(no subject)
I really don't want to do econ homework, so I will just kill some time by updating my livejournal. It's been awhile since I've had a real update. Since November, I believe. Last year. Funny how time flies. Or not really, because time doesn't really fly. But anyway.
Sometimes I don't think I will ever have everything I want in life. Call me selfish, call me greedy -- you're probably right. Sometimes I'm afraid that I won't amount to anything. There's kind of this fear welling up inside of me, and the more it seems to weigh the emptier I feel. I'm not exactly sure what needs to be done but I'm willing to do it. I know what my flaws are but I'm not entirely sure what my gifts are. I suppose on one hand, this could be a good thing. Trying to erase my flaws will make me work harder. But not knowing where my talent lies is tough too. I'm not sure what I want to do with my life, and I'm not sure what I can do. I don't really excel at science, I don't really excel at writing, I don't really excel at math, and I certainly don't excel at AP Government. There goes my political career.
I suppose I've realized that my life is going to finally be kicked out of trial run and I'd just like to feel exceptionally capable at something. The choices I'm making now have such solid consequences and these consequences more or less define my life.
Something Andrew said a couple days ago really rubbed me the wrong way. He said something along the lines of wanting to do and learn everything he could now for the future. Maybe I misinterpreted or misread or misremembered, I apologize if I did, but this made my fingers stop in their tracks. But of course, instead of taking it in, I answered with what I suppose any second semester senior would say -- "but you're a second semester senior!" I wasn't too proud of that answer. Seems like a completely trivial answer to a completely trivial statement made in a completely trivial conversation, but it made me think.
Made me think that instead of letting myself go, I should toughen up. I remember in sophomore year, I toughened up. I'm not sure when I started slipping, but I think things have spun out of control, and I've turned a blind eye to it.
I think a couple of years ago, I began looking for friendships with substance. It's not true what they say. It's not necessarily quality over quantity. I sound like an ass saying this, but I would rather have ten quality friends than one super-quality friend. What if my one super-quality friend died...then what would I do? But let's not get morbid. I think through these past few years of searching for friendships of substance, I've let myself turn into someone I would never have befriended. Yes, I've remained steadfast and loyal to a few, but to very few. But I've also hurt people and made terrible mistakes that I know I could never take back. It's a good thing that I have forgiving friends. I like to think that I've put the nasty part of me behind, and I think for the most part, I have. It was a slap in the face for me to wake up. It's certainly not a good thing that I made those mistakes, but I think through those mistakes I've learned who will be there to keep my secrets and guide my falls to better landings. I realized you can't trust just anyone (as ideal as that sounds), and that certain people are just made to be together. And my friends, my true friends are the most incredible people I could have in my life. People I would trust with my life. People I could go for years without seeing and pick up where we left off, not missing a single beat because the rhythm is within us. That's solid. On the other hand, through mine and other's blunders, I've seen who I can't trust. There are those who say that you can trust them no matter what, but they seem to forget that the "no matter what" means...no matter what. I have a big mouth, I admit it. But I keep the secrets I deem worthy of keeping secrets forever, and forgive me for my pretentiousness, but I think myself a good judge of secrets. Vindictive actions are frightening weapons.
I don't like to associate myself with "groups," but I must admit that I do have my two "groups" of friends. After you guys read this (though I doubt many of you will), you will know who I am talking about. First, there is the group of friends that I bare my soul to -- they are the ones I confide in and seek advice from. I must say I spend probably 2039420572052 hours with them a week, and there aren't even that many hours in a week. My second group of friends I hardly confide anything to. But every time we are together, all of us, together, we seem to never stop talking, singing, laughing. I don't know these girls very well, but we seem to have an understanding, that although we may not spend very much time together at all, we will somehow always find some time for each other. I don't prefer one over the other, because each group has its endless supply of good. I am extremely thankful for both.
Sometimes I start to write in this "journal," but I stop after a few lines. I'm not sure why because there are so many things I want to write down and look back upon. Other times, very few times, like today, I can't stop writing. I have my 99 cent composition book sitting on my printer table, and I often have a tickling to write in it. But then, a mixture of laziness, wariness, and doubt creeps in, and I change my mind. Lazy to pull it out, find a pen, and write in it. Wary that someone will find it and read my thoughts. Doubt about what to write. My life right now is mediocre at best. Perhaps in a couple months when some of those "consequences" of my actions start landing in my mailbox, I'll find a stronger urge to keep a written journal. But probably not.
Farewell friends, see you soon. :)
Sometimes I don't think I will ever have everything I want in life. Call me selfish, call me greedy -- you're probably right. Sometimes I'm afraid that I won't amount to anything. There's kind of this fear welling up inside of me, and the more it seems to weigh the emptier I feel. I'm not exactly sure what needs to be done but I'm willing to do it. I know what my flaws are but I'm not entirely sure what my gifts are. I suppose on one hand, this could be a good thing. Trying to erase my flaws will make me work harder. But not knowing where my talent lies is tough too. I'm not sure what I want to do with my life, and I'm not sure what I can do. I don't really excel at science, I don't really excel at writing, I don't really excel at math, and I certainly don't excel at AP Government. There goes my political career.
I suppose I've realized that my life is going to finally be kicked out of trial run and I'd just like to feel exceptionally capable at something. The choices I'm making now have such solid consequences and these consequences more or less define my life.
Something Andrew said a couple days ago really rubbed me the wrong way. He said something along the lines of wanting to do and learn everything he could now for the future. Maybe I misinterpreted or misread or misremembered, I apologize if I did, but this made my fingers stop in their tracks. But of course, instead of taking it in, I answered with what I suppose any second semester senior would say -- "but you're a second semester senior!" I wasn't too proud of that answer. Seems like a completely trivial answer to a completely trivial statement made in a completely trivial conversation, but it made me think.
Made me think that instead of letting myself go, I should toughen up. I remember in sophomore year, I toughened up. I'm not sure when I started slipping, but I think things have spun out of control, and I've turned a blind eye to it.
I think a couple of years ago, I began looking for friendships with substance. It's not true what they say. It's not necessarily quality over quantity. I sound like an ass saying this, but I would rather have ten quality friends than one super-quality friend. What if my one super-quality friend died...then what would I do? But let's not get morbid. I think through these past few years of searching for friendships of substance, I've let myself turn into someone I would never have befriended. Yes, I've remained steadfast and loyal to a few, but to very few. But I've also hurt people and made terrible mistakes that I know I could never take back. It's a good thing that I have forgiving friends. I like to think that I've put the nasty part of me behind, and I think for the most part, I have. It was a slap in the face for me to wake up. It's certainly not a good thing that I made those mistakes, but I think through those mistakes I've learned who will be there to keep my secrets and guide my falls to better landings. I realized you can't trust just anyone (as ideal as that sounds), and that certain people are just made to be together. And my friends, my true friends are the most incredible people I could have in my life. People I would trust with my life. People I could go for years without seeing and pick up where we left off, not missing a single beat because the rhythm is within us. That's solid. On the other hand, through mine and other's blunders, I've seen who I can't trust. There are those who say that you can trust them no matter what, but they seem to forget that the "no matter what" means...no matter what. I have a big mouth, I admit it. But I keep the secrets I deem worthy of keeping secrets forever, and forgive me for my pretentiousness, but I think myself a good judge of secrets. Vindictive actions are frightening weapons.
I don't like to associate myself with "groups," but I must admit that I do have my two "groups" of friends. After you guys read this (though I doubt many of you will), you will know who I am talking about. First, there is the group of friends that I bare my soul to -- they are the ones I confide in and seek advice from. I must say I spend probably 2039420572052 hours with them a week, and there aren't even that many hours in a week. My second group of friends I hardly confide anything to. But every time we are together, all of us, together, we seem to never stop talking, singing, laughing. I don't know these girls very well, but we seem to have an understanding, that although we may not spend very much time together at all, we will somehow always find some time for each other. I don't prefer one over the other, because each group has its endless supply of good. I am extremely thankful for both.
Sometimes I start to write in this "journal," but I stop after a few lines. I'm not sure why because there are so many things I want to write down and look back upon. Other times, very few times, like today, I can't stop writing. I have my 99 cent composition book sitting on my printer table, and I often have a tickling to write in it. But then, a mixture of laziness, wariness, and doubt creeps in, and I change my mind. Lazy to pull it out, find a pen, and write in it. Wary that someone will find it and read my thoughts. Doubt about what to write. My life right now is mediocre at best. Perhaps in a couple months when some of those "consequences" of my actions start landing in my mailbox, I'll find a stronger urge to keep a written journal. But probably not.
Farewell friends, see you soon. :)