WOW. It’s been way too long since I’ve posted on here (blame tumblr). I’m finally glad that I do have something worth posting, though this time. Not like I haven’t posted anything unworthy of posting, but this one, dear readers, is going to get rather deep. So, without further ado, press on!
I’ve become entrapped by my own ignorance. Maybe that’s too strong of a word, but honestly, it’s how I feel. I used to be attentive to the world. Watching the news, browsing CNN, even going as far as to reading the newspaper- all of it was practically a habit. So, I found myself sitting awake at 2 am about a month ago, thinking, “What happened?”. Not only did I stop caring about the world and all the crazy things that happens in it, but I just stopped myself completely. I wouldn’t say I was being “Fake”, but I wasn’t allowing myself to progress in all areas that a person should want or be encouraged in. I had reached this point of unconscious behavior, often labeled as depression, in which I would repress everything and head on as if it’s all okay.
But it’s not.
And that’s one of the things I’ve been struggling to accept. Where my mother would turn to God and use excuses and misconceptions in his name, I would not. I still have yet to accept the concept of, not God, but the people he’s created. Humanity to me is, in an optimistic view, the borderland between true evil and good. It’s a blend, and what we do or say in the short span of life we’ve been granted..well, that’s what leads us to whatever awaits after death. Oh, look, it’s a topic I wanted to brush upon- not get into it like this. Bringing back the whole “depression” thing, no worries, I am not depressed. I get depressed sometimes, but who doesn’t? I just found myself to be between that depressed and repress-everything state, all unconsciously. And that scared me the most; I didn’t even realize it. How is this related to humanity?
Humanity has 75% to do with it. I think after all those books and news filled my head I began to question why anything was made. Why does anything or anyone still have the will to go on? Who would want to? Let’s all be honest and admit my generation isn’t the most conservative, which isn’t terribly bad or good. With everything changing it’s natural that society would too- but has it been changing for the better or worse lately? I used to think that that the barbaric ages, the crueler torture devices and injustices in the world had, at least, been remotely controlled (I mean no offence or disrespect to those who experience otherwise). America is a great country with many faults- that much I can say- but it’s becoming clearer that there is no true country that can be “good” without failure in some areas. Back to the 75%, well, I’m stressed about what requirements that I feel (almost) obligated to fulfill. The whole peer pressure or societal pressure kicks in more often than I like to admit.
Too depressing and such a Debby-downer, right? Have no fear. I was going to develop this further and actually make it all connect to my ignorance- which by the way had a lot to do with the whole unconscious depression thing- but let’s end it here. All I can say is that I’m struggling to become better, not because of society anymore, but I want to. With the whole world changing, it’s not satisfactory to pretend like everything’s okay anymore. I don’t want to be stuck like this forever and I’ve been deprived of valuable knowledge. I want change. There. The entire point of this long post. I want change. So, how am I going to get it?
No clue. But keep reading and maybe you’ll notice it before I realize it’s been happening all along. Maybe you already have or maybe it’s just that I haven’t. Just bear with me, alright?
Alright, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty truth. Yes, I know, it’s been eight days since I’ve posted something. I’m slacking on this whole blog. I can accept this. Strike one against Misu! You’ve got me now readers. So, I’m going to briefly give you all an update on why I’m slacking (excuses? what? No, psshhhh, never):
1) Homework: So much homework. I’m not talking about three or four pages of math; I mean 2-3 projects assigned at the same time and then some pages of math plus a script to memorize. Talk about a nosebleed.
2) Clubs: Key Club, Art Club, Interact, Newspaper, Debate (which I’ve officially dropped), Film Club (which I’m thinking of dropping), and then outside gang activities-J.K on that one. In all seriousness, outside school clubs.
3) Boyfriend: I haven’t seen him in a while because of our schedules, so, this is just a complaint rather than an “update” (excuse? pssh, no)
4) Babysitting: So. Many. Kids. All of them are my siblings, yay. And by babysitting I mean checking their homework, changing diapers, making dinners, breakfasts, lunches, etc.
Last but not least:
5) Creating a Club: This is the big whopper here. Let me go into detail of how much time I’ve invested in creating this club.
At school, you can create clubs as long as it’s approved by whomever it was- the principal? club manager? both of them?- and then continue to find a sponsor (usually a teacher). I didn’t do any of this, my partner (co-founder) did. And then, you know, planning. How long the planning for this club was is insane. We first met up about it in October. And that first meeting was planned in September. So far, a two month time span has been established.
So, after all our planning was done (location, detail, flyers, texting back and forth about the date, and then some other minor details) we were ready to put everything in action. Then we find out, oh, yeah, the location is going to be unknown for a while because the librarians are out (creative writing club + library= perfect), okay, not bad, right? WRONG.
We needed the location because the interest meeting was scheduled for the following week; but now it’s not because it’ll be too short of a notice for students. Now, after all this planning, and weeks of my own excitement I must wait for this week to pass by. Boo.
On a deeper note, the whole ordeal of creating a club has been tedious. But….It’s got me really thinking. Before I wasn’t all for this club, I didn’t want to make it, I just wanted to be in it. However, since, at that time, no one seemed to be making one, I took it upon myself to make one. Despite me being in a class already, I wanted to go beyond the border of prompts and guidelines and rules and given topics. I just wanted to be able to freely write, and it’s hard to do that when you have a busy home life as well as during school; so why not make it happen in school (we have a sort of free period, not study hall, but a mandatory one) when I wouldn’t be doing much?
So, there you go. This whole ordeal of creating a club is fun, hard-work, but most importantly: it made me realize that I really have a passion for writing, and I want to make a career out of it. *best wishes for Misu on her career planning/choice*
End of my update. Keep posted readers, bloggers, and passionate writers alike!
It doesn’t matter who you are, what you do, or where you’re from: life is like one big bin of trash. Crumpled up masses of paper. If I were to have some sort of group to class life, then it’d be exactly that. You may be thinking, “What? Trash? She’s saying life is trash!?”. Be assured, it’s not quite what I meant.
Nothing says “I messed up” or “useless” more than a tossed paper with writing on it. Maybe its writing is all crossed out, a phony number written, or some useless receipt for a (in my opinion, way over priced) $5.60 Starbucks Latte. Either way, can you see the connection? Dreams, futures, wishes, and failures can all be classified as a crumpled up paper. What we don’t need, or want, or simply put, can’t achieve- all of it-crumpled pieces of paper sitting in a bin.
The “American Dream”, for example. An immigrant from (not to be cliché) Mexico comes to America. She plans to work, to have this so called “equality” and “success” that the great country boasts. She’s not met with that, though. Instead she is subjugated to the stereotypes of a Mexican immigrant, made fun of- and even worse, she can’t understand them fully- of her culture and accent. She’s belittled in the eyes of her “equals” and then she starts to feel like what they’re saying- whatever they’re saying- she is. That’s when she fights, trying to someway prove herself- whether it be to America or anybody- that she belongs. She has a right as much as anybody else does. She can achieve the American dream too.
It’s wrong, incorrect, a mistake; Is the American Dream even attainable now? She has a certain set of skills, and cannot receive the opportunity to develop them further, how then, can a communnity demand more progress from her? Someone is looked down upon, being shunned for the origins, their culture, or even the way they’re dressed. How can she aspire to reach her dreams when she is forcibly held down? She is nothing but a paper, crumpled, and tossed into a bin that is filled with crushed dreams just like her own. Instead of the nice residental area she lived in, a mortage she isn’t able to pay, and college fees she knows her family cannot afford- she will give up. She’ll wait for trash day to collect herself, to weep and give in to the insults and then willingly accept her assigned place in life.
What no one ever told her was that “recycling” was a thing. Yes, maybe she was crumpled and tossed into this bin. People often think a crumpled paper is trash, but not often is it considered a treasure. A mere bin full of paper can serve as a person’s new clean sheets of a composition notebook or a carboard box used to transfer goods all across the countries. Countless uses of recycled paper can be thought of. It all comes down to choice and perspective, doesn’t it?
She could be willing to just accept the norm and move on with her life. Be the trash of the community, don’t fight or complete the dream she held on to for so long. Or she could choose the recycling part, where she hears the derogatory names and biased judgement- the real trash- and put it to good use. Make a thousand jean pencils for children, or a million paper coffee cups, but overall- acheive the dream. Take the trash and use it as her motivation. “I may be a crumpled paper now, but one day I will be the first sheet of notebook paper a child will write on. I will make a difference”.
What we don’t need, or want, or simply put, can’t achieve- all of it-crumpled pieces of paper sitting in a bin. The only things that matter are how we see those papers and what we choose do with them.
Why am I assigning life to what’s in a trash bin? I can’t honestly answer that myself, if you’re not aware, I have a weird way of explaining things. But let’s not get off on the wrong foot. I’m not a Debby Downer who rants about just how terrible my life is. No worries there!
Here’s some links that went along with this:
Go Green! Recycle!: http://earth911.com/recycling/
Backstreet Boys (first line reminded me haha): www.youtube.com/watch?v=U977qFa0KJo
Go Green Everybody