Why Don't They Understand?

 How many times do you look at them
And see their childish eyes?
How many times do you listen
And hear their complaints run dry?

Maybe it's for the better
Maybe it's the only way to go.
You can't contain that need to help
That need to tell them all how.


I understand it all,
the way the world works.
You look at your neighbor
and wonder.
Do they really understand?

They're wrapped up in their own little worlds
They won't see the path ahead.
They're focused on that rumor
that joke.
That F.
All they can really see is that obstacle in their path.

I understand it all,
the way the world works.
You look at your neighbor
and wonder.
How does it really work?

Several times they'll ask a question
You'll think it's dumb.
Don't you understand?
The answer is seven, that's it.
You either get it, or you don't.

How many times have they turned
and asked you to eat with them
and you really didn't want to?
Why do they push you to eat?

You can take care of yourself.
You have your own problems to worry about.
Yet they want to know why
when
how
where
who.
But you want to be alone.

I understand it all
The way the world works.
I can look at them and say
Hey look.
It really does work.

There's a reason why they don't understand.
There's a reason why they don't try hard.
This world is content for them.
Their minds are closed.
I am one in a million, waiting for someone else
to realize that they have a bigger world
to explore as well.

Heaven, Hell, or Nothing at All?

I was challenged to write a persuasive essay about why there shouldn't be a heaven. At Costa Vida, me and my father's conversation went a little like this:

"I'm not sure I even want to have kids."
"They'll bring along a more mature side to you, a reason to grow more compassion rather than focus on yourself. If you die without any kids, all that will be left of you are books, which are good, not many people have even that, but you wouldn't have family."
"I don't want my family to suffer the loss of me. I don't want them to go through pain like that."
"Well that's why people believe in a heaven, so that they have an easier time letting go of those they love. I often wonder what it would be like if heaven didn't exist to the human mind."

I made a point that he really liked; a point that deserves to be applied to my following essay. He challenged me to persuade him that humans shouldn't have to have a paradise such as heaven in their hearts to survive. He challenged me to basically devise a world through fact and imagination that supported the beliefs of NOTHING when someone dies. I take it that he wants to know what a world without religion would be like.

The following definition of Religion comes from The Free Dictionary Online.

Religion
–noun

1.

a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.

2.

a specific fundamental set of beliefs and practices generally agreed upon by a number of persons or sects: the Christian religion; the Buddhist religion.

3.

the body of persons adhering to a particular set of beliefs and practices: a world council of religions.

 

The first definition defines that Religion is a way for people to cope with phenomenons of this world, and to have something worthwhile to hang on to, even though they may not be completely sure it's what they think it is. Heaven is a good example of this. The average Christian human believes that Heaven is a place after death where their spirit dwells and lives a lighter, more comfortable life after the challenging life of Earth. It's where they meet their loved ones who had passed, and another way for them to be together. It's an emotional healer for grief and misery pertaining to death. 

 

Most people cannot fathom what it would be like after death, because eternity is an intangible thought that the human mind can't grasp for very long without getting weary. It's like holding onto a vertical bar and suspending you in the air for a short period of time until you get tired. Your feet connect with the safety of the earth, and you walk as easily as normal people think about their day.  A man could walk to work, safe and sound upon the ground, and think normally about his business calls and his family at home. Say the man should sit down in his office chair and frown at the blank computer screen, seeing nothing but blue. His current thoughts may be reviewing why it's taking so long to load. This man has no religion. He sits next to a very religious interviewee who believes deeply in the LDS standards and won't open his mind to new experiences and thoughts. The man, upon staring at the screen, suddenly wonders what it would be like if he were to die suddenly and see nothing. What if he felt nothing, heard nothing, tasted nothing and smelled nothing? What if that was how his life would go. He does not believe in a place his soul will go to after this life. Had he told the interviewee next to him about his sudden realization, the interviewee would look at him simply and say "Your soul will peel away from your body and float to a holding place, just before heaven, where you will become a missionary and take a trip to Hell and make the nasty souls there wish they had done better in their lives." For the man with no religion, this would sound absurd compared to the simply blackness after life. Despite either belief, the man would think about this realization more often then not, subconsciously finding himself a lot more cautious of anything dangerous. 

 

If the entire human race hypothetically didn't believe in anything after death and didn't have any religious system to follow; pain, war, and life would be an ocean's width of a difference than it is now. Had people believed in blackness after death, cold and stripped of your senses, with no soul and nowhere to go; life on this earth would seem a lot more worth living for. 

 

The most common situation that happens to us as a human race included something that has to do with pain or depression. We have emotions that have the potential to be bigger than us and control our lives every day. Take the weather, for instance.  The man, who spends most of his afternoon in an office cubical, where the weather couldn't possibly effect him, feels sad when he realizes that it is a rainy day. He could pretend that within his confined office space, it was sunny outside, but the sad feelings still lurk inside him.  He had no control over it, and felt gloomy all day. It was because his emotions are teased by little things in his life that shouldn't be. When it comes to pain and suffering, we are weak. When there is no such thing to look for after death, the pain and suffering are decreased with caution, in hopes to keep living and get enough of the world and life that by the time death is close to you, you will accept the blackness that will swallow you whole. Everyone is different, and if some still take risks and live their life to the extreme, it will only state that they don't have a fear of the blackness that could be so far away, yet so near. 

 

When you see a young man enlist in the army during a time of bloodlust and horror, you wonder why he was signing up for the death and despair that awaits him. People who believed in an afterlife would have an easier time watching this young man sign up, knowing that they would be preserved in a good place until you reached him upon your death. You would be with him. Say there is no paradise after death. Say there is the unrelenting darkness described in this piece that would devour every last bit of you before you had a chance to fully live life. Would you be so quick to allow that boy to sign up for his death? War in general would be given a second thought. If there is no reincarnation and no way to see your loved ones after death, would generals and dictators be so quick to diminish their units of human life? What if there was a limit to the souls entering this world through birth? Bloodlust would seem a lot less desired for. If Heaven didn't exist, neither does a Hell. Committing murder would not be thought of as a sin that you had to be punished for, yet there would be no influence to even do it, if any satanic creature was not devised within the creation of Hell. War would not be so brutal. Temptation could be over scrutinized. Wrong doings in the world would have no meaning unless it brought pleasure to the occasional psychopath. 

 

To be quite frank, without a paradise more grand than life on this earth today, you would think more highly of your job and opportunities that followed when you saved up money for a ski-trip.  You would consider the pleasures of a full stomach and the iPod in your hand rather than the empty feeling of surrounding nothing after you die. Assuming no one believed in Heaven after death, there would be less suicides statistically, and more determination to push through the rough times in life. Heaven is used for weakness. When you cannot handle the challenges in this life, you believe that if you killed yourself, you would lead an easier life, away from financial potholes, abuse, and obesity. You would be perfect and skinny, and your soul would be free so long as you do not kill someone and get yourself planted in the fiery consumes of Hell. Knowing that what awaited you after the painful passing of death was nothing, you would be more careful to say hello to a neighbor one morning and exercise more to keep you feeling the best you can. 

 

A life without a tempting paradise afterwards seems a little less grand, but a lot more worth it. However, as the definition above states that humans use religion to help them explain things that science cannot, it is a cushion for those who cannot bear to be told that death rewards nothing. Sometimes these cushions however, become a cover of clouds that cushions one's entire mind. They think that it is the only way, and that others should believe that way as well. Thus leading to missionary and prejudices against other beliefs. Another mess that would be avoided if the human race had no religion. 

Open Your Eyes World

Society decides the rights and wrongs of this life. How odd that we, as individual people, let it control our lives. We live by the expectations that leaders above us set. We are monkeys doing everything that everyone else does. It's the same revolving pattern, always cycling, never ending. When someone says that humans are habitual creatures, they are certainly right. We go to work every morning, drinking a beverage every morning, try to go jogging every morning, sleep every night, and then wake up every morning to start the cycle over again. Sometimes there are people out there who will stand up and do something new. Maybe begin a new sport, like rock climbing, or do more things past eleven at night.

Or maybe discovering a new way to live. Everyone is married; woman to man. Everyone has sex after they're married; man to woman. Today, people are discovering that whatever feels natural to them, they should pursue. Gay marriages are showing up everywhere, but there are some close-minded people out there who are trying to fight against it. What's the harm in letting people marry man to man? It won't bother your own sheltered families. Sure, it means a lot less converting to the church, but just as the Roman Catholic church had been, religion is slowly beginning to control society. Polygamists have a hard time living in this world, despite them actually being religious and following their churches, because it's DIFFERENT from what people who consider themselves "normal" sees. Teenage sex isn't bad, as long as they are careful and know what they are doing. It isn't "wrong" unless you make it wrong. They are just curious, and wonder what the world has to offer when they are adults. Adults who aren't married have sex as well, and people decide that it is perfectly wrong to do so, even though they are adults and know what they want and what they do to be careful. Adults who have sex even after marriage, but with full consent of their spouse is called polyamory. It's beginning to sprout up everywhere, even though not many sheltered people in especially Utah may not know that.

There will always be new things that come up. People will always find new ways to live their lives and be their own person. No one can look at something and say it's "wrong" when they haven't tried it themselves. Until you know what it feels like, natural or unnatural, people need to open their minds and look at the world with a new outlook. None of this brainwash shit that everyone belonging to some sort of church is going through. You can still have religion in your life, but people take it a little too far. It's become a major aspect in your life, when it's merely to bring comfort to you when you see phenomenal things and explain things that couldn't be explained scientifically. It's to bring warmth in your heart when you are down, and to follow life-lessons that should only be achieved without serious judgment or entire life changes. It's there to guide you when you stray too far off course. It's not there to control your life and tell you what you should or shouldn't do.

You wonder why you get sick of church sometimes.

Realizations, Points, and Fear Conquering: I Am Becoming an Adult

My grandparents stopped by tonight to check out our new house, and I would never have anticipated the things we talked about tonight. First of all, they're anchored deep in the LDS teachings, and I would have expected some hints about the church, as if they were going to remind us that we weren't LDS. Instead, we got caught up in the past, hearing story after story from my grandfather about dates and cars and how he fell in love with Grandma. Of course, it didn't randomly start out like that. In fact, we started talking about their health and what was going on in their lives. Being so old is bound to result in some heart-breaking problems, and they went on to talking about that. They talked about all the medicines and oils they had to take and all their expensive equipment to keep them alive. Grandpa told stories of a poor nurse and the chair being lifted from under him, and it was all pretty cute and funny. It would be funnier had I decided to just ignore those inner thoughts creeping up, but realizations started to pour their liquid fire down on me.

These days, it has become too expensive to even keep yourself alive. People spend thousands of dollars on fancy things that make your feet vibrate, or medicines that don't even help. When you break your arm, you have to pay for an expensive hard cast just so you can suffer with it for six weeks. Some things work, but not every treatment in the world will work. A lot of it could be scams. And a lot of it is advertising. I have this rising doubt that corners me in my dreams and thoughts, and that's the idea of paying for all these things, convinced that they'll work, then having it turn around and kill you, when all you needed was to heal naturally. Your body is an amazing mechanism, and if you can't heal from something, then it's practically stating that your time is up. Instead of getting fake organs, just let yourself go naturally. There will always be a reason to live, whether that be an uncompleted dream, or for hamburgers. Either way, you'll have to accept that you will die, and that knowing you're suffering from something very life-threatening is a good time to come to acceptance. That's why I am going to die naturally, and then be cremated. I won't spend thousands of dollars for something that a poor man living in a shelter home could never dream of having. Nor will I let my family or friends pay thousands of dollars for a stupid decorated casket and an eight foot deep hole where my non-existent body will lie. Who wants to be buried anyway?

I don't, because I'm not sure I will have all the money I dream of having. I know quite a few friends who get a lot of things from their parents. I know quite a few rich friends, and I'm glad I'm raised how I am. I'm thankful that I've learned to work for what I want, and I'm thankful I've developed a determination to get where I want to go.

I have something to say today. It's odd that I choose today, of all days, but I'm sure it won't hurt anyone. I'm tired of keeping this in, and if my parents decide to read this post, then let it be done, but I won't take these words back. I don't like it when someone calls me a teenager. I am one, and I realize this, but I don't need to be reminded every day. I'm usually called one when I do something very teenager-like. Well, I'm not like most teenagers, to be honest, and I'd like people to know that. I'm more of an adult than anything else now. I am working hard at writing a book. I have my own money and buy my own nice things. I've basically decorated my entire room on my own money. Even my bed was partially bought by me. I know how to take my limitations and turn them into something bigger. I have a high tolerance of things, and I can be very patient when I want to. I try not to brag a lot. I have the power to keep myself from whining like a baby. Even though my brother makes a big deal about it, I know when I am bossy, and I know when I am making wise choices, (Like when to go to bed!) I clean without having to be told to, and I can plan and host my own parties and events when I put my mind to it. I know quite a few adults who are tired all the time and don't want to smile. I know quite a few adults who work AND complain when they want. I'm saying this because I do all of that as well, but it doesn't put me into my own category. I'm not love-sick like other teenagers, and I actually have some responsibility, even though my parents are having a hard time to discover that. I say this, because they've given me the sex talk countless numbers of times, and they keep telling me things over and over that dangerously cross the Normal | Intimacy line. I've heard it enough times, and I can make my own decisions about it. I don't necessarily want to hear any more of that, and I'm asking nicely.

I've given you my strengths and weaknesses, but definitely not all of them. This post is titled as such because I've had a fear of confronting my parents and telling them what I've just described above. I'm more scared of my father suddenly getting angry and yelling at me because I've "confronted" him like every young person who "thinks" they're rebellious would do. Well, I know he wouldn't, especially if I write out my feelings in an organized manner and be an adult about this, which I am. In fact, I hope to set an example for every person out there who suddenly changes into a whiny voice when their parents hint that they haven't done the dishes, or tries to put a show on for their friends of how much their parents don't control them. Despite everything I've said, I'm smart, and I realize how much my parents mean to me, and support me. I can't help but bring up a Sunday when my dad yelled at me, just because I was a little irritated at finding a pen for him. I made points that he didn't like while pushed to tears, but I think we were both being a little hot tempered that day. He has made several good points that I've brought into consideration, and I have made points that I feel as if he should bring into consideration. In the following bulletin list, I will point out that my wise father's points are much much more in comparison to my own young, fresh considerations. Fellow readers who don't understand the situation should note that the following will bring you more out of the depth and will bring you good advice for when you get in a fight with an adult.

Karl's View:

• I rely on my parents at this age, because they keep my head well above the water.
• Just because I buy things with my own money, doesn't mean I can't share them with a good attitude.
• I am making a fit when I do not need to. I should appreciate what my parents do for me, and I should contribute a lot more after all they work for.
• I should show complete respect to those above me for not only times like this, but always, and should not look down on others.
• Like all teenagers do, we have egos that push us to do things we don't have to do, like rebel against things that jerk our sensitive hormones, and we should resist against those or at least think about them before hand.
• I should get more sleep on the weekends, because I'm obviously in a cranky mood, especially on Sundays. 
• I should quit butting in when it isn't my problem, and I should keep a calm attitude when it comes to lending pens. 
•  I should certainly think before I say things, because it can become a problem.

My View:

• I do rely on my parents, but I need to develop my own individual and learn how to do things on my own.
• When you become angry about something, or even irritated, you should calm down before you confront a new problem, especially if it's someone who was peacefully reading on the couch.
• I can hear mom getting upset about the pen situation, but I know when to interfere with a pissed off mother, and when not to. I have a very good judgment on when to include myself. (Unless I just want to piss off Tyler even more)
• I'm not like all teenagers who whine and cry, and you should know that, so you shouldn't have to bring that card up with me. 
• I contribute a lot. Especially when mom is working or when you go out on dates. The boys are probably sick of me, because I'm always telling them what they should or shouldn't do when it comes up. (Chores for example, sleeping, reading, video games, etc.)
• Just because a pen is missing and you want one to write a shopping list, you shouldn't have to get angry and start yelling. You should calmly assess the situation and interrogate the household members calmly without accusing, and ask for ideas or suggestions. We have some bright kids in this house. 

Now I admit, I have a problem when it comes to holding grudges. I can't easily forget small things like this that really questions me and what I have done. I think it's more about guilt I feel for what had happened than anything else, but it leads me to think about things deeper, and after I have written it out, or discussed it, or even thought deeper on it without letting my anger get out of control, I feel a lot better about it and leave it in the past. It's a weakness I struggle with, and I'm sure I'll struggle with it for a very long time. However, it's these sort of things that teach me how to make my writing and characters stronger. What I feel, what I discover or think about, will most certainly reflect in my characters and stories. I think that's what really makes a writer, and that's what I'm hoping will help me become famous someday. I really have to thank my father for helping me come up with those points, and I will make note that they really help me become a better person.

I do have a preference for calm discussions rather than you yelling at me and making me cry. I am still a female, and I am sensitive. I will cry when my big daddy is yelling at me because I have made a mistake. It is a guilt thing.

Dissecting New Knowledge

An unfortunate matter has arisen. The title...I'm afraid to admit...is correct. I dissected a rat today. Not a frog, but a rat, and only Drew, out of Brett and Kaylynn and him, helped me dissect it. Earlier in the year I was the only one who dissected the owl pellet as well. Kaylynn will deny this tremendously, but my mom said that Brett and her were wusses because they didn't want to touch the rat. :P It wasn't as bad as it looked, especially when there isn't blood anywhere and only watery guts. Oh let me tell you, those intestines were very interesting. It makes me wonder what MY intestines look like. Probably bloody if you dissected me this very moment. Gross. Anyway, the skin was easier to get off than the muscle on the legs. That muscle took us forever, and we were super far behind the other lab groups by then. So we never got to poke out the eyes or see the brain. It's a shame, really, because I was looking forward to that part. Oh but we did get to see the diaphragm, lungs, and heart. I believe Drew found the Esophagus, and I a turd within the confines of a large intestine. Oddly enough, that was what grossed me out more, not the many lobes of a brown liver or the bright red of the kidneys. Oh those intestines were long. I can hardly imagine having twenty two feet of intestines in my own body. Anatomy, I discovered, is pretty fun to learn about. So I guess it's good I'm taking Physiology in tenth grade.

Because Drew and I dissected, I felt more of a man today, and decided I might as well read Romeo's part in English rather than Juliet's. Juliet is a wuss. So I'd much rather be a man. Although, the pictures of a play that accompanied the play read in our books had an ugly Romeo. It didn't matter, I used my manly voice to read with. Praise Hallelujah! Praise Allah! Praise the Lord of All Aardvarks in the Sky! Today has succeeded.

So, referring back to my post a couple weeks back, I decided I'm going to continue writing "Stars Don't Fall/Wvern's Destruction". Because I'm not getting anywhere with "A Search for the King" currently, and I suddenly felt this random pull towards the previous story. Don't ask me why, but I believe it was because of Three Days Grace. I listen to them, and I reflect on their lyrics, and for some reason, their sound, his voice, the music, the lyrics, it all fits with my fantasy story. They have love songs, they have rebellion songs, they have plain old beat-the-hell-out-of-you songs, and they most certainly have evil villain songs that I like. Bwahaha! I think "On My Own" by TDG is the best connection to my story, because it  brings out Cyran's personality so well, I can't even wrap my head around it. As well as Cyran's journey traveling and leaving McKenzie, then coming back and finding she was gone, and then he was alone with no one in this world, considering his evil brother left to take over the world and the love of his life disappeared because of his brother. Ha. It's great!

Anyway, I'll let you go. I don't like the word Dissect, I discovered. And I most certainly don't like it as a title for this post. Oh well.

Dear John

No, it's not an original title from me, it's a movie....and a good movie that jerked horrendous, ugly-Mindy-making tears from my otherwise impervious attitudes towards romances. This will be a big spoiler to those who haven't seen it, so if you haven't seen it, and you really want to...it's on instant Netflix at my house. ;) Okay, anyway, I must admit, it was a pretty good romance. However, it wasn't the kisses or the leaving each other so John could go to the army, it was the other characters. Allan. And his Dad. Both Autistic, but I never realized how much I could cry for them. The mood was just perfect, touching me at the right moments, and with John getting shot, and him reading his last letter to his father, I swear I could barely see the TV screen through my tears. Ugh. Sorry, because it's over, and I'm on to happier topics with my writing...sorta...well, if you count blood and guts spewing all over a battlefield...anyway, since then, I've been feeling a little slap-happy. Like my change in moods are overbearing and uncontrollable. Is this how bipolar people feel? I wish no offense to them, I'm merely curious. I have an open mind that sort of flies everywhere without stopping to think if it would be rude to someone or whatever. Jeez. I can't spell tonight. I mean, it may look perfect, but really, I've been typing, deleting, fixing, typing, getting tired of deleting, using the cursor, deleting, typing....Yeah. Anyway, I don't know what else to write, considering there is nothing more to actually talk about, so I wish you all a happy Friday, wherever you may be...unlike me....sitting at home watching gushy romances for a Friday night...alone....wow. I need a life.

A Strange, Strange World

When you think about it, it truly is a strange world. All the things I learn about in school now has me thinking deeper, and beyond things I need to think about. Take bacteria for instance. The fact that they will cause you to get sick and have a miserable day at school isn't something you want to dwell on; merely a fact. So when you do go to school, knowing you've awaken with a sore throat and a runny nose, and you have a bad day, you should blame the bacteria. Not your friends, or your teachers, or the name of the day (Wednesday), or Utah's bipolar weather; but bacteria. Those little cells that get anywhere into your body are the ones that have caused you this pain. I just can't believe how many there are on this planet, or how many can be deadly. Don't you assimilate? I can't simply say "School sucks". No, I must deeply think about things before I can say anything about my condition, but only when I have the energy to do it. Right now, I can just say "Yeah, I'm sick, leave me alone" and be done with it.

You see? They are gross and tiny and ugly and misery-causing. As of right now I am sniffing up a headache, and have already taken stupid nasal pills and ibruprofen to keep me happy. No dice. I'm still in a sour mood, and it's all because of a crappy day at school. I'm sure people noticed too, but almost resistance-free of doing something, my don't care attitude, and my lacking in conversation. Yes, that is what happens when I'm depressed or sick. But people, amazingly, won't let it go. No. I have to always be happy. I must always be cheerful and optimistic. Today was my free day to just feel ugh, and I had a good excuse to back me up. It's a good thing my voice sounded sick, otherwise people wouldn't believe me and keep telling me to "Be happy" or "stop being sick". Hey! Another devilish thing about bacteria. They'll only leave when they want, or until your immune system zaps them away, which still takes a while. Blarg. I hate life. It's full of unsatisfying things. Things like murder and pain, homework and boredom, fatness when eating pleasurable foods, sicknesses and diseases, dominating plans over plans you want, pessimistic people, socially awkward people, aggravating people, people in general... temptations, gross hygiene, work, uncomfortable beds, annoying commercials, bad media, unfortunate news, heavy textbooks, slow computers, undefinable actions stupid people do, coldness, cold rain, not having a way to get somewhere except walking five miles, judging extended family members, religion, mo-mo's, sending a text and the person not getting it, Lima beans, Chihuahuas, school, batteries dying on you, Styrofoam, glitchy video-games, broken trampolines, annoying chatterboxes, people who use grammar wrong, people who don't want to read my writings, people who are snobby rich men, being poor, and last, but not least, to conclude my sparsly summarized displeasures of life, People Who Crack Any Body Part. It is the most nastiest thing a person can do, and the most bone-chilling thing for me to listen to. It's like cracking your inner bones like glow sticks. It's not right!!! It's so messed up and gross. I hate it!

Blah. I dislike a ton of stuff. That paragraph was very very short for a list of things I don't find satisfaction in. I only truly hate one thing in this lifetime, and that is indeed body-part cracking. I was tortured today in first period by this kid who sits next to me. It's like every time Mr. Earling turns off that damn light, this stupid kid has to crack his knuckles. Let me tell you right now; the cracks could practically be gunshots. It can't possibly be normal for his finger knuckles to be that loud and that messed up. I would like to tell him how I hate it so, but I barely know the kid, and I can't just lean over and say "Yo, your knuckle-cracking is gross, and I don't want you doing it." A nicer sentence would still be mean. So all I can do now is sit and plug my ears until it's over, knowing that with every loud, gunshot-like crack, the guy is messing up not only my ears, but his body. Eeuughyyuucckk. It's soooo gross...

Looking Back and Rethinking

I went to a writer's conference at school today, during last period which was geography. Yes, I missed a test, but I'll do it soon. It's not like I can't take it tomorrow during cavetime. :P Anyway, Jessica Day George came, author of Dragon Slippers and a few other books. Basically she told us her adventure of becoming an author and what it took for her to do it. She also made it clear to us that in order to write a good book, you need to write about what you love. You can't just do something depressing if you aren't a depressing person. Neither can you write something long and complicated when you're an easy person. All you really need to do is look at what you like to do, what you like to read, what you like to write about, and incorporate all of it into a story that you, as a reader, would like to read and write about. You can't write anything unless you enjoy writing it. That's my simple solution.

So. What should I do about my supposed "Novel" I've been trying to write for a year? Wvern's Destruction is basically about a world-wide war threatening genocide on several different races. Particularly humans. The problem for me is, usually for a first draft, it shouldn't take a year to write it. Granted, I've been busy and distracted, but if I really love writing, then why can't I work hard at this? I love the fantasy and sci-fi, like Lord of the Rings and Star Wars. I love to think about elves and dwarves. The problem is, I've already played out this story with online friends, so why repeat it? I'm getting tired of it, per se. So I want to think of a different story that I'll really love, and try again.

First, I need to figure out what it is I really do like to do. Jessica Day George liked knitting and dragons and Norwegian Languages. She found a great way to incorporate all of that into her books. Now I just need to figure it out for myself, to make my story unique.

I like romances, but not when I get too much of it at one time, otherwise I get really really sick of it. I like the small romances, something like a kiss and a certain liking for someone. I like it when they're equal and can help each other through something like a real relationship would, and sometimes...I like it when the guy saves the girl and they live happily ever after. I love big dogs. Particularly Golden Retrievers and German Shepherds. I like a sci-fi fantasy setting, or something in the future with a cool girl. I hate it when the girls are wimpy, but I don't want the girl to be too cool, because I need room for a main guy. I also don't like it when it's in a girl's perspective and I'm a girl author. It's just...yeah. [Not] All female authors make their lead character female, and I just want to be different. I've always been fascinated with history, particularly World Wars and World Civilizations. I love Geography too, so I'm sort of like a social studies nerd. I like grapes. I don't know how that could work with a novel, but sure, why not?

I love my cousin and I love being with her, and a long time ago, my cousin and I came up with a little story, mostly inside jokes, between us. She asked me, one day, about how it would be like if we changed up those characters and actually put them into a real, legit story instead of our crazy "realistic" story. So we began brainstorming, and we came up with an idea that we really liked. It was a futuristic setting about a country lost in it's own civil war. I began to write about it, because I thought it was so cool. But after nine chapters I began to slow down and lose interest in it, because the way I was thinking felt stupid to me. So I gave up, and yes, it hurt both of us.

I think you know where this is going. I want to start it again, and add some of my own likings to it to make it exciting and popular. If I'll like it, and if my cousin will like it (Which, for the record, she's not a reading person, so that's a big score) and if my dad likes it, then I'm sure I'm on the right track. That's what I want to do. To be frank, I don't know about Wvern's Destruction. I put a lot into it, but I was just never certain. I mean, I created a huge country for Geography and stuff, and I put meaning and value of that country into my story, and I thought I was doing really good, but I didn't know how to do the point of views, and there were just too many characters, and their names were messed, and it's modern but I tried to make it medieval fantasy, and it just didn't work. I'll probably pick it up again later in life, but for now, I want to start fresh and try again. I'm still not sure if using a plot outline will work, or if I should just wing it, because neither proved to help me in the past, so I'm uncertain of how to start it and see what will happen. I think I need another sleepover with my cousin. ;)

Anyway, that's my supposed goal now. Along with writing short stories, but I don't think I'll get my 36 Plot Line resolution completed this year. It is a lot of short stories, and a lot of time. So I think I'll just keep reading whatever I can and begin this new Idea.

Decided

Looking at this old house, and having been in it for six years, made me think. Yes, I'm moving. We won't be moving into a house this big, because we don't have enough money right now, but I figured I'm just going to have to live with it. I have a secured place to go for a little while until school ends, and that's with my best friend, so I feel a lot better. I want to spend as much time with her as possible, and that's just what I'll do. I gave up a boyfriend, a dog, a lot of my junk I wanted to keep, and a bad attitude about moving. It's a fact of life. In fact, I'm more frightened by the idea of moving out than just relocating right now, so it'll be alright. The most comforting piece of information, however, is what Kaylynn told me. She goes to her dad's every other Saturday (Unless there's a tournament) and he lives in Orem. Hey, I'm moving to Orem. Fancy that! During the summer, we can hang out too, and I'm thinking about dragging Kaylynn with me to the new house so she can help me unpack and set up my room, just how I want it. All in all, she won't be totally gone, and I admit, I was being dramatic a little bit. Sometimes though, I just have to let those emotions out anyway. The important thing is that now I'm okay with this, and that I'm going to go with my head held high.

You know what I've always wanted to do with my bedroom downstairs? Paint it Lime Green, Orange, and Yellow. Geometric figures added. Have a shower curtain hanging from my loft bed. Have mutli-colored lights. I've always wanted a room like that, just so I could go there and feel like myself. I don't want to be dark and emo, even if that's how I feel sometimes. It's the bright colors that inspires my writings, and it's my writings that are the most important. I want brightly colored pillows for my black chair, and I want a comforter and bed set for my full bed that is just as brightly colored. I don't know about the walls, but I'm sure I can do that now, or at least lick the top of the cone to get that taste. I'll save up more money, go all out with my bedroom. If only I had a house we've bought, and that we'll be in for a while. Oh well.

The biggest concern, despite the new bedroom, is the lack of bathrooms. I wish I could have my own complete bathroom,all to myself, without the boys there. Most houses on a 2400 sq. ft. plan have 2-3 baths. One for the master. One for the rest of the whole darn house. How could that be fair anyway? If we do only get one bathroom for us kids, I'm spending as little time in there as I can. Shower, teeth, that's it. I'll do hair and makeup in my room, like I usually do here. It's frustrating, especially when you have to improvise a vanity and desk all in one. I don't really have a desk. It's more like a weird computer desk with no leg room and a long, broken body mirror behind it. I hate it. I want a new desk. It's freaking heavy too! I hope we get to throw it away. Far far away. Away from civilization. *Sigh* I wish I had money.

Giving Him Up

I am watchful and trustworthy

I am strong and energetic

I am reckless and curious

I am scared but loving

My beauty is unforgettable

My memories are never enough

But when you cry

Just know that I'll be fine.

Who Am I?

                                               -Mindy Christen

I watched my dog drive away today. I was strong while we forced him into the small car with the nice woman. I was strong while they gazed upon his beautiful golden fur. I was strong while they talked of spoiling him. I was even strong when I watched his gentleness towards the toddler who petted him. The problem was, as I watched them close the door on my frightened dog, watched him slowly get used to the inside of the car, watched the car turn on and pull away from the curb, I broke. I doubt I'll see him for a while if they decide to keep him. Sure, I'll be given chances to go see how he's doing...but will that be good for me? To see him happy in the care of even better owners? I don't think I'll be strong enough to see him eat from the other food, to see him run around a fenced in yard. What if, by that time, he doesn't remember me? He doesn't remember his brother...So I cry for him: for my broken attachment to him, for Tyler, who refuses to be sad that he is gone, for those days when I won't be able to look out the window and listen to his barks. Sure, he was annoying, and maybe we didn't play with him as much as he should, but it was always comforting to know that he was out there, watching. It took the neighbors two years to finally get used to him. They were so scared of him, but soon, each one became braver and braver, each taking turns to pet his big blocky head. He was pure bred, come from a long line of healthy, perfect golden retrievers. He was perfect for a show dog. He was beautiful. His fur was so soft and golden. 

It wasn't just the physical aspects though. I swear, Hondo had a personality no dog I've ever seen had. He always bowed his head and laid on the ground when my parents and I came out to greet him. If it was one of the boys, he would just jump around and try to greet their faces. He was scared of water. Anytime someone would sprinkle water on him, or the hose flipped on, immediately he would be cowering away in the corner of the yard, limited by his long chain. His baths were difficult, because he'd get cold with the water and wouldn't sit still sometimes, but other times, like later in his young life, he would just sit still and wait for it to be over, because he knew we would just keep him there until we were satisfied. Every time the neighbors would come out to play, Hondo would bark at them and want desperately to get in on the fun, just to maybe chase them around. But by the time we let him off, his mind would switch gears and he'd play with another dog or go exploring in the neighbor's flowers. Whenever we introduced him to something new, however, he would shake with terror, because he was scared. You'd think a big dog like him wouldn't be scared, but he is so sensitive and shaky that he would just tremble in fear until it was over. He was always scared of going into the house, even though he knew it was warm inside. I had to hold him for five minutes inside the laundry hall, and during those five minutes, he just shook and shivered. I kept my voice low and soothing, until I let him back into the garage. He never likes the car, because we didn't ever take him anywhere in a car. So we usually had to lift him into the car before he'd calm down. When I blow dried his wet fur though, he was shaking and trembling so hard, that David had to keep petting him and telling him it would be okay, even though I had it on Low-Warm. I thought he would have liked the warmth, but he's too much of a Utah dog for that. He can survive the cold. 

So now, he's off with the nice nice lady, probably having a blast with the wind in his face. All I can do now, is accept that there is an empty pen outside, a loose chain with no dog attached to it, and an unoccupied water bowl sitting in the sun. 

I'm sad he's gone.

My Own Little World

I ran out of fingers. I can't count the number of times I've wanted to disappear. Go somewhere else, where no one will miss me, where no one can tell me what to do. I can be who I want, and no one can stop me except for my frickin awesome bad guy villain! Whom I defeat in the end. Right now, he's taking form as problems in my life, a depressing shadow that looms over me. It's difficult when you don't have the powers in this reality to destroy those annoying things. I want two swords, a dagger, and a bow and quiver. That way I can slice the crap out of my villain and save the day, get the guy, and live happily ever after. If only. My dream guy is amazing, you know, but you'd never find him in real life. My dream appearance is NEVER going to happen. (Yes, I dream of being prettier than I am....I. hate. my. red. hair.) The world I dream about is fiction. And only fiction. Suddenly, just writing to my heart content about it isn't helping. I so desperately wish it were real. For some reason, I feel like I'm going schizophrenic. Save me! Not really...I love this world, no one should save me from something that is way better than the real world. Even computer or music doesn't help me. I want the real thing...even though I never will.

Sometimes I feel like a wimp. Sensitive. Babyish. Because I don't like pain. It's true, I'd rather be healthy than hurt and bleeding, because I don't like the pain I feel. Even the tiniest little cut bothers me, and whenever I complain, people (mostly parents...) say I need to suck it up and that I'm being a wimp...That's why I lie all the time if I get her. "Hey are you--" Thwack! "OH MY GOSH! IM SO SORRY! Are you okay?!" "Yeah yeah, just great..." Not really.... And you know, sometimes I get hurt but it doesn't hurt at all, and I feel like complaining to get sympathy, even though it doesn't hurt. I've never actually faked anything, but sometimes it heals faster than intended or something like that. Oh well. That's how I feel whenever somebody tells me I'm a wuss. Mindy 101: I don't like pain....but sometimes I'll hurt myself anyway.

You're probably wondering why I talked about that. Well, it's because that in my world, there are lots of battles, fantasy battles, (Nerdy, I know) with magic and swords and spears and stuff. (Flying Dragons too...) Anyway, if I were to be inserted into it, I can't be wussy like I am now. I've had such a comfortable life, and it shames me, because that means my descendants will have comfortable lives too, and no one will know how to survive when the world ends!!! .... Shame is a funny word when you think about it. Say it really slowly. Tee hee....

Hmmm

Often I wonder about random things, like maybe why the sky really is blue, and why it can't be hot pink. Or like why technology has to be so frustrating sometimes instead of just being nice and letting me do something I want to do. You know? Right now I'm wondering why my brothers can't be quiet. I mean, is it really physically impossible for them to just sit still on the couch and never say a word until my headache is gone? No. I so wish. I often wonder to myself why shopping takes so much from my mom. It saddens me, because it tires her easily when I feel like strutting a whole entire mall!!! I also wonder why I can't have 1,000,000 dollars of spending money. Dear Father Whom Rains Aardvarks....I wish.

Lust and Loathing....Loving and Hating....There is a difference!

A difference indeed, and that difference is that....Lust and Loathe are extremities compared to today's Love and Hate. Why do I bring this up? Because it is Valentine's day. 02-14-2011. February 14, 2011. The fourteenth day of the second month of the two thousandth and eleventh year. My fifteenth Valentine's day. My first Valentine's day with someone who wants to be mine. A Valentine's day where I feel normal: Not mushy-gushy, and not drearily hateful of the holiday.

Valentines day has nothing to report.

Life's Recipe

Life's Recipe

2 cups Self-Image
2 cups Attitude
1 cup Individuality
2 tsp. Spirituality
4 Emotions
2 tsp. Experience
2 tsp. Self-Esteem
5 cups Wisdom

Add ins: 2 cups Memories and Thoughts


Cream together Self-Image, Attitudes, Individualities, and Spirituality for a long time. Give yourself a few years at the start, and you'll become perfect and creamy on the inside. It's a little like creating your personality. Add Emotions to make you a little more human and in tune to the world you belong in. Blend your personalities and emotions well. Mix in Experience and Self-Esteem. Gradually add Wisdom as it blends. As the years keep spinning, your being begins to be added to. Add a little Memories and Thoughts with a wooden spoon to spice up yourself and make the journey a bit more yummier and hard working. To become rich and full with new taste and preparation for the adulthood ahead of you. You preheat your future path ahead of you, but for the next 10-12 years, let life bake you to the test, so see if what you're made of is strong enough to handle the pressure and battles. When it's over, pull yourself away from the high life and settle down in the country to cool off and live the rest of your life before death. You're still steamy and warm though, and that's what other people want in order to embrace you for the sweet treat you are.

Yields: 100 lives

Time to compare this recipe with my Grandma's basic Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe.

Chocolate Chip Cookies

2 cups Shortening
2 cups Brown Sugar
1 cup Sugar
2 tsp. Vanilla
4 Eggs
2 tsp. Baking Soda
2 tsp. Salt
5 cups Flour

Add ins: 2 cups Chocolate Chips


Cream shortening, sugars, and vanilla together. Cream for a long time until fluffy and pale for more texture and taste. Add eggs, blend well. Add dry ingredients, gradually add flour. Mix in Chocolate Chips with a wooden spoon.  Preheat Oven 375 degrees. Bake 10-12 minutes.


Yields: 100 cookies


--Mindy Christen

Terminating Drama

So I decided something.



My friends should all be replaced by bland blobs that are grey. You know why? Yes, I'm sure you do. With every single extra varying personality comes some sort of Drama. Believe me when I say that, and I'm sure my readers have experienced this also. You have to admit though, if one friend wasn't so hyper or loud, then maybe you wouldn't be in a cookie theft epidemic. Just saying. If my friends were all blobs, I bet you anything that any boyfriend crap, girlfriend crap, depression, drama queen crap, stressed-out-banana crap, prejudice, judgments, and dirty thoughts would all be GONE. GONE GONE GONE! I wouldn't have to stress out when I have an upcoming test and I can't study because my friend over here is being stupid, while this friend over here is heartbroken, and that friend over there is pulling away from me... You see why they should be mindless grey blobs? They wouldn't have feet to kick me with, or arms to strangle or POKE me with, they would all have perfect, straight, white teeth. They would all be grey because that's a boring color, which will go with they zombie like boring minds. They will all be bald, so no one worries about hair-doing or appearance. They will not have facial blemishes except for oozing blobness that they will naturally all have. They will not care about how they feel, look, or see things, and they will ALL listen to me when I have problems. They will be my blobby pets, awaiting requests from me for their service of listening and being boring. They will all have pencils so they can write down in sloppy handwriting what I tell them to write. Say I'm in a writing mood, yet I don't want to actually type or write anything. I'll make them do it, then read it back to me in a monotonous voice. Yes, I very much like this idea. At lunch they will sit around me and eat averagely medium-speed so that we will neither be early, nor late for next class. They will all have the same classes as me, so I will not feel left out.

And to be honest, I'd have a TON of blobby friends....(I can't stop making friends >.<)


But I have also decided something.



My friends should all stay the same and never change. You know why? Yes, I'm sure you do. Because with every little detail that makes up every little personality, I find that I love them more and more for who they are. Each and every little quirk is smiled upon by me, even if that means having to deal with crap that comes from that tiny little quirk. The boyfriend crap, girlfriend crap, depression, drama queen crap, stressed-out-banana crap, prejudice, judgments, and dirty thoughts are all what makes up my life with my friends. I'll never escape it, and I'll never want to escape it. You know the friend being stupid over here? Or this friend that's heartbroken over here? Or maybe that friend that's breaking away from me over there? I don't mind, because it's that sort of thing that will make me think to myself and say, "Hey, that's how they are. I either accept it, or go through more drama to prevent it." My choice. Of course, the drama is what will stress me out and make me question who I am and what I'm doing, but I believe that this is how it's suppose to be. Me and my cousin both are going through this. So I won't have it any other way. That's how I want all my friends to feel. One might not like the way she looks, and one might not give a crap on how he looks. Another might be too loud and obnoxious for too many to handle, while another is mellow and quiet and hard to talk to. Either way, I'm the balancing fulcrum between the two weights. Dramatic times and Desirable friendships. However, this lever system is simple and will always be used, so wish me luck, because I'm taking a plunge into a new attitude and embracing my friends the way they are, no matter what.

Besides....you can only take so much of me at a time anyway.

The Reality

Monday. First day of the school week, a pain when trying to wake up from a warm, sleep filled weekend, and the King of Stupidness when it comes to attitude and friends.

To be honest, my weekend sucked. My friends were with me Friday night, but I still didn't have a good weekend. Superbowl was on Sunday. I still didn't have a good weekend. I went quite a few days missing my boyfriend and wondering if Kaylynn and Brett were doing okay, and I didn't expect Monday to be so stupid because of it. For one thing: My wrist hurts like crazy, in many different spots. Sore, sharp, whatever. I got "Oh no, what happened?" Or "What did you do to your arm?" all day long, and every time I'd have to tell my skiing incident again and again. But that wasn't a big thing. It was just some news I got that affected everybody around me. I know, it sounds like I'm being mean and saying I wasn't affected, but you won't believe how deeply that hurt me, all because Kaylynn wasn't feeling her best today. Yeah, that's how much I love her. It was just that....I didn't want to be depressed all day, because I woke up with high spirits. Whenever that happens to me, I feel hyper and fun, "Frisky" as Kaylynn would put it, and I couldn't change that.

But the consequences weren't considered "bad" to people who didn't know me. For me, I felt like my mood was ruining me, even though people would do anything to have that sort of mood. I felt out of the loop. There was really nothing I could do. So I was in a good mood, but my boyfriend, my best friend, a few other friends, and a few teachers were all pressing on me and making me feel far away. You know, off in my little world...all alone. Where is everyone?

You know those moments, where you want to help someone, but all you can really do is give them words? Words....that probably just float through their ears and don't faze them at all. It's those times that I feel helpless and useless. Like, my presence has no meaning to anybody. I feel it everyday. Today in PE, Kaylynn probably hugged Drew a ton, and she took comfort in that.....do my hugs give her comfort? Or are they just a quick wrapping of limbs around body? But it's not just about Kaylynn's problem, or what she thinks. I don't care about that. The question for me, is if ANYONE takes comfort in what I try to say or do. Anyone I try to comfort....I can't. When a friend of mine had boyfriend problems, asking me to help her, I didn't know what to do or tell her. I had never had experience with that kind of hurt she was feeling, All I knew was movies and books, and those aren't even close to real life emotions, because it's all fake. So when she wanted me to help her stop crying, all she received was silence: a painful, contemplative silence from me. How was I suppose to help her? My cousin Rachel has different, stressful problems and I had never experienced what she was, although I understood. That's all I could tell her. I understand. I don't know any quick "forget this whole incident" potion. I had nothing really to help her with. So what if everyone you love and know needs support from you? But you only have so much to say...

Sometimes I'm convinced that what I tell them doesn't help at all, even if they tell me it helps a lot. It probably doesn't help physically or motivationally, maybe not even mentally, because I can't. I just can't figure it out. Peacemaker? Ha. More like a troubled in between person. It's not them that needs help.

It's me.

A Roller Coaster

So how come whenever I am happy, everyone else around me slips away and feels emotions nothing close to mine? I know that it's something weird to think about, but it depresses me. A few months ago, or sometime around that time period, I fell into a depression that I classify as light and not too damaging to my over-all personality. With that depression, my closest friends were happy and trying to get me to be happy.

Now, with a new boyfriend, food in my stomach, and a sudden toleration for school hours....I have friends with problems and pulling away from me. Or at least that's how I feel. My cousin is undergoing some stress and depression, my friend is unsatisfied with relationships, my other friend is not doing so well with their outlook on life, my other friend is having boy troubles, my other friend doesn't know what girl he wants....yes, if you guys are reading this, you KNOW who you are, and what your problem is in the eyes of someone NOT you. I don't mean to sound rude, but it's a true fact. It brings your friends down when you feel horrible.

Sometimes there's nothing you can do about how you feel, and I get that, but you're only choice is to stay close to your friends and let them be sad with you. I HATE being happy with sad friends surrounding me. I'd rather us all be happy, but if I can't have that, I'll be sad too.

Also, people in our gym class should learn to play volleyball better. Just saying.

Over and Out!
<3 Mindy

Little Moments that Add Up

I stared at the glass, trying to guess my fate. Inside was swirling water, and it made me dizzy. Which way would my life turn? Could I predict it? The future was impossible to see, but I told myself there was one way. The water in the glass began to slow down, creating a tornado of murky brown water within the crystalline walls of the glass. The water that I thought was pure, was soiled and rotten instead; and I knew why. My past wasn't all diamonds and parties. It wasn't my pride and joy. My past was unspeakable, and I was afraid that at this moment, watching the water ooze into blood, that I would have to admit to the murder I had done. 

We all tend to look back at what we have done. We all want to be modest and say that our pasts weren't as special as we wanted them to be, but we also just want to say our lives sucked and that we can't move on from what was. I wrote the passage above from the top of my head, and I used a glass analogy. To me, glasses represent the wall that supports our four -alities. Spirituality, Mentality, Physicality, and Emotionality. The water within the glass, is the sensitive heart. A heart poked and prodded, added to and taken away from. This heart should be balanced throughout our lives, yet we can't seem to control this balance. We give away our keys to balance and let someone else hold it rather than ourselves. For all we know, this person could abuse our key and steal away our heart. The murky brown water in the passage was this girl's heart, beat up and abused, but only because she believed it was her fault. She blamed it on her past, in a way to make it her fault. She believed that it was her past that set her on this course of life, the reason she ended up the way she was.

I was fifteen when it had happened. It was an influence I could only blame myself for. A good friend of mine led me to a boy I thought I would be with forever. I never realized how greedy I was. I didn't just want him, but I wanted her happiness, and I wanted everyone to be content. I found out the hard way that teenage drama wasn't going to end lightly. After I thought I wanted him, I found that he was too desperate, and found that my head was more clear than I took for granted. I experienced a hatred for the boy that wanted my dignity, and I blamed it on my friend. She didn't understand how important it was to me to get back at her. She thought I was joking. If I would have known about the glass then, I wouldn't have done it. But I did it anyway. It wasn't a physical murder, like some would expect. But to me, it was a gore I wished never to have seen. I watched her everyday, and everyday her makeup would smear a little more. Her friends would turn their noses up at her, and everyday, her back slouched a little farther. It wasn't long until my goal was accomplished, and the bright girl I used to know was a walking ghost, waiting for that moment to see the light. A light that I would never let her see. 

You wonder how our character could have become so evil in such a short passage. Words could not explain the months she went through. Words would never be able to tell her story casually. She let her glass heart bubble and boil to the point of breaking. Her glass began to leak. The four -alities were thrown into a balance far too unhealthy for such a person to go through. Her case was rare, her hormones and condemnation were impervious to the tidal waves that tried to tame her. She let her friend take her key, and she had to get her key back. Our minds, however, go to much more extremes to obtain this goal than we think. The importance of getting our key back is part of human survival. We were born to be independent and controlling. Some people, however, are beyond the point of no return.

No one knew what had happened to her, but as a few years go by, I found myself slowly healing from such a drama. People tell me it wasn't my place to believe that. I had a new friend, one who had troubles with herself and others. A specific other, was her best friend, a guy with a pyromaniac label. My friend worried for her guyfriend, and I was insulted. She came to me for help, and I tried my best, but jealousy flooded in. I decided to talk to him, against my friend's wishes, and I found myself trembling in anger from the stubborn attitude he had. He threatened to take away my life if I ever tried to intervene again. I didn't take this lightly. If I had known about the glass then, I wouldn't have done what I had. I would have known that my murky water would be turning red with hate, and my glass will have another added crack. I probably wouldn't have cared. Such a threat to me was like a nuclear bomb destroying the world. That time, it was my world. 

 Drama Queen, some would label her. Except it was more than that. Her heart could only take so much insult, so much pain. Everyone could agree, if they had to give up their own pure hearts for such an experience. It wasn't fair for such a girl to go through such a trial. With trial, came error, and with error, came wisdom, but our protagonist didn't know this then. In fact, our antagonist, in which case, was her off-balanced self, used this under-assimilated experience of hers to turn everything against her. It was her murky glass that decided to finally break.

I considered a new path, something not as hard for both myself, and others around me. For it was obvious that I was a problem that needed an evaluation. Both my heart and my mind told me to take the knife and end it here. Here--the life that I worked so hard to achieve, but failed. Here, I was nothing but a lost person with a winding path into an abyss. I didn't know what I was going to see or meet below, but the last thing I would want was to meet someone just like me. 

And that was what happened to our character. She found that person, but it wasn't by taking her own life. A little mirror sat in the corner of her heart, reflecting everything, being the lifeline that let her thoughts hesitate and consider what she was doing. That mirror within her formed a new glass for her heart with a gamble of her life, and it was that gamble that brought our character out of the darkness. She sought out help, instead of trying to be completely alone. Her soul was a restless feather, being blown every which way, but she found refuge in the last place she would have thought of. Home.

I stared at the glass, trying to guess my fate. Inside was swirling water, and it made me dizzy. Which way would my life turn? Could I predict it? The future was impossible to see, but I told myself there was one way. The water in the glass began to slow down, creating a tornado of murky brown water within the crystalline walls of the glass. But this time...I willed it to settle into a lake of sparkling beauty. 

The End 

Judgments, Stereotypes, and Prejudice

So when you sit in class, learning about history, and thinking back on great events that not only happened in America, but all over the world, you think that most of it is caused by war. The hunger for war that resides in the human being. Not only does war contribute, but in my opinion, social statuses, judgments, prejudice, and stereotypes affect everyday life also.

For example: You walk into a grocery store and see an obese woman shopping in pajamas. What would you automatically think? "Oh, she eats too much McDonalds, stay at home mom, poor, the usual." Yeah, that's what you'd think immediately, don't lie to yourself. Now take a very nerdy looking kid with big glasses, braces, and a pocket protector. "Classical Nerd" is what you'd think. Well what if I tell you that this woman, after getting to know her, is a professional photographer for nature. She has work hours that go way too long for her to count, and so when she can be on her own, she prefers to be comfortable. Would you wear pajamas in public if you were given the chance? Now this nerd you saw walk by, what if I told you he was on a baseball team, with a few B's and a heredity disorder? Would you stop and consider it now?

Appearance isn't everything. Behavior counts. Personality, emotional situations, and manners are the things that really get you inside a person. It's a pet peeve of mine for people to look at me and think, "Oh she looks weird" or "Just a little too hyper for my taste." you never know, I could be jacked up on high exploding sugary candy. (I've been known to do that before.) Like I said before in my teenager post, I wear big shoes, converses, vans, whatever, with skinny jeans, dark eyeliner, and dark hair. Doesn't mean I'm a bad person who swears every sentence and only cares about herself.

What I'm trying to say is, when you have a chance to be in a public place, take a minute and observe your surrounding. I challenge you to look at someone, study their outward behavior and appearance, and say to yourself, "I cannot judge him until I know him." Do not think "Oh dear, emo kid." or "Oh good golly, an annoying cheerleader" because, believe it or not, most cheerleaders are snobby, but there are some really really great people out there that just happen to enjoy wearing or doing something. So make that a goal for 2011. Don't judge.

And don't be prejudice. You've gone too long knowing about our civil rights history for America, but really think about that if you still happen to hold a grudge. Because we're still all one type of people. The Human Being. Ears. Eyes. Brains. Hearts....

Try okay?

Over and Out!
<3 Mindy

A Peep Into My Insane World

What if there is more to this universe than the heavens let on? What would happen with choices you have made in the past? You are walking, and there is a fork in the road. You have a choice to make, go right, or go left? You choose right, but what happens to that open left road? What if there was another universe that acts the way our universe does, except it takes the results of the choices we make, and make it into it's own life. An opposite of you, but not really. Think about Deja Vu. When you swore you had done something before, what if it was the separate universes touching, just for a split second. Like the choices you made before it were close to the opposite choice in the alter universe. 

On that note, let's move deeper into the beginning. God had to have used something to create with. There are hypothetically two things that God hasn't created. Matter and Intelligence. God walked a very fine line with the Matter and Intelligence all around him. One false move will throw balance into chaos and God would never have created. But since God is God, he succeeded in bending the Intelligence and Matter to his will. On that note, what if the Matter and Intelligence don’t like to obey? They begin to obey constantly already.

So when we look at a table, which stands straight and tall, would you say that has intelligence? God must have forged matter and intelligence together to create one thing. Maybe. When Christ was suffering, all the intelligence and matter of the universe felt mercy for him, and gave him great power and made him become a God. Say! What if we ALL could be Gods?

Wow okay I’m done. I don’t really believe in all of this, I just got inspired by my uncle who’s thought about all this weird philosophy crap. Honestly? I don’t know what I believe, but I come from a Christian family. Haa….Christen in German is Christian…..

Anyway, yeah, Don’t believe what I just typed. I just had to get it out on blog. :P

Over and Out!

Mindy