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As a teenager, frustration is an everyday attraction. You go through the day, hoping the next word you hear or the next class you have won't piss you off. Friends give you frustrations. People you don't want to be friends with give you frustrations. Everything sucks. So why, as teenagers, are we constantly surprised with ourselves on how upset we get by the littlest things? Especially girls, we will cry about anything if our heads are in the right-or wrong-place. I would think that without at least one frustration a day, we would feel incomplete, pulled apart, just plain weird.
Happy Groundhog's Day! Probably my most favorite holiday ever, seriously. It's a tradition my dad and I have, and that's what makes it all so special. Since the first time I saw the movie with Bill Murray, I have loved the whole concept of Groundhog's Day, and the movie sparked a tradition. All day long we quote the movie, we make sure to watch it at least once, and have "Got You Babe"running through our heads. Most people don't understand or think it's absolutely ridiculous to like such an obscure holiday so much. It's so much more to me.
Everyday, I wish I could be somebody else. Is that weird? I mean, I like who I am sometimes, but I wish that I could be another person. That's why I like acting. I get permission to be someone else. I can have an audience who watches me to be someone else. I get to not be myself and that's something I love. Yea I'm ok, but everyone else is so much better. Other people can say what they feel...I can't. Why can't I just say what I want to say, do what I want to do? Yea, this sucks.
One tear can be a great determiner. It can determine love, loss, fear, hate, nerves and want. It can tear a relationship apart or bring it together stronger. It can be the thing that settles the dust or kicks it back up. When a tear begins to swell, I always wonder how the reaction will be when it falls. Will the person who it's for notice? Will they take it to heart or feel resentment? Will affection occur or simple disdain? A tear can determine right or wrong. It can decide who wins and who loses, or who just cries.
I miss my mountains so much. I miss the Rockies with all my heart. To go up a mountain and know that you made it on your own two feet, to know that you didn't need a horse, or a car, or a plane...it's a rush. To feel like you are on top of the world and everything below is smaller is a rush that is rare. To know that once you are down people will hope you made it all the way up and that that moment was your best. An unselfish place what I want in this world.
The shoes on my feet are bright orange. They are the brightest orange I have ever seen and I don't care. Why do I say this? Because other people care. Yes, they are ugly. Yes, they match a teacher's. But who cares? The days when my shoes become an excuse to moan are the days when I know that people simply have too much time. When the ingredients of my shoes are discussed, I sigh. Yes, you can eat them if you want. And yes, they are great for hikes...but to be honest, they are just shoes. Just orange shoes.
What is comfort? How is it defined? People give that word a bad name, as said in one of my favorite movies "Same Time Next Year-. Answering a question as being comfortable can give people an off perception of your own character. Answering with comfortable can either be a way to escape your real answer or to show that everything just fits. Who is the person that decides when something fits? How do you know when a person or a thing just fits? Do you hear a Ãƒâ€šÃ¢â‚¬Ëœclick' or does it just silently fall into place? When is it decided?
Touch. The word itself can bring a rush of emotion. Touch is probably the most powerful thing. It's real, it's complicated yet simple, and it can give someone life or take it away. People crave a touch to give them power or life or affection. They want to feel another person near them, to be as close as possible. Energy from another body is so powerful when transmitted through a hand or chest or lips. The surge of force that can be felt in a certain touch can last a person a lifetime. The very first touch is so strong.
In less than three days, I audition for my future. I am more terrified than I have been in quite awhile. Today, I put three, long, tedious years on one sheet of paper, isn't that frightening. This week, I have discovered feelings I didn't think I could have about another person. All-in-all, I would say that lately it has been a time of eye-opening confrontations and experiences. After this weekend, it could all be over. I either could know exactly where I am going or have absolutely no clue. I could know exactly how I feel or not at all.
I flew on a plane today, and it was terribly frightening. While taking off, the plane wobbled from side to side like a see-saw. When landing it skidded and creaked like a baseball player going in for home. The woman next to me was thirty weeks pregnant and twenty-four years of age. She told me that out of her friends, she was old to be having a baby, and that most of her friends' kids were six or seven, meaning they had children when they were MY age. That was an eye opener as well. Yes, the flight was quite frightening.
LA, la-la land, The Angels. That is today. I walked around with an old friend, taking in the liposuction, Louis Vitton bags and bleached hair. I myself am au natural and felt quite out of place. The shops filled with enough money to not only support but nicely clothe many third world countries. Is that odd? That what other people could gain as opposed to what the stores give to the Ãƒâ€šÃ¢â‚¬Ëœnormal' shopper is important. That I am in awe and feel a tinge of envy to those who can afford those large shopping bags, but I really don't care.
Interaction between mother and daughter can be quite confusing. One wants to pull away and the other wants to hold on. Those two roles are reversed quite sporadically as well. Neither women know what they want nor can accept that the other could be right. While one has the booming voice, the other can have the smart ass remark. Again, interchangeable. While no man will ever understand or be able to comprehend the complexities that make up a mother daughter bond, they will also never appreciate the intimate and undeniable connection. Something true like this that is impossible to duplicate.
Feet are so important. They take us everywhere we need to go. They take the most wear and tear than any other part of the body. They have one hundred plus pounds on top of them everyday. They are so strong they can carry it all around all the time. They get squished inside many different places. From wood to cotton to plastic, and they never complain. Amazing, I wish I had the strength of feet. I wish I could hold as much or take as much abuse. It's just so impressive how torn, ripped, and damaged they can be.
Happy Valentines Day! The holiday from Hallmark is upon us, do you feel special? This holiday sucks because not only does it give couples another excuse for being mushy-gushy, but it also shows those who don't have anyone that once again, we are alone. So we become even more depressed and just snack on Valentines candy until we feel to sugared-up to move. And that makes us even MORE depressed. I wonder how many suicides there are on Valentines Day alone... That would be an interesting statistic I would think. Isn't it sad when someone ends their life for another?
Do you ever just look up at the sky and wish you could be that far away? As far away as that cloud, or that one? As far away as that plane that's flying a little low or that star that's shining in the sky? I used to dream that I could fly. I would fly so high that I would shake in my sleep, thinking I was too high. Still to this day, I have the falling dream where I feel like I am falling through the sky. I think that is because I just want to fly away.
A broken heart can take you by surprise. You tell yourself that it couldn't happen to you, and then it does. You close yourself off to friendship, love, intimacy or anything for that matter. You make yourself completely protected, and then someone just busts in and ruins it. They take your muscle and smash it on the floor. Whether it is a friend, lover, potential, anything, it still stings. You ask yourself what can you do later to prevent it. You never can come up with an answer. You rack your brain. The only thing is to let it go...
Isn't amazing what can comfort you? Ice cream, chocolate, a warm blanket, a soft touch, affection, a smile, a hug, your mom, your moms food, dancing, singing, warm laundry, a teddy bear, a good nights sleep, a good movie, a great kiss, a good cry, macaroni and cheese, Thai noodles, a nice phone call, attention, a soft chair, girl talk, flowers, getting flowers, a good shower, cleanliness, body scrubs, baking, cake, cookies, baking cake, baking cookies, bubble bath, a massage, anything soft, friends, slippers, a robe, sleeping in something comfortable, sleeping in something sexy, sleeping, loving ...god, I'm a girl.
I wish I could be a rain drop and randomly fall from the sky and land with a splash. Then, I would spread out into a million little particles that could and probably would get blown or swept or moved into some direction. I could spread my whole self on a surface greater than I could know. Bigger than I would ever have imagined, bigger than anything I could have ever been told, bigger than life. I then wouldn't have choice. I wouldn't know what to do except to be pulled back up into the sky to just fall again.
Honesty, it's quite a fickle thing. It seems to only be used when necessary. When people think it is convenient or easy they use it. But when it is a situation that could be hard or hurtful, honesty isn't so easily used. Truth has been made too convenient to be kept. Not everyone keeps it or can handle it. It is no longer a standard or a constant. It isn't something that should be thrown around casually yet it is treated like an old T-shirt. Used when a comfort is needed but when it really comes down to it, unimportant.
Dancing is freedom. Spinning around with your arms at your sides, moving to a beat, even something choreographed. It's all freedom. It's movement, it's passion, it's anger, it's sadness, it's all your emotions expressed through a movement. It's everything that is inhibited forced out by a song, beat, or feeling. It's something you want to control but you can't, and that's the best part. It's unscripted and original. It's you, it's me, and it's everyone really and fully. It is something that can make us all equal and all different at the same time. It's the cheapest way to freedom.
Probably one of the ugliest, human emotions is regret. Regret can come in all forms: abuse, depression, motivation, anger, fear, resentment, etc. It seems that when someone has regret or feels regret towards a situation, they either do anything to get that regret to disappear or they dwell. Dwelling is by far the ugliest and most disdainful part of regret. Someone wallowing in their own mistake or worse: someone else's. It's ugly and is a waste of time. Now, when begins to think of all they can do to reverse or negate the situation, that can now become dangerous. Regret.
What is it about that thing you can't have? Why do you want it so bad? Why is it that when humans are told they can't do something, can't have something or just plain haven't earned it, they want that thing even more? The human race is a weird example of a specimen. When we want something and know we can have it, we don't care. We don't fight for it; we don't take pride in it, but when we can't have it, watch it! We are like beasts ravaging the carcass so o other beast can get to it.
Ok, so using this as my sort-of journal, I have to divulge my passion. I love acting, I love pretending like I am someone else. I think that is mainly because I don't like myself enough to want to stay myself. Is that sad? Is that pathetic? Or is it normal. A lot of people must not like themselves that much. With all the murder, rape, depression, self-mutilation, everything. It all seems as if we just want our time to end. That is why, I think, I love the stage. It's always there for you and it won't ever end.
Isn't strange that no matter how hard you try and how much you believe you won't, you always end up like your parents? I mean, I know that I find things in my speech, actions, and even style that are so similar to my mother...My father too! Oh my goodness, my father and I are too much alike, it's frightening! I wish we could put a filter on what our parents output and what we input. It's all just too convenient to know who you are going to end up like, I wish there was a little bit more mystery.
There are words to me that just irk me. Words like moist, tamper, hangnail, blister, chunk, slosh, stick, wrinkle and streak. There aren't that many, and I find that there are many more words that I love, like: champ, fuzzy, smooth, sweet, plush, panache, twist, scrunch, fold, skip, trot, canter, glide, massage, rub, hold, palm, soft, touch, caress, love, match, mesh, mold, liquid, solid. It's so odd how words can mean so many different things to so many different people. It's weird how a word to me can mean love while the same word to someone else can mean hate.
Simple, confusing, fabulous, treacherous, painful, wonderful, loved, hated, truth, lies, full, empty, pulsating, still, barbaric, civil, jumbled, straight, fixed, honest, penetrating, modest, lit, burnt out, flexible, rigid, black, white, gray, red, up, down, left, right, smooth, prickly, answered, mysterious, first, last, always, never, laugh, cry, cheer, sneer, please, no thank you, I love you, I hate you, all, nothing, mother, father, forever, never, sure, hell no, water, ice, fire, ash, closed, open, bright, dark, pleasant, dull, ready, hesitant. All of these words describe one thing: life. It is everything and nothing at the same time. Don't you just love it?
I am a teenager, and I still go to summer camp. Yes, laugh, point, gawk if you must but it won't change...I love my summer camp. It is called Cheley Colorado Camps in Estes Park, Colorado. It is the one place I can be myself and enjoy it. It's the only time I feel accepted completely and absolutely. It is my sanctuary, away from school, life, friends, parents, and all the parts of me I leave behind every year. It's my saving grace. It's my challenge. It's my savior. It's my everything and yet I can't take it with me.
"Slow down, you're moving to fast. You gotta make the moment last now. Kickin' down the cobblestone. Looking for fun and feeling groovy..."Yeah Simon & Garfunkel. It's songs like that which make you appreciate life and love and time. And the lyrics are so right. We move too fast way too often and soon we are all going to miss what's right in front of us. It's a shame though, you know? I mean I wish there was a pause or a slow-motion button for life. But like many song lyrics say, life is not something you can slow.
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