Self-Imposed Prison

It is more than just seemingly ironic when I study “Self-Reliance” and Thoreau’s “Walden.” We as scholars are encouraged to read, to study, to explore our options by involving ourselves with campus – and then find ourselves with no time to truly explore. We make commitments because commitment is the underbelly of our society, the driving force behind our modern lives.

In many ways, we are lucky. Females in particular used to be unable to study or partake in anything that could potentially damage their reputation and therefore marriage prospects. We had to ask permission from society to express ourselves; now, it is an accepted fact that women study and work, sometimes choosing their career over the traditional family, other times doing both – and making more money than their significant other. All students are fortunate because we have more opportunities available to us than ever; financial aid, study abroad, degrees in all sorts of developing fields, clubs with all sorts of constitutions.

We are also unlucky. So many opportunities lead to confusion and searches for identity. For every person who finds their calling, there are several who remain clueless as to what they should be. It leads to unhappiness and often stagnant lifestyles, leaving a person feeling like they are caught.

Then there are people like me. I wonder what I am doing with my life. I am doing supposedly what I am supposed to do – go to college, get an education, involve myself – but it’s not really bringing me much happiness at times. I hate being idle and so in some ways it saves me, but then, there are many ways that I feel trapped. I want to join new groups, but I cant due to other groups I’m in – and some of them are now my jobs. Often I am exhausted, emotionally and mentally and physically, and I just want to collapse and talk to no one for any period of time. I am continually growing sick of people and their opinions, probably because I’ve met people here who are so arrogant and opinionated that they hate or disparage anybody who disagrees with them or has the nerve to say they are “wrong.” It’s along the lines of, “I’m wrong? No, you’re wrong, by saying that I’m wrong,” thus pervading this sense of always being right.

What idiots, yeah?

But I digress. What I want to bring from this is that reading Emerson’s “Self Reliance” is really pulling at my heart strings. I want to travel everywhere, and I think a large part of it is because I am unhappy and unsure as to who I am. I doubt that going out on my own and living in a cabin, secluded from society, will bring me total happiness, not after how I was raised and what I have continually employed myself with. However, I can’t help but wonder why I am reading Emerson – he gives good advice, but according to him, I am just as capable of being as wise as him if I dare to think and say and write what I wish. I cannot do that if I am always studying other authors; Emerson himself describes a library as a prison for man. In a way he’s right –how often I feel limited, or inadequate, because of other works. Hardly a confidence booster, especially for a burgeoning writer.

I am working on my own life and who I should be. I wonder how I can truly be self-reliant in this society, and how I can become self-aware, when I am constantly trapped by commitment.

I am not happy in this world.

Soundtrack

I heard a song today that I’ve

Heard a thousand times before

But sitting in my chair I thought

I finally understood what it was for

Remember that night I couldn’t sleep

You offered me a place to stay

We didn’t plan on anything happening

I go over it in my mind every day

I stayed up all night talking to you

Work called me in the morning so I turned away

Then you asked if you could hold me

I turned around and that’s when I lost my way

Your kiss was the sweetest I’ve ever tasted

I felt it all the way to my knees yet it wasn’t rough

Only the sun was witness to our tangled up limbs

Your mouth was a drink and I couldn’t get enough

The first two days passed and I felt like it was a play

I thought it was forever but this was only second act

The curtain is about to call for our final bow and still

I can’t just forget, and I don’t want to see you react

I still remember trying to figure out the color of your eyes

Your fingers so long but fit perfectly with mine

It was a long hot summer but you echo mostly clearly

I have to break the news and I wish I was lying

Your kiss was the sweetest I’ve ever tasted

I felt it all the way to my knees yet it wasn’t rough

Only the sun was witness to our tangled up limbs

Your mouth was a drink and I couldn’t get enough

So many nights have passed by and that feeling remains

So fresh in my mind, but I know I must say goodbye

No one else can compare, my darling, I swear

I’m not replacing you but we know the timing isn’t right

The sensation of your skin and your fingers

I remember you calling me gorgeous and stroking my hair

Never was a fairytale so wrong in its time and place

Just know it’s not because I don’t care because I still swear,

Your kiss was the sweetest I’ve ever tasted

I felt it all the way to my knees yet it wasn’t rough

Only the sun was witness to our tangled up limbs

Your mouth was a drink and I couldn’t get enough

I couldn’t get enough, I couldn’t get enough

Friend, I promise, you were always enough.

It’s love that isn’t enough, isn’t enough.

Life is an occasion: Rise.

The Dark Knight Rises is a jewel in the world of cinema. Not only is it a brilliant conclusion to a trilogy and plays plenty of homage and reference to the other two, it is also just a genuinely enjoyable film. It has important elements about love, family, and finding yourself - and oh my god, it's a teen Bruce Wayne. Sort of. More like midlife crisis, really, but it's the Batman so it warrants a kickass movie at the hands of Christopher Nolan.

I giggled and clapped and stared transfixed at the screen, sometimes horrified but mostly enraptured. I walked out of that movie in awe. Words could not describe it, a sentiment echoed by many others I have discussed the film with. I get that feeling very, very rarely - in fact, I can only think of Harry Potter 7, Part 2 coming close.

The main gravitas of the movie is how it makes me look at my own life. Seriously. One, the film is about a man's journey to save his city and find himself a happy life, overcoming a dark, desolate, almost Lord of the Flies-esque society. It's hard not to identify with that. Two, the film explores the power of just one individual in various ways through not one but really all of its characters - Bruce, Blake, Gordon, Selina, Bane.

Three, and most importantly, the film's ability to make me feel. People created this film - artists made me feel what I felt, a feeling of hope and redemption and power. It's hard to describe but I think that if you see the film, you'll understand. If one man essentially (Christopher Nolan) can direct and execute a film - hell, a trilogy - such as this, what says that one girl/woman such as myself cannot do the same? I am a writer, an artist, a dreamer, a creative mind. I don't think in terms of numbers or absolutes like some do. I am always thinking and creating. In short, I'm a writer, and a writer's dream is to not only paint a canvas with words but to effect people, make them feel different corners of their emotional wavelength.

Going to the movies is intended to offer an escape, and The Dark Knight Rises does more than just that. It made me feel inspired to do good, to find hope in every darkness, to overcome all the people that don't like me - Catwoman is an excellent example of not caring what other people think - and to become something more than just another one of the masses. I can contribute to the world. I can become powerful by making people feel what I feel, and tell stories that make people not feel alone, to make them feel inspired. Life is an occasion; rise.

"If you make yourself more than just a man...."

On another note, a moment of silence for those injured and killed in the Aurora, Colorado theater massacre, and a prayer of thanks that a similar event did not happen at my theater or a theater that contained loved ones.

Places, I am going

Got paid today. YEAHHHH! I needed the good ole (not) trustfund replenished...sooo bad.
And the truck is fixed. No more dent from some asshole, and no chipped paint. It's so purty :)) Plus it actually has more than a quarter tank of gas. Payday, again, chicka chicka yeahhhh!

I have a new mantra now. I've finally reached that point of not looking back at all the things I could've, should've, would've done. It's the first step to a new and improved and, ultimately, happier Cassie. I guess I've finally become exhausted with the whole thing - imagining all these different scenarios with people if I had said this or done that.
It's growing up, and as much as I hate doing that sometimes, as it means another piece of innocence lost, it has to happen, right? Better it happens now than when I'm like 50 and realize I've spent my life being stupid far longer than I should. What I mean by that is how some people never leave high school - they just stay the same person, keep trying to date the same people or take jobs that are just as dead-end as the one before or talk about the same old people.
Where's the forgiveness? Where's the bravery in that? It's terrifying to think that I will be the same person in thirty years that I am now, yet there are people like that. They have kids, jobs, etc. but their personalities never change. It's always the same mindless drabble, a never-ending circle.
A big part of it is where they live, which is why I will never live in Taylorville again. It's starting to lose its significance anyway and turning more into nostalgia. I have new appreciation for it but since those days are gone and I'm not focusing on the past anymore, it's time to remember it fondly but think of new places. I want to live in Europe for a while. I'm not sure how long, but I need to get away from the U.S. and everything even slightly familiar. It probably will not be until after college. I don't intend to plan what I do after college. I know I'm not going to go to undergrad because I will undoubtedly be burnt out on school and need to take a break - it'll be weird after 16 years of schooling, but I'm determined to take a year off. I think i'll just buy a plane ticket and go somewhere - the coast of the U.S., Europe. Maybe I'll have some friends there from when they studied abroad or when I studied abroad.
I need to do it then because that's the time to do it - I'll be 22, graduated college (if all goes as planned), and no doubt thirsty to see the world. I gotta do it before I get stuck in a job or stuck in grad school or stuck with whatever thrown my way - hopefully not kids but a boyfriend or something.
Get out while the gettin' is good, is the phrase.
After Europe or wherever, I think I'll move to the coast here in the U.S. Jobs will play a part I'm sure, or even grad school - I haven't given up on Mizzou just yet. Missouri might be welcome after my time abroad. We'll see. Then again, maybe I'll get more schooling abroad. Have to see.
I'm trying to figure out what I want to do. It's still early so I have time, but I prefer that when it comes to planning things. Ask anyone who's been to one of my big parties. I plan for a week, two weeks, perhaps a month in advance. I don't know if I want to go into publishing because it might be mind-numbing work. I don't know if I'll want to be a reporter or not. I might be burnt(burned?) out on that. I just want to see the world, and reporting might be the best idea, especially for a young, single woman with no major family commitments.
Yeah, I'm going to be one of those career women. I could never be a housewife. I'd be one of those housewives that kills her husband with a pitchfork or arsenic or something and screams "YOU STOLE MY YOUUUUUUTH!"
Who knows. Maybe I'll be a graphic designer at Vanity Fair or something. I love designing spreads. For now, I guess I'll just do what I love and see what follows. That's ultimately how you find yourself. I'm hoping to get an internship next summer, preferably in Chicago. We'll see.

You are 19.

When the only people you see are in music videos.

When you go on tumblr and proceed to post way too many, way too personal images and quotes.

When you determinedly ignore talking to his best friend about what happened.

When you refuse to reflect on how she gave you a very unpleasant flash of déjà vu.

When you think back to how you used to be and wish you still were.

When you think how ironic that is.

When you realize that that person is deep in you and you just need to let her step out again.

When you receive great comfort from John Hughes films.

When you bake in the sun and nurse your wounds with a fond flash of remembrance.

When you see a picture and think that you actually look pretty even though you pick out your flaws.

When you realize that perfection is boring.

When you realize you will not be a teenager for much longer.

When you realize why people reflect on adolescence with fondness,

You are 19.

So this blog is becoming a collection of my works. I think it will be very therapeutic. I think this summer in general with be therapeutic. I plan to enjoy myself and spend time with people I normally would spend time with it.

"Funny, isn't it," a friend has said, "how our groups have all changed after graduating high school."

Indeed, they have. I like it, I suppose. I'm happier now with these people than I was back in the day, and since some of the people are the same, I figure I am doing pretty well by my own standards, friend wise. You never really keep the same exact people in your lives because we are all changing. I'm not the person I was a year or two or more years ago, and I can't expect other people to be.

I can just expect people to be, whatever they are, a good one: a good person, a good friend. I think that's all I can recall of myself.

"Whatever you are, be a good one."-Abraham Lincoln

Yeah, I like that.

Wannabe Breakfast Club

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“I’m figuring out as we speak. You might as well fill in the gaps.”

She glared at him. “Then figure it out.”

“No. Tell me. I would only get half the story and I don’t half ass anything, so tell me or I’ll coerce you.”

“What, you gonna torture me?” she challenged.

“No, don’t need to. Just going to bother you.”

She stared at the wall resolutely, and finally he sighed.

“Look, we’re in here. We have no other alternative to listening to each other talk other than watching the walls start to bleed. Talk, for fuck’s sake.”

She caught his eye, and for the first time didn’t look away. He stared back, eyes dark and wide and almost honest. She looked at her crunched-up legs, focusing on a scuffed sneaker.

“I was climbing the ladder, the career ladder. I was determined. Slept little, ate little, worked all the time, picked up extra shifts. I hadn’t found the line yet…”

“big surprise,” he muttered, forgetting they were in a six foot space. He immediately regretted it as her head whipped up, gaze hardened.

“You know what? Forget it.”

“Okay, okay, I’m –”

“No, you’re not,” she snapped. “You don’t care. Fuck this. What is this supposed to be? We get caught in the elevator, it breaks, and now we’re in some fucked-up version of The Breakfast Club with only Brian and the Basketcase because of – because of – budget cuts!”

He started laughing, which only pissed her off more.

“Fuck you.”

“Yes, fuck me, that’s funny!” he kept laughing. “Brian? Basketcase? Hey, wait…I’m the nerdy brain? Gee, thanks.”

“Get real. I’m the nerdy brain. You’re the basketcase.”

“Whaaat? I don’t –”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re not a compulsive liar with an obviously messed up parental relationship and a broody, outcast, caustic disposition? Please.”
“Ouch. I’m not a compulsive liar. I plan.”

“Oh, that’s so much better.”

“Wait, so what, you’re the nerd? The quiet one? The insecure one with great, magnificent insight and so much pressure from your parents?”

“Yep. I mean, everyone wants to be Bender or Claire, and I saw a bit of myself in all of the characters, even the janitor or the dick principal, but…I always was Brian, I know. Just that one line…” She paused, biting her lip.

He thought. “…‘I don’t know pressure. Fuck you’?”

Genuine surprise. “No…‘I see myself in the mirror, you know, and I…I don’t like what I see.’”

“Don’t be,” he said, shaking his head. She stared at him, head cocked to the side, and visibly thought about his words, wondering if she was foolish for misunderstanding…

“Don’t be what?”

“Don’t be…unhappy with yourself. You’ve got a lot less to be unhappy about than most people, than I do. You’re…you’re one of the best people I’ve met.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah. So, when you look in the mirror…like what you see. You’re one of the few people that should.”

(c) CJB June 7 2012

This is mine. Don't steal.

In another life, I would never have to say I'm sorry.

Oh wow.
So much has changed.
I helped save a life. Then ruined it. I...I made a huge mistake recently, and it's tearing me apart. This entire semester I have been torn apart.
It's my fault. It's someone else's fault but it's also mine.
Another huge mistake. The only thing that this is good for is that it's teaching me another life lesson. I'm chalking up a lot of those.
I think what's really messed me up is that no one needs me here. No one needs me to talk to them out of something. No one really wants me here. No one would care if I left. It's terrible, right? But that's the way it is when you're an adult. Everyone lets go. I'm still a child because I hold on tightly.
I can't even describe what I'm going through right now. Tonight was a senior ceremony and I cried because two of the seniors are two of the greatest people I've ever known and have really been there. I am losing so many friends next semester, either graduating or studying abroad or transferring. Plus it doesn't help that it seems like so many people have shown their true colors, and none of them blend well with mine.
I'm like a nut in a skittles factory. Hahaha that actually made me smile. But truly, that is probably one of the best descriptions. I've made a lot of mistakes and realized just how powerful are words; I was on the other end of the line. Instead of words tearing me apart, I tore someone else apart, and I can't take it back.
Life lesson. Life lesson. That's my mantra.
I'm damn well tired of it. The best I can do is to remind yourself to remember that everyone else is human, like you, and that words leave scars even deeper than physical ones.
I'm ready to go home and forget the world. See if anyone misses me enough to text or call. Then again, some people annoy me so much these days. Maybe I should just leave? I'm considering it. But then, I'd have to start all over again. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I'm not sure where I'd go, though. A state school? Another private college?
Fuck it. Fuck it all. I want this semester to be over.
And there I go again. For all I know, this semester will be one of the best ones of my life. HA! I need a new beginning. I'm hoping the three months will clear my head, help me find myself again, and hold on to her.

UPDATE: But then, that'd be too easy. I would not grow from that. I need to come back and face my demons, maybe make happier ones. It'd be too easy to flip over a new page and leave. That's the coward's way out. The only thing worse - well, okay, not the only worse thing - than  coming back next semester would be running away. I surely must have some sort of life here. I have a couple jobs lined up at the least. I'm feeling calmer now, but still...it's hard, you know? It's really friggin' hard and upsetting. I'm at the point where sometimes I'm fine but then I see someone, talk to someone, get a random flashback, and I sink.
I wish it'd be a little easier. I know you don't grow when it's easy though.

It's What You Want It To Be

Hi.
I'm being a bit of a downer lately. I feel bad for my friends. I'm having issues, you could say. I'm working on them though. I'm naturally self-destructive, but I'm trying to overcome that. I think everyone is so, what's the big deal? I should be able to overcome. Counseling helps, for shiz. Anybody who has a problem with that can go screw themselves.
I guess it's just one of those points in time where I need to stop, and remember: this is temporary. Everything is temporary. It's all gonna be different in a few months. College is going by so fast, and I already love it so much more than high school. High school is nice because that's when you find out who your friends are. College is nice because you find out who you are, and make some great friends along the way with the insight you gained in high school. Plus make some more mistakes, like I have. Live and learn, right?
When the way you came looks dark, look forward and remember the path is as bright as you make it.

"Not all who wander are lost."-J.R.R. Tolkien

Ain't No Mountain

HI!
Wow. It's been a while. A lot has happened, and yet, not.
I'm on the emotional rollercoaster ride even as my body stays firmly in my every day, same day life.
I suppose there are worse things to be.
Today I had a realization that I always kind of knew, but never quite put into words, and it's simply this. I occasionally have this desire to just change my name, change it to something ridiculous, or start up a fake account. Be this new person. Get called a new name. It took me until tonight to realize, it's not because I want a change of pace...I just want to be a different person sometimes. I think this occurs when a great disappointment happens, because I've been having a few of those in a row. Nothing really went right for me this break...yet one thing did, by not going right.
Allow me to explain: I was talking to a guy, and I knew he wasn't good for me, deep down. I knew it wouldn't work. But he was so persistent, and so different than the usual guy who likes me, I wanted to believe in it. I gave it a shot...but I can't trust him. Deep down. I know something was wrong when we hung out, and so I was going to end it...but then he stopped talking to me. Completely. Two weeks later, he has a girlfriend, so that explains that. Is it bad that I just wanted him to give me a heads up? I mean, he was the one who started this, his persistence...
Ah well. Another disappointment. It's better this way. I deserve better than a guy who, to put it lightly, had some serious flaws. And that's all I have to say about that.
This break's been kind of disappointing. Hardly wrote a thing. I need to get back in the swing of things. Being in this rut has not helped at all with my creative process. I need to be happy, be around people that make me happy, and there's people here that make me happy but...Taylorville's not the same. I dream of something more. I yearn for something more. It's school, college, the great ole land of Monmouth...
God I can't wait for the 22. It might sound terrible, but I guess it's a good thing - I'm moving on to the next chapter. Semester 2. It's going by so fast. I'm trying to grab on to moments, and I think I'm doing pretty well.
Ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no river wiiiiiide enough....

Keep on Keepin' On

It's getting so hectic! It's already the weekend before Thanksgiving. I can hardly believe it. This term flew by faster than any year I was in high school, which is saying something since parts of it are just a huge blur.

*shudder* I feel I'm getting a bit old for this.

Halloween was so much fun. My g-ma, Felicia, dressed me up in 80s gear. I loved it. She is a million times better with make up and hair than I am. She dressed up as a flapper, and her dress was absolutely awesome.

Sadly I didn't get to see my big, Megan. But oh wells. We went to Kimber's room for a bit and then us a big group of girls went to ZBT, where we met up with Carina and Brittany and a ton of other girls. I didn't know a lot of the guys there, but they were hilarious and seemed a lot of fun. I definitely need to go there more often.
Then, off to AFter Dark for the Phi Delt party. I've never danced so much in my life. So many people were there, and I knew a lot of the Phi Delt guys. I can now happily say I grinded on Dr. House, aka Joe Florio. It's weird how similar the two are.

Bridget was there too, Andy's sister. All the guys kept trying to grind on her to piss off Andy, so me and Megan Z and Joe (kind of) acted as a task force to keep her from being too uncomfortable. It was nice to see a familiar face, and I'm pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

It's been really busy since then. November has flown by. I went home for 11/11/11 for Tyler's wedding. Michael and Katie's kids are at the fun age now. Sophia loves me, and so do Izzy and Jackson - Jackson's a little turd. I need to watch my mouth around them though. I didn't say any bad words, but I did say butthead, which apparently is a bad word - so much for that. This is what happens when you put me around small children.

Ah wellz, it was a great wedding. I missed a lot on campus though, which isn't fun.

I'm making more friends. Last night me, Kate, Carina and Heather had a pizza/movie party in Kate and Heather's room. It was nice. I missed nights like those. We're going to try to do those every two or three weeks.

YEAH!

Oh, and me and Carina discovered we are the same person. It was odd, but comforting to know I"m not alone in my oddness :)

Tonight was A Christmas Carol, and Xi Marks the Spot. Now i'm going to Jen and Berly's room, then After Dark! I'm so pumped, I straightened my hair!

Oh yeah's. I feel pretty. Now I just need to change.

I'm excited for break. I need a break, first of all - EVERYONE DOES!! College is different in that we do not get a day off every week, but our breaks tend to be longer. Turkey Break isn't much, but winter break is over a month long. Heck yeah!!!

But the best part about Thanksgiving? REAL FOOD!!!!

Life is good. I have the occasional down day, and there's definitely been challenges, but then, c'est la vie. :)

Why hello, ledge, I'm thinking I need some space from you.

To clarify last blogpost, ladies and gentleman, I'd like to say I don't hate Monmouth College. Truly, I don't. It's beautiful here and the people are pretty friendly, all things considered.

I'm just a freshman stuck in a brand new world and the future is creeping up on me. Existential crisis, a friend or two has called it. And now I'm wondering what I'm doing. Where am I going to end up?

But then, I finally calmed down. I talked to a few of my good friends. I talked to a professor. I'm stepping down from the ledge, so to speak. I guess it's just a typical part of life - and sometimes you hit it early, sometimes you don't. I typically hit things before everyone else. I'm not sure if this is one of those cases.

It's all baby steps, I suppose. Invite people over, talk to people you typically don't talk to, chill out in the library or the lounge or sorority house as opposed to your room. Give out your number if the person passes the creeper test or the bitch-you-don't-want-to-have-on-your-contacts-list. And just *be.*

It takes time, but I'll get there. I've got all this time, and don't have any time, all at once. That's beauty of living, isn't it? Not having a clue when it all ends. It kind of sucks because when the moment comes I imagine you feel pretty stupid about all the time you wasted…but that's just being human, really. I know I waste time. I feel pretty miserable sometimes. I think it's inevitable. I guess just try to live in the now, and don't sweat the small things. I hear people complain about the most retarded things, and it really makes me go, "huh? Quit being so negative."

Seriously, positivity is key. I have my moments, Lord knows, but at least I'm trying. And that's all I can do.

I don't know.

"and we'll climb up on the mountain, y'all, we'll let our voices ring, and those who've never tried it, they'll be the first to sing."

I don't know what I'm doing here.
What if I made a mistake? What if I picked the wrong college? What if it's not the college and it's just me? Maybe i'm just tired of being in school. I hate that it's "required" to graduate college to be successful. I hate being in school. I'm not learning anything important, and I can't imagine it's different anywhere else - private, public, wherever.

I seriously hate it. I hated it in high school. I don't hate it quite as much as I did then, but I still just look around sometimes and ask, "Why am I here? Why the hell am I here?"

Am I supposed to go on my own? I feel like the moment you lose your drive for education, you lose any value you may gain. I'm trying, I'm definitely taking steps to figure out what's wrong within, but sometimes I wonder if maybe I should just quit.
Give up.
Do something really different.
Scare myself.

But how do I do that? No one will help me. Hell, hardly anyone helps me now. I try to map out what I'd do if I actually did it, drop out of college, but I don't know. I'd be alone, and while I generally like my quiet time, I can't be alone for long. It bores me. It saddens me. Sometimes it angers me. But then, if I leave school and just go somewhere, anywhere, will that be any better?

Or am I just traveling the typical voyage of a college drop out, and never amount to anything? Wind up trapped somewhere? Be dead inside for the rest of my life?

My god. There would be no safety net. But what if I wind up finding out what I'm meant to do?
Or is it too soon?
But seriously…I don't know what I'm doing.

I just don't know anymore.

Get Mad. Sometimes. No, Really.

You ever read a book that randomly reminds you of a long-suppressed memory, and suddenly, something makes sense?

I'm reading a lot of books I've never read before for my Young Adult Lit class (English 180). One is 'The Skin I'm In.' Maybe you've read it - it's a junior high, elementary school-level book. It's about a black girl who is picked on mercilessly by everyone, yet affiliates herself with the worst girl of them all as a semi-sort of protection. Needless to say, I want to punch the bully in the face. And I want to shake some sense in Maleeka.

But I know it can't be done. Because I was there. I used to let someone pick on me, beat me up, do all sorts of nasty things - childish things, terrible things, things that hurt long after they happened, long after the wounds were inflicted. And there's only so much anyone else can do before enough is enough.

I never really got my 'enough is enough' moment. At least, if it did, I don't remember it. I fought back, but I was overpowered.

Now, there's no one that can push me around. I get mad. And I do something about it. So maybe all the childhood/adolescent trauma did something to me, something that can't be undone, something that many people try to protect kids from but, hell, it made me stronger. It made me fight.

I heard the click. Something finally fit in my mind, something small but really important to how I am. I always get mad when I read books where the protagonist is picked on. Whether they do something or not is not quite as relevant, although I usually keep telling them to do something. I mean, looking back, junior high was worse than high school because that was the only time I was bullied by multiple people. Now, well, let's just say those people are fuckin' losers. Never going to amount to anything, probably wind up dead in the next ten years, the whole nine yards. I could be wrong. Maybe they'll be the next dude of The Pursuit of Happyness, and in a way I hope I'm wrong, but I doubt I am.

Looking back, I see how ridiculous it is not to stand up for yourself. I mean, when you're a kid it's a big deal if you're different. Oh God, it is. But there's a difference between wanting to fit in, and taking every shit that is dumped on you like a patch of grass. There's a fine line. And I know how to walk it. So while I am prone to hitting people, it is because I am hard-wired that way, after letting someone physically assault me - I literally, sometimes, must hit back.

And now, some words of wisdom from the a guy who used to be a major eff-up:
"Don't ever take no shit off of anybody. I think that's the best piece of advice I ever got."-Johnny Depp

Soundtrack of My Life

So, to put off homework, which is something I should major in, here are the songs that would be on the soundtrack of my life. This is just for right now, my 18th year of existence - the one that would span my whole life is too much for me to chew on right now.

In a Small Town ~ Kenny Chesney
Like a Rock ~ Bob Seger
Enchanted, Sparks Fly ~ Taylor Swift
My Favorite Regret ~ Gigolo Aunts
Under Pressure ~ Queen feat. David Bowie
Don't Stop Believin' ~ Journey
Tell Me I'm a Wreck ~ Every Avenue
Only the Good Die Young, She's Always a Woman, Vienna ~ Billy Joel
Raise Your Glass, Who Knew ~ P!nk
Stand By Me ~ Ben E. King
Misery ~ Soul Asylum
Welcome to the Jungle ~ Guns n' Roses
Eye of the Tiger ~ Survivor
Scotty Doesn't Know ~ Lustra
Ready to Love Again ~ Lady Antebellum
The Engine Driver ~ The Decemberists
21 Guns ~ Green Day feat. American Idiot Cast
Lose Yourself ~ Eminem
Music is My Boyfriend ~ Skye Sweetem
I'll Make a Man Out of You ~ Mulan soundtrack
O Children ~ Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

What is brave to you?

What is bravery to you?

I'm scared of new people. I'm scared of never fitting in. I'm scared of time.

I go to a school over 150 miles away from my hometown. I know two people before I move here. I go to a classroom, and do not know a single face. I talk. I speak. I try to branch out. I take advantage of each moment.

Does that make me brave? I don't know. I think that just might be life. Thoughts, anyone?

Yrbooks R N

I got a text message from Mr. Steele. It's simple: 

Everyone was excited about it. Steelecat said it was gorgeous. They blew off anything important to talk about "how awesome it is." 

my book. 

It all paid off, and I can't wait to see it.

A meandering response to a ridiculous question

It's a question I was asked during a scholarship interview, and I found myself fumbling - I didn't know why at the time why this question in particular threw me off completely, but now I do: It's ridiculous. Here's the question:

"Where do you imagine yourself in 10 years?"

Let's put this in to context (at the time). I am 17, very nearly 18 years old. I'm a senior in high school. I'm still debating between colleges. I only know I want to be an English major because English is the only area I have had a chance to explore, discover I have an affinity for it, and most importantly love it. I have so many dreams I don't know which one I want to explore, or if they are even feasible at this point.

Here's a rundown of professions I have briefly or not-so-briefly entertained: a veterinarian, a fiction writer, a reporter, a literary editor, a newspaper/magazine editor, a contributing staff writer, a photographer, a stunt double, a screen writer, a special effects coordinator, an actress, a publishing mogul, a lawyer, a singer, a freelance writer, a musician.

Those are the ones that spring to mind anyway. And you know what? No matter how old you get, once you have a dream, it never completely lets you go. A part of you always yearns to be that, even if it's not possible, even if it's not probable, even if you have discovered something else you want more.

Most importantly is that I don't know what dreams will become attainable by careful planning. I don't which ones will be attainable when/if Fate intervenes. Say I audition for a play, and get a good part. A movie producer or an actor or something comes along and sees me and offers me a role in a movie, or gets me an agent. Becoming an actress seems very likely, no? But say, a year or two or more or less, I write a novel and manage to get it published. What do you know, a dream is accomplished, because I took a class or I finally disciplined myself into sitting down and forming a piece of publishable literature.

Or say I complete college and land a job at a publishing firm. Say that I become a newspaper writer/editor for the college newspaper and my resume builds up so I get a job for the Chicago Sun-Times.

Idon'tknow.

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?"
Now that you see me, see what's in my head, tell me, how can I answer that? Explain to the interview in a few seconds what it just took me roughly five minutes to write? Time is money, very literally in this case. No way could I give a feasible answer except, I don't know. I don't know where I'm going to be because my life is still very much open to interpretation. It's an ambiguity.
(There you go, Professor Suda and Hale.)

In my eyes, that's a good thing. I would undoubtedly be very depressed if I knew exactly where my life was going to be in ten years, when I was only 17-18 years old. I don't want to know. I want to be happy. That's about all I can think of. And I think that's all I can feasibly imagine at this point.

It doesn't take Fate or careful planning to be happy. You just have to look at life, and be happy with what you see. The way I look at is this: if I don't know where my life is going to be, I have hope. And I am happy with that.

First Day

Wow. So this morning is a blur. I remember getting up and getting dressed and not putting on make-up like I had planned. I went to breakfast with Mary Kate at 8:45 because my earliest class is at 9:30, which is AWESOME since I had early bird last year (Gary is going to laugh when I tell him that). I went back to my dorm, picked up my backpack and trudged to U.S. History.

I don't know if this is because I am accustomed to the unquestionable talent of Mr. Zini, my 8th grade history teacher, or even good ole Mr. Bond, freshman Civics and senior World History teacher, but I'm pretty sure that Professor Urban is going to put me to sleep. Which is a bummer, because he seems like a really nice guy. But what can you do? It's a general-ed class and the only way I could take another gen-ed history class is if I took Spanish 102 at 8 in the morning every day.
Say it with me: NO.

Then came ILA with Professor Suda. I can already tell she's a no-bull shit kind of person. She's crazy, but a good kind of crazy. She's also a music teacher, so there you go. She's also apparently a hardass at grading, but seriously, bring it on. Sorrill, Steelecat and Kensil prepared me. Mr. Roberts kept my self-esteem in check with his hand-drawn figures that I will always cherish.
Note to self: remind Mom not to throw that folder away or promise sudden death.

Afterwards (my schedule is 9:30-10:45, 11-11:50, and 12-12:50, bam bam bam on MWF), Spanish 102. Professor Germain Badang is an interesting guy - grew up in Africa (I can't remember where exactly....shit), speaks that language native to his country as well as Spanish and French, now lives in Monmouth, IL. Don't ask me how that happened, I don't know yet. And he began by speaking French, asking if this was a French class, which I didn't fall for because come on, oldest trick in the book (and I had already checked with the girl next to me that this was the correct class, thank you very much). Then switched to Spanish. He spoke occasional English, but in general, he said so himself, 80% Spanish, 20% English.
I'm interested to see how this goes.

I think my most vivid memory is the rain - it was beautiful because it hasn't rained, really rained, as long as I've been here. I moved in July 31 - yeah, that heat wave you may recall? No air conditioning. I drank four water bottles per day and only had to pee once, on average. So the rain was beautiful, but brief. It's weird because in some spots it was sunshine and other parts a little drizzle. Awesome. And I thought of As Told by Ginger, "There were copper colored ponies, air that smelled like rain, and the moon was out in daytime..." Blah blah blah.

Oh, and I was guaranteed no Spanish on Fridays. HOLLA! And I only have three classes per day, with the exception of Wednesday: 11:00-11:50 ILA, 12-12:50 Spanish, 1-1:50 Young Adult Lit, and 7:00-7:50 Print/Media workshop.

Best part of the day was going to the theater moving. As soon as they started talking about auditions, I slowly started to feel more alive. Finally! My chance! I've always wanted to act, but no singing talent = no part in the spring musical. Those *******! but now I have my chance. Then I had dinner with a bunch of theater majors/minors etc., and finally met the guy who I remember from two years ago in Sweeney Todd. He played Toby then and he stole the show, when he was a freshman. He's very dynamic and hilarious and modest and (I think) gay, and it's a great combo.

Moral of the story: everything, including first day of school, is better in college than in high school/junior high. I'd say elementary school, but a) I don't remember a whole lot of it and b) elementary school was the best years of my life.

Deja-Vu, Re-Vamped

It's not what I thought it'd be.

Then again, I had very few ideas about it to begin with. I just wanted something better. I looked around, every day, for about a year - looking back, for much longer than a year. There had to be something better. There had to be more.
Taylorville is a great place to grow up, but leaving is the only way to grow out.
So I arrived early, participated in research. Heard a professor say words like fuck and damn and shit. And you know, it wasn't derogatory - he/she was imitating someone, was talking like people actually talk, wasnt' worried (too much) about offending someone.
I went out when I wanted to go out. No checking in, no texting my parents. I didn't know too many people, because there were only a small number of people to know. Then I watched, as week 2 went by, and more and more people filled the cafeteria.
I sat with random people at lunch, people I didn't know. There were no cliques - football players mostly sat together, but that was because they were told to, to create "team spirit," at least until camp was over. Everyone sat with everyone. People who might have hated each other just a few months ago, had they gone to high school. People giving people a chance because everything is different now.
Hell, even the air is different. And sometimes it stinks, both figuratively and literally (there's a slaughterhouse on one side of town and a dog food factory on the other).
It was in some ways new, and in other ways not. I was a freshman again. Some things are the same.
But some things...some things are vastly different. I look back four years ago, when I met people who changed my life, people I never would have expected to - people who still do.

Take a break, and think. Who have you fallen in love with? Who do you still love - as a friend, as more than a friend, years after you first met? Who has changed you?

I know that, in some ways, that's the same thing - you never know who you're going to meet and what role they are going to play. You just meet, talk, exchange perspectives, exchange numbers. You talk about your schools, and what your major is, what you're involved in.
It's like a first date, but with friends.
Today was the Freshman Walk-Out. That's when all the freshman Scots (yay! I'm a Scot!) walk around the town and are formally welcomed by businesses - by pens, pencils, free notebooks, coupons, fliers, food, magnets, markers, key chains. It was hot, sweat fell down my back, and the bags (started out with one, ended with four) grew heavy in my hands, deliciously heavy. And I was smiling the entire way, because it finally happened.
This isn't my entire life. But it's my life right now. It's a new beginning, finally, the one I've been waiting for. The next chapter has officially started, a new page started - and I was finally who I wanted to be, who I could be. I could join clubs without being judged by people, without being limited by my old friends. And I mean nothing bad by that, because I love my friends, best friends - and I know that they know what I mean. Anybody who's been to college knows what I mean.
All the things you wanted to do? They're possible. And it's a glorious feeling. Much like high school freshman year.

But here's the difference, the big difference: I know how fast it really goes. I remember last year, feeling so old, so big, so brave. I N V I N C I B L E. I hope my senior friends know what I'm talking about, because it's a nice feeling to have once in a while - the knowledge that you want to get out of here, but for now, this is your place, where you belong, it's finally your turn to be the head honchos. There is not a person (worth knowing, anyway) who you don't know, not a teacher you haven't heard a story about.
My little darlings, who I remember as little freshmen still to this day and am so proud of the people they have become, know what I'm talking about. All I can say is enjoy it as much as you can. I know, there are times senior year sucks and you just want to GET OUT, but when you're out, you are out. There's no going back. Remember that.
I was happy at graduation - ecstatic. I hope you are, too, because that means you're ready to go, and you should be. But until then, take a look around every once in a while. Participate. Or don't participate - in one class in particular, half the hour we usually spent just messing around, me usually playing angry birds or complaining how I could be doing something for Journalism.
Just make some memories that you want to remember. You'll appreciate it later, when you're a freshman again like me, not 14 but 18, and remember those days that sucked, but you also remember the days that kept you going.

Also, Facebook = awesome. I don't know what I would do without it, friends-wise. I miss my senior class so much already. We were unique, we were friends, we knew each other. Now we're all in different directions (all of us, thank God, no losses yet), but we are still united - phone numbers, Facebook, Skype. I'm so glad. I don't want to lose contact with them just yet, although 10-year reunion is going to be fun.

It goes by fast. And today, I recognized that. I smiled most of the entire day, was in a jovial mood despite having homework for the first time in months. I loved my ILA (Intro to Liberal Arts) class, because it was different from high school. I went to an informational meeting about sororities, something I never would've done in high school. I went to a residence hall meeting and began to realize just how differently, wonderfully different this year would be.
I can't wait to see how I change, who I form relationships with. I can't wait to see what teachers I hate and what teachers I all but literally worship. I can try to avoid the fights when I can, but I know that every bit of it, good or bad, there's a part of me that's going to enjoy it. Because I will be growing, experiencing, constantly changing. I will become who I am meant to be. I will find out just what I am made of.

I guess you could say I'm one of those people. The ones that take everything in stride because it all happens for a reason.
There is a reason. It's up to me to find it. This is me, going through ups and downs. This is me, going through another four years that will go by so slow, but looking back, it will have gone by so fast.
This is me, a freshman once more. I'm going to enjoy every second of it, because I know how it feels to be a senior and secretly (or not-so-secretly) scared shitless of what's next.

We don't remember days, we remember moments.


Walking down the streets of Monmouth this early afternoon, with two new friends I met only a few weeks ago, I realized that I will get back to that feeling soon enough, in a full circle. I realized I will never have a first day of college again, only a moment in the back of my mind.
This is me, age 18 now, and I'm taking hold of these days that will transform into moments, and I'm doing my damnedest to never let go.

"There's a whole universe next door. Come on, let's go."-e.e. cummings