Well, I give up. I can stay up as late as I please when I actually have someone to hang out with or someone to talk to. But when I'm all by my lonesome? It just seems pointless. Maybe companionship is more important than I think it is or MAYBE it's just that occupying my time is the vital thing. Regardless, I'm going to go make a YouTube video, clean my room, or write thank-you notes. Thanks for listening to my utterly pointless rant!
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Satisfaction
What's missing from my life?
More to the point, why is it that, at the end of the day, I spend more nights feeling unsatisfied with my life than I do satisfied?
Maybe I need therapy.
More to the point, why is it that, at the end of the day, I spend more nights feeling unsatisfied with my life than I do satisfied?
Maybe I need therapy.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Rebellion
This is insane.
I'm going to live my life, from this point forward, as if I know where I'm going to school, because I do know. It's dumb for me not to get excited, because I'm done feeling sorry over this situation! I need to know, so I'm knowing.
Screw those of you that try to tell me the "reasonable" option in your opinion. Screw those of you that can't fucking be happy for me because you're too busy trying to tear me down. And screw those of you that think you could do better in my shoes.
I'm done. So over this.
Say hello to a student in the University of California- Berkeley class of 2016.
I'm going to live my life, from this point forward, as if I know where I'm going to school, because I do know. It's dumb for me not to get excited, because I'm done feeling sorry over this situation! I need to know, so I'm knowing.
Screw those of you that try to tell me the "reasonable" option in your opinion. Screw those of you that can't fucking be happy for me because you're too busy trying to tear me down. And screw those of you that think you could do better in my shoes.
I'm done. So over this.
Say hello to a student in the University of California- Berkeley class of 2016.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
The Unknown
I think that I've gotten to the point where I gain comfort from the unknown.
Now, this is never a forced state, as fear of the unknown is the basis for many other fears, such as the fear of change or the fear of the dark. Many people, including myself, hate not knowing things. Where they're going, what the outcome of a given situation will be, whether or not the decision they're making will gain them lasting happiness. However, it has become my custom not to know things. And as of late, that has become more and more true.
The example I'm so heavily alluding to is the choice of college. I was supposed to face this choice twenty three days ago, and decide by May 1st. I was supposed to know by now where I will be spending the next four years of my life. That isn't the case, and now I'm stuck. I'm in the process of registering for two separate universities, and stand no closer to making a decision than I did a month ago.
I never got the opportunity to place my name under a University on the school map of future plans, I never got to joyously burst in to my counselor's office and tell her the news, I never got to anxiously buy spirit wear from my new destination. I never got the cake with the school logo on it, never got the banner, the bumper sticker, the folder, the shirt. I still haven't re-decorated my room, or changed my Facebook Education status, or received any presents indicating where I'll be next year. I haven't invested in a frequent traveling pass of sorts, haven't figured out when I'm moving in, haven't bought tickets home for the holidays. I haven't bought my parents "Proud Parent of a _________ Student" things, nor have I gotten the opportunity to place my destination on my Graduation announcements.
I'm not excited for this choice anymore, and I know that I should be. This is the most exciting time of my entire life thus far, and I should be nothing but anticipatory of the life that I'm about to begin. I'm going to grow so much from the time I leave for school in the fall to the time I graduate that school, and there's no room to be anything but elated. I'm getting ready to leave the little town in the Midwest, where I'm from, and really grow to be someone. I should be so excited.
I have nothing anymore. Up until two days ago, I had my high school enrollment. Now, all I have is a piece of paper sitting in the backseat of my car, under my cap and gown, that has my name and some signatures. I have a big question mark, and that didn't hit me until I didn't have anything to cling to anymore.
I tried, so hard, for this to be exciting. I know what I want, and I was willing to fight for it. However, after many unsuccessful attempts to persuade those in my life, I've began to give up. I'm not changing my mind, but I am beginning to change my approach. After all, the entirety of my life thus far has been comprised of actions and choices dictated to me by my parents and peers, so why start changing that fact now? I'm nothing but a product of my relationships, and I'm ashamed as hell to admit that.
But look at it from my perspective. I'm such a good child: 4.32 GPA, 35 ACT, musical talent, good relationships with those around me, hundreds of volunteer hours, adheres to curfew. The fact that this desire to follow my dreams is considered an act of a new-found rebellious streak (began by choosing a prom dress that my mother didn't 100% approve of, mind you) is utterly ridiculous. I didn't get a tattoo yet (the one thing I promised myself I would do the second I turned eighteen) because my parents prefer I don't. I don't drink, or smoke, or do drugs, or get detentions. I'm a great kid, a kid that any parent should be proud and supportive of.
It's so easy for those around me to look at my life and say one of a few things. 1. Follow YOUR dreams, not hers. 2. She's just worried about losing you. 3. She's probably right. But how many of those people telling me that have walked in my shoes, fought my battles, or dealt with everything that I have? Not one. And that's not to say that minimizes their opinions at all, but it does put things in perspective. I realize that this is my decision, and no one else has to make it for me. I know that I'm the one that will have to deal with these repercussions for the next four years, no one else.
I was watching tonight's graduation episode of 'Glee', and I realized how much I yearned for that in my life. One of the characters, Santana, got a scholarship to a university for the fall, but wants to go to New York to follow her dreams. When her mom presents her with a check for the money that she would have used on her education if Santana hadn't gotten the scholarship, Santana tells her mom that she doesn't want to go to college, she wants to go to New York. Her mom hands her the money anyways, and tells her to use it to make her dreams of stardom happen. Another of the characters, Rachel, was going to marry her boyfriend and delay her dreams of stardom for a year in order to help her boyfriend and gay best friend make theirs come true. Her boyfriend instead chooses to enlist in the military (somewhere she can't follow him), buys her a train ticket, and forcefully puts her on the train to New York, her dream school, and away from himself, just because he loves her so much and believes in her so much.
I want Rachel's boyfriend or Santana's mom. More specifically, I'd like both, but beggars can't be choosers. In any case, all I want, all I've ever wanted through this, is for her to support me. I want her to tell me that she thinks that I can do this, that she'll support me no matter what, and that she believes in me. I want her to want me to be happy, and to recognize that following my own path is essential to me. I want her to understand that this is what I need, what I require, what I yearn for. But she can't do any of that.
Coming back to my original point, I've gained a sort of comfort from cultivating multiple options. Hey, I may not be able to fully commit to MY dream school, but at least it's in the running. At least I have a backup plan if it doesn't fall through. At least I have a cop-out if I decide that I really don't want to move 2100 miles West. At least I'll be somewhere. At least I don't have to deal with the finality of that decision yet, and I have some wiggle room. If I don't know now, that's okay, because I've never been one to stand up for what I want and to make rash decisions. I've never been the decisive one.
But now what? If all I want more than anything in the world is to know, but I've grown so attached to not making the final decision, what's going to happen when I do? Will it be a relief?
I guess I'll never know how all of this is traditionally supposed to feel. I won't know the excitement of filling out my housing contract, because that experience for me was in the haze of indecision. Same with choosing classes, registering for orientation, and beginning to meet students on Facebook groups for the schools. I won't know the original enthusiasm for beginning the registration process at the school of my choice, because I didn't make a choice by the time I began the process. And that's sad to me, and I feel that I missed out on something in this process.
I'm developing a rather strange bond with the unknown.
Now, this is never a forced state, as fear of the unknown is the basis for many other fears, such as the fear of change or the fear of the dark. Many people, including myself, hate not knowing things. Where they're going, what the outcome of a given situation will be, whether or not the decision they're making will gain them lasting happiness. However, it has become my custom not to know things. And as of late, that has become more and more true.
The example I'm so heavily alluding to is the choice of college. I was supposed to face this choice twenty three days ago, and decide by May 1st. I was supposed to know by now where I will be spending the next four years of my life. That isn't the case, and now I'm stuck. I'm in the process of registering for two separate universities, and stand no closer to making a decision than I did a month ago.
I never got the opportunity to place my name under a University on the school map of future plans, I never got to joyously burst in to my counselor's office and tell her the news, I never got to anxiously buy spirit wear from my new destination. I never got the cake with the school logo on it, never got the banner, the bumper sticker, the folder, the shirt. I still haven't re-decorated my room, or changed my Facebook Education status, or received any presents indicating where I'll be next year. I haven't invested in a frequent traveling pass of sorts, haven't figured out when I'm moving in, haven't bought tickets home for the holidays. I haven't bought my parents "Proud Parent of a _________ Student" things, nor have I gotten the opportunity to place my destination on my Graduation announcements.
I'm not excited for this choice anymore, and I know that I should be. This is the most exciting time of my entire life thus far, and I should be nothing but anticipatory of the life that I'm about to begin. I'm going to grow so much from the time I leave for school in the fall to the time I graduate that school, and there's no room to be anything but elated. I'm getting ready to leave the little town in the Midwest, where I'm from, and really grow to be someone. I should be so excited.
I have nothing anymore. Up until two days ago, I had my high school enrollment. Now, all I have is a piece of paper sitting in the backseat of my car, under my cap and gown, that has my name and some signatures. I have a big question mark, and that didn't hit me until I didn't have anything to cling to anymore.
I tried, so hard, for this to be exciting. I know what I want, and I was willing to fight for it. However, after many unsuccessful attempts to persuade those in my life, I've began to give up. I'm not changing my mind, but I am beginning to change my approach. After all, the entirety of my life thus far has been comprised of actions and choices dictated to me by my parents and peers, so why start changing that fact now? I'm nothing but a product of my relationships, and I'm ashamed as hell to admit that.
But look at it from my perspective. I'm such a good child: 4.32 GPA, 35 ACT, musical talent, good relationships with those around me, hundreds of volunteer hours, adheres to curfew. The fact that this desire to follow my dreams is considered an act of a new-found rebellious streak (began by choosing a prom dress that my mother didn't 100% approve of, mind you) is utterly ridiculous. I didn't get a tattoo yet (the one thing I promised myself I would do the second I turned eighteen) because my parents prefer I don't. I don't drink, or smoke, or do drugs, or get detentions. I'm a great kid, a kid that any parent should be proud and supportive of.
It's so easy for those around me to look at my life and say one of a few things. 1. Follow YOUR dreams, not hers. 2. She's just worried about losing you. 3. She's probably right. But how many of those people telling me that have walked in my shoes, fought my battles, or dealt with everything that I have? Not one. And that's not to say that minimizes their opinions at all, but it does put things in perspective. I realize that this is my decision, and no one else has to make it for me. I know that I'm the one that will have to deal with these repercussions for the next four years, no one else.
I was watching tonight's graduation episode of 'Glee', and I realized how much I yearned for that in my life. One of the characters, Santana, got a scholarship to a university for the fall, but wants to go to New York to follow her dreams. When her mom presents her with a check for the money that she would have used on her education if Santana hadn't gotten the scholarship, Santana tells her mom that she doesn't want to go to college, she wants to go to New York. Her mom hands her the money anyways, and tells her to use it to make her dreams of stardom happen. Another of the characters, Rachel, was going to marry her boyfriend and delay her dreams of stardom for a year in order to help her boyfriend and gay best friend make theirs come true. Her boyfriend instead chooses to enlist in the military (somewhere she can't follow him), buys her a train ticket, and forcefully puts her on the train to New York, her dream school, and away from himself, just because he loves her so much and believes in her so much.
I want Rachel's boyfriend or Santana's mom. More specifically, I'd like both, but beggars can't be choosers. In any case, all I want, all I've ever wanted through this, is for her to support me. I want her to tell me that she thinks that I can do this, that she'll support me no matter what, and that she believes in me. I want her to want me to be happy, and to recognize that following my own path is essential to me. I want her to understand that this is what I need, what I require, what I yearn for. But she can't do any of that.
Coming back to my original point, I've gained a sort of comfort from cultivating multiple options. Hey, I may not be able to fully commit to MY dream school, but at least it's in the running. At least I have a backup plan if it doesn't fall through. At least I have a cop-out if I decide that I really don't want to move 2100 miles West. At least I'll be somewhere. At least I don't have to deal with the finality of that decision yet, and I have some wiggle room. If I don't know now, that's okay, because I've never been one to stand up for what I want and to make rash decisions. I've never been the decisive one.
But now what? If all I want more than anything in the world is to know, but I've grown so attached to not making the final decision, what's going to happen when I do? Will it be a relief?
I guess I'll never know how all of this is traditionally supposed to feel. I won't know the excitement of filling out my housing contract, because that experience for me was in the haze of indecision. Same with choosing classes, registering for orientation, and beginning to meet students on Facebook groups for the schools. I won't know the original enthusiasm for beginning the registration process at the school of my choice, because I didn't make a choice by the time I began the process. And that's sad to me, and I feel that I missed out on something in this process.
I'm developing a rather strange bond with the unknown.
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