Vulnerability

Maybe this is a slight hyperbole, but being vulnerable is one of the most frightening things; when I put myself out there, tell someone how I feel, it scares me. I never know if that person will reciprocate or if they will just discard the piece of my mind or heart I just slipped into that person's pocket. Ironically, though, in spite of that person's ability to utterly destroy me when I open up more and more, it's in that nakedness that there's also the possibility of being made far more happy than I could ever be on my own. It's a worthwhile risk, wouldn't you agree? :)

I was disillusioned in one of my classes today. It's so easy for me to look back at my past, or even take a look at my life now, and feel that it was and is really hard; however, though there have been things that have been difficult, after having a more intimate, personal class period (most of the class was gone, so there was less people there), I realized that I am so blessed to have the life I do. A few of my classmates spoke about their past and their lives up to this point and I never realized how many of my peers have been physically, verbally and sexually abused. I heard about people who had been in and out of foster care and people who had been ignored by many of their classmates, always being interrupted every single time they talked and had felt extremely alone. My heart hurt for them, yet I felt so inspired to see how optimistic they are about life, which was comforting. Everything just really made me realize that we never know what people are going through, so we should tread lightly and always be willing to be a friend and be grateful for what we have.

I have the most adorable three year old sister! A few days ago, when it was actually sunny (not raining super hard like today, yesterday and the day before that), I decided to go lay out in my secluded backyard. I wear a one piece swimsuit if I go out swimming, for modesty purposes, but, I have to admit, I own a bikini so that I can lay out in my backyard if I am lucky enough to see some sun here in Oregon. Anyways, when I was out in my backyard, basking in the sun, my little sister Kyra decided to come out. At first, she had clothes on, but, after a few minutes passed by, I looked up to see her walking over to me without a shirt on and then she decided to lay down next to me. She seemed so proud of herself and I couldn't stop laughing.

Do you know what else makes me laugh? When I hear boyfriends and girlfriends complaining and whining about not seeing each other for a day or two. However, after my initial amusement, I almost want to punch them in the faces! I never actually would, but I wonder how they would feel about not seeing the person you like for eight months. I know how it feels and it sucks and it's lonely and it's hard, especially when I have another year and four months to go. It's okay, though :) I've realized more and more that distance does not affect the way I feel inside towards this person (It must be just him, because, with any other person or emotion, things fade with time) and time doesn't mean anything when we have so much more of it. At least I have plenty to look forward to.

If you're reading this, create a blog and start writing right now! I want to know what's going on with other people and Facebook statuses just don't cut it.

"Precious and fragile things need special handling"

Is it better to love in your own way or in society's way? Loving in your own way can result in a lot of loneliness, for if you are so immovable in the way you treat people, it can chase people away; however, loving in society's way can also result in a lot of loneliness, too, because, while you may still have people flocking to you, you would probably never be completely satisfied inside, since you would be a product of your environment when you should be learning to live for yourself. It's hard for me to choose either way, but, luckily, many things are never completely black and white and there's some gray area.

I know I posted this on Facebook not too long ago, but I really like it: If you wish to touch the fingertips of love, rather than conforming to the way society feels you have to love, love in your own way and on your own terms; if you want to move past the fingertips of love, to caress and embrace, you must compromise a little: you must find the one you are meant to be with, discover their terms, and then try to fulfill them--it's about loving in eachother's way, together. After watcing Citizen Kane (which is apparently one of the best films ever made according to the film gods), I was inspired to write that, because, even though I much dislike the idea of conforming, I decided a little conformity is necessary, but, when dealing with love, on a small scale and with the one you are meant to be with; it's okay to love them the way they want to be loved in some ways without giving up who you are.

I feel kind of alone lately. Which, then again, I don't know why I say lately because it's really nothing new. Someone can have a mass amount of people surrounding them or have very few he or she knows at all, but it's what goes on inside that birthes loneliness. For me, it's like there's so many things working, yearning and churning inside and sometimes I wish I could just pull them out, but it seems to always be that I either don't feel like the person would understand or it seems like they wouldn't care to understand. Plus, no one really asks and it would seem absurd to just randomly walk up to someone and dump out everything when they weren't really expecting it. On the other hand, sometimes I don't really have anything to say, but it sounds nice having a constant. I guess I do have a few constants, though, and that's my family. I remember that, when I was younger, it would always be that I would go to my friends with my problems and always seek their advice, but I rarely do that now; it has become for frequent that I go to my parents. I just feel like my parents have more experience and would be better at helping me overcome anything I am going through; most of my friends have just about the same experience as me, or less, and could not offer me any words that I wouldn't have already thought of.

Do you know what I've realized more and more as I've gotten older? No one can make you upset, but you. It's funny, because it's hard to really believe that some of the words people say can truly not have an effect on you, especially if they are harsh, but it's just a matter of growing thicker skin. Though it's hard, it's beautiful in a way, because it means that none of us have to always be swayed by our environment. But, with that, comes individual responsibility; it's easy to blame others for the way we are feeling, but, when we recognize that it's our choice to allow them to move us, then all the blame should really fall on ourselves. It's, of course, easier said than done, but it makes me happy, knowing that I can choose, because I've realized that some people don't care or feel bad about outwardly throwing dirt on the things that I hold most precious and it's comforting to know that I can hold my ground in spite of that.

A Few Words

This blog is pretty blank. I think I chose the most unexciting, unoriginal background; it probably won't catch eyes, but I'm okay with that. As I was looking at the different templates and thinking of the possibility of creating my own, I thought: Why strive for so much extravagance? Isn't it the words, the thoughts, the ideas that really matter? So I hope that the very few that chance by can look past the appearance and soak in the color of words.

I think that, if I were to create a list of some of my favorite things, words (literally) would be somewhere at the top of my list. I love it when people say, "A picture's worth a thousand words." And, though I agree, I would argue that a word is worth a thousand pictures, for how is it that one could not picture blue waves calmly kissing the sand, flip-flops, children chasing seagulls and those in-love holding hands, when I say the word beach? The thing that is nice about words is that the pictures they paint vary from one mind to the next; if one were to see a picture of a beach, the next person would see the exact same picture and the exact same beach. Words are far more subjective and individual, although a photographer would probably disagree with me.

It's going to be interesting to see if I'm able to get back into the habit of writing in a blog. I remember doing it fairly consistently years and years ago, but that was when all I cared about was communicating: my social life was my most prized possession. I guess I still care about "having a social life" to some extent even now, but, in so many cases, I find it extremely superficial and a waste of time; it's the same old small talk and the same old drama and it's rare that I find anything refreshingly new. There are some exceptions, though, of which I am grateful. Moreover, no matter how old a person is, self-expression, especially in writing, is something we should all strive for, for it lets people peek over walls and look back into the portal of what once was.

So, for starters, graduation is up and coming--a little over a month to be more exact. It's scarcely real to me, although I feel like I've looked forward to graduating ever since I first started high school. Do most people think that it feels so surreal, too? It's strange, because, though I haven't had any scarring or damaging things happen to me within those walls, I hate high school; I've had friends, good grades and fairly nice classes, yet I'm so excited for this portion of my life to be over. Yes, I'm excited for the obvious reasons, like not having homework, but it's more than that. I've felt so constrained these past few years, as if I was a little puppet to do the school's bidding. I understand all the rules to an extent, why students have to write papers a certain way and why students must do worksheets, but I felt that each individual and his or her talents, desires and personality got lost when all students were required to do everything the same way, required to take the same classes. I guess I didn't like the robotic, mechanical feeling of having to learn a specific way; I like to think of gaining knowledge as a highly personal matter, where people are allowed to flow and dance to wherever their hearts take them. Even today, during my AP Government final, we were told: "You can't have your jackets on your chairs. You either have to put it on or keep it under your chair." and "Don't take your stuff out from under your chair until all the packets are picked up." Why does everything need to be so rigid? I'm sure they have some "good" reason from some idiot doing something really stupid, but it really made me wonder why so many school officials feel the need to micromanage every little thing, consequently causing people to not be able to live for themselves and, often times, killing people's imagination. I put my jacket on anyway. I didn't care that all the packets hadn't been picked up yet. I know it may seem like a stretch, saying that I feel constrained from people telling me to "put my jacket under that chair", but it's just one of the many examples where I feel like school, to put it generally, was constraining me in the most unnecessary manner. So yes, I'm excited to not have to be micromanaged for six hours of the day anymore and to live for myself a little more.

However, on a lighter, more appreciative note, there have been many things about school, both good and bad, that have made me a better person. Just thinking about it now, I'm amazed at the goodness of many of my teachers who have spent extra time after school to work with me or to write letters of recommendation when they really didn't need to. I'm really thankful to everyone who has helped me grow and did it without thought for themselves.