School is the bane of my existence. Here's some reasons why.
1. Teachers. Do you not understand that I have a life outside of school? Sometimes I'll turn shit in late, GET OVER IT. It doesn't mean that you have the right to bitch at me and act like my future is on the line.
2. I hate people. I go to school with 2,000 other kids my age and I can count the people I actually like on one hand. I'm not anti-social, I just don't like associating myself with self-righteous assholes.
3. It's over six hours long. Hey Administration, why don't we come to school at 10 and leave at noon? There's an idea. Write that one down at your next meeting.
4. They don't let me sleep. You people make me come here at 7:45 in the morning and make me slave away til the latest hours of the night doing my homework that was assigned, and you have the decency to rudely wake me up in the middle of your lecture? Really?
5. It's nine months out of the year. Like it's great we have summers off, but what about spring? And fall? And winter....
6. Homework ruins my holidays. I couldn't even fully enjoy my Christmas vacation or spring break because I spent most of the time working on huge ass projects or studying for tests that were due the second we get back.
7. Homework: A
Classwork: A
Participation: A
Test: F
Final Grade: F
???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
8. I have to wear pants.
9. Twitchell.
10. Sophomores.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Miss INDIEpendent
I can honestly say... I don't like Hipsters.
What's a hipster anyways? Someone who loves coffee, but refuses to go Starbucks? An individual who will buy a plaid shirt from the DI for $4, but will spend $200 on Zuriicks or Dr. Martens? A man or woman who claims to be creative, so they work as a barista?
Hipsters are walking paradoxes.
I honestly don't believe that such a thing even exists. I believe in being different, and independent, but "hipster" is not a good way to describe those things. I don't think listening to Bon Iver or owning a pair of gel shoes makes you different. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't. Because the truth is, everyone is different in their own way. There are not two people on this Earth that are exactly alike, not even identical twins.
white is alright.
The other thing is, why is it such a negative thing to be "white"? I'm Caucasian, I'm from America, and so all are of you, so why should we be ashamed of that? For example, the book, "Stuff White People Like", why does it have a negative connotation? Am I supposed to feel stupid for liking Asian takeout? Or feel unoriginal for enjoying a girl's night in with my friends? If that's really the case, then Hipsters should feel stupid for having tattoos, black people should feel unoriginal for playing street basketball, and Mexicans should feel ashamed for enjoying drunken, unprotected sex. Everyone should just stop having interests because it's too "unoriginal" or it's so "been there, done that".
However, I do agree with the negative connotation associated with white girls.
I mean, if you're honestly taking pictures like this, you may want to re-think your entire existence.
P.S. To all you "Hipsters" in Alpine: You are white, privileged, LDS, kids. You are not "hardcore" or "grungy". Just because you smoke weed or listen to Indie music, it does not make you the shit.
P.S.S. I couldn't be a Hipster even if I wanted to, because I look terrible in beanies. Plus Folk music gives me a headache.
What's a hipster anyways? Someone who loves coffee, but refuses to go Starbucks? An individual who will buy a plaid shirt from the DI for $4, but will spend $200 on Zuriicks or Dr. Martens? A man or woman who claims to be creative, so they work as a barista?
Hipsters are walking paradoxes.
I honestly don't believe that such a thing even exists. I believe in being different, and independent, but "hipster" is not a good way to describe those things. I don't think listening to Bon Iver or owning a pair of gel shoes makes you different. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't. Because the truth is, everyone is different in their own way. There are not two people on this Earth that are exactly alike, not even identical twins.
white is alright.
The other thing is, why is it such a negative thing to be "white"? I'm Caucasian, I'm from America, and so all are of you, so why should we be ashamed of that? For example, the book, "Stuff White People Like", why does it have a negative connotation? Am I supposed to feel stupid for liking Asian takeout? Or feel unoriginal for enjoying a girl's night in with my friends? If that's really the case, then Hipsters should feel stupid for having tattoos, black people should feel unoriginal for playing street basketball, and Mexicans should feel ashamed for enjoying drunken, unprotected sex. Everyone should just stop having interests because it's too "unoriginal" or it's so "been there, done that".
However, I do agree with the negative connotation associated with white girls.
I mean, if you're honestly taking pictures like this, you may want to re-think your entire existence.
P.S. To all you "Hipsters" in Alpine: You are white, privileged, LDS, kids. You are not "hardcore" or "grungy". Just because you smoke weed or listen to Indie music, it does not make you the shit.
P.S.S. I couldn't be a Hipster even if I wanted to, because I look terrible in beanies. Plus Folk music gives me a headache.
Monday, February 17, 2014
?Nicole?
I wont use your real name because it will give both of our identities away. So I'll call you Nicole.
Nicole is one of my best friends, except I never see her. I don't hear from her, or get to know how she's
doing. Nicole has only been to four months of High School, even though Junior year is almost finished. Nicole hasn't had an easy life. Her closets relationships are with Heroine, Cocaine, and Meth.
She spends nearly six months of the year in a treatment center, trying to get better. But she doesn't get better. Her cravings get stronger every day. It breaks my heart, but there's nothing I can do. I feel small and helpless. She tells me I don't know how she feels, or what it's like. She's right. I don't. I don't know what it's like to have a close sweep with death, and I don't want to know. I'm glad I don't know.
I can't be friends with Nicole anymore. It breaks my heart, but I can't. My Dad forbids it. But even if he didn't, I'm not sure if there would be any reason I would want to stay. I can't watch her kill herself. I can't go through this anymore. She has put me in dangerous situations before, and that's selfish. Nicole, you are selfish. Why can't you just stop? Can't you see the way you're slowly suffacating everyone around you?
I Can.
Nicole is one of my best friends, except I never see her. I don't hear from her, or get to know how she's
doing. Nicole has only been to four months of High School, even though Junior year is almost finished. Nicole hasn't had an easy life. Her closets relationships are with Heroine, Cocaine, and Meth.
She spends nearly six months of the year in a treatment center, trying to get better. But she doesn't get better. Her cravings get stronger every day. It breaks my heart, but there's nothing I can do. I feel small and helpless. She tells me I don't know how she feels, or what it's like. She's right. I don't. I don't know what it's like to have a close sweep with death, and I don't want to know. I'm glad I don't know.
I can't be friends with Nicole anymore. It breaks my heart, but I can't. My Dad forbids it. But even if he didn't, I'm not sure if there would be any reason I would want to stay. I can't watch her kill herself. I can't go through this anymore. She has put me in dangerous situations before, and that's selfish. Nicole, you are selfish. Why can't you just stop? Can't you see the way you're slowly suffacating everyone around you?
I Can.
My Heartbreak
Insert skeleton emoji here
Valentine's Day always makes me think of you.
I saw you on Valentine's day at school. We made eye contact in the halls during passing time, and I hate when we do that. I'm not sure if it's because of Valentine's day, or something else, but I got hit with a thousand different emotions. Nobody can make me do that except for you, and I'll hate you forever because of that.
I still don't understand why I was in love with you. And yes, it was love. How did I know? Because I can't describe the way I felt, I'll never able to. If I try to, it won't make any sense. You made me feel like I was at a spa in Asia and I put my feet in a tub of water and a thousand tiny fish were kissing my feet. When we were together, I was dumbfounded. I could barley carry a conversation with you because it felt like a spaceship was going up my spine. When we kissed, I didn't want to stop. I wanted more, but not like sex, I wanted more like I wanted to give you myself completely, and I wanted you to do the same for me.
The day I realized that you didn't love me back was one of the most devastating experiences of my life. It was back in middle school, and I waited for you after class, but you didn't leave with me, you left with her. I felt humiliated. I felt used. I felt like nothing.
It was definitely a rude awakening. I promised myself back then that I would always love you, and I still feel the same way three and a half years later. I love you. You haven't made these years easy. Even though it's obvious that you are more into lust rather than love, I can't help but feel like you love me too. I know you still love me too. If you didn't, then I wouldn't catch you staring at me like the way you do. You don't like to talk about your feelings for me, like the way I don't like to express mine for you. I keep them inside the deepest part of my heart that I keep from everyone except for myself, but here's the truth.
The truth is, I haven't given up on you. If you ever wanted me back, I would welcome you with open arms in a heartbeat.
The truth is, I used to doodle in all my notebooks about you. Your name, initials, my name with your last name.
The truth is, I've named all of our children. And I want them to look like you because I love the way you look.
The truth is, I still care, and something tells me that you do too.
I'm just too scared to admit it.
Dear Daddy
Dad,
Thank you for taking on the role of both parents for practically my entire life.
Thank you for not abandoning your children after your wife left, like most men would do in that situation.
Thank you for sticking up for me as a freshmen, and yelling at Caitlin and her Dad after she spread rumors about me throughout the entire school.
Thank you for teaching me how to drive. (Even though it took a year and nine months).
Thank you for taking me on a daddy daughter date to see "Mr. Bean's Holiday" in fifth grade.
Thank you for all the times you've had to run out in the middle of the night to get me medicine or feminine hygiene products.
Thank you for pushing me to always try my best, even though quitting is my steeze.
Thank you for scaring away all the boys (sarcasm).
Thank you for keeping me from hanging out with people who could have potentially be dangerous.
Thank you for telling me I'm beautiful on the days I felt indescribably hideous.
Thank you for being my favorite man in the world.
Thank you for being you.
Thank you for taking on the role of both parents for practically my entire life.
Thank you for not abandoning your children after your wife left, like most men would do in that situation.
Thank you for sticking up for me as a freshmen, and yelling at Caitlin and her Dad after she spread rumors about me throughout the entire school.
Thank you for teaching me how to drive. (Even though it took a year and nine months).
Thank you for taking me on a daddy daughter date to see "Mr. Bean's Holiday" in fifth grade.
Thank you for all the times you've had to run out in the middle of the night to get me medicine or feminine hygiene products.
Thank you for pushing me to always try my best, even though quitting is my steeze.
Thank you for scaring away all the boys (sarcasm).
Thank you for keeping me from hanging out with people who could have potentially be dangerous.
Thank you for telling me I'm beautiful on the days I felt indescribably hideous.
Thank you for being my favorite man in the world.
Thank you for being you.
The Girl who chased Butterflies
I was an awkward child, to say the least.
I mean, how could I not be? My teeth made me look like a little beaver, and I could have passed off as a child from Dehli with a mole right on the center of my forehead. I preferred to be outside playing with neighborhood kids instead of inviting a girl friend to come over and play in my little mint green room packed full of creepy porcelain dolls (now it makes perfect sense why I didn't like being in there).
I had far more insecurities as a 10-year-old than I do now as a 17 and a half-year-old. All of these insecurities came from my Mother. She made me feel like a piece of shit before I even knew what that meant. As a child, my favorite food was mac'n'cheese. So what if that's all I ate, and I liked to wash it down with two glasses of milk, causing me to not poop for days? (my glory days). Well apparently it was an issue, because it made my stomach bloated. Who cares? She did. So she enrolled me into all kinds of athletics to help me trim down, but I quit all of them after about two months. Did it really matter to you that I liked to wear flower clips in my hair, and gaucho pants, and crocs? That's what my chubby little body liked to wear, so you didn't have to bitch every time I dressed myself. Just because I talked back to you, it didn't give you the right to hit me. Dad never hit me.
In first grade, the other kids made fun of me. I didn't have any friends. I was the weird one, the odd one out. Nobody hardly ever invited me to play games with them on the playground, so I chased butterflies in the grassy field all by myself. The reason nobody ever talked to me was because I didn't talk to them. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, they wouldn't like what I had to say, just like Mom did. The next year, I became more sociable at school, and the rest is history.
My Mom never gave me confidence. I had to search for it myself. When I was twelve, she left our family, and even though I'm still bitter about it, at least now I don't have to walk on eggshells in my own home. I can be who I am, I don't have to pretend or feel discouraged anymore. In some ways it's sort of sick that I'm more confident now then I've ever been. If I could go back 10 years ago, I would go to the little girl with buck teeth crying in her ugly room to hang in there, and that life will eventually become happy.
Some people wish they could relive childhood. I do not.
I mean, how could I not be? My teeth made me look like a little beaver, and I could have passed off as a child from Dehli with a mole right on the center of my forehead. I preferred to be outside playing with neighborhood kids instead of inviting a girl friend to come over and play in my little mint green room packed full of creepy porcelain dolls (now it makes perfect sense why I didn't like being in there).
I had far more insecurities as a 10-year-old than I do now as a 17 and a half-year-old. All of these insecurities came from my Mother. She made me feel like a piece of shit before I even knew what that meant. As a child, my favorite food was mac'n'cheese. So what if that's all I ate, and I liked to wash it down with two glasses of milk, causing me to not poop for days? (my glory days). Well apparently it was an issue, because it made my stomach bloated. Who cares? She did. So she enrolled me into all kinds of athletics to help me trim down, but I quit all of them after about two months. Did it really matter to you that I liked to wear flower clips in my hair, and gaucho pants, and crocs? That's what my chubby little body liked to wear, so you didn't have to bitch every time I dressed myself. Just because I talked back to you, it didn't give you the right to hit me. Dad never hit me.
In first grade, the other kids made fun of me. I didn't have any friends. I was the weird one, the odd one out. Nobody hardly ever invited me to play games with them on the playground, so I chased butterflies in the grassy field all by myself. The reason nobody ever talked to me was because I didn't talk to them. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, they wouldn't like what I had to say, just like Mom did. The next year, I became more sociable at school, and the rest is history.
My Mom never gave me confidence. I had to search for it myself. When I was twelve, she left our family, and even though I'm still bitter about it, at least now I don't have to walk on eggshells in my own home. I can be who I am, I don't have to pretend or feel discouraged anymore. In some ways it's sort of sick that I'm more confident now then I've ever been. If I could go back 10 years ago, I would go to the little girl with buck teeth crying in her ugly room to hang in there, and that life will eventually become happy.
Some people wish they could relive childhood. I do not.
Gandhi Inspired my School
Be the change you wish to see in the world. - Mahatma Gandhi
This may be a cliche post, but this is my blog, so I can write whatever I want, right?
Anyways, here's a short message that I'd like to share with all of you about my experience at "Be the Change" a few weeks back. After all the stupid games played in order to break the ice with your peers, the awful dance moves, free Chick-fil-a, crying with your families, hugs, and inspirational messages given by fellow students and teachers, I've come to a conclusion about high school students.
Every single person at this "World Class" school goes through shit. Our parents get divorced. Our Dads loose their jobs. Our homes get foreclosed on. One of our siblings dies. Our Moms get diagnosed with breast cancer. Our best friends go to rehab for a drug addiction. We go through hard, tough, sad, lonely, shitty situations in our family or personal lives. So why, do we as high school students still find it alright to put each other down? Life butt fucks all us anyways, so why do we still do it? Would it really kill you to smile at someone who looked down? Would it hurt your popularity to invite someone who didn't have any friends to be your partner in class? Would you get cancer and die if you were nice to other people?
We are so conceded and self righteous during our high school years. In the words of Lorde, "I am not a white teeth teen. I tried to join, but never did. The way they are, the way they seem." There are people in the halls of our school that fade into obscurity. Nobody knows who they are, but they all know who we are. They want to have sleepovers with the cheerleaders. They want to go to prom with Hannemanns. They want to show up at a party, and have people compliment their outfit, and carry out a conversation with them because they want to, not out of pity. But it doesn't happen.
We should all read this and feel ashamed. I know I'm ashamed of myself for realizing I also do these things to others.
This may be a cliche post, but this is my blog, so I can write whatever I want, right?
Anyways, here's a short message that I'd like to share with all of you about my experience at "Be the Change" a few weeks back. After all the stupid games played in order to break the ice with your peers, the awful dance moves, free Chick-fil-a, crying with your families, hugs, and inspirational messages given by fellow students and teachers, I've come to a conclusion about high school students.
Every single person at this "World Class" school goes through shit. Our parents get divorced. Our Dads loose their jobs. Our homes get foreclosed on. One of our siblings dies. Our Moms get diagnosed with breast cancer. Our best friends go to rehab for a drug addiction. We go through hard, tough, sad, lonely, shitty situations in our family or personal lives. So why, do we as high school students still find it alright to put each other down? Life butt fucks all us anyways, so why do we still do it? Would it really kill you to smile at someone who looked down? Would it hurt your popularity to invite someone who didn't have any friends to be your partner in class? Would you get cancer and die if you were nice to other people?
We are so conceded and self righteous during our high school years. In the words of Lorde, "I am not a white teeth teen. I tried to join, but never did. The way they are, the way they seem." There are people in the halls of our school that fade into obscurity. Nobody knows who they are, but they all know who we are. They want to have sleepovers with the cheerleaders. They want to go to prom with Hannemanns. They want to show up at a party, and have people compliment their outfit, and carry out a conversation with them because they want to, not out of pity. But it doesn't happen.
We should all read this and feel ashamed. I know I'm ashamed of myself for realizing I also do these things to others.
Humanity
The real question is, how do I know I'm really Human?
How do I know? How do I know if my family and I are really robots? How do I know if my best friend was made in a factory or not? How do I know if my neighbors are from a neighboring planet? How do I know if my boyfriend has a heart or an artificial one? I guess I'll never know for sure, but here's some things that make me feel alive.
If I were a robot, I would be made of shiny hard metal or plastic. Every day would be the same, and nothing could break my heart because it's made out of titanium. Nobody would love me, they would only use me to get a job done, and everyone could turn me on or off whenever they wanted to.
How do I know? How do I know if my family and I are really robots? How do I know if my best friend was made in a factory or not? How do I know if my neighbors are from a neighboring planet? How do I know if my boyfriend has a heart or an artificial one? I guess I'll never know for sure, but here's some things that make me feel alive.
- I know I'm a human because I have a body that pumps blood through my veins. I need oxygen to breath and water to drink I have a brain that helps me make decisions, but my heart always gets in the way.
- I know I'm human because I need love to survive. I need to know that I am loved and accepted, and I need to love other people. I'd rather suffer the physical pain of being hit by a big yellow school bus rather than see my Father pass away or be rejected by my best friends.
- I know I'm human because I believe in a higher power. I believe in God, I believe in Satan, and I believe in Jesus Christ, my savior and Redeemer.
- I know I'm human because I can thrive in the simplicity of things. A laugh. A smile. A bed. A skirt. A bottle of shampoo. A book. A movie. A kiss. A song. A scoop of ice cream.
- I know I'm human because I can use my body to create. I can create words with my mouth. Art with my hands. Tiny humans with my love.
- I know I'm human because I know that the sun will rise and set every single day. I know that each new day is a new chapter in the novel of our lives. Some days good things will happen. We'll get that high test score, or receive that gift we've always wanted. Some days bad things will happen. We'll fight with the ones that we love the most, or hear something that we could go our whole lives without hearing.
If I were a robot, I would be made of shiny hard metal or plastic. Every day would be the same, and nothing could break my heart because it's made out of titanium. Nobody would love me, they would only use me to get a job done, and everyone could turn me on or off whenever they wanted to.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Introduction?
I've Never Been Good at Introductions.
But unfortunately, life is all about them. When we are born, our parents introduce us to the rest of the world, by sending out little announcements that tell everyone our full names, birthdays, weight, and height. On the first day of kindergarten, your Mother spends far too much time making a poster for you to bring to your class, so you can introduce yourself, along with a bag of snacks to share with your peers, in hopes that they will like you. In junior high school, you can't rely on poster or snacks anymore, now it's all about what clothes you wear, how you did your makeup or styled your hair, and when you introduce yourself to your class, the looks on their faces say it all, whether or not they liked you, and want to sit by you at lunch or invite you to hangout after school, or if you're better off joining a nerdy club or team so you can meet other freaks just like you. In high school, the introductions stop because after three years of hell, everyone knows each other's business, and everyone already has a group of friends, and there is not room for one more. I could go on forever about introductions, but all I really have to say is that an introduction is a statement made by you in order to get others to like you. Sadly, they have never worked out in my favor.
So who am I?
If I really wanted you to know who I am, then I would just put my name up on my blog instead of coming up with a shitty pen name that exposes my lack of creativity. But I can tell you this. My real name is almost as shitty as my pen name. My favorite sound, sight, and smell is rain. I hate how sensitive I am. My biggest fear in life is never marrying or getting a divorce. I like sitting on my ass and eating s'mores ice cream more than I like running on a treadmill. I procrastinate way too much. I'd rather be on tumblr than do homework any day. I'm loyal. I have a hard time being nice to people I don't like. I still pretend I'm a movie star, and my dream is to win an Oscar for best actress.
I know that was long, and you probably got bored and stopped reading halfway, but I have lots to say.
But unfortunately, life is all about them. When we are born, our parents introduce us to the rest of the world, by sending out little announcements that tell everyone our full names, birthdays, weight, and height. On the first day of kindergarten, your Mother spends far too much time making a poster for you to bring to your class, so you can introduce yourself, along with a bag of snacks to share with your peers, in hopes that they will like you. In junior high school, you can't rely on poster or snacks anymore, now it's all about what clothes you wear, how you did your makeup or styled your hair, and when you introduce yourself to your class, the looks on their faces say it all, whether or not they liked you, and want to sit by you at lunch or invite you to hangout after school, or if you're better off joining a nerdy club or team so you can meet other freaks just like you. In high school, the introductions stop because after three years of hell, everyone knows each other's business, and everyone already has a group of friends, and there is not room for one more. I could go on forever about introductions, but all I really have to say is that an introduction is a statement made by you in order to get others to like you. Sadly, they have never worked out in my favor.
So who am I?
If I really wanted you to know who I am, then I would just put my name up on my blog instead of coming up with a shitty pen name that exposes my lack of creativity. But I can tell you this. My real name is almost as shitty as my pen name. My favorite sound, sight, and smell is rain. I hate how sensitive I am. My biggest fear in life is never marrying or getting a divorce. I like sitting on my ass and eating s'mores ice cream more than I like running on a treadmill. I procrastinate way too much. I'd rather be on tumblr than do homework any day. I'm loyal. I have a hard time being nice to people I don't like. I still pretend I'm a movie star, and my dream is to win an Oscar for best actress.
I know that was long, and you probably got bored and stopped reading halfway, but I have lots to say.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)