Canker sores. Seriously, they are, like, volcanoes of pain and annoying discomfort. And that mouth-gel stuff only lasts for, what? half an hour at most. Grrr.
Well, I've checked two more things off of my Reasons to Be Stressed list; the Drama and Choir performances. Not to say they were both stressful in themselves. My partner and I in our little duet act skipped about a page and a half of dialogue (well, actually, I missed my lines to start off the scene). Thankfully, we went with it well enough so that no one except for us, and the kids working backstage, noticed.
And of course, there is the choir concert last night. Along with aching feet, shaking legs, and stumbling over my Non Nobis Domine intro, I also cried during a song. Yes, my friends, it was that dreaded "Prayer of the Children" I posted earlier. I pulled myself together as soon as it was over, but who wouldn't still be a tad mortified after sobbing in front of an audience of 100? After the concert, I forced myself to laugh in my humiliation, and not dwell on it, because if I did, all those good-willed people trying to comfort my would just make me cry again. Or make me feel like there's an ulcer eating away my stomach.
I blame my mother and her emotional genes. ;)
Although I have that much out of the way, I still have Midsummer Night's Dream coming up on the 17th and 18th of May. Not to mention...
*cue Freddy Kruger overture*
EXAMS.
*gulp*
But, I just need to take it one thing at a time...one thing at a time.
Speaking of May, it's cold down here. We finally got our heating system put up, by my ickle footsies are still freezing. It think the only reason I'm not, like, "WHY THE BEJOOBERS IS IT COLD IN MAY????" is because I'm learning to think of season cycles instead of month cycles. It makes a lot more sense. It's a lot easier to think that Halloween (or Samhain) is coming up than May Day (or Beltaine) with all its maypoles and warm weather and fertility.
Oh, just to clear it out of the way, I consider myself a sort of eclectic Pagan. Because "Pagan" is a HUGE umbrella term, it's easier to explain that, in short, I believe in the divinity of nature, in a God and Goddess, and the sanctity of earthly life. Samhain (pronounced Sow-in. It's Gaelic :D) and Beltaine are "Sabbats", or holidays that some Pagans observe. I'll probably illustrate more on some of the details in other blogs. Of course, however, I'm only 16. I've got a heck of a lot more to learn in life. This is just something that speaks to me as a personal truth.
Speaking of nature, when I was talking to Dylan on the phone a while ago, I suddenly heard this loud tapping sound from my window. I had my back to it, so I thought that someone was throwing rocks or something. When I turned, I saw this figure moving at the bottom of the windowsill. For a second I thought it was some person who climbed to my second-story window. But I looked closer, and it was a bird! It was pecking at the glass for some crazy reason. It stopped and stared at me for a second and ducked down. Then it came back up and started pecking the window again. I wanted, for some reason (probably the animal lover in me), to open the window and let it in. But then it flew off. It was pretty cool. A wild bird not six feet away from me. Granted, there was a window between us; but it's still somewhat exhilarating watching a wild thing up close.
Oh!!! One last thing. You know the poem I submitted to the sonnet contest? I won 2nd place!!!! And now a huge, banner-sized copy of it, along with copies of the other winning sonnets, are hanging in the lobby of the school. I, like, totally felt like a celebrity omg.
Well, I must be off. Homework and all that dribble. Might go sacrifice a cow to the Death Goddess or something. :D
Peace, love, and blessed be all of ye.
Lisette
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn
10 boxes of pancake mix and I still have no maple syrup. If I had a waffle-iron and some whipped cream, maybe I'd be obliged to use some of the mix, but noooo; I. Have. Nothing.
Some people just don't understand the neccesity of syrup. Nevertheless, I did have my daily helping of pasta---something I think I need to lay off of sooner or later. I can barely live the day without pasta. That's not a good sign. We all know that the first step of addiction is, well, addiction. And the benifits of being addicted to carbs can only last so long.
Well, I've been inching along the past few days. Freezing, in contrast to sweating like a pig during soccer practice AND a mile run during PE on Thursday. Oh, the irony. Friday I went out to dinner with a few friends. We were quieted by the waiters at some point. Heh heh. Well, wha'dya know? Teenagers. (It was only once, Momma :D) Yesterday I went to this Youth Group movie night down the block from my house. Laying down on beanbags and chowing on popcorn, we watched End of the Spear. It's based on the true events of 5 missionaries being killed by a native tribe, the Aucas, in the jungles of Ecuador, and how the family of one of the missionaries came to live with the people. It really is an amazing movie. Half of it was in the Auca language, so we had to put on subtitles. Despite my head being in an awkward position to read the subtitles around a kid's head, I really loved the story. Just the nonjudgemental sublty of it.
Being more than a little off the fundamentalist track, I enjoy watching a "Christian" movie that is actually more about that compassion one human feels for another human than people trying to convert savages. Not that I have any gripes with movies like Facing the Giants (to tell the truth, I really liked that movie), I just think that God/Goddess lays down paths for us to get to know and understand our fellow man moreso than for drawing our eyes to the heavens. I get warm fuzzies when I see that spiritual connection between people, in real life or on the big screen. No matter if you're Christian or Pagan, Muslim or Buddhist, Hindu or Atheist. It's really nice that we share one thing in common; love. Not the conditional, selective, attractive, easy, Mr.-Bingley-has-five-thousand-pounds-a-year kind of love, but the true, meaningful, simple kind of love. The kind of love that permits you to look past the black gauze of differences and old grudges at a family reunion. The kind of love that opens the door for a stranger.
The kind of love that allows a person to forgive the man who killed his father.
Everyone makes mistakes. Most of us makes some pretty darn big ones. But at the end of the proverbial day, we are able to find a way to remember that woman who eyed your husband, that punk who cut in front of you in the ticket line, that kid who picked on you in grade school, that guy who gets on your nerves every day; you remember that they are human just like you and me. Okay, so maybe tomorrow they are just waiting to tick you off again, but that's the way this crazy world of ours turns. You meet people, you deal with them as you will, and often you forget to wear deoderant. Those bumps in the road are learning experiences. Beat them bloody, glare, cry, yell at them for a good long while...and move on. I love every one of you guys visiting my page, even if you are some deranged maniac.
Okay, maybe there is some pity thrown into that love. But I'm not telling. ;)
Before I get off my soapbox, I'd like to announce that I am a TEENAGER WHO LIKES TO THINK SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING. Unfortunetly, there are those who enjoy opposing that sentiment. I'd like to thank them, even though I simmer with rage when they do. Wisdom and arrogance have a fine line drawn somewhere, and I know I deserve to fall off my high horse when I start to linger on the latter.
So, kisses and hugs and a touch of vodka for those of age. I hope you enjoyed my splurting. If not, blame my mother. She nagged me into writing another blog today. ;)
Some people just don't understand the neccesity of syrup. Nevertheless, I did have my daily helping of pasta---something I think I need to lay off of sooner or later. I can barely live the day without pasta. That's not a good sign. We all know that the first step of addiction is, well, addiction. And the benifits of being addicted to carbs can only last so long.
Well, I've been inching along the past few days. Freezing, in contrast to sweating like a pig during soccer practice AND a mile run during PE on Thursday. Oh, the irony. Friday I went out to dinner with a few friends. We were quieted by the waiters at some point. Heh heh. Well, wha'dya know? Teenagers. (It was only once, Momma :D) Yesterday I went to this Youth Group movie night down the block from my house. Laying down on beanbags and chowing on popcorn, we watched End of the Spear. It's based on the true events of 5 missionaries being killed by a native tribe, the Aucas, in the jungles of Ecuador, and how the family of one of the missionaries came to live with the people. It really is an amazing movie. Half of it was in the Auca language, so we had to put on subtitles. Despite my head being in an awkward position to read the subtitles around a kid's head, I really loved the story. Just the nonjudgemental sublty of it.
Being more than a little off the fundamentalist track, I enjoy watching a "Christian" movie that is actually more about that compassion one human feels for another human than people trying to convert savages. Not that I have any gripes with movies like Facing the Giants (to tell the truth, I really liked that movie), I just think that God/Goddess lays down paths for us to get to know and understand our fellow man moreso than for drawing our eyes to the heavens. I get warm fuzzies when I see that spiritual connection between people, in real life or on the big screen. No matter if you're Christian or Pagan, Muslim or Buddhist, Hindu or Atheist. It's really nice that we share one thing in common; love. Not the conditional, selective, attractive, easy, Mr.-Bingley-has-five-thousand-pounds-a-year kind of love, but the true, meaningful, simple kind of love. The kind of love that permits you to look past the black gauze of differences and old grudges at a family reunion. The kind of love that opens the door for a stranger.
The kind of love that allows a person to forgive the man who killed his father.
Everyone makes mistakes. Most of us makes some pretty darn big ones. But at the end of the proverbial day, we are able to find a way to remember that woman who eyed your husband, that punk who cut in front of you in the ticket line, that kid who picked on you in grade school, that guy who gets on your nerves every day; you remember that they are human just like you and me. Okay, so maybe tomorrow they are just waiting to tick you off again, but that's the way this crazy world of ours turns. You meet people, you deal with them as you will, and often you forget to wear deoderant. Those bumps in the road are learning experiences. Beat them bloody, glare, cry, yell at them for a good long while...and move on. I love every one of you guys visiting my page, even if you are some deranged maniac.
Okay, maybe there is some pity thrown into that love. But I'm not telling. ;)
Before I get off my soapbox, I'd like to announce that I am a TEENAGER WHO LIKES TO THINK SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING. Unfortunetly, there are those who enjoy opposing that sentiment. I'd like to thank them, even though I simmer with rage when they do. Wisdom and arrogance have a fine line drawn somewhere, and I know I deserve to fall off my high horse when I start to linger on the latter.
So, kisses and hugs and a touch of vodka for those of age. I hope you enjoyed my splurting. If not, blame my mother. She nagged me into writing another blog today. ;)
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Put Your Records On
I don't understand why our world has to be so messed up sometimes. One moment I'm listening to the sweet voice of Corinne Bailey Rae or laughing with friends, and the next my heart is getting frozen from the inside out when I hear that 32 people have been shot at Virginia Tech.
I don't really know what to say in this blog, so try to stay with me as I try to gather my thoughts about this subject.
There are too many things you can say about this, and that people have already said about this. One of these "things" is gun control. Ever since Monday I've been hearing this subject over and over in my school and on the news; opinions from all sides. I hear the people demanding stricter gun policies in the States, I hear people scolding those people for being so insensitive to those who are still mourning their slaughtered friends and family, and I hear those who agree on both sides. I think I'm teetering toward the latter, personally.
Last night my boyfriend, Dylan, and I talked extensively about this over the phone (don't worry, it was Vonage; no horrifying international charges ;) ). His opinion on the matter was that the gun control issue has been too loose for too long. You can buy a gun at your local Wal-Mart now. Of course, you get background checks, etc., but Cho Seung-Hui was checked, and look what happened. I agreed that it is too easy for anyone to get access to guns these days. I think that the idea of my neighbor or my friend having a gun is chilling, no matter if I know their intentions or not.
It takes one thought, ONE THOUGHT with a gun and you can end a life. That's frightening.
Take the military, the police force. Guns and other weapons are unavoidable in those jobs, I know that. But, for the most part, those weapons are handled by people who know what they're doing. I feel secure with that ideology (although there are always exceptions, unfortunately), and that's a completely different subject than the idea of some Average Joe going into a Wal-Mart and purchasing a rifle after a 10-minute background check.
People aren't stupid. They're lazy. They don't want to look red-tape and conflict in the face. And for those that do---there are just too few of them.
Do I think gun control will be processed and discuss heatedly among politicians? Initially, but the scare will die out in a few months. That's the worse-case scenario in my opinion. The public is just so fickle. It drives me mad. It seems all I can do is steam about it over the Internet and put out my opinion when I can to convince my generation that if they want to go shoot something, it should keep to the video games and paintball fields.
I don't think that society has anything to do with the overall horror that Cho Seung-Hui created, no matter what he said. Yeah, people could have done more to keep an eye on him, or even the courts could have acted faster in deciding his mental situation, but I truly think it was his fault. Despite my idealistic nature, I feel that he messed himself up. He let himself fester in hate and violence without any intention of turning back. It was a definite choice of his. I've known people who have that mindset on mankind, and on themselves. I've known people who just wallow in anger and hate, glorifying themselves as Princes of Darkness. I have had my time with the quiet, seething despair of useless anger, but I always found in myself that spark of life that pulls me out of that hole almost instantly.
Cho Seung-Hui bought those guns. He never asked for help. He had blamed society when it had done nothing. He was insane, but he brought it upon himself. There are people like that, people I have, and still do, meet. No as far-gone, but definitely the beginning stages; those teenage years.
You know, after all of this, I know there are a few things I need to do. Things I need to talk to my friends about. Things I need to change about myself and how I act toward some people.
Life is so fragile.
Why is it that all that is fragile so precious? And why have we come to a point where it is cast aside so easily?
We are singing this in my choir. Every time we do, I get choked up. Today I had to force myself to only read the notes, and not the lyrics, because I knew if I did I would start to cry.
Prayer of the Children by Kurt Bestor
Can you hear the prayer of the children?
On bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry
Turning heavenward toward the light
Crying Jesus, help me
To see the morning light-of one more day
But if I should die before I wake,
I pray my soul to take
Can you feel the hearts of the children?
Aching for home, for something of their very own
Reaching hands, with nothing to hold on to,
But hope for a better day a better day
Crying Jesus, help me
To feel the love again in my own land
But if unknown roads lead away from home,
Give me loving arms, away from harm
Can you hear the voice of the children?
Softly pleading for silence in a shattered world?
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate,
Blood of the innocent on their hands
Crying Jesus, help me
To feel the sun again upon my face,
For when darkness clears I know you're near,
Bringing peace again
Dali cujete sve djecje molitive?
Can you hear all the children's prayers?
Can you hear the prayer of the children?
I don't really know what to say in this blog, so try to stay with me as I try to gather my thoughts about this subject.
There are too many things you can say about this, and that people have already said about this. One of these "things" is gun control. Ever since Monday I've been hearing this subject over and over in my school and on the news; opinions from all sides. I hear the people demanding stricter gun policies in the States, I hear people scolding those people for being so insensitive to those who are still mourning their slaughtered friends and family, and I hear those who agree on both sides. I think I'm teetering toward the latter, personally.
Last night my boyfriend, Dylan, and I talked extensively about this over the phone (don't worry, it was Vonage; no horrifying international charges ;) ). His opinion on the matter was that the gun control issue has been too loose for too long. You can buy a gun at your local Wal-Mart now. Of course, you get background checks, etc., but Cho Seung-Hui was checked, and look what happened. I agreed that it is too easy for anyone to get access to guns these days. I think that the idea of my neighbor or my friend having a gun is chilling, no matter if I know their intentions or not.
It takes one thought, ONE THOUGHT with a gun and you can end a life. That's frightening.
Take the military, the police force. Guns and other weapons are unavoidable in those jobs, I know that. But, for the most part, those weapons are handled by people who know what they're doing. I feel secure with that ideology (although there are always exceptions, unfortunately), and that's a completely different subject than the idea of some Average Joe going into a Wal-Mart and purchasing a rifle after a 10-minute background check.
People aren't stupid. They're lazy. They don't want to look red-tape and conflict in the face. And for those that do---there are just too few of them.
Do I think gun control will be processed and discuss heatedly among politicians? Initially, but the scare will die out in a few months. That's the worse-case scenario in my opinion. The public is just so fickle. It drives me mad. It seems all I can do is steam about it over the Internet and put out my opinion when I can to convince my generation that if they want to go shoot something, it should keep to the video games and paintball fields.
I don't think that society has anything to do with the overall horror that Cho Seung-Hui created, no matter what he said. Yeah, people could have done more to keep an eye on him, or even the courts could have acted faster in deciding his mental situation, but I truly think it was his fault. Despite my idealistic nature, I feel that he messed himself up. He let himself fester in hate and violence without any intention of turning back. It was a definite choice of his. I've known people who have that mindset on mankind, and on themselves. I've known people who just wallow in anger and hate, glorifying themselves as Princes of Darkness. I have had my time with the quiet, seething despair of useless anger, but I always found in myself that spark of life that pulls me out of that hole almost instantly.
Cho Seung-Hui bought those guns. He never asked for help. He had blamed society when it had done nothing. He was insane, but he brought it upon himself. There are people like that, people I have, and still do, meet. No as far-gone, but definitely the beginning stages; those teenage years.
You know, after all of this, I know there are a few things I need to do. Things I need to talk to my friends about. Things I need to change about myself and how I act toward some people.
Life is so fragile.
Why is it that all that is fragile so precious? And why have we come to a point where it is cast aside so easily?
We are singing this in my choir. Every time we do, I get choked up. Today I had to force myself to only read the notes, and not the lyrics, because I knew if I did I would start to cry.
Prayer of the Children by Kurt Bestor
Can you hear the prayer of the children?
On bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry
Turning heavenward toward the light
Crying Jesus, help me
To see the morning light-of one more day
But if I should die before I wake,
I pray my soul to take
Can you feel the hearts of the children?
Aching for home, for something of their very own
Reaching hands, with nothing to hold on to,
But hope for a better day a better day
Crying Jesus, help me
To feel the love again in my own land
But if unknown roads lead away from home,
Give me loving arms, away from harm
Can you hear the voice of the children?
Softly pleading for silence in a shattered world?
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate,
Blood of the innocent on their hands
Crying Jesus, help me
To feel the sun again upon my face,
For when darkness clears I know you're near,
Bringing peace again
Dali cujete sve djecje molitive?
Can you hear all the children's prayers?
Can you hear the prayer of the children?
Monday, April 16, 2007
What of Dreams?
Well, another day in the life of...well, me. Quick update for anyone not in the know-how:
I'm in a lot of creative endeavors at the moment and I struggling not to feel too panicked. I am a main part of the Shakesperian play "A Midsummer Night's Dream", doing a duet act for the drama festival, I'm performing in the choir festival (which is right after the drama festival), and I just finished writing a shakesperian sonnet for a contest today. And, of course, there is always that necsissary evil; homework.
As many of you know, I'm not the best of organizers *cough*. BUT, I have everything under control.
So far.
ANYWAY, since I know you all are just dying to read that sonnet I mentioned earlier, here it is:
What of Dreams?
Soft is the slip of the mind into dreams-
The soul is awash to that swirling pool;
Light is veiled, the sun surrenders its beams
An' the journey is set by Queen Mab's spool.
She unravels the thread of time and space:
Drift, dear dreamer, to Avalon's shore,
Where pixies' play and witches' dance unlace
Your earthly troubles evermore, e'ermore.
The Moon strikes shadows to hide the mys'tries,
And her strings of silver alight the ground
To reveal the glitter of fairy trees
Before the harps of the morning sound.
Though all dreams must end, and journeys must too;
Their whisper of magic will stay with you
Yeah, I hope I get placed. :D
Well, speaking of homework, I need to work on some Animal Farm questions for English. Lots of love to everyone!!!!!!
Lisette
I'm in a lot of creative endeavors at the moment and I struggling not to feel too panicked. I am a main part of the Shakesperian play "A Midsummer Night's Dream", doing a duet act for the drama festival, I'm performing in the choir festival (which is right after the drama festival), and I just finished writing a shakesperian sonnet for a contest today. And, of course, there is always that necsissary evil; homework.
As many of you know, I'm not the best of organizers *cough*. BUT, I have everything under control.
So far.
ANYWAY, since I know you all are just dying to read that sonnet I mentioned earlier, here it is:
What of Dreams?
Soft is the slip of the mind into dreams-
The soul is awash to that swirling pool;
Light is veiled, the sun surrenders its beams
An' the journey is set by Queen Mab's spool.
She unravels the thread of time and space:
Drift, dear dreamer, to Avalon's shore,
Where pixies' play and witches' dance unlace
Your earthly troubles evermore, e'ermore.
The Moon strikes shadows to hide the mys'tries,
And her strings of silver alight the ground
To reveal the glitter of fairy trees
Before the harps of the morning sound.
Though all dreams must end, and journeys must too;
Their whisper of magic will stay with you
Yeah, I hope I get placed. :D
Well, speaking of homework, I need to work on some Animal Farm questions for English. Lots of love to everyone!!!!!!
Lisette
Sunday, April 15, 2007
The Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide is the Press Coverage
First blog on my blog! How extremely exciting. Although it is most likely that only a few friends and family will be reading this. But hey; that's the beauty of spilling your guts on the internet.
Well, maybe beauty isn't the right word.
Anyway, what better to post than posting a post that you posted before about something deep and thoughtful? I thought so.
This is an old MySpace Blog entry/ies. All bundled and jumbled for your reading pleasure.
Everywhere in the world you find people who never move more than 50 miles, or less, from their hometown. Especially here, in the 'Southern United States, a ridiculous amount of people are so scared of new things, new places, new people, that they live in the same towns, raise the same families, do the same jobs, live the same damn life as their parents, their parents' parents, etc. etc. It's ridiculous. The cycle of closed-mindedness and fear is hurting our society. People don't care for the world. Either that or they are so inexperianced that they've built this fantasy, stereotypical world around themselves to fill in the gaps.
And what's feeding this? TV. I'm not dead against news stations, but isn't it true that people are satisfied with learning "what's going on in the world" in a TV, taking what's being fed to them by nearly staged performances? Along with news stations, people tend to only know about other countries, other people, other states for that matter, only by movies, cartoons, sitcoms, etc. Therefore, children along with adults haare learning about stereotypes, which is offending in my opinion.
I must admit, it's not technology that's cutting people off from the world. Quite the contrary, I believe. It's actually making it much easier. However, it does cut people off from experiancing the world. Looking back on these short paragraphs however, I realize that this is quite redundant. I'm not going to convince adults with this.
But I can convice my generation. Humans have a natural urge to learn, gather information, experiance. Pride, easy-money, and welfare sufficates this urge. Many teens these days don't want to learn (though we are getting better at it). Why? Because they're afraid of making mistakes. How screwed up is that? We're human, and as humans, we mess up. We don't want to mess up, but we do. Some people are smarter than others, but does that mean that all those other kids who don't care about learning in schools and believe they'll be happy digging ditches for the rest of their lives can never experiance life? There are lessons of life that you can't learn in a classroom. And anyone can learn them if they really care to.
I've moved recently to Argentina. I left my home, and so many people I care about. I moved once before, to italy, but I never had any connections with my previous home. I just...went with the flow, you know?
But this time I actually felt something. I did not try to distance myself from anyone or anything this time. I feel a loss, and I've cried about it. I feel human, not just someone who wants to go with the flow, someone whose emotions adapt instantly to new circumstances. I don't want to helplessly accept that I will never see these people again, to forget the memories so easily. I want to be dragged kicking and screaming away from the people I love. I want to fight circumstances tooth and nail, even if there is no hope of changing them. I want to wrestle out of my mother's grasp just to hug and kiss my love one last time.
You know what? I'm just going to let you, the reader, into my mind for a second. See what I see. See if what I see is something that pulls at you. 'Cause it sure as hell pulls at me.
I want to live.
I want to see the Northern Lights in the barren white wastelands of the Artic.
I want to see the fantasy-like spirals on the roofs in Russia and Moracco. Hear the roar of an open ocean, with no human life for hundreds of miles in any direction. I want to learn a new language. I want to write a song about love, life, and absolute morphine-filled happiness and fire. I want to feel the vibrations of the world's biggest cities, with millions of souls mingling with mine, knowing that we are all connected. Even if some of us never know it.
I want to live.
I want to feel my heart break at the sight of the lowest of human situations. I want to meet people, catch a glimpse of thier soul even if I only know how to say 'Hi', or even less, in their native tongue. I want to speed down a clear interstate with nothing but the top down and my voice mingling with my favorite artist. I want to get a henna tattoo in India, and a blessed rosary from Rome. I want to get a snake for a pet and name him Steve after the Crocodile Hunter--God Bless his soul XD.
I want to live.
I want to learn the intoxicating tango, to swordfight like the great fictional and real swashbucklers of the past. I want to shop in the colorful, vibrant markets in Dahli, Mexico City, and Paris. I want to eat exotic cuisine which names I can't pronounce. I want to climb mountains, sky-dive, bunjee-jump, risk my skin with no remorse. I want to have a Divine Experiance. I want to see things I'm not 'supposed' to see. I want to climb Mount Everest and yell my love's name to the Heavens.
I want to live.
I want to write a novel. I want to act in a major blockbuster. I want to see the glaringly whitewashed, blue-roofed houses of Greece. I want to settle down with my soul mate. I want to raise the best family on earth. I want to make a difference in the world. I want to die fufilled and happy.....and in something gloriously romantic, like an epic battle. I want to love. I want to live.
I will.
Well, maybe beauty isn't the right word.
Anyway, what better to post than posting a post that you posted before about something deep and thoughtful? I thought so.
This is an old MySpace Blog entry/ies. All bundled and jumbled for your reading pleasure.
Everywhere in the world you find people who never move more than 50 miles, or less, from their hometown. Especially here, in the 'Southern United States, a ridiculous amount of people are so scared of new things, new places, new people, that they live in the same towns, raise the same families, do the same jobs, live the same damn life as their parents, their parents' parents, etc. etc. It's ridiculous. The cycle of closed-mindedness and fear is hurting our society. People don't care for the world. Either that or they are so inexperianced that they've built this fantasy, stereotypical world around themselves to fill in the gaps.
And what's feeding this? TV. I'm not dead against news stations, but isn't it true that people are satisfied with learning "what's going on in the world" in a TV, taking what's being fed to them by nearly staged performances? Along with news stations, people tend to only know about other countries, other people, other states for that matter, only by movies, cartoons, sitcoms, etc. Therefore, children along with adults haare learning about stereotypes, which is offending in my opinion.
I must admit, it's not technology that's cutting people off from the world. Quite the contrary, I believe. It's actually making it much easier. However, it does cut people off from experiancing the world. Looking back on these short paragraphs however, I realize that this is quite redundant. I'm not going to convince adults with this.
But I can convice my generation. Humans have a natural urge to learn, gather information, experiance. Pride, easy-money, and welfare sufficates this urge. Many teens these days don't want to learn (though we are getting better at it). Why? Because they're afraid of making mistakes. How screwed up is that? We're human, and as humans, we mess up. We don't want to mess up, but we do. Some people are smarter than others, but does that mean that all those other kids who don't care about learning in schools and believe they'll be happy digging ditches for the rest of their lives can never experiance life? There are lessons of life that you can't learn in a classroom. And anyone can learn them if they really care to.
I've moved recently to Argentina. I left my home, and so many people I care about. I moved once before, to italy, but I never had any connections with my previous home. I just...went with the flow, you know?
But this time I actually felt something. I did not try to distance myself from anyone or anything this time. I feel a loss, and I've cried about it. I feel human, not just someone who wants to go with the flow, someone whose emotions adapt instantly to new circumstances. I don't want to helplessly accept that I will never see these people again, to forget the memories so easily. I want to be dragged kicking and screaming away from the people I love. I want to fight circumstances tooth and nail, even if there is no hope of changing them. I want to wrestle out of my mother's grasp just to hug and kiss my love one last time.
You know what? I'm just going to let you, the reader, into my mind for a second. See what I see. See if what I see is something that pulls at you. 'Cause it sure as hell pulls at me.
I want to live.
I want to see the Northern Lights in the barren white wastelands of the Artic.
I want to see the fantasy-like spirals on the roofs in Russia and Moracco. Hear the roar of an open ocean, with no human life for hundreds of miles in any direction. I want to learn a new language. I want to write a song about love, life, and absolute morphine-filled happiness and fire. I want to feel the vibrations of the world's biggest cities, with millions of souls mingling with mine, knowing that we are all connected. Even if some of us never know it.
I want to live.
I want to feel my heart break at the sight of the lowest of human situations. I want to meet people, catch a glimpse of thier soul even if I only know how to say 'Hi', or even less, in their native tongue. I want to speed down a clear interstate with nothing but the top down and my voice mingling with my favorite artist. I want to get a henna tattoo in India, and a blessed rosary from Rome. I want to get a snake for a pet and name him Steve after the Crocodile Hunter--God Bless his soul XD.
I want to live.
I want to learn the intoxicating tango, to swordfight like the great fictional and real swashbucklers of the past. I want to shop in the colorful, vibrant markets in Dahli, Mexico City, and Paris. I want to eat exotic cuisine which names I can't pronounce. I want to climb mountains, sky-dive, bunjee-jump, risk my skin with no remorse. I want to have a Divine Experiance. I want to see things I'm not 'supposed' to see. I want to climb Mount Everest and yell my love's name to the Heavens.
I want to live.
I want to write a novel. I want to act in a major blockbuster. I want to see the glaringly whitewashed, blue-roofed houses of Greece. I want to settle down with my soul mate. I want to raise the best family on earth. I want to make a difference in the world. I want to die fufilled and happy.....and in something gloriously romantic, like an epic battle. I want to love. I want to live.
I will.
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