Last Day of Semester

I’m really tired. I’m writing this really late and I should probably be in bed but some nights you just need to stay up late writing. The last day of school before exams then Christmas break is tomorrow and I’m really excited about that. I’ve been looking forward to this since Thanksgiving break ended.

Tomorrow I will give all my lovely friends their Christmas presents. In some classes I’ll have to pay attention to exam review, but in most of them I’ll hopefully be able to zone out and write or read or catch up on sleep. I remember last year I read a really sad book during exam review days, called 13 Reasons Why, and it ended with me awkwardly crying in the back corner of the room during class. Maybe I’ll just sleep.

In band we’re having our Christmas party and this will be very good. There will be food and when there is food parties are fun. And my band friends will be there, and it will just be a good time in general and yeah I’m going to bed, good night world.

Injustice Within the Church?

Recently I read about an organization called New Horizon Youth Ministries, and a school known as Escuela Caribe. Located in the Dominican Republic, this was a boarding reform school that was supposedly Christian. The horror stories I read about it compelled me to look further to make sure that it really had been shut down (yes, the whole ministry was bought in 2011 and the schools shut down).

Apparently, this school had been open since the 1970’s, and the alumni told stories of physical and emotional abuse that went on at the school. Parents in the States sent their kids here not fully knowing what the place was like, and the realities of “the program” that went on at the school were kept mostly secret for years, until some students began talking about it and a documentary called “Kidnapped for Christ” was made about the place. Students were sent to this school for all sorts of behavior problems, troubles with the law or authority, and homosexuality; and this school would try to break them into submissive behavior in the name of God.

The whole thing just sounded so sickening, that people would be abused in the name of Christianity. In fact, many of the past students interviewed said that their experiences at the school had led them to be distrustful of Christianity or the church.

The church is supposed to be loving and accepting, as Jesus was; and obviously this isn’t always happening. Why not?

Scotland

My brother is coming home from Scotland in one week, and I’m really looking forward to seeing him. He’s been spending the semester studying at St. Andrew’s University, so I haven’t seen him in person in four months and I miss him a lot. I didn’t expect to miss him so much. Growing up, we got along really well and were pretty close, but I didn’t really understand what an impact he made on my life until he wasn’t there all the time anymore. It wasn’t until he went off to college that I really understood what he meant to me. Guess it goes to show that you shouldn’t take anything for granted. Thankfully, he’s still around for me to not take for granted for a good long while.

Anyway, I’m really excited to hear all about Europe and see all the pictures. He’s posted some on facebook, but there’s something different about hearing about the stories behind the pictures firsthand. My mom’s probably going to get really emotional because she’s never been apart from her son for this long, but it’s understandable so we’ll all forgive her.

Now I’ve just got to get through this next week of exams!

Youth and Government

Today I went to the Youth and Government Pre-Conference, and I think I’m really going to like this year a lot better than my freshman year. My freshman year was fun, but I felt shy and awkward and young. This year, a ton of my friends are going, and I’ve already met a couple of new people from other schools that seem really nice and hopefully I will get to know them better in February at the conference.

Youth and Government is really interesting because you see such a diversity of people there that you don’t ever see at the private Christian school I go to. Not only racial diversity, because now we’ve got some of that at school. But also diversity in political beliefs and opinions, and diversity in sexualities. It’s all very interesting to talk to people that I otherwise probably wouldn’t ever meet. Like today, a girl presented her bill which is about having insurance companies cover abortions, and that caused a lot of debate as abortion is pretty controversial. I mostly just sat and watched and realized that I have very unique opinions. I can’t completely agree with abortions, but I don’t think abortion clinics should be shut down since they are the safe way to have an abortion and women will have abortions somehow whether they’re legal or not; it’s been happening that way for years. However she didn’t seem fazed by the criticism at all and she was confident, and I admired her for that and I look forward to debating more bills in the future.

Progressive-Agressive Dinner

Today was the progressive aggressive dinner with my youth group. An annual event around Christmastime, it combines a progressive house-to-house dinner with an aggressive citywide scavenger hunt, and this year’s was pretty memorable. I was on a team with my friends Laura, Christa, and Natalie; and Kayla was our driver. Kayla’s awesome and she’s only two years older than me. Well, what Kayla didn’t tell us was that her car was a two-door and basically the tiniest vehicle ever, with the possible exception of smarts and VW bugs.

Somehow we all squeezed in and began our night of food, fun, and ticking the youth pastor’s crazy scavenger hunt ideas off the list one by one as we finished them. These included a video of us playing leapfrog, which we poorly chose to do in the salad dressing aisle of Target, which got us “asked to leave” by the employees (oops!). We somehow moved on from that embarrassing fiasco and finished the evening with several points. Although we didn’t win, we got closer as friends and all in all it was an evening I won’t forget for a long time.

Bacon

I just spent a wonderful day with my friend Emily, who is a pretty awesome chica. She came over to my house and we made sandwiches out of warm chewy chocolate chip cookies and cold soft ice cream, which are the best kind of sandwiches in my opinion. Then we watched funny movies and of course laughed for a long time. She’s one of those people that always makes me laugh, and I think you need to always hold on to those people that make you laugh. Then came the 2 AM conversations about everything from God to boys to girls to school and what we wanted to do with our lives.

Then this morning we woke up and ate bacon and it was lovely and greasy and wonderfully tasty. Emily had never had bacon before so it was quite an experience for her. I feel very honored to be part of someone’s first ever bacon-eating moments in life.

Lately I've Been Happy

Lately, I’ve been happy. Like something, somewhere, deep down inside, is finally okay. Maybe while the joints of my body are falling out of place, the fragmented pieces of my soul are starting to fall into place, and hold together with the glue that the rest of me doesn’t seem to have.

Lately this fear I’ve been suppressing about what could possibly be wrong with me to cause these joint problems and pain has been hovering closer to the surface, threatening to break through the thin barrier that separates the back of my mind from my overanalyzed thoughts. And I keep on pushing it back, refusing to think about it.

But lately I’ve been learning how to get past it. Yes, it is kind of scary to have joints go where they don’t belong and you don’t know why. It is kind of scary to wake up not knowing what’s going to hurt that day, how far you’ll feel like walking that day. But it doesn’t change anything. Just something new to deal with, another challenge to conquer. Like depression, except this is physical. And maybe I’ll learn something. After all, I have plenty to be thankful for.

Trapped

            The little girl stared at her face in the mirror as she stood on her tiptoes in order to see herself. Her fingers were pressed against the glass as she traced her reflection: sky blue eyes, pale skin, button nose. She felt a deep-seated confusion at the fact that this face in the mirror belonged to her, that her soul was trapped in this body, a place where she didn’t belong. What if she had been born different? If someone else’s body were hers instead, would she be the same person? Would she be more comfortable, or feel more at home?

            She couldn’t remember the first time she’d noticed she was different. She was not like other girls, and it seemed she had always known this fact. This terrible, unbelievable fact- she would never be the same. She would never be like the others.

            She hurriedly turned away from the mirror in disgust, hoping it was all just a dream and she’d wake up soon, in her body. She could imagine it now-one day all the wishes and hopes and prayers would work, and she’d get out of bed and see herself in the mirror, and everything would be right.

            As she thought this, her mom walked in suddenly. “Why aren’t you dressed? We have to leave in five minutes or you’ll be late again!” she said impatiently as she handed her son his school uniform. After he had pulled on the khaki pants and button-up shirt, she ran a brush through his hair. “We need to get you a haircut soon. It’s getting too long. Now get your books; I’ll meet you in the car.”

            The girl slowly turned and looked once more into the mirror. She caught a glance of her eyes, wide and scared. When would her mom ever realize that she actually had a daughter? And would she ever accept that?

NCCSA

I just got back from NCCSA, which is basically the Christian version of an all-state band clinic. As usual, it was a mixture of experiences. I love spending the time with my band friends, I like the challenge of learning an entire concert in 2 days, I like the short break from school. And of course the concert itself is always fun.

There is an aspect of the culture there that I don’t fit in with at all. Not saying that it’s wrong, just that I’m not used to it and I don’t fit in. The other schools there are usually very conservative, a few to the point of legalism, and I don’t really understand legalism at all.

But mostly it was a lot of fun. Several new inside jokes and memories were made as usual, and the Friday night bowling trip was a blast. I enjoyed the music-it was challenging without being impossible, and I love the opportunity to play music that’s more on my level than what we get to do in concert band at school.

Now I am absolutely exhausted and have a lot of homework that probably won’t get done. Sorry not sorry.

If They Said That You Were Dying

Somebody asked me once what I would do if I knew I only had a short time to live. Would I change anything about how I’m spending my life? This stopped me in my tracks. Heck yeah I would. And then I realized, I don’t know how long I have left. At any moment my heart could stop, any of ours could. Or I could get into an accident tomorrow morning, or be diagnosed with a cancer I didn’t know I had. What would I do then?

I would drop out of school. if I’m not going to live to be an adult, what’s the point in preparing to be one? I would write constantly, everything in my head. I wouldn’t want anyone to forget me, and maybe my writing would help them remember. I would go to New York City, and California, and Europe, if time permitted. All the places I’ve always wanted to see. I would go to concerts and museums and parties, spend time with friends and family. I wouldn’t wait to do anything. I wouldn’t want to put anything off. I would want to fall in love, and see and experience everything there is in this world, before I left.

And I hope this is how I live my life. I don’t want to wait to live until I’m told I’m dying.

What's Really Important?

They tell us that grades are of utmost importance. I don’t disagree, I do think it’s important to try your hardest and do your best. But I also think it’s important to be a kid while you’re still young. Students are put under so much stress at such a young age; not only do they have school for six to eight hours a day but on top of that they have homework and studying and projects to do.

I promise you that in five years you won’t remember the grade you made on that math test, or your score on that English essay. But you will remember the friends you made, the nights you stayed up late talking and laughing and making memories together. Sometimes our most poignant moments are those that shouldn’t have happened, those that should’ve been spent studying or doing something “worthwhile”. I say, if it shapes you as a person, if it changes how you think or act or see the world, then it’s pretty important. Some of the most essential life lessons are not taught in schools. You don’t go to class to learn how to be a friend, or how to love in the hardest of times, or what to do when everything falls apart. These are the important things.

When I Write Best

I seem to do my best writing when I’m supposed to be doing something else. Ask me to sit down and write something worth reading in half an hour, and I will freeze, sit there and think for twenty minutes, then frantically scrawl down some halfhearted bull and hand it in. But tell me to do math homework or a science project, and suddenly story after story or poem after poem will spring into my head, uninvited but certainly welcome. I only wish a poem about loneliness was an acceptable answer for an exponential equation, or a tale of brave soldiers battling evil in an alternate universe appropriate instead of a poster about the periodic table.

I wish I could say, “I know I didn’t do your assignment, but look, I was doing this, and isn’t that so much better and more worthwhile than something I didn’t really want to do in the first place? This is something that I’m passionate about, and I think that shows, and we should spend time doing what we love.”

I think that if writers have to struggle through math problems and science projects (don’t get me wrong, I do love math and science) then they should have to struggle to write a poem or a story. It would only be fair.

What I Would Say to Her

You are perfectly beautiful in every way, just as you are. It’s okay to sit back after a meal and be full and satisfied. It’s okay to eat cookies or cake or fudge. It’s okay to express yourself and love that person you are, to be free and happy. It’s okay to skip your workouts and forget to renew your gym membership. It’s okay to lie in bed and watch Netflix or Disney movies and rest and be lazy sometimes.

You will take up more space than you used to. This may seem like a terrifying concept, but it will be all right in the end, because as you gain weight you will gain confidence and health and strength. You will get to know your body and learn to embrace instead of treating it as the enemy like you have for so long. You will learn to love yourself.

Twenty years from now, you will look back on these days. And you will hopefully have the life you dreamed of for so long, with that loving family or successful career or whatever it is that you wished for. And you will be glad that you decided to recover, you will decide it was worth it. You will have found the beauty in life, and the beauty in yourself, and I hope you’ll always have that. Remember this, when it’s hard. Remember what can one day be, if only you let it.

 

Perfect?

Society screams at us from all sides that we have to be perfect. They try to tell us that perfection is stick-thin legs and flat stomachs and hair that’s never out of place and skin that’s always clear.  They try to tell us that perfection is a million-dollar house and a sports car and fame.

But when models are photoshopped and Hollywood is an illusion, even the perfect ones can’t be perfect. They, too, are an illusion, fake happy lives lived for the cameras, and I wonder what happens when those cameras are gone. Do they transform into normal people, or have they fooled even the most private areas of their minds to believe that they can be the exception, that they can be perfect? We are all good actors and actresses. We have to be to survive in this world. We live through each day being who everyone else wants us to be. But some of us are better at it than others. And I wonder if these people, in their exceptional ability to create perfect illusions, have managed to trick themselves into thinking they are what they pretend to be. I wonder what they’re hiding from.

Dreams

It’s one of those nights. You know the ones. Well, maybe you don’t. Unless you’re a writer, or an artist, some sort of creator. One of those nights where you can’t sleep because an idea keeps bouncing around inside the walls of your mind, until you get out of bed and let it out. I don’t even have a specific idea right now, just words. I know I need to write, then I can sleep.

Have you ever had a dream for yourself, something that you built your entire life around? Every choice you made, every action you did, filtered through this dream. Maybe it’s your ambition of becoming a professional athlete, or going to art school. You spend your time going to sports practices or workouts or art classes or gallery shows. You sacrifice sleep and friendships and who knows what else, so that hopefully, one day, you can achieve your dream.

Well, what happens to you when that dream gets cruelly ripped from you with no warning? What happens when you, as an athlete, injure your leg, or as an artist, hurt your fingers? What happens when this dream is no longer a possibility and striving towards it can no longer be a reality? What happens when everything you based your life on is gone and you have nothing?

Well, I guess you have to start from scratch. New possibilities, new dreams, met with fear at first, because what if you lose these too? But you eventually learn that you can’t live your life in fear.

Only the bravest will survive this, and those who do become the strongest.

Trees

I’m sitting here on the balcony overlooking the parking lot, but I like to look beyond the painted asphalt and rows of cars and see the trees. There’s a beautiful view out here, if you just look. Right now, it’s breathtaking-the trees are vibrantly colored, with leaves of every hue of the rainbow. Sometimes during class I sneak a peek out the window, and I almost can’t tear my eyes away. I know soon winter will come, and the leaves will fall and the tree branches will be bare and ghostly, with only the scattered evergreens providing color. But for now, this is the view. I wish I had my camera so I could take a picture, but my words will have to do. Read this, then close your eyes, try to see it.

The sky is blue, the color you imagined the ocean when you were a child in kindergarten art class with twenty-four crayons at your disposal. The clouds are few, and scattered across the sky off in the distance. For the most part, it’s clear. The trees are, as I described them before, are gorgeous, all golden and red and green. The sunlight is streaming down through the branches, teasing shadows on the ground.

I don’t want to ever forget this.

Infinite

“And I swear, in that moment, we were infinite.”

This is quite possibly one of the most quoted lines from Stephen Chbosky’s Perks of Being a Wallflower. It has become cliché and overused, but does anyone really understand what it means?

When Charlie says this, he is riding with his friends at night. It’s dark outside. They’re listening to their favorite song. Charlie stands up in the back of the truck, and looks around him at the city lights. He is caught up in the moment; after a long time of being mentally unstable, he is finally okay and his future seems bright.

I think Stephen captured in words a feeling that most people don’t recognize and don’t know how to describe. It’s a very specific feeling-generally limited to nighttime drives with those you are most comfortable with and with no particular destination in mind. Music can awaken this feeling, as it connects people to a more introspective, emotional side of themselves. It’s the feeling that comes during these types of moments, when you truly feel alive. Your worries fade away. Your past is erased. Your future has so many bright possibilities. The present is rich and vibrant.

You feel endless. Your future is eternal, stretched out before you. You’re not in any hurry to get anywhere or do anything. You would be perfectly content staying within this moment forever, and you will remember this moment forever. This is what it means to feel infinite.

 

My Views on Writing

Now that I've made a post about other's views on writing, it's time I share my own.

Why do people write? What is it inside a person's head that compels them to put their thoughts on paper?  Some may wish to make money, but how easy is it really to make money writing? In order to be successful as a writer, one ought to be very good at it. At least, this is my opinion. Others may disagree, and the 21st century culture is full of bad writers making good money. I say this is a disgrace.
Why do I write? What drives me to put pen to paper and let the words flow from my heart?
I think writing is a bridge to sanity. It helps you sort out what's real versus what's only in your head. It helps you organize your thoughts so you can sort through them and try to make some sense out of them. Some people are very good at this. Some people can make the muddled-up tangled web of messy thoughts in their heads so clear that it provides understanding not only for them, but for others as well. Sometimes people can see their own problems explained through someone else's good writing.
And sometimes people want to forget about their problems, and so they write. They write themselves into another world, another dimension, until their pain isn't felt and they can experience happiness again. And those who don't write, read. They read themselves into someone else's life and someone else's experiences, until they can forget their own.
This is why, when you finish a good book and close the door on what was a wonderful world, it's like a death for some people as they wake up and find themselves once again in their own life. And this is why so many readers find themselves going back, reading again and again, and begging writers for more.
And this, I believe, is why writers write. Not only to satisfy their own cravings deep within themselves, but to ease the hungry longings of a thousand dedicated readers, begging for another journey into their favorite worlds.

Quote Compilation

These are a bunch of quotes about writing that I like.

"I write, because otherwise these thoughts would swim around in my head until I went insane."

“Write to write. Write because you need to write. Write to settle the rage within you. Write with an internal purpose. Write about something or someone that means so much to you, that you don’t care what others think.”

"Young writers should read books past bedtime and write things down in notebooks when they are supposed to be doing something else."

"The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say."

"You must stay drunk on writing so reality can not destroy you."

"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart."

"The process of writing has something infinite about it."

"It is only when you open your veins and bleed onto the page a little that you establish contact with your reader."

"You write to communicate to the hearts and minds of others what's burning inside you."

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."

Poem

A poem I wrote for a thing.
It has feelings.

"Perfect"

When I ask if she’s all right,

She always says, “Of course, I’m fine.”

Her lips spread in a smile

That will only remain for a while

Until she thinks I’ve looked away;

Then I’ll know her happiness isn’t here to stay.

 

Sometimes I wish she’d let her guard down

And let that smile turn into a frown.

Sometimes I wish she’d break down her walls,

Cry for some time, and then let herself fall

So she can get back up again,

And rebuild herself better than she’s ever been.

 

“You’re already beautiful,” I try to convince her,

But still she stares at herself in the mirror,

So caught up in her own reflection,

Completely trapped by the allure of perfection

That tells her she’ll never be good enough,

But doesn’t she know that she’s already loved?

 

When I ask if she’s all right,

She always says, “Of course, I’m fine”,

But her eyes speak the truth

Lies she’s believed ever since her youth,

That she just isn’t worth it,

But doesn’t she know that she’s already perfect?

Woods Part 2

She was falling, screaming. It happened so fast she barely even realized what was happening. Then, thunk! She hit the ground, hard. Her leg was bent at an awkward angle, it had landed on a sharp stick, and she couldn't move it.
For several moments, she was too stunned to do anything but sit there in silence, trying to catch her breath. Then, the pain hit. She yelled. Then cried. Then whimpered.
She was beginning to get really cold, and she still couldn't move her leg. She needed help, and soon. Not knowing what else to do, she packed leaves into the wound on her leg to stop it from bleeding. She gingerly pulled herself into a sitting position and carefully dragged herself across the forest floor, crying out in pain as her leg moved over the uneven ground.
She finally reached a tree she could lean against. She shivered. The sun was setting.

Woods

The woods were peaceful on this crisp fall day. The leaves crunched under her feet as she ambled slowly along, enjoying the day. She glanced up above her, at the treetops up high and the clear blue sky still higher. A cool breeze whipped around her, causing her to pull her sweater tighter around her body and hunch her shoulders forward. All the same, it was still a great day for a walk through the woods. She loved this time of year, when the woods were most beautiful. They were showing one last burst of color before the trees became bare for the winter.
As she looked around, she saw squirrels frantically running around, gathering nuts for the winter to come. She heard a few birds chirping, and the honk of Canadian geese on their way south for the winter. The air smelled clean and clear.
She decided to climb a tree. She found one with good, sturdy, low-hanging branches and began to climb. She felt the rough bark beneath her soft hands. It stung a little but she continued to climb until she had reached the top branch. She surveyed the world around her. She was on top of the--!
The branch snapped.

Music

How does music evoke such emotions within us? How come a song can make us feel energized and on top of the world, or reduce us to tears, or strike a chord within us that resonates with our soul?
Music has been around for thousands of years. It has been studied and developed and created by many different people over many different time periods.
There are so many different styles of music that it is not possible for there to not be something for everyone. From rap to country, everyone should be able to find their favorite.
Some people say that music has saved their lives. Some people who have become deaf say that the thing they miss most is music. And this is because music is able to accomplish something that the spoken word cannot.

I am so tired

I am so tired of writing blog posts, so it is good that I only have four more to go. Time for another random poem about not knowing what to write about.

I could write about a dog
Or a ribbety green frog
I could write about the fog
Or a bark-covered, rough brown log.

I could write about the sun
I could write about the Huns
I could write about some nuns
I could write about some puns!

Maybe describe a purple elephant,
But wait, I can't
They don't exist.
But I just talked about creativity
Permeating through every single activity

And every story that I write,
So I will try to not be trite
But maybe I'll stay up all night
Staring at the glow of my laptop light.

I could tell you what the fox says
But you might not care to know.
We could dress the fox in a fez
And tell it where to go.

Maybe I should've done this sooner
Perhaps when the night wasn't quite so lunar
Next time I'll be sure to tell myself
To not put this project on the shelf.

Mental Health

This week is mental health awareness week, so I think that it is only an appropriate question to ask: what is mental health? Over the years, psychology and psychiatry have used a number of different terms from Latin and Greek roots to describe behavior types that have been observed in people. But what are these people other than those who differ from the "cultural norm", which is an ever-shifting concept?
There is no set standard of mental health that anyone can be held up against. It is easy to define mental illness as "a psychiatric disorder that disrupts a person's thinking, feeling, mood, and ability to relate to others",; but I think the definition of mental health is one that is more elusive. Yes, it would by default be the opposite of mental illness, but is it not true that everyone has certain ways of thinking, feeling, mood, and relating to others? And who's decision is it if those are disruptive or not?
Think about that.

Writing

I was a better writer as a child than I am today. This may make no sense. Shouldn't one improve over time? Shouldn't I even better today than last month, last year, 5 years ago? Yes.
But there is one problem, one thing that has kept me from continuing to develop my writing skills over the years. And that is logic. When I look back over my childhood writings, they were creative and imaginative, silly and comical. now, it is as if I have been tainted with logic. There is no more room for imaginative or comical, not when logic takes over and says "That can't actually happen."
Sure, over time, my grammar and vocabulary have improved, but not my creativity. The worst thing that writing can contain is overused clichés. Another reason my writing as a child was better than my writing now is that when I was a child, I had no idea what the clichés were to even know how to use them. Everything was creative because everything came from my brain only. Syntax and structure weren't as big of a deal, so creativity came out more easily. Now, the clichés are so ingrained into my head that they automatically flow from my fingers to the screen, or my pen to the paper.

Ballet

As far back as I can remember, I danced. Classical ballet, of course. When I was about 2 years old, my mom, like every other mom, put me in tights and a tutu and sent me off to ballet class. Once a week I would stand in front of a full-length mirror with a dozen other identically dressed girls and awkwardly copy the movements of the teacher. At the end of the year we would do the same thing on stage, except there was no mirror, and the teacher stood off to the side.
This is as far as most little girls get in ballet. Not me. I continued to dance on throughout the years. I grew to love it. It became so much more to me than just something my mom signed me up for. Gradually, I got better and advanced through the levels.
Sadly, classical ballet proved to be too rigorous for me. By the time I was a teenager, it seemed, ballet was no longer a hobby at the dance school I went to. It was training. Training for a career, who can get into this company, who can score this audition with this big school, and I didn't want that. But dance will always hold a special place in my heart. A way of expressing myself that I hope to teach my own daughter someday.

Homework

In this post I am going to talk about homework. An overwhelming amount of homework is given to students on a regular basis. Students already work at school for 6-8 hours. Then they are expected to go home and do another 3-5 hours of homework in their "free time" at home. Typically, extracurricular activities are not taken into consideration.  Neither is sleep.
We are not just students. We are athletes, we are artists, we are musicians. We have soccer games and guitar practice and youth group to go to. We have chores to do and families and friends to spend time with. As humans we require a certain amount of sleep to function.
Believe it or not, I am not trying to say that homework should be eliminated entirely. A better solution would be for the teachers to work together to come up with an appropriate amount of total homework assignments due. They should also take into account extracurricular activities, so that young people can develop a wide variety of interests and have the freedoms they desire.

Society and Appearance

Too much of an emphasis is placed on appearance. People judge on appearances first and true inner self later. What some people don't realize is that there are many different ways of expressing your inner self on the outside.
Some people can feel suppressed because of the fear of being judged by others. They don't want to be express themselves through their appearance in the way that they would prefer because they fear that other people would pass judgment on them based on it. The problem does not lie with them, it lies with the judgmental ones.
One of my favorite things is cool and unique hairstyles. Different colors, different lengths, spiked, mohawks, they're all pretty rad. But I feel like some people who want these hairstyles end up not getting them because they worry that other people will think they're weird. Don't let yourself make decisions based on others' views of you. Though it is important how others perceive you, it is not as important as it seems. What is important is that you're comfortable in who you are. So go ahead. Get that crazy haircut.

Running

My feet rhythmically pound the ground. I am out of breath. The wind is whistling in my ears. I am running.
I love running because it makes me feel free. I feel like I am flying when I run. It is a good outlet for excess energy.
Running is an easy sport to get into because it is inexpensive and you can fit it into almost any schedule. It doesn't matter how much you run, as long as you get into the habit of running. Eventually you will build up your endurance and be able to run faster and longer distances. 
When I was a freshman and sophomore, I developed shin splints which kept me from running when they got really bad. It was hard because I enjoyed running and couldn't do what I loved to do. Now that my legs have healed I can get back into it and experience again. This time I won't take it for granted.

Impressing People

"We spend money we don't have on things we don't need to impress people we don't like." Why is this?
First of all, we can't even afford whatever it is that we're buying. It makes no sense to spend money you don't have because it leads to debt and history has proved time and again that going into debt is generally a bad idea.
The only reason to spend money you don't have is if it's actually something you need, like food, or shelter, or medicine. Maslowe's hierarchy of needs shows that these basic needs are the most important, and in fact we can't focus on any other needs until these immediate basic ones are met. If someone is able to focus on things they don't need, that must mean they have enough money to buy all the things they do need, they just don't have the money for a lot of extra things.
However, in some cases, trying to impress people you don't like does make sense. The people that you like have probably reciprocated that like towards you as well, which means that they're already impressed by you and you have no need to try around them. Though this may be the case, it is still unnecessary in most circumstances to spend money you don't have on things you don't like for the sole purpose of impressing others. If you get something, it should be because you need it; or you want it and like it and your needs have been met.

Comfort Zone

They say that life begins outside of your comfort zone. It seems like it would be the other way around-the best things in life would happen during a situation where you are completely secure and comfortable with the surroundings, right? Wrong.
Comfort zones tend to box people in to limits that they impose on themselves and refuse to cross. They tell themselves "I'm comfortable here. Why cross that line into a realm where something bad might happen to me?" It's easy to develop this mentality, and so much harder to break out of it.
Some of the best experiences of my life happened when I stepped out of my comfort zone, from things as minor as riding a roller coaster to as major as attending the youth and government conference to debate bills. I found that when I stepped "out of my comfort zone into the realm of the unknown", (Voice of Truth, Casting Crowns) I ended up having more fun than if I had stayed in my comfortable little box.
 "Fix You", by Coldplay, says that "If you never try you'll never know/Just what you're worth." Sometimes, the fear of failure can convince you to not even try something, but you can't let this happen. You could succeed, but you won't know unless you try. And if you mess up, your mistakes will teach you a lesson and show you how to do better next time.

Poem

Oh why did I wait
Until it was so late
To write these blog posts?

I don't know what to write about
So let's just wait and see.
Should I write about a ghost
Since it's nearing Halloween?

Or maybe the leaves
How they change colors in the fall
Or men named Steve
Who walk through the mall.

Or the government shutdown
Have they lost their mind?
It's like they left town
And left nothing behind.

Or the problems in Syria
That you hear on the news.
There's just so much drama,
What will they choose?

This poem needs to be twice as long
As it is right now
I realize waiting was really wrong
I just might have a cow.

How? How would I have a cow?
It is not biologically possible.
But "Don't take this literally, now,
That would not be plausible."

I could write about the sky
And how it has so many colors
But that would take up so much time
You might begin to shudder.

I could write about that airplane
That I hear outside my window
Maybe they are flying to Spain
Or maybe just Greensboro.

I could write about the songs
That I sing to myself at night
Or whether it is right or wrong
To turn away or fight.

There are so many things to write about
But right now, I haven't the time.
However, I have absolutely no doubt
They will come, later tonight.

Terror at Stone Mountain

My breath catches in my throat. I'm not sure I can do this. Why did I sign up for this in the first place? I want to go back down. Down. I look down and immediately wish I hadn't. Even though I'm only a couple dozen feet up in the air, I might as well be on top of Mount Everest.                                                       "Don't look down!" my friends tell me. But of course, it's too late. Realizing that the only way down is forward, I lift up my eyes and look in front of me. Thin, unsteady wooden boards and rope with a little bit of slack in it are all that connects me to the next platform.
All of a sudden, the steady drizzle turns into a practical downpour. Now on top of all that, the boards will be slippery and I will have a hard time getting a good grip. 
I take a deep breath. The only thing separating me from sure and certain death is this harness I have attached to a rope, and I'm not positive that it even works.
My friends continue to encourage me. "You can do it! We believe in you!" they say. Finally, with one last burst of determination, I step out from the platform. Miraculously, I make it to the other side in one piece and finish the course strong. When I finally reach the bottom and look back on the past grueling minutes of my existence, I am glad that I challenged myself.

Success?

I often find myself disagreeing with the cultural American definition of success-you work as hard as you can to get as high up on the success ladder as possible, and if you knock someone down a few rungs on the way, it's ok. Our culture places too much of an emphasis on perfection, and this is what success has become known as. People think that in order to be successful, you can never mess up. You can't make a mistake. This is a dangerous mentality to have.
I want to be a doctor when I grow up. If I were to believe this mentality about success equaling perfection, I might not ever reach my goal because I would get so caught up in getting every little thing right that I would lose focus of the bigger picture. While it is important to focus on the small tasks at hand, one should also take into consideration how they fit into the bigger picture.
If you were to have this mentality while you were trying to reach your big, top-of-the-ladder goals of success, you would get stuck on your way up because failure is inevitable. You're going to mess up at some point in life, and when you do, you can't become discouraged about it and give up.

Introversion and Extroversion

Different people have many different opinions about the personality traits of outgoing versus inward. Some people think that you are either one or the other, while others find that there are so many gray areas between the two that it is difficult to figure out whether someone is strictly an introvert or an extrovert.
I agree more with this second opinion. You have to take into account someone's circumstances and surroundings. While there are people who are naturally more outgoing than others, everybody has a comfort zone, it's just that some people's comfort zones are larger than others'.
I find in myself that I am naturally introverted. I often prefer to be on my own or with a small group of close friends. But what I have also found out is when I am with these friends, I am very comfortable and outgoing. Extroverted, even. I have also developed the ability to fake being comfortable and confident with myself, even when I'm not, and this helps me be more outgoing when it's necessary. They say "fake it till you make it" and in some cases this actually works. One can fake being confident until they actually do feel the confidence within them.

Procrastination

I am suffering from writer's block at the moment but I have to finish this assignment so I am going to write about that. I probably should not have procrastinated on this so much. It is due tomorrow and I still have a lot to do. This should be fun. I am using sarcasm here.
Procrastination. My definition is when you put off until tomorrow what could be done today, and repeat the process tomorrow. Until you find yourself the night before the due date frantically trying to come up with things to write about. I'm not sure why I procrastinated. It's not that I don't enjoy writing, I do. I love it. Especially when I can come up with a good topic to write about. Maybe it was because I started late because I had BlogSpot connection problems at my house. Maybe I couldn't come up with a good topic, or maybe I had other things to do. Or maybe it was just such a long-term assignment I thought I had plenty of time. I have so many excuses.
Anyway, next quarter I will probably not wait so long until I start the assignment because I have learned my lesson.

PE

As a child I was never really athletic. In PE I would always shy away from the ball. I got an A in the class for showing up and "participating", but the truth is I put on my gym uniform and stood in a corner as far away from the action as I could get. Turns out the only thing I was really good at was dodgeball. I was so good at dodging the ball that I always ended up being the last one standing on my team. The one everybody depended on to hit the backboard so they could get out of jail and back in the game. The one who got laughed at when I nervously picked up a ball and threw it as hard as I could, only to watch in defeat as it followed the laws of gravity and fell back to the ground, five feet away.
Towards the end of my years in PE, I grew to learn what the class was really about. It doesn't actually stand for public embarrassment. It doesn't really matter how good you are at the sport, as long as you have fun! The point of the class is to teach you how to have fun while exercising to stay healthy. I found that when I laughed at myself along with everyone else, it was easier to shrug it off and have fun.
You are awesome for reading this! 

Growing Up

Growing up, I was always the shortest kid in my class. My growth pattern wasn't even on the charts. I was the same size as, or even smaller than, kids two or three years younger than me. It was like this for years-in some restaurants I had to use a booster seat even after I stopped ordering off the kids' menu, and I was the last kid to still bring their car seat on field trips in elementary school. On the first day of school, teachers who didn't already know me would ask me if I was lost on my way to the kindergarten hallway. I was eight years old before I could reach the shortest water fountain. And as I navigated my way through the halls of middle school during my 6th grade year, people would often run into me, apologize, and say "Oh, you're so short that I didn't see you there!"
Despite the annoying difficulties of my small stature, I refused to let it bother me too much. So what if I still had to shop in the children's section for my clothes? They were cheaper there anyway! Plus, I could get free ice cream and get on the kiddie rides at theme parks. One thing my granddad told me that helped me endure the teasing was, "You aren't too short. After all, your legs reach the ground."
In 7th grade, I finally started to catch up with my peers. I now have friends who are shorter than me, and I stand proudly at the height of 5'2 3/4", though I probably won't grow any more. (I haven't given up hope on that one last 1/4 of an inch, though. I'll keep you guys updated on that).
You are awesome for reading this!

Introduction

Hello lovely internet world! Welcome to my blog, and thanks for stopping by! This blog will probably be a culmination of my ramblings, opinions on certain things, experiences, likes and dislikes, short stories, poetry, and life in general.
I don't really know how to run a blog but I guess there's no wrong way to do it so I'm gonna tell you about myself.
My name is Lina. I'm 16 and a junior in high school. My life is a mixture of crazily hectic and awesome. I'm a devoted Christ follower and that pretty much defines every other aspect of my life. Some people would call me a well-rounded person because I have a lot of interests. I enjoy music-I play the flute, piccolo (think tiny high-pitched flute), piano, mallet instruments (think giant glorified xylophone type things), and I've dabbled a bit in guitar. And I sing. I like writing. I did NaNoWriMo as a freshman and I plan on doing it this November as well (3 weeks!). Ever since I was three or four years old, I read books voraciously; I could not get enough of them, and that continues to this day. I love elephants; chocolate; and the colors purple, silver, and black. You will learn more about me in my future blog posts, I hope!
You all are awesome for reading this.