Thursday, October 28, 2010

Alright.

I know I been kind of putting this off for a while, but I've been debating how to go about my self-made ordeal.

You see, this is my 100th post on this blog. I get overly-sentimental with things like this, and I had no idea how to go about in recognition. I know this blog probably isn't much to you guys, but this little low-traffic URL is a lot to me. [I would probably insert an analogy about height charts here, but I think that I've already used that one.] I started it originally a little after the beginning of freshman year, abandoned it for nine months and picked it back up again. This is probably the time in my life that I'm most prone to change in myself, easily affected by the things and people around me. Ideas plant in my head like little seeds, tangling and twisting in the catacombs of my mind to soon become an actual part of it. This blog pretty much allows me to organize those ideas and record my silly anecdotes that I'll always want to remember, for the purpose of later getting all teary eyed over the Way that Things Used to Be.

So, in honor of the passing of time and its affect on all of us, I have decided to share excerpts from my 6th and 7th grade "journal". Try not to laugh. Please. (Just click on the image to make it bigger. Adur.)


I was so obsessed with things, and even more so things that didn't matter at all. And I actually used abbreviations in written documents. I don't even think that's allowed.

Such a middle-schooler. You know how it is.

And this was something I wrote just the other day when I was feeling "creative". You can snicker at my shitty handwriting if you really must:


And these are some pictures that I took with that disposable camera that I found:





This was taken in an abandoned house that me and my dad found:


I have a whole rant planned to be focused on abandoned houses, don't you worry.

And to conclude this 100th post, I have a picture of a beautiful fish that I drew on the corner of my World Geography exam study guide:

I feel like I could make this post... I don't know... more characterized by eloquent vocabulary and sentence structure to demonstrate my growth as a writer.

Or something.

But I'm not feeling it.

IN CONCLUSION:

I love all 50 of you for tolerating me this whole time. :]

Stay fresh. Stay impressionable, keep changing.


☀K☁

Thursday, October 14, 2010


I don't think that I've been in such a happy state of mind since the innocuous years of my childhood.

It seems like for so long I had allowed the nastiest human emotions and character traits to harbor in my chest: self-pity, desire, yearning, laziness, embarrassment, overwhelming stress, shyness, anger... and I made the mistake of giving into them.

It's so easy to just conjure up a principle or two and stick to them: don't eat meat, run everyday, remember that all people are good unless mislead (in my opinion, anyway), remember that all people feel the same emotions that you do, take a deep breath when you feel like you're about to blow your top, stop wanting so many things.

God, I'm practically like Gandhi.

But really, I think that's why I'm so happy. I finally let go of those stupid emotions that have been setting me back, and I've never felt better. Life has been wonderful, and I'm so glad that I'm out of that depressing rut that I was in for most of last year. And to think that all I needed was a change of mind. I hope it lasts.

[aiight homeboys, philosophical moment over]

This is my 99th post... any suggestions for the 100th?

Ellie Goulding - "Starry Eyed (Dubstep Remix)"

[Dubstep is my latest kick. It's harder than hardcore, hah.]

☀K☁

Thursday, October 7, 2010


People like to live.
People don't like to die.
People like to be happy but
People aren't willing to cry.

A Day to Remember - "All I Want"


☀K☁

yesthat'sreallymeinmybedroomandasillypoemthatIwroteincollegeeritingtoday.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010


To everyone listening:

My apologies for the shock, especially to my family and close friends. I know that feeling of tightness in your chest that forms when you hear of the death of someone that you were relatively close to, especially if his or her time came early in life and without warning. I know that losing something so quickly is one of the worst feelings in the world, but I truly hope you realize why I didn’t tell you sooner.
I mean, it seems logical that I would tell everyone that I knew. I would get the first hand at everything. No one would dare to snicker in my direction if I tripped on a stray shoelace in the hallway, and no one would even imagine defying my opinion. That nagging thought would tug in the back of their minds each time I came up in conversation, or if I was given a passing glance. That poor girl only has a year to live. They would have no choice but to watch me deteriorate in front of their very eyes, that fateful day coming nearer and nearer. That one little bit of knowledge could give me so much power.
Where would this power come from? People’s consciousness? I don’t think that I would only be given such a power because I was mortal, but I would just be the one “fortunate” enough to acquire my expiration date a year in advance. If everyone else could easily die tomorrow, why should I be treated differently just because I knew? After considering this, I kept the news to myself, trying my hardest to bite back my tongue whenever something didn't go my way.
Instead, I did as any one else would do in their anticipated last year of life. I got myself out there and seized the day. “[I was] not coy, but used [my] time.” I ignored the annoying figurative voice in the back of my head. It could no longer make the argument that I had so much longer to live, and that I might as well do what is easiest and most risk-free. I could understand that if human beings had forever, then “this coyness… [would be] no crime.” But would humans really get anything done if we had an eternity? We are mortal for a reason: to get out there and happily do all that we are capable of-- bearing sadness so we can know happiness, knowing gruesome things so that we can know the beautiful things.
Where to start? The very moment I discovered that I had just a year (the method in which I won’t tell you --you wouldn’t believe me), my first instinct was to drop out of high school. I was barely two weeks into my junior year, and each time over the summer that some adult friend of my parents asked me which grade I was going into, “ohh man, that year is hard,” was the average response I got after I’d bluntly say “junior”.
If I dropped out of school, I could pursue the dreams of mine whose annual salaries would hardly be able to support the average low-maintenance person living on their own. I could get a book published, I could become an amateur photographer, I could go to Australia and do nothing productive, or I could write poems in my journal all day. Heck, a year would give me just enough time to quickly fall in love and get married and have a baby. I could have all of the perks of growing up without actually being given the long-term responsibilities of an adult.
But I couldn’t just drop out of school. School isn’t just a place of academics, but a sort of forum, a center full of young individuals around the same age group as myself. It’s where my dearest friends are, and it’s where I get the pleasure of being in their company each day. So, because of my dear friends, I gritted my teeth and weathered my way through junior year: the SATs, the term papers, the stressful track meets, the vexatious people – everything.
I’m not saying that junior year was relatively unpleasant-- it was actually quite the opposite. I might even go as far as to say that it was the best year of my life, even better than the innocuous time in which I was a drippy-nosed, responsibility-free kindergartner. For once in my life, I actually got out there and lived. Sure, I did some stupid stuff. I woke up at four AM one morning and dared to drive around the town in my family station wagon, despite the fact that I had a minimal amount of driving experience. I rolled down the windows and smelled nothing but the cool smell of early summer nights, feeling and hearing nothing but the strong wind against my warm cheeks. I smoked pot with friends, I tried a Twinkie for the first time, I dared to defy my strongly opinionated teacher in a heated discussion, I asked the boy I had been admiring from afar for over a year to prom (he said yes! I almost hated myself for not talking to him earlier), I took as many writing and photography classes as my schedule would allow, I tried skateboarding (I now know that I definitely don’t have a knack for it), I won three 400-meter races in track, I snuck out to go see my favorite band in concert, I spent my $7,000 worth of savings on things that I had always wanted, I made so many wonderful friends, and I only managed to catch up on sleep on those precious Sunday afternoons.
During this whole time that I was out knowingly living the last year of my life, no one would have ever suspected it. I think that most people just thought that I had finally “come out of my shell.” To everyone, I was just another outgoing teenager having the time of my life. My sole regret was that wouldn’t have had the courage to do so earlier without being given a time limit.
Basically, this whole situation really made me think: if everyone knows that they could die at any given moment, why do they give in to the voice? If everyone lived like I had this past year, I can guarantee you that the entire human population would have a radiating glow of happiness to it.
All I’m saying is that it’s not too late for you guys just yet. It is so wonderful “that you are here—that life exists, and identity.” As a human, you have the full ability to do wonderful things and to go out and live your life. You don’t have to drop everything you’re doing and go skydiving or something, but please, PLEASE take advantage of the precious time that you’re young and able and alive. Consider it to be my last wish.


....

Alright, your turn. If you're out of post ideas, I have a prompt for you:

Imagine being told today by Death himself that you have just a year to live. Write a eulogy to be read aloud at your funeral describing what you did in the past year.

(Yes, this was an English assignment. I got a 97 :] )

Stars - "Take Me to the Riot"

[It's easily my favorite part when he says "Saturday nights in neon lights"]

☀K☁

beautiful

 
 
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