(no subject)
Second time talking to Mr. Rozell in three days. First for being late, then for a parking violation (both of which I possess multiple offenses for). I think he knows my name now. I always thought this development was reserved for the "bad kids". But what defines a bad kid, anyway? Maybe they're just frusterated. If so, then I definetly qualify.
The other day, I sat in the high school detention room for possibly the last time. As I observed at my surroundings- the "threatening" words scrawled on the board, the dead stillness of the room - I regarded them with a certain smugness. It became so humorous to me that I once dreaded this scene, and how terrible it once seemed. Is this really all? These people are desperate and truly powerless, and they no longer posess any of the authority that they once seemed to have to me.
Many important points in self-discovery seem to come to me during walks now. They are my new, most productive escape. Exploring this familiar path of my past reminded me of another part of me that I loved and is not lost. I still posess the vivacious, adventurous spirit that I had at twelve, and am able to be captivated and connect with nature. On a late afternoon walk the other day, I stopped to collect flowers and made a bouquet. The sun quickly set and the landscape came alive. There is an unparalelled beauty posessed by southern farmland, and it speaks volumes to me in silence. As I stood at the fence and gazed into the cow pastures bathed in dusk, I fell into hopeless reverie. There is a piece of me that will always remain here, in soft and beautiful Buckingham.
I also reached many other conclusions about myself. Recently, I have been talking to someone that I have heard much about indirectly, but have just made the effort to converse with. He makes me crazy, but he has guided me to remember an essential part of me that I had forgotten- an intense passion, and a sense of who I really am. My identity has been lost and skewed over the past few years, and I needed a reminder of my passionate, progressive nature. So if you are reading this, I quietly and anonymously congratulate you.
The other day, I sat in the high school detention room for possibly the last time. As I observed at my surroundings- the "threatening" words scrawled on the board, the dead stillness of the room - I regarded them with a certain smugness. It became so humorous to me that I once dreaded this scene, and how terrible it once seemed. Is this really all? These people are desperate and truly powerless, and they no longer posess any of the authority that they once seemed to have to me.
Many important points in self-discovery seem to come to me during walks now. They are my new, most productive escape. Exploring this familiar path of my past reminded me of another part of me that I loved and is not lost. I still posess the vivacious, adventurous spirit that I had at twelve, and am able to be captivated and connect with nature. On a late afternoon walk the other day, I stopped to collect flowers and made a bouquet. The sun quickly set and the landscape came alive. There is an unparalelled beauty posessed by southern farmland, and it speaks volumes to me in silence. As I stood at the fence and gazed into the cow pastures bathed in dusk, I fell into hopeless reverie. There is a piece of me that will always remain here, in soft and beautiful Buckingham.
I also reached many other conclusions about myself. Recently, I have been talking to someone that I have heard much about indirectly, but have just made the effort to converse with. He makes me crazy, but he has guided me to remember an essential part of me that I had forgotten- an intense passion, and a sense of who I really am. My identity has been lost and skewed over the past few years, and I needed a reminder of my passionate, progressive nature. So if you are reading this, I quietly and anonymously congratulate you.