Remember What MattersRemember What Matters
When I'm asked about how I want to be remembered, I never have a definite answer. Trying to answer that question in three paragraphs will be tricky for me, so I've stepped back to look at my life as it is now. I figure this question has a lot to do with the way people perceive me, and I've gotten some clues over the years about that. I've been told a lot that I'm intimidating or hard to talk to by people I've only just met or friends who know me better than I do. I'm not sure why I give off this sort of vibe and maybe it's the thing that's made me a little shy, but I've recently been trying my best to be more outgoing lately. Between the person I seem to be and the person I want to be, I've always sort of struggled.
When I think about the life I want, I picture myself old and talking to a camera in some sort of interview about my life. I've gone through so many different parts of my would-be life in my mind that I could practically write a book about them. I'll ta
I remember having this dream about a greenhouse.
It would start out that I was lost in a dense forest and looking for something. I would be running without much idea of in what direction I was headed. All I can think about is finding whatever I've lost. Branches and fallen cones crunch underneath my feet. My ears are ringing, my head is pounding, and my legs are aching. It's almost as if I don't have control over them. I just keep running and running until suddenly, my legs no longer work. No matter how much I will myself to keep on running, my legs stay put. This is when the forest dissipates and I look up to see an abandoned greenhouse. Sunlight is pouring into the clearing where it stood and reflecting on the glass windows. Mesmerized, I just stand there, staring at it. All of the ringing in my ears has vanished by now and it seems like sound has evaporated. This isn't what I was looking for, this much I'm sure of. But what is this place, I wonder? I want to go closer to t
Polite Society Can :censor: itThe Disappearance of "Polite Society"
When people discuss reality T.V. shows, the majority of opinions include the phrases "They're fake" or "They're not actual reality". I would agree that they're all set-up, but I believe that some of the people on these shows actually act as crazy as they do on television at home. Assuming that the events on the screen are all fake, genuine ridiculousness of reality T.V. shows such as Big Brother, The Bachelor, or I Love New York would cause people to love the programs even more! Why? Because, in the American societyand others, I'm surepeople have forgotten where to draw the line when it comes to acceptable behavior. If these people didn't realize how silly they were acting and weren't being paid for it, the shows would be all the more entertaining. Of course, people have always had fun watching people make fools of themselves and jeering at them with a sense that they're better people for it. I'll admit that I've been guilty of it befor
The Ghost PianistThe Ghost Pianist
When I think of "the halls of Sexton" I think of the occasional mouse desperately trying to avoid being stamped by someone's Jordans. I think about the lack of proper lighting, the dingy-looking lockers that are all different sizes, the uneven floors, the odd picture tiles, the over-designed floors The people in the halls are usually either blocking the way or bumping into me and cursing at me for not watching where I'm going. And if someone does do the latter, they usually call me by something close to "white girl", as if that's my name. The majority of my feelings about the "halls" are connected with annoyance and the hope of better days to come.
And then I think about the halls when they are empty. Everything's the same, aside from the multitude of people who only somewhat want to make it to class on time. Just by removing that one aspect of the halls' identity, they become something completely different. It almost feels like the left-over pieces of a recentl