I can't really think of a title.

I don't know what's going on with my life. That scares me and it should. Although, I am finding it harder and harder to deal with the pressure of school, friends, and family. I'm becoming unmotivated and unhappy at school. My mom and I are fighting more. This is not my life. I feel like I am a different person around certain people, and it's not by choice. I feel forced to portray a certain being just so everyone I am around can be happy. But, what about me? I'm not happy.

It used to be that if I could make another person happy or feel better in life, then my mission was accomplished for the day. Nothing else mattered. I still am that person. That is my nature. I love everyone and I feel it is my job or destiny to please people. Lately, I've realized that being a constant people pleaser is a lonely job. If you try to be the perfect person for each and every person, you become different people and lose yourself. You forget who you are and what you really think. Trust me; I've been a people pleaser for the past 17 years. Because of that, I feel like no one truly knows me as me. At that point, one tends to fall into a depression.

Depression seems to run in my family. My Auntie G is always battling it and takes medicine to keep it behind her as she goes on in her day to day life. She is such a hard worker. She's at work until about 10 pm and doesn't usually come home until the early morning. She takes care of her mom, her son, and his daughter, Briana. I love Bri. She is my favourite cousin and we always have fun together. She has it harder than most kids as every since the day she was born she's had medical problems. The doctors predicted that she would never be able to walk and die around 6 or 7. She's now 14 and starting high school. It hasn't been an easy road, but nothing can bring her down. At first she couldn't walk and had to have surgery on her legs. She had to be fed through a tube in her navel. Even through all the hardships, Bri has been so motivated and happy. Sometimes I wish I could be half as brave as she is. She goes to physical therapy every week and is starting to run. It's amazing because she is still the stubborn, video-game loving, Hannah Montana worshipping girl I have always loved. She's never changed; not for any one. She is determined to live her life each day as Briana.

Briana has always inspired me to be who I am no matter what is occurring in my life - good or bad. It is not my job to lie about who I really am and I hope that everyone realizes that. No one should have to go through the pain of not knowing who they truly are. It is torture. I know that when I go back and read this in a few years, I'll probably cry. Realizing this will always affect me. I'm sure it will change me for the better. Well, I hope so anyway.

Musings Of A Random Girl

My parents got divorced when I was three years old. My mother, brothers, and I moved cross country to California from Baltimore, Maryland. My earliest memory is of me in the backseat, looking out of the back window watching my family disappear in the distance as my mom drove off. I'm not entirely sure whether or not that memory is completely true. I've had reoccurring dreams about that moment, so I'm sure some moments of that memory are figments of my imagination. Cut to maybe 7 or 8 years later. Settled-in in California, nice apartment, not the best neighborhood, but good people around me. I call my father regularly, but all my mother can do is complain about him. No, it wasn't always like that. She would hide her disdain for him when I was a young, impressionable child. But now, she does not hold back: he doesn't pay child support, he's too lazy to fly out here to see you; he was never supportive, always at a bar when you were a baby. First of all, my father got injured and has been on disability for a while now. To make money he fixes up people's houses or plumbing issues with his brothers. He has a fear of flying and does not fly anywhere, he drives. If he's at the airport to pick me up on time when I come visit him then I don't care how he gets around as long as I see him. According to my mother, when we still lived with my father in Baltimore he was always at the bar playing pool and drinking beer. But the way she tells it, he seems like a raging alcoholic that cares jack squat about his family. Not true. Yes, he did frequent the bar, and he still does today, but he is a safe person. He doesn't have alcohol at the house and he mainly just plays pool with his buddies and a few drinks at the bar. He is a hard-working guy and he will be there if you need him. I know that I can depend on my father anytime, anywhere for whatever reason. Sometimes I feel like he's more dependable than my mother. Don't get me wrong, my mother is not a horrible, wicked woman as I may have portrayed her. Quite the opposite actually. I would consider her one of my best friends in a way. We're always shopping or at the movies together. Maybe that's why we have our little fights; we're always together. I think that's why I've begun to pull away from her. Based on the way I'm beginning to behave, I fear that I have a fear of commitment. I've never been good at making hard choices. A therapist would tell me it's because of the traumatic divorce between my parents. Ha! Maybe I just don't want someone to get that close to me. I find that weird because I love to feel loved and I love that feeling when someone understands me. I doubt that's my problem. Or maybe I'm the typical daddy's girl; searching for my daddy in every guy that I'll meet. I sure hope that doesn't happen. Maybe because I've realized it now, I can change my path.

Is it just me, or am I that random. You wanted to know what goes on in my head, and now you do. I don't apologize for it.

Adam Lambert "For Your Entertainment"

Love In A Nutshell

I could only dream for a love like this...

“It is…. a great consolation in this life to have someone to whom you can be united in the intimate embrace of the most sacred love; in whom your spirit can rest; to whom you can pour out your soul; in whose delightful company, as in a sweet consoling song, you can take comfort in the midst of sadness; in whose most welcome friendly bosom you can find peace in so many worldly setbacks; to whose loving heart you can open as freely as you would to yourself your innermost thoughts; through whose spiritual kisses—as by some medicine—you are cured of the sickness of care and worry; who weeps with you in sorrow, rejoices with you in joy, and wonders with you in doubt; whom you draw by the fetters of love into that inner room of your soul, so that though the body is absent, the spirit is there, and you can confer all alone, the more secretly, the more delightfully; with whom you can rest, just the two of you, in the sleep of peace away from the noise of the world, in the embrace of love, in the kiss of unity, with the sweetness of the Holy Spirit flowing over you; to whom you so join and unite yourself that you mix soul with soul, and the two become one.”    

Saint Aelred of Rievaulx

Rose-Colored Glasses

Today was arguably one of the best and most freeing days of my life. I've been feeling rather tuckered out lately and I wanted to just give up. This day, not even the day, an hour of the day, made me feel better than I have felt in months. It's incredibly difficult for me not to feel good or excited for a new day, so I don't always feel the "normal" amount of sadness most people feel; I get depressed. I shut down and become quiet and simple. Expressing my feelings is sort of an unknown art form that I fail to grasp. Whenever someone wants to know what is wrong, I will lie to them if it's something serious. I rarely let anyone know how I'm feeling though I've begun to speak more freely with two people. They save me and they don't even know it. They rescue me from the cage of my mind. They help me set loose my thoughts and emotions and I can't thank them enough for that. I love them. One of these people made this day the best day of my life.

That one person can never cease to make me smile. No matter the state of mind that I am in, he can make me smile effortlessly. I have no clue as to why this is. My theory is that there is a light in him that shines excessively bright that it is impossible to ignore. I suppose I contain a harmonizing light and when two shining souls meet, it's like heaven. Nothing can break our bond. He is my best friend and even though we have only known each other for a year, I feel like he has been a part of my life since the day I came in to this world. He completes me; he is the answer to my soul.

The best part is that he brings me out of me. He evokes my true spirit instead of the people-pleasing, overachieving, introverted, know-it-all who didn't know how to have fun and just live! No, that doesn't mean that we're running around town drinking and neglecting our studies, it just means that I am now the true me. I live my life for me, and I have a clearer view on … everything? Well, maybe not because I cannot think of a word for that sentence, so I obviously do not have a clearer view on vocabulary. Maybe it was ennui, but I felt restless before I met him and I just couldn't deal with the way I was living my life. I was determined to make some changes because I was exhausted of having my life planned out for me.

So today, spontaneously and only for about an hour, we acted like our innocent, pre-corrupted selves. Before all the hate and ugliness of the infected world around us seeped into our brains. We played hangman, and chased each other around with markers, and then, even more random, we played hockey with two markers as sticks and the top off of a water bottle as the puck. I'm smiling right now from the memory. I still feel the pure joy of just letting loose and not caring what was going on outside of that classroom; the calm from slight ignorance. After that excitement, we made paper airplanes and threw them at our friends, hiding behind chairs so they didn't know it was us. Yes, we acted like three-year-olds, but I would greatly prefer the joy from acting my shoe size once in a while instead of my corrupted, blind age.

And I say blind because everything is interpreted differently as experienced adults, than naïve children. Whether it be stopping to jump in a puddle or roll through the leaves, it is obvious that children view the world as a place to explore and live a life of pleasure. Kids, in my opinion, are not naïve. I believe that they have the world figured out and as we teach them everything that is wrong with the world we blind them; we destroy their refreshing outlook. The definition of naïve is "not shrewd or sophisticated, showing a lack of sophistication and subtlety or of critical judgment and analysis." Basically, they see something for what it is whereas many people interpret the world with a biased and negative view. Few people are lucky enough to see our Earth through rose-colored glasses where the natural colors that follow us pop and glisten. Especially in autumn. Although, some of the blind attempt to look through these rosy glasses, yet they all fail to see the beauty on the other side.

I used to be one of the blind before I met these two people. Today was the climax of my release from my prison. Whenever we take a step back from our so-called hectic lives and embrace the naivety we once lost, our eyes open, we're no longer blind, and those rose-colored glasses transform our souls and take us back to the vibrant days ruled by our imagination.

Rant #1

Seeing as how I have not uploaded a post in over a month, I am going to apologize to myself for that right now. Self, I am sorry that I am lame and lazy and too much of a little shit to write something that would help me understand myself later on in life. That is what this blog is whether it seems like it or not. I write these posts so that I can come back and re-experience my life in order to better comprehend my feelings at that moment; so that I can come back and reflect on all the things that interested me and troubled me or just the random crap flowing around my brain.
I have wanted to upload a post about twenty times but I did not obviously. I quashed my own spirits. Whenever there was something that I wanted to rant about or comment about I chose not to. I held myself back. I could give a reason why I did this but I'm trying to overcome the negative parts in my life. Lately, I have not been myself and I do not like being what I'm not. My life is unraveling while things are flying at me at the speed of light. I am overcome and I cannot handle it. It hurts to be this confused.

But, that brings me back to the reason for which I write this blog. Times like this when I am hurting and confused and doubting my future. I can not elaborate on my thoughts because I have no words for them. This whole post is just me rambling and spewing out my feelings. There is no order because I am writing it as it comes out. It is release! Exhale. My fingers hurt as I type this because I think it is the fastest that I have typed in my life. I cannot stop until everything is out so I'm sure this will be rather long.

Now to begin one of my rants: I am pissed (not drunk, angry) because of the politics and the people in our so-called free country. Now, I am not gay so I cannot speak for gays and lesbians, but if I were a lesbian, I would be thoroughly pissed (angry) about the 31 states banning gay marriage. That's just frickin' crap. I would say that about 60% of my friends are gay and lesbian and it brings me to tears to know that they cannot get married in their own country. In their free country that supposedly everyone wants to move to because they would have a better chance at life. That's bull! Some people are able to get over it and accept it, but I can't. I cannot just sit aside and watch the people that I love be told that just because they "choose" to be with someone of the same gender that they do not have the right to confirm that relationship and be together officially or under god (depending on what you believe). For one, it is not a choice to be gay you egotistical, act-like-you-know-it-all bastards. To me, it seems like they are making gay and lesbian relationships seem like some high school fling that doesn't deserve the right to make official that relationship. I am sorry if this offends anyone but I cannot have all of this stuff just tumbling around in my mind all day, every day, haunting me.

Maybe that is why I am having word vomit. I have too many thoughts and annoyances in my mind that, because I have held them back, they have decided to escape and wreak havoc on my blog.

P.S. I am thinking of uploading videos on YouTube to accompany my blog. It's just an idea. It will not be as bad as this post is, I promise. J

Take a Second Look.

Today, like every day for the past 8 weeks, I went to my first class and waited outside for my teacher to arrive. Next door to my classroom is a Spanish class whose teacher I have always found to be rather odd. Every morning, like clockwork, she stands outside her classroom with an amiable smile on her face awaiting the arrival of her students. As they begin to show up, the teacher greets every student with a friendly "İHola! Buenos días" and shaking their hands as they enter the room. Of course the students just brush her off, shaking her hand as limply as possible and not even looking her in the eyes. Every morning this happens. Every morning the teacher waits outside and greets each student with a smile and a handshake and, in return, all she receives is a grumbled "hola." They all think what I used to think about that wacky teacher: Is this woman for real?
At first, I thought that having a teacher stand outside the classroom every morning greeting me in a foreign language and shaking my hand like a business associate would annoy me immensely. Although as I took another look at the situation, I began to realize that the teacher was not trying to embarrass them, but rather she was trying to show her students that she respects them as people and that she truly is excited to see them each morning. I would be grateful to have someone express their respect for me when no other teacher has.
As teenagers, many of us have those common, arrogant attitudes that we use to put a wall between our outside appearance and our true emotions. I speak for myself when I say that the person I project on the outside is not always in sync with the "me" on the inside. Sometimes when someone, say a zany teacher, graciously attempts to treat one as a mature young adult whom she respects, the natural instinct of many immature teens is to portray themselves as "too good" for her opinion. Believe it or not, I used to be like some of those superior (or so they thought) teens, constantly assuming I knew anything and everything and that I didn't need a teacher to respect me. Thankfully, I have changed for the better. I've always been a nice person, but the inner "me" would always scream in her little voice, "You know more than these idiots. Ignore them!" I absolutely hated that part of me a few years back. But now, I'm glad that I have changed and that I can see the benefit of having a wacky teacher like the one next door to my classroom that will always respect me.