Philosophical Rantings of a Fifteen Year Old Girl
I've been thinking about a lot of things lately...
About time...I was thinking to myself how I should start saving up so I could go visit my friends out in Detroit, and then I remembered that I have to start saving up to go to Japan...cos I'm going next August...In a year...time is going so fast; I haven't even turned 16 yet and I already feel like I have to plan the rest of my high school career. And then there's the thought of, what happens after school? What do I do then? The obvious answer is get a job and a house and go to college, but school has been such a constant in our lives. We go to school for nine months, then we have a break and the next fall it starts up again. What happens when we can't go back in Autumn? Everyone complains about how much school sucks and how they can't wait to graduate, but...then we have to be on our own...in the real world.Where you don't just get sent down to Room 105 for misbehaving, where you have to work hard to pay for your next meal and not just a passing grade, and where "not making the team" isn't just a try-again-next-year thing, it means you may have to survive on ramen and water for a few weeks.
About age...I feel so young lately, I'm only fifteen. I can't do much. It's like my age defines me. I'm a teenager, right? So I'm supposed to do what teenagers do. I'm supposed to be melodramatic, angsty, ignorant, and all these other stereotypes that the world won't let me forget. I try to give input to a discussion on status quo(sp?) and everyone just laughs and says, "when you're older you'll understand." Well maybe someone should try and explain it to me, cos I am older. I've been older for years now, and I'm going to keep getting older. I don't have experience, that's true. But how can we ever gain experience if we're never even given a chance? Maybe age shouldn't define who we are; maybe we should.
About stereotypes...last year I wore all black, dyed my hair unnatural colors...and was judged for that. The year before I wore bright colors, my hair in a high ponytail...and was judged for that too. If I tell someone my favorite musician is Frank Sinatra, does that somehow translate into "I'm a complete geek." or if I say I really like...Linkin Park, does that mean I'm depressed and angsty? Or if I say I like Fifty Cent, am I a poseur, a wigger? How many people can honestly say that they don't judge a person on physical traits when they first meet them? I can't. I won't pretend I don't, either. If I see someone who's wearing a super short skirt and a tight t-shirt, I'm most likely going to put her in some category in my head. I think the trick is to get past that, get to know them, and don't hold on to those original impressions. I used to think that I could express myself better when wearing black...but in truth, maybe all I wanted was to fit in somewhere. As much as we strive to rid ourselves of stereotypes, don't we also want to be labeled? Maybe not in the way we think; like, "oh, she's really funny." "He's a sweet kid." "They're really fun to hang out with." They tie us down to something; give us some kind of foundation to stand on. Show us that we belong...somewhere. And then we try to break free, to show that we're not all about fun, we have a serious side too, see? But do people acknowledge that anymore? Does it matter? You do, after all, like Led Zepplin. So I guess you must be cool...right?
About friends...what is a friend anyways? Ah, that sounds a little borderline philosophically trite. But just thinking about it...I've only had a few people who I felt I could really open up to...and even then I've had to be careful of what I said...but maybe that's what we're supposed to do? What would happen if we trusted ourselves and others a little more...if we peeled off the layers of paint that we'd kept ourselves hidden in and take our brush and paint them a picture of our true selves. Of our true thoughts on things. Would we all be cast away, broken canvases left alone? Or would we be re-examined, taken off the display case to have them decide whether we were still worthy of being seen. Could it be possible that when we've finally been stripped of our cover, we would be able to see that we were never really alone; that every other person who had seemed so real was really just a painted doll, too afraid to reveal the image that was buried under all those layers of paint. Maybe that's what friendship is. Revealing yourself, and in the awe of it all, helping others out of their cocoon and loving them for it.
But what do I know...after all, I'm just a kid...right?
About time...I was thinking to myself how I should start saving up so I could go visit my friends out in Detroit, and then I remembered that I have to start saving up to go to Japan...cos I'm going next August...In a year...time is going so fast; I haven't even turned 16 yet and I already feel like I have to plan the rest of my high school career. And then there's the thought of, what happens after school? What do I do then? The obvious answer is get a job and a house and go to college, but school has been such a constant in our lives. We go to school for nine months, then we have a break and the next fall it starts up again. What happens when we can't go back in Autumn? Everyone complains about how much school sucks and how they can't wait to graduate, but...then we have to be on our own...in the real world.Where you don't just get sent down to Room 105 for misbehaving, where you have to work hard to pay for your next meal and not just a passing grade, and where "not making the team" isn't just a try-again-next-year thing, it means you may have to survive on ramen and water for a few weeks.
About age...I feel so young lately, I'm only fifteen. I can't do much. It's like my age defines me. I'm a teenager, right? So I'm supposed to do what teenagers do. I'm supposed to be melodramatic, angsty, ignorant, and all these other stereotypes that the world won't let me forget. I try to give input to a discussion on status quo(sp?) and everyone just laughs and says, "when you're older you'll understand." Well maybe someone should try and explain it to me, cos I am older. I've been older for years now, and I'm going to keep getting older. I don't have experience, that's true. But how can we ever gain experience if we're never even given a chance? Maybe age shouldn't define who we are; maybe we should.
About stereotypes...last year I wore all black, dyed my hair unnatural colors...and was judged for that. The year before I wore bright colors, my hair in a high ponytail...and was judged for that too. If I tell someone my favorite musician is Frank Sinatra, does that somehow translate into "I'm a complete geek." or if I say I really like...Linkin Park, does that mean I'm depressed and angsty? Or if I say I like Fifty Cent, am I a poseur, a wigger? How many people can honestly say that they don't judge a person on physical traits when they first meet them? I can't. I won't pretend I don't, either. If I see someone who's wearing a super short skirt and a tight t-shirt, I'm most likely going to put her in some category in my head. I think the trick is to get past that, get to know them, and don't hold on to those original impressions. I used to think that I could express myself better when wearing black...but in truth, maybe all I wanted was to fit in somewhere. As much as we strive to rid ourselves of stereotypes, don't we also want to be labeled? Maybe not in the way we think; like, "oh, she's really funny." "He's a sweet kid." "They're really fun to hang out with." They tie us down to something; give us some kind of foundation to stand on. Show us that we belong...somewhere. And then we try to break free, to show that we're not all about fun, we have a serious side too, see? But do people acknowledge that anymore? Does it matter? You do, after all, like Led Zepplin. So I guess you must be cool...right?
About friends...what is a friend anyways? Ah, that sounds a little borderline philosophically trite. But just thinking about it...I've only had a few people who I felt I could really open up to...and even then I've had to be careful of what I said...but maybe that's what we're supposed to do? What would happen if we trusted ourselves and others a little more...if we peeled off the layers of paint that we'd kept ourselves hidden in and take our brush and paint them a picture of our true selves. Of our true thoughts on things. Would we all be cast away, broken canvases left alone? Or would we be re-examined, taken off the display case to have them decide whether we were still worthy of being seen. Could it be possible that when we've finally been stripped of our cover, we would be able to see that we were never really alone; that every other person who had seemed so real was really just a painted doll, too afraid to reveal the image that was buried under all those layers of paint. Maybe that's what friendship is. Revealing yourself, and in the awe of it all, helping others out of their cocoon and loving them for it.
But what do I know...after all, I'm just a kid...right?