortures of the media.
So, to all you teens out there, keep your hormones in check, keep your mood in order, and think about your life and your future before you decide to do anything irrational. Trust me, a false sense of intimacy isn't worth it.
Is that a commonality? Or am I just one of those odd ones who seem to lack a sense of "self-control," if you catch my drift?
I have been told that its common to be excessively moody at times, to feel a suffrage from sleep deprivation, and to engage in actions that, well, how should I put it, result in some sort of "satisfaction."
These commonalities are horrendous little facts that seem to taunt the wonderful generation of precarious adolescents.
I am a dynamic figure. Well, more like a typical teen. And teens can be classified as dynamic, right?
I feel as if my generation will be the one to fall into this downward spiral of unsuccessful-ness and nothing-ness. We have been so consumed by the media (television, social networking, cell phones, iPods, etc.) that I honestly don't think we can successfully survive without it's guide. We have lost all sense of morality. We are focused on the things of life that should be characterized with a lesser value of importance.
For example, the art of sex has been turned, twisted, and basically destroyed by the media.
Where is the intimacy? Where is beauty in it? And most importantly, what happened to waiting until marriage?
The media gratifies sex, focusing on the aspect of pleasure rather than the emotional connection. I mean, I honestly don't see how getting "intimate" with a guy in the backseat of a 1990 Toyota is all that special.
We, as horny and extremely hormonal teens, see this gratification and think that it's okay. We're swayed into thinking sex is no big deal. And by this, we end up severely ruining our lives.
MTV seems to like the whole teen pregnancy thing though. 16 and Pregnant and Teen Mom are two major shows on MTV. I despise them not only because they're pointless and rot the brain, they show how teen girls have ruined their lives by having sex. It's great that audience members can see the struggles in being a teen mother, but really, the show isn't stopping teen girls from having sex. In some ways, it supports it. These girls are getting publicity just for being pregnant at a young age. They're becoming famous. And for what? Being pregnant.
It's a terrible thing. Teens already have so much crap to go through...why not put them through more crap! Let's play with their hormones and emotions! Let's screw up their morals! Yay!
I feel sincerely sorry for myself. I mean, even I, sometimes, lose morality. But I'm smarter than that. I just hope the rest of the world can rise above the tortures of the media.
So, to all you teens out there, keep your hormones in check, keep your mood in order, and think about your life and your future before you decide to do anything irrational. Trust me, a false sense of intimacy isn't worth it.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
no...i would not like to tweet.
Twitter.
A horrific social networking site that, I personally, refuse to see the point of.
It is popular among teens, adults who have absolutely nothing to do with their pointless lives, and celebrities...and you already know how I feel about celebrities.
The site is stupid, idiotic, and pointless beyond measure.
And yet, for some odd reason, I acquire a Twitter account.
I was told by my friends that I needed to get "hip." (A term used to describe ones knowledge toward a current fad)
So, stupid me, decided to get a Twitter. I got on, followed a few of my friends and decided to compose my first "tweet."
It was a frightful endeavor.
My hands were trembling as a tried to type a glorious sentence or phrase into that little white space that only allowed 140 characters. Drips of sweat began to trickle down the sides of my face. My legs were becoming numb (probably due to the fact that I had been sitting in the same position on my chair for a good 2 hours). My eyes began to burn with frustration, for I was sick of staring at that blank space on my computer screen.
My mind was at a stand still.
I couldn't think of anything.
What was I to say? "I had a crappy day at school today." "I hate butterflies." "This is my first tweet and I don't know what to say."
Stupid ideas. Nobody would be interested.
I refreshed the page, and surprisingly, I already had 6 followers.
...I didn't even "tweet" anything yet.
I really wanted to compose a tweet now. It was a new endeavor I had to face. A new journey I had to complete. It was my ultimate goal to successfully compose a cohesive tweet.
So, I decided to look on my friends' pages for a guide on what to say.
What I saw confused me to the highest extent.
They were documenting their every thought. Their every move. Every second...a new tweet. People had thousands of tweets. Thousands. And I couldn't even think of one.
Then, thousands of questions entered my mind. "How are they able to constantly write about what's going on in their heads?" "Are they bored or something?" "Is something wrong with me?" "Why can't I just say what's on my mind?"
So I attempted to compose this dreadful tweet again. I redirected to my profile, clicked the button to compose the tweet, and tried to type one more time.
Nothing. I couldn't think of anything. Maybe my mind was too consumed with the fact that I couldn't think of anything to tweet.
But then, I started to gain some sense.
Why do people believe it's necessary to document their every thought? I'm sorry, but I honestly don't think the statement "Omg, I love chicken" is ever going to help me in life.
People don't care that I had a crappy day at school, that I hate butterflies, or that I can't think of anything to tweet.
If they do, well, I question their sanity.
Social networking and I are in a strict Love-Hate relationship. I find it useful and helpful when trying to connect with people that I don't necessarily see everyday. But seriously, there is no need share one's every thought or action. Nobody cares that you just ate a bologna sandwich. Well, I don't.
Can we use social networking properly? To connect with people? To network? Not post what we're thinking every 2 seconds.
Well, to finish off my story, I got off of Twitter that night, and have only been on it once since then. I have a total of 2 tweets and almost 30 followers (not much compared to my friends).
I haven't tweeted in about a month.
I plan on keeping my Twitter account. Refusing to tweet.
A horrific social networking site that, I personally, refuse to see the point of.
It is popular among teens, adults who have absolutely nothing to do with their pointless lives, and celebrities...and you already know how I feel about celebrities.
The site is stupid, idiotic, and pointless beyond measure.
And yet, for some odd reason, I acquire a Twitter account.
I was told by my friends that I needed to get "hip." (A term used to describe ones knowledge toward a current fad)
So, stupid me, decided to get a Twitter. I got on, followed a few of my friends and decided to compose my first "tweet."
It was a frightful endeavor.
My hands were trembling as a tried to type a glorious sentence or phrase into that little white space that only allowed 140 characters. Drips of sweat began to trickle down the sides of my face. My legs were becoming numb (probably due to the fact that I had been sitting in the same position on my chair for a good 2 hours). My eyes began to burn with frustration, for I was sick of staring at that blank space on my computer screen.
My mind was at a stand still.
I couldn't think of anything.
What was I to say? "I had a crappy day at school today." "I hate butterflies." "This is my first tweet and I don't know what to say."
Stupid ideas. Nobody would be interested.
I refreshed the page, and surprisingly, I already had 6 followers.
...I didn't even "tweet" anything yet.
I really wanted to compose a tweet now. It was a new endeavor I had to face. A new journey I had to complete. It was my ultimate goal to successfully compose a cohesive tweet.
So, I decided to look on my friends' pages for a guide on what to say.
What I saw confused me to the highest extent.
They were documenting their every thought. Their every move. Every second...a new tweet. People had thousands of tweets. Thousands. And I couldn't even think of one.
Then, thousands of questions entered my mind. "How are they able to constantly write about what's going on in their heads?" "Are they bored or something?" "Is something wrong with me?" "Why can't I just say what's on my mind?"
So I attempted to compose this dreadful tweet again. I redirected to my profile, clicked the button to compose the tweet, and tried to type one more time.
Nothing. I couldn't think of anything. Maybe my mind was too consumed with the fact that I couldn't think of anything to tweet.
But then, I started to gain some sense.
Why do people believe it's necessary to document their every thought? I'm sorry, but I honestly don't think the statement "Omg, I love chicken" is ever going to help me in life.
People don't care that I had a crappy day at school, that I hate butterflies, or that I can't think of anything to tweet.
If they do, well, I question their sanity.
Social networking and I are in a strict Love-Hate relationship. I find it useful and helpful when trying to connect with people that I don't necessarily see everyday. But seriously, there is no need share one's every thought or action. Nobody cares that you just ate a bologna sandwich. Well, I don't.
Can we use social networking properly? To connect with people? To network? Not post what we're thinking every 2 seconds.
Well, to finish off my story, I got off of Twitter that night, and have only been on it once since then. I have a total of 2 tweets and almost 30 followers (not much compared to my friends).
I haven't tweeted in about a month.
I plan on keeping my Twitter account. Refusing to tweet.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
the fascination in these wretched people is truly upsetting.
You know these people. These are the people that are everywhere. The people you get excited to see. The people who have TV shows strictly devoted to them. The people that you stay up to watch.
I hate these wretched people.
Celebrities. I don't care about them. Nobody cares about them. Oh...but wait. We so care. We so do.
Why? I don't know. They are people just like you and me, but for some odd reason we take complete interest in their lives. When they screw up, we're there. When they get acknowledged for some crappy movie, we're there. When they're going to court for the 50th time, we're there.
Is it because we find their failure's amusing? Is it because we find their so-called "great successes" invigorating? Is it because we're so stressed with our helpless lives, we find an utmost comfort in other people?
And the worst part is that we feel the need to share our knowledge or "opinions" about these celebrities with the entire world.
"Omg, did you here that [insert celebrity name here] had to go to rehab for a drug overdose! Omg, I'm so cool for knowing that."
It's even worse when people believe that they will, in fact, meet celebrities. Especially the insanely famous ones. The only celebrities anyone will probably meet are the ones that were in one horrific movie that barely earned 2 stars.
And even when they meet these "not-successful" celebrities, they still feel the need to post pictures of the autograph on Facebook or Twitter.
"Omg, look at the autograph of [insert celebrity name here]! I'm so cool for having this."
The typical "I love you, you're the best" or "It was great meeting you" or "You're the best fan ever" or any other typical cliche phrase that celebrities like to put on a shaggy Home Depot receipt will be the highlight of these people's lives.
But I can't hate these people too much.
I mean, if I saw Joseph Gordon Levitt on the side of the street, I would pretty much die.
Meeting them might be cool, but devoting your whole life to people you'll probably never see is quite idiotic. Especially to the ones who are famous for doing nothing like the Kardashians or Paris Hilton.
Let's just leave celebrities alone. They're really not that fascinating.
I hate these wretched people.
Celebrities. I don't care about them. Nobody cares about them. Oh...but wait. We so care. We so do.
Why? I don't know. They are people just like you and me, but for some odd reason we take complete interest in their lives. When they screw up, we're there. When they get acknowledged for some crappy movie, we're there. When they're going to court for the 50th time, we're there.
Is it because we find their failure's amusing? Is it because we find their so-called "great successes" invigorating? Is it because we're so stressed with our helpless lives, we find an utmost comfort in other people?
And the worst part is that we feel the need to share our knowledge or "opinions" about these celebrities with the entire world.
"Omg, did you here that [insert celebrity name here] had to go to rehab for a drug overdose! Omg, I'm so cool for knowing that."
It's even worse when people believe that they will, in fact, meet celebrities. Especially the insanely famous ones. The only celebrities anyone will probably meet are the ones that were in one horrific movie that barely earned 2 stars.
And even when they meet these "not-successful" celebrities, they still feel the need to post pictures of the autograph on Facebook or Twitter.
"Omg, look at the autograph of [insert celebrity name here]! I'm so cool for having this."
The typical "I love you, you're the best" or "It was great meeting you" or "You're the best fan ever" or any other typical cliche phrase that celebrities like to put on a shaggy Home Depot receipt will be the highlight of these people's lives.
But I can't hate these people too much.
I mean, if I saw Joseph Gordon Levitt on the side of the street, I would pretty much die.
Meeting them might be cool, but devoting your whole life to people you'll probably never see is quite idiotic. Especially to the ones who are famous for doing nothing like the Kardashians or Paris Hilton.
Let's just leave celebrities alone. They're really not that fascinating.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
don't get excited. it's only your imagination.
The simplicity of the sophistication is astounding.
I had absolutely everything I wanted. There were no freaky monsters popping out of tree stubs that longed to kill me. There were no zombies that tried to destroy mankind. There were no parents, no pointless teachers, no school...
Something was wrong. This was all too perfect to actually be reality.
But I'm not jumping from place to place without knowing specifically where I am. I'm not watching Inception, with the hopes of actually dreaming within a dream. I'm not controlling my thoughts.
I'm not dreaming. This is reality. This is actually happening...
RINNNGG!!!! RINGGG!!!!
Alarm...shut...up. This is way to perfect to be ruined...
Wait. I was dreaming? That was all a dream? My perfect life, my happiness? Gone? A dysfunctional society still exists?
I despise dreams. They're so complex. So intricate...so awesome that they almost always seem like reality. Almost every night, I have an insane dream. Something completely off-the-random. Something like giant zombies attacking the world...a murderer destroying plants for kicks...and old man with an intense mouth surgery?
This is the usual craziness happening in my head when my body decides to plummet into a unconscious adventure. But not last night...
Last night, my mind seemed to adapt some sanity. I fell asleep around the 12 o'clock hour (later than usual). I slowly drifted from being able to hear the sounds around me to a complete deep sleep of awesomeness.
Then...the dream began.
I will not elaborate, for my dream may not be considered appropiate to my non-exsistant readers.
But, during the dream, my mind was virtually full of utmost happiness and self-pride (for some odd reason).
Nothing could stand in my way. Until...
That awful alarm clock begins to sound. Curse you, alarm clock.
This is why I hate dreams. Waking up is the absolute worst part. And it's even worse because I get so incredibly excited, thinking my dream was in fact a reality. No. Not real. Fake.
And they make movies about these dreams. About dreams within dreams. Dreams within dreams within dreams.
I swear, Inception only made me want to dream my entire life. A profession where you just sleep? Oh, I'm so there.
The complexity of our minds is truly amazing. However, its a horrific sign of lost hope.
Just remember, if you start dreaming, wake yourself up, slap yourself in the face, and make sure you realize it's only your imagination.
I had absolutely everything I wanted. There were no freaky monsters popping out of tree stubs that longed to kill me. There were no zombies that tried to destroy mankind. There were no parents, no pointless teachers, no school...
Something was wrong. This was all too perfect to actually be reality.
But I'm not jumping from place to place without knowing specifically where I am. I'm not watching Inception, with the hopes of actually dreaming within a dream. I'm not controlling my thoughts.
I'm not dreaming. This is reality. This is actually happening...
RINNNGG!!!! RINGGG!!!!
Alarm...shut...up. This is way to perfect to be ruined...
Wait. I was dreaming? That was all a dream? My perfect life, my happiness? Gone? A dysfunctional society still exists?
I despise dreams. They're so complex. So intricate...so awesome that they almost always seem like reality. Almost every night, I have an insane dream. Something completely off-the-random. Something like giant zombies attacking the world...a murderer destroying plants for kicks...and old man with an intense mouth surgery?
This is the usual craziness happening in my head when my body decides to plummet into a unconscious adventure. But not last night...
Last night, my mind seemed to adapt some sanity. I fell asleep around the 12 o'clock hour (later than usual). I slowly drifted from being able to hear the sounds around me to a complete deep sleep of awesomeness.
Then...the dream began.
I will not elaborate, for my dream may not be considered appropiate to my non-exsistant readers.
But, during the dream, my mind was virtually full of utmost happiness and self-pride (for some odd reason).
Nothing could stand in my way. Until...
That awful alarm clock begins to sound. Curse you, alarm clock.
This is why I hate dreams. Waking up is the absolute worst part. And it's even worse because I get so incredibly excited, thinking my dream was in fact a reality. No. Not real. Fake.
And they make movies about these dreams. About dreams within dreams. Dreams within dreams within dreams.
I swear, Inception only made me want to dream my entire life. A profession where you just sleep? Oh, I'm so there.
The complexity of our minds is truly amazing. However, its a horrific sign of lost hope.
Just remember, if you start dreaming, wake yourself up, slap yourself in the face, and make sure you realize it's only your imagination.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
would you like a dramatic applause in your favor?
If I had to eliminate all other issues I have with the mindset of the basic human population, this would be the one, single, solitary issue that I couldn't possibly give up.
It bothers me to the extent that I cannot possibly live on a daily basis without being annoyed and mentally tormented by the absolute ignorance these certain people exhibit.
I wouldn't necessarily classify it as ignorance, per se, but it certainly is some form of stupidity or mental illness.
Certain people that, I can only assume, have a low self-esteem, and insanely high self-esteem, are obsessed with attention, or obsessed with being liked by the general population, have a specific issue with their personality...
They feel that it is completely necessary to share every single aspect of their life with the entire world.
If a teacher asks a question to the "general class," this person believes that he or she must include their personal input pertaining to the matter.
"So, how did the French Revolution effect other parts of the world during the 18th. century?"
"Oh my gosh!! My uncle is from France! I've been there twice! It's just so great! Ahhh!"
Students who actually wanted to share their answers with the class, who actually raised their hands instead of calling out, were ignored. Their hopes and dreams of impressing the teacher with their prestigious ideas were crashed and burned all because of this one student's decision to rant about a topic that is fully self-centered and had little to no relevance pertaining to the French Revolution.
This is complete and utter bull...crap. (Please excuse my weak word choice) I know too many people who exhibit this quality, and its sickening to say the least.
The fact that they want attention to be constantly focused solely on them is infuriating.
I'm about a 10 when I have to encounter these certain people. A 10. That's pretty intense.
I will offer you a dramatic applause, but in turn, can you shut up? For me?
It bothers me to the extent that I cannot possibly live on a daily basis without being annoyed and mentally tormented by the absolute ignorance these certain people exhibit.
I wouldn't necessarily classify it as ignorance, per se, but it certainly is some form of stupidity or mental illness.
Certain people that, I can only assume, have a low self-esteem, and insanely high self-esteem, are obsessed with attention, or obsessed with being liked by the general population, have a specific issue with their personality...
They feel that it is completely necessary to share every single aspect of their life with the entire world.
If a teacher asks a question to the "general class," this person believes that he or she must include their personal input pertaining to the matter.
"So, how did the French Revolution effect other parts of the world during the 18th. century?"
"Oh my gosh!! My uncle is from France! I've been there twice! It's just so great! Ahhh!"
Students who actually wanted to share their answers with the class, who actually raised their hands instead of calling out, were ignored. Their hopes and dreams of impressing the teacher with their prestigious ideas were crashed and burned all because of this one student's decision to rant about a topic that is fully self-centered and had little to no relevance pertaining to the French Revolution.
This is complete and utter bull...crap. (Please excuse my weak word choice) I know too many people who exhibit this quality, and its sickening to say the least.
The fact that they want attention to be constantly focused solely on them is infuriating.
 |
| "A Better Pain Scale" Hyperbole and a Half |
A message to these "self-centered" people:
The world does not revolve around you! It orbits the sun. The one thing in this solar-system of ours that provides life, heat, and nutrition. You are not God. You are not Jesus. You cannot be that important. So, please, I am begging you to stop replying to every statement as if it directly applies to you. I am begging you to stop trying to be liked, because frankly, you are secretly hated.
I will offer you a dramatic applause, but in turn, can you shut up? For me?
Monday, April 25, 2011
embrace the moments that are classified as "awkward"
The amount of awkward moments that I encounter seem to be increasing in number. It's as if everyday I experience yet another horrific event that usually ends in silence, wandering eyes by both parties, and the asking of inappropriate questions...which always seems to result in even more awkward-ness.
I hate them. I despise them. I wish they weren't an inanimate object....I would punch them in the face, stab them with a butter knife, and watch them die a slow, painful death.
It's a very harsh punishment, but they deserve it.
Because, awkward moments will never go away, we must simply embrace them. We should realize they're there, instead of trying to pretend there is, in actuality, no hint of awkward-ness at all.
We should flaunt the fact that we encountered the awkward moment and grow upon it, sparking a new conversation with the opposite party that exhibited the awkward-ness. A new topic has arisen...
It's a genius idea. I used it once in a grocery store.
I saw a teacher from my elementary school in a grocery store. She recognized me, but I barely recognized her. Awkward.
"How are you doing?!" she said in high hopes.
I was thinking...I'm swell, person I've never met before. But instead of actually saying that and ending with a disappointed kindergarten teacher, I said...
"I'm good. How are you?"
Brilliance! She bought it. She thought I knew who she was! HA!
We continued the conversation and eventually I used context clues to actually figure out who she was. By the end of the conversation, I told her I wasn't fully aware of who she was when the conversation first sparked.
She didn't blame me, for I have a young, forgetful, teenage mind.
The awkward-ness was admitted and accepted. It was embraced and we both proceeded with our lives even though we encountered a moment classified as "awkward."
So that's all you need to do. Follow in my footsteps, and you'll be alright like a piece of apple pie.
I hate them. I despise them. I wish they weren't an inanimate object....I would punch them in the face, stab them with a butter knife, and watch them die a slow, painful death.
It's a very harsh punishment, but they deserve it.
Because, awkward moments will never go away, we must simply embrace them. We should realize they're there, instead of trying to pretend there is, in actuality, no hint of awkward-ness at all.
We should flaunt the fact that we encountered the awkward moment and grow upon it, sparking a new conversation with the opposite party that exhibited the awkward-ness. A new topic has arisen...
It's a genius idea. I used it once in a grocery store.
I saw a teacher from my elementary school in a grocery store. She recognized me, but I barely recognized her. Awkward.
"How are you doing?!" she said in high hopes.
I was thinking...I'm swell, person I've never met before. But instead of actually saying that and ending with a disappointed kindergarten teacher, I said...
"I'm good. How are you?"
Brilliance! She bought it. She thought I knew who she was! HA!
We continued the conversation and eventually I used context clues to actually figure out who she was. By the end of the conversation, I told her I wasn't fully aware of who she was when the conversation first sparked.
She didn't blame me, for I have a young, forgetful, teenage mind.
The awkward-ness was admitted and accepted. It was embraced and we both proceeded with our lives even though we encountered a moment classified as "awkward."
So that's all you need to do. Follow in my footsteps, and you'll be alright like a piece of apple pie.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
oh....stop kidding yourself. for my sake.
There's something that's been grinding my gears lately...
Work, or "working" seems to be the number one focus to anyone who has reached the glorious age of 40. Maybe its a midlife crisis thing, maybe its a "I don't want to be around my family, so instead, I'm going to stress myself out over pointless 'busy-work," or maybe they actually like working!
I highly doubt that. No one likes to be stressed out on a daily basis.
So why do they do it?
I have no idea. Maybe I'm too young to fathom the complexity of the situation. So, I asked my mom.
My mom...where do I even begin.
She is the typical workaholic. She works all the time, day and night. When she's not at her job working, she's at home working. And at times, she purposely gives herself more work to do.
The common question around my house is, "Where's mom?"
And the common answer is, "Where do you think?"
...In the god-awful dungeon! (The Basement!)
She sits at her computer, typing vigorously. Any disturbance will not allow her to lose her focus. She's trained for this. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 hours at a time.
My mom is a college professor, a profession to which I wish she never acquired. She's constantly grading papers, making tests, forming grants, and complaining to my dad and I about how her students don't appreciate the work she's putting forth.
But the worst part of it all is that I have to constantly listen to her tell me how I need to prepare my life now for college...and not end up like her students.
It may not sound bad...but it is. 10 horrific years of the same routine. Asking me what I want to major in in college when I was only 7.
So I asked her, "What keeps you working? You're constantly stressed, tired, infuriated...How the hell does this make you happy?'
Her answer didn't shock me to say the least...
"I love the feeling I get when my students come to me and tell me how much they appreciate me as a teacher...I love when I get those little thank you cards, and appreciation e-mails. For some reason, its those little things that make the stress worth it. And plus, working pays the bills. So any stress is worth it..."
Well, this answer doesn't explain why most adults of this generation are workaholics, because, well, most of working Americans aren't college professors. But, working does pay the bills, so I guess I understand this whole concept of working like a madman.
So, to all you bank tellers, pharmacists, and associate directors of whatever, chill. Take a break. Live. You're not going to be able to experience all the things you wanted to do when you were in college when retirement hits.
You'll be old. And fragile.
So, live now. Please. For my sake.
Work, or "working" seems to be the number one focus to anyone who has reached the glorious age of 40. Maybe its a midlife crisis thing, maybe its a "I don't want to be around my family, so instead, I'm going to stress myself out over pointless 'busy-work," or maybe they actually like working!
I highly doubt that. No one likes to be stressed out on a daily basis.
So why do they do it?
I have no idea. Maybe I'm too young to fathom the complexity of the situation. So, I asked my mom.
My mom...where do I even begin.
She is the typical workaholic. She works all the time, day and night. When she's not at her job working, she's at home working. And at times, she purposely gives herself more work to do.
The common question around my house is, "Where's mom?"
And the common answer is, "Where do you think?"
...In the god-awful dungeon! (The Basement!)
She sits at her computer, typing vigorously. Any disturbance will not allow her to lose her focus. She's trained for this. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 hours at a time.
My mom is a college professor, a profession to which I wish she never acquired. She's constantly grading papers, making tests, forming grants, and complaining to my dad and I about how her students don't appreciate the work she's putting forth.
But the worst part of it all is that I have to constantly listen to her tell me how I need to prepare my life now for college...and not end up like her students.
It may not sound bad...but it is. 10 horrific years of the same routine. Asking me what I want to major in in college when I was only 7.
So I asked her, "What keeps you working? You're constantly stressed, tired, infuriated...How the hell does this make you happy?'
Her answer didn't shock me to say the least...
"I love the feeling I get when my students come to me and tell me how much they appreciate me as a teacher...I love when I get those little thank you cards, and appreciation e-mails. For some reason, its those little things that make the stress worth it. And plus, working pays the bills. So any stress is worth it..."
Well, this answer doesn't explain why most adults of this generation are workaholics, because, well, most of working Americans aren't college professors. But, working does pay the bills, so I guess I understand this whole concept of working like a madman.
So, to all you bank tellers, pharmacists, and associate directors of whatever, chill. Take a break. Live. You're not going to be able to experience all the things you wanted to do when you were in college when retirement hits.
You'll be old. And fragile.
So, live now. Please. For my sake.
Monday, April 18, 2011
the absolute insanity. the intolerable invasion.
Is it insanity? Is it an invasion of privacy? Is it dysfunctional?
I'm completely and utterly done with every aspect of this life. Well not specifically "this life." Just the people in this horrific life I, well we, have to live every single, god-awful day.
People are fickle creatures. I'm fickle. You're fickle. We are all so freakin' fickle. We change our minds constantly. We are picky about the foods we want to eat, the clothes we want to buy, the people we want to hang out with...oh! the people!
People feel the need to want to constantly be around other people for almost everything. They feel the need to talk to us about how their cat died last year...or how their dad told them they looked ugly. Honestly, I don't care about your helpless life. So don't complain to me about issues that have absolutely no importance to me what so ever.
People also feel the need to want to "help" with one's issues or extremely graving situations. Umm, no. If I say "leave me alone, I'm fine," I'm seriously fine and I seriously want you to leave me alone.
I don't need someone who is going to constantly "suggest" on ways I can better my life, or make my situation "not as bad."
If my life is screwed up, let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be...speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Sorry, I like the Beatles.
I don't need someone constantly reminding me that things are bad. Don't help. Leave me be. Let me forget about the crap and try to focus on happy things.
And I don't need a loquacious teen to tell me how.
I'm completely and utterly done with every aspect of this life. Well not specifically "this life." Just the people in this horrific life I, well we, have to live every single, god-awful day.
People are fickle creatures. I'm fickle. You're fickle. We are all so freakin' fickle. We change our minds constantly. We are picky about the foods we want to eat, the clothes we want to buy, the people we want to hang out with...oh! the people!
People feel the need to want to constantly be around other people for almost everything. They feel the need to talk to us about how their cat died last year...or how their dad told them they looked ugly. Honestly, I don't care about your helpless life. So don't complain to me about issues that have absolutely no importance to me what so ever.
People also feel the need to want to "help" with one's issues or extremely graving situations. Umm, no. If I say "leave me alone, I'm fine," I'm seriously fine and I seriously want you to leave me alone.
I don't need someone who is going to constantly "suggest" on ways I can better my life, or make my situation "not as bad."
If my life is screwed up, let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be...speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Sorry, I like the Beatles.
I don't need someone constantly reminding me that things are bad. Don't help. Leave me be. Let me forget about the crap and try to focus on happy things.
And I don't need a loquacious teen to tell me how.
Monday, April 4, 2011
a book review? venting?
Today, I re-read the introduction to Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison (I have read the entire book-just thought I'd put that out there). The book is absolutely wonderful. To be honest, it took me quite a while to understand the basic premise, but trust me, it was worth the "figuring out."
We had a full discussion today about the introduction of Invisible Man in my English class. I found it to be quite appalling. People just simply didn't get it. Maybe this is because I've read the book and I can somehow understand the point of view of the main character in the novel. But honestly, is it really that hard to comprehend?
This man felt invisible to society. He felt as if no one could give a damn about his existence on this Earth. Now, if I felt ignored for a long amount of time, I would seriously have some serious built-up anger inside this small mind of mine. And its not as if people didn't "acknowledge" him. They acknowledge him, realize his presence, and decide not to engage in any form of contact. I believe this makes being ignored even worse.
If you haven't read this book, or the introduction, I'll tell you what happens. A man, this "invisible man" is walking down the street at night when a tall white man bumps into him and calls him a derogatory name. The man who was bumped demands an apology.The white man refuses. The man begins to threaten him or "get in his face" if you will. The white man still doesn't apologize. The man begins to beat him profusely, still demanding an apology. The white man, bleeding horrifically, still doesn't apologize. Leaving the white man on the street to die, the man runs off into the distance, still feeling incredibly invisible.
In my class we were discussing mental pain vs. physical pain. Is fist-fighting worse than mental torture? Mental torture aka "being ignored" = way worse.
Think about the question before answering hastily.
Done? Good.
The human MIND is a glorious thing. But point blank...we need to be loved. We need acknowledgement. We need the feeling that, indeed, somebody does care about us. The feeling of being ignored is insanely excruciating. If someone was being physically punched by another person, that someone will feel pain at that specific moment...and possibly afterwards. But those wounds will heal. Eventually. At least someone is acknowledging your presence. Even if its not in a good way.
Being ignored...well, that's a terrible feeling. You don't feel loved. You feel like no one cares...or even wants to care. That leaves a huge toll on ones mind. It can lead to insanity.
This makes the "invisible mans'" actions completely rational. Built up anger, insanity? It all makes sense. The man is also proving that he is in fact invisible. The white man still refuses to apologize even though hes on the verge of death. The craziness!
This is what my classmates refused to understand. They didn't understand why this man would beat up this white guy out of the blue. It wasn't out of the blue. He had a rational reason.
And instead of filling the classroom with your ignorant ideas, let the people who have a clue, talk for a change!
We had a full discussion today about the introduction of Invisible Man in my English class. I found it to be quite appalling. People just simply didn't get it. Maybe this is because I've read the book and I can somehow understand the point of view of the main character in the novel. But honestly, is it really that hard to comprehend?
This man felt invisible to society. He felt as if no one could give a damn about his existence on this Earth. Now, if I felt ignored for a long amount of time, I would seriously have some serious built-up anger inside this small mind of mine. And its not as if people didn't "acknowledge" him. They acknowledge him, realize his presence, and decide not to engage in any form of contact. I believe this makes being ignored even worse.
If you haven't read this book, or the introduction, I'll tell you what happens. A man, this "invisible man" is walking down the street at night when a tall white man bumps into him and calls him a derogatory name. The man who was bumped demands an apology.The white man refuses. The man begins to threaten him or "get in his face" if you will. The white man still doesn't apologize. The man begins to beat him profusely, still demanding an apology. The white man, bleeding horrifically, still doesn't apologize. Leaving the white man on the street to die, the man runs off into the distance, still feeling incredibly invisible.
In my class we were discussing mental pain vs. physical pain. Is fist-fighting worse than mental torture? Mental torture aka "being ignored" = way worse.
Think about the question before answering hastily.
Done? Good.
The human MIND is a glorious thing. But point blank...we need to be loved. We need acknowledgement. We need the feeling that, indeed, somebody does care about us. The feeling of being ignored is insanely excruciating. If someone was being physically punched by another person, that someone will feel pain at that specific moment...and possibly afterwards. But those wounds will heal. Eventually. At least someone is acknowledging your presence. Even if its not in a good way.
Being ignored...well, that's a terrible feeling. You don't feel loved. You feel like no one cares...or even wants to care. That leaves a huge toll on ones mind. It can lead to insanity.
This makes the "invisible mans'" actions completely rational. Built up anger, insanity? It all makes sense. The man is also proving that he is in fact invisible. The white man still refuses to apologize even though hes on the verge of death. The craziness!
This is what my classmates refused to understand. They didn't understand why this man would beat up this white guy out of the blue. It wasn't out of the blue. He had a rational reason.
And instead of filling the classroom with your ignorant ideas, let the people who have a clue, talk for a change!
Saturday, April 2, 2011
*dramatic pause..."is it the end?"
Focusing on my past life, in a previous world, or possibly a previous galaxy, generation, or any other unit of the universe, I have learned that the significance of living is a huge factor in ones "so-called" eventful life.
But now that I am here, in this wonderful chocolate bar called the Milky Way, I have learned that the only significant thing about life is the end.
We, as a Dysfunctional Society, believe in a sudden mass death of every creature here on this Planet. We believe in ice ages, meteors destroying the world, and, my absolute favorite, the infamous black hole sucking up our bodies into space.
Are we idiotic? Are we stupid? Or do we just want some sort of recognition for even thinking that something of this magnitude could ever happen?
These three questions are hard to answer. The only possible way to find an answer is to take a poll from every single person on this Planet Earth (including the aliens) and that, my humble friend, is very hard to do.
So with every gasping breath, pray to your God, whoever he may be, (atheists..you are welcomed to pray too, sarcastically of course), that we as an absolutely idiotic society can live and not face the dangers of a hungry black hole.
We are faced with a difficult challenge here. We are told by society that we must eat Milky Way's just because they're named after this wonderful galaxy of ours....(Did you hear?! Now you can buy them with just a caramel filling!) We are told to watch movies like Ice Age and 2012 just so we will believe that the world, in actuality, will be destroyed in the next year. We are told by the History Channel and SyFy that we do, indeed, have aliens living among us.
To hell with this crap. Can we just live, please? Without fear? Is that too much to ask. I don't know about you, but I just want to listen to psychedelic music and eat my frozen dinners until my body decides its had enough of this world.
So, world, put down your survival guides, newspapers, and romantic novels...turn off the stupid tv shows like Jersey Shore and Teen Mom and a whole bunch of other worthless shows I will not name....grab a Twix, pause....take a moment....
Let's conquer this Dysfunctional Society!
But now that I am here, in this wonderful chocolate bar called the Milky Way, I have learned that the only significant thing about life is the end.
We, as a Dysfunctional Society, believe in a sudden mass death of every creature here on this Planet. We believe in ice ages, meteors destroying the world, and, my absolute favorite, the infamous black hole sucking up our bodies into space.
Are we idiotic? Are we stupid? Or do we just want some sort of recognition for even thinking that something of this magnitude could ever happen?
These three questions are hard to answer. The only possible way to find an answer is to take a poll from every single person on this Planet Earth (including the aliens) and that, my humble friend, is very hard to do.
So with every gasping breath, pray to your God, whoever he may be, (atheists..you are welcomed to pray too, sarcastically of course), that we as an absolutely idiotic society can live and not face the dangers of a hungry black hole.
We are faced with a difficult challenge here. We are told by society that we must eat Milky Way's just because they're named after this wonderful galaxy of ours....(Did you hear?! Now you can buy them with just a caramel filling!) We are told to watch movies like Ice Age and 2012 just so we will believe that the world, in actuality, will be destroyed in the next year. We are told by the History Channel and SyFy that we do, indeed, have aliens living among us.
To hell with this crap. Can we just live, please? Without fear? Is that too much to ask. I don't know about you, but I just want to listen to psychedelic music and eat my frozen dinners until my body decides its had enough of this world.
So, world, put down your survival guides, newspapers, and romantic novels...turn off the stupid tv shows like Jersey Shore and Teen Mom and a whole bunch of other worthless shows I will not name....grab a Twix, pause....take a moment....
Let's conquer this Dysfunctional Society!
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