Advisment Musings February 9, 2011

I really don’t have much time to get anything worthwhile down, it’s the problem that I face every time that I have the urge to write. My notebooks are full of little paragraphs here and there of my nonsensical thoughts. I’ve been wanting to do an ins and outs for January, but I think we are a little too far into February for it to be acceptable to do so.

It’s February. The month of love. I just bought a “Crush Can” for my friend from her boyfriend. I think its cute. Lately, people have been hating Valentine’s Day. I’m sure this happens every year, but I’ve noticed it more this year, maybe because I don’t really want to buy anything for anyone. Being alone on Valentine’s day has never bothered me, I always have the love fo my friends. But this year, I’m still just trying to get back into feeling the love. Love haters are just so sour. I don’t like that I fall under the “sour people” category as of now.

I really do wonder where my life is going. In calculus, I’m constantly thinking about how I will not be able to survive the next four years without absorbing this vital information. I think that because I want an engineering degree AND a medical doctor degree. People tell me that I’m insane. I think I am too. I’m fairly terrible at Calculus (really only because I lack fundamental skills, I can talk you through a problem, I just can’t do it myself). It would save a lot of pain just to be a Pre-med Biology Major. Mercer would save a lot of pain. I’m still indifferent though — I won’t mind not being accepted to this program. I may still actually go to this college anyways, they have actual closets in their dorm rooms.

I might want to go into research, I might want to just be an engineer, I might want to get an MD and do Doctors Without Borders. I might want to do a lot with my life. I hope I do.

I think it might be time to start writing senior letters so my procrastination won’t get the best of me next month. I really only am counting the days of school that are left until spring break, after that it is just review and AP exams. 50 days.

Last year around this time, I met one of the closest people who exists to me. He was worried about the friends that he may lose due to the distance that he would be going away to college. I am too, I’m worried that I have  invested too much time onto some people and not enough into others. Sure, I may be a little sad to lose friends that I will inevitably grow apart from, but I’ve enjoyed the time that I’ve spent with everyone. I’m worried about regretting things. I wish that I could live without them, but avoiding regret is what keeps the world rational.  I don’t want to be lonely any more. The chain should come off the door.

Masks. February 8, 2011

Sadie’s is a masquerade theme, how fitting for a high school dance, a place where no one is actually themselves, just wearing masks pretending to be who everyone wants them to be. Then again, how fitting for life, this “putting on a mask” business is inescapable. Anyways, I don’t think I will be going to Sadie’s . I do not want to ask anyone. I don’t even want to go with friends. I just want to work or something.

Sometimes, when I have titles like this, I never actually post what I write. Just because I think that my ramblings don’t do the one word title justice. I’m fairly certain that this will be the case in the next 20 minutes as I fall asleep. I will ramble and ramble and forget why I even thought of writing in the first place. I will look again at the beginning to see if I had a topic sentence of some sort hint of what I should be getting at and will see the title again. I will see the single word that means so much that I have done nothing to define. I’ll think about how I haven’t posted anything in so long and feel the urge to click publish, but then I’ll realize that it doesn’t make a difference. I write for myself. Not for you to read. Once these words leave my head, I’ve done what I need to do, I’ve organized my cluttered mess of a mind.

But back to the one word title, Masks. I feel like I can’t take them off. It feels like if I don’t try, the mask that I’m wearing will become me (like its gonna melt into me and just never come off). I don’t want that to be so, not unless I like the mask. It makes sense to me, the way people act like nothing is wrong or whatever they may be willing to be true, eventually you just believe it. I’m not there yet though, I still remember that this is an act, it does not feel natural yet. Will it ever? I’ve shed the mask of makeup lately. I’ve tried to be more honest. I’ve tried to keep on the mask that I’ve been asked to wear. I don’t know how well I’m doing anymore. I want to give up.

Getting to know someone is slowly peeling off the mask. Why would you ask them to put it back on?

Think before you speak. January 12, 2011

A common piece of advise to people. I find myself repeating these words in my head constantly. Not even to myself, but in reference to what other people say. I know that I also should take this advise, but more often than not, I don’t have much concern with keeping my thoughts private. I’m fairly brutal when it comes to telling people the truth, but that exactly why what others say bothers me so much. I expect the same level of honesty from everyone. If you don’t like me, then don’t pretend like you do. Or if you do like me, don’t take away the power of truth by speaking those words without meaning them.

Thank you and have a nice evening.

My hair is thinning out. November 25, 2010

I’m 17. This shouldn’t happen. Yeah, I know, eat healthy, don’t stress, do this and do that. The thing is that  even if I did everything perfect my hair would still not be like it was a month ago. It is over 2 feet long. There is no going back.  New hair would never catch up to what is left. All I can do is protect what I have.  Sadly, this is what had been occupying my mind for a decent portion of this hour.

Vanity. It can dictate so much of what goes on in the world.

It’s Thanksgiving. All my cousins are running around my house gleefully. I am sitting here sulking in my room on the corner of my bed that is normally occupied by my best friend. That term had started getting so definite. I obviously was referring to a single person. For the first time in my life I was not saying “one of my best friends” but just best friend. It was a title.

Titles. What do people gain from them? Some strange feeling of having a place? I was talking to my best friend (a different one) and he reminded me of all the problems that erupt from giving people titles. I hate labels. I always have. Why is it that I wanted one? It doesn’t automatically make you closer to anyone. Security I guess. Not knowing what is coming in the future really gets to me.

Writers Block is killing me. I have somethings I would like to write about, but I don’t want to read it later. It leaves me trying to fill in the gaps of this feeble stream of conscience.

I should do a post on what I’m thankful for. It’s Thanksgiving. Maybe later.