My Memory

I've been having some trouble with my memory. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe there's nothing wrong with me. Maybe I'm just being paranoid like my mom sometimes is. Or maybe there is something wrong. Maybe I have amnesia... like Jason Bourne. Or maybe it's short-term memory loss... like Dory from Finding Nemo. They seem to make it work. But somehow I can't picture myself beating up CIA assassins with my bare hands or singing a song about swimming, no matter how adorable it may be. Anyway. Back to the point.

I'm worried about it. To put it frankly, my memory's been sucking lately. It's not like huge things, like my name or my birthday or anything. I can remember those fine. It's little things. For instance, I'll make myself a mental list of things I need to do (ie: charge cell phone, charge iPod, get history book from basement, etc.) and if I don't write it down, there's a really good chance I'll forget something on the list. And then I'll know I've forgotten something, but I have no clue whatsoever as to what it is. It's incredibly frustrating.

And the weird thing is, remembering music isn't really a problem. I play the violin (more like Celtic/Irish tunes... yeah... I play the fiddle... please don't make fun of me. I'll kick your ass. :-P) and I don't read music. I learn by ear, and my teacher puts the songs on my tape recorder. Maybe it's just musical talent or whatever, but I don't have a really hard time remembering my songs. If I don't practice them enough, the next time I play them it doesn't sound great, but that happens to everyone.

So what's wrong with me? I'm sure I had a ton of other examples to put in here, but what do you know? I've forgotten them.

I hope you all had a good holiday. Enjoy your New Year.

Sincerely,
Aravis

Oops.

Yup, overwhelming guilt. And avalanche of school stuff a week before winter break. 20 days off. Yippee.
So, life has been steady recently, and I brought an important decision last weekend; I'm finished with guys until I'm in high school. So, yeah. My New Year plans are falling apart and I'm going to the ice-skating rink tommorrow with Tina, Annie, Daniel, Anastasia, Mims && the twins. Hella fun. Tina, Daniel and I are the only ones who can actually skate and since Daniel is my ex-crush, the girls are gonna be all over me.
I hate winter.
My fingers are going to freeze off as I type.
Fucking snow everywhere, the jolly season they call it.
Well, speak for yourself.

xx.
The Kittster.

The Moon

Today we were driving home from my grandparents' Christmas party. We were merging onto the highway when I saw the moon. It was perfectly circular, and a beautiful shade of ivory. Then, about twenty minutes later, I saw it again when we were pulling into our driveway. It was smaller, but still perfect and bright. It got me thinking. The world, when you think about it, is kind of a small place. Yet there are still endless adventures and experiences to be had in it. So many places to go, cultures to experience.... It's funny how the seemingly most insignificant thing can stir up so many thoughts.

I don't really have anything important to say here, but I feel guilty for not posting in a while. I hope you all are doing okay, wherever you are.

Happy holidays to those of you who are celebrating, and if not, have a happy December anyway.

Sincerely,
Aravis

Climbing the ladder.

Sorry for not posting in a while; my grades were getting WAY out of hand and my computer has been password protected..:( Just as I wanted to make this post, BAM! Power goes out. I made several drafts and didn't like them. :/ So, here goes.


Today's post is about climbing the ladder. Which ladder? The social one, of course.


I have never ever seen a person climb the social ladder as fast and in a strange way as me.


I did.


Accidentally.


Long story, which I would rather not explain now, little splinters still pierce me in the shoulder when I do.


So, thing is,


Am I actually higher up on the social ladder or am I just swinging on a fragile thread next to it?


[Crap, that sounded way better in my head.]


I haven't ditched my other friends, the people that mean the most to me.


But.................................


Hanging with the "populars" [not the whole society, of course; just those 4 people or smthing.] turns out to be much more fun than I thought. Drawing cool scene dolls and HKs with Laura, making the perfect "Womanizer" duet with Martina and even chatting with Vicky about what will her career be, psychiatrist or marriage councilor-that's awesome. They're awesome. So, climbing the social ladder is fragile. Balance the cliques well and you will learn to climb fast, and easy. However, I'd much rather just have the part of sitting with Laura & Alex [My bff Alexandra, I'll just shorthen it that way] in shorter classes and ROFLing with Vicky, sitting aside in PE with Martina, than have the whole army of them flocked around, you know, talking to me and all that.


NOT.


Really, I'm a very shallow person. I have to admit it. I would do just about anything to become popular and have tons of hot guys buzzing around me. I like my friends. Not that I don't. But... Sometimes I think that being popular might just suit me better. But climbing the ladder is hard. I have come to the conclusion that I am one step away from being popular, but I am pulled back by my geeky friends... And being pulled back is good. I don't belong over the line, I don't belong with the populars. I should stick to my position as geek queen, or I can lose it all and become the freak that eats by herself in a corner and everyone avoids. I really, really don't know why I even posted this. To get it off my chest, I suppose. Well, it may not be the most brilliant piece of art, but at least it makes me feel better.
Hang in there.

The Future

Hey, everybody. By some miracle, I have no homework tonight. So I'm going to write a post.... This one doesn't have any real meaning or significance, mostly because nothing super spectacular has happened lately, but here I go anyway.

My future. Well, when I was six I wanted to be a cashier at a supermarket. I thought scanning the things and pressing the buttons was the coolest thing ever. Then when I was eight, I wanted to be a waitress. My dad told me that some waitresses get to do both, and I nearly fell over with glee. Then for a few years after that I wanted to be an actress. I could see myself in movies and TV shows, and I stuck to it. I did plays at school and drama club and all that.

Now, though, it's different. I don't want to be in food service (I actually had a job busing tables recently and I couldn't wait to quit...) or be an actress. I want to go to Darmouth College and I want to be an author. This one I've stuck with for a long time. I can't remember exactly, but I think I've wanted to be an author ever since the sixth grade. Dartmouth came after, but any other school is my fallback. (I know. I'm only a sophomore, and I already have a fallback? My mom's a teacher/guidance counselor. She's very much into checking out colleges and being prepared and all that.)

Why do I want to be an author? Well, I couldn't really give you an entirely logical reason. I dream about seeing my name on the cover of a bestseller in Borders or someplace. I dream about being that teenager who wrote this fantastic novel, though I'm not all about the hype or the fame. That's not why I write. I write for fun, and even though some of my friends find that a little strange, I do it anyway. It's the best way I know to vent, to let out my feelings. I get to create my own world and my own characters, and I'm completely in control of what happens. It's not as stressful as real life; I make good use of the Backspace button. I get to write how I feel and writing something is so much easier than saying it sometimes. I'm determined to get myself published someday. I've obviously considered that I might get some rejections, but I don't care. My friend always says "words have power," and I've followed that philosophy with my writing. I have myself convinced I'm going to have my own book out there someday, and I don't see myself as becoming a failure in that aspect. I'm prepared to get rejection letters from some publishers, but I know I'll get my acceptance or "Sure we'll publish your book!" or whatever you call it letter. I don't doubt that. Maybe I should, but I don't.

I do hope I haven't gotten you slumped onto your keyboard, snoring, because of all that. If you did fall asleep, I hope you had a good nap. ;-)

Thanks for reading.

Sincerely,
Aravis

So Sorry

Hey everyone. So sorry I haven't posted in a while. Turns out trying to balance sleep, school, and fun makes you insanely busy.... I'll try and post after school today or tomorrow. I hope you all had a nice Thanksgiving/long weekend.

Sorry again,
Aravis

Boredness and... 2 month old pie

Today the weather said severe snow and ice storms. Pshhh liars. It snowed for an hour and didn't stick. Then it rained for 10 minutes.
Well, Thanksgiving was ok. I've just been sitting around watching reruns of 30 Rock, and Dead Like Me, which is my favorite new show by the way. Even if they probably aren't making episodes anymore. Now about the 2 month old pie...

Well, today was very interesting. Sunday is usually hectic for us. (So much for day of rest right) Well, on Sundays, my brother and I have to clean our rooms to get our allowence. Sam usually doesn't clean, and then gets in tons of trouble and gets grounded and screams.
Well, that happened this weekend, like everyone of my 10 years living with him.
I wanted to go see Twilight with my friend Autumn, but Sam didn't clean, and chose to read Archie comics instead. So, naturally, I go up to his room and say," You just ruined it for me and Autumn. Please clean your room. Maybe we can all still go."
If one person doesn't clean their room, nothing happens.
"NOOOO" he screams in his shrill, little kid scream.
I just ignored him and hopelessly went down to my room across the hall. But as soon as I stepped foot inside my room, he threw something headed right toard my head. I slammed my door so nothing would hit me. I cleaned for a while, then went back down stairs, watched some tv, and after a couple hours i went back upstairs to see that THERE WAS 2 MONTH OLD PUMPKIN PIE ALL OVER MY DOOR, rug, bookshelf outside my door, and on the walls, and ceiling. The pie container bounced down after hitting my door and hit a glass door, smearing pie everywhere.
Sam never takes anything home from his locker, but he did this week and decided to throw the tuperwhere at my door. Its usually a stuffed animal, by the way.
I screamed. "oh.my.gawwwd"
"i dont care." Sam said even though he knew he was SOOO DEAD.
I really don't know how i couldn't have seen the pie when i left my room...
Mom was pissed. Dad was pissed. Everyone was pissed. Even Sam, who "didn't know it was going to explode."
I ended up going to see Twilight with Autumn, didn't really like it, by the way...
Sam didn't clean up so now my house smells like rotten... something.
Even though we used a latter to scrape the crap off the ceiling when we got home, the smell is faintly there and my family is giving him priorities and being nice and acting like he didn't just smother my room with moldy pie.
What a wonderful... wonderfull... Thanksgiving.

Srsly...

...Have you peeps forsaken this blog? I hope not. If you're too busy, it is right to notify us others...

Winter wonderland!

Yesterday was a "Hakuna Matata" attitude day. It was snowing BIG TIME! Unfortunately, the streets were wet and it didn't build up. :( But it's hard to be miserable on such a wonderful day! Oh and another ferosh thing -- NO SCHOOL ON MONDAY! The teachers are protesting... Isn't it a wonderful day when the governement itself accidentaly gives you a day off? And that means I get to see my fave people tommorrow...
My fave people? Here they are (in order of favouriteness)
1. Daniel
2. Daniel
3. Daniel [I think you've all guessed who that is by now)
4. Natasha, Andrijana, Anastasia
5. The twins, Tina, Camelia
6. Mimi and Sarah

Indecision

I can't decide. On a lot of things, actually. And it's not minor, insignificant things, either, like "chocolate... or vanilla?!" It's big-deal things.

See, I wouldn't call myself a hypocritical person, but I do have my days where I'm hyper and bubbly and fun and laugh-y, and then my days where I'm more subdued and quiet and thoughtful. My quiet days are usually my more inspired days. I've found that sometimes my mood for the day depends on what my morning was like and what music I listened to on the bus ride to school. But enough of the back story.

I can't decide whether I want to be the fun, joke-telling, bubbly Becka or the more thoughtful and quiet one. I really can't. And people always just tell you to be yourself, but what if you have no clue which part of you is the actual you? It's like The Incredibles, when Buddy (as IncrediBoy) says to Mr. Incredible "You always tell us to be true to yourself, but you never tell us which part of ourself to be true to." (I get a lot of life lessons - or questions - from Disney/Pixar movies....)

So there's my dilemma. It's easy admitting this in writing, rather than saying it to someone, I must say. So thank you, Zeph, for creating this blog. It's helped me a lot already, and I'm sure it's helped other people too. So hats off to you. :-)

Hope you all had a nice day. I like Saturdays.

Sincerely, although today was a more bubbly day,
Aravis

When you just do not fit in

When you just don't fit in, you get a voice in your head that tells you that.
I am in love, OK?
And..
Me and the guy I love are probably the only two people at our age that can actually be in love.
However...
He doesn't love me.
And on the other hand, there is this thing..
Kissing?
Not really.
Making out? More like it.
Except..
It's casual.
Like a one-night-stand for 12 yr olds.
And if you haven't made out, you are a reject.
Unless you have a boyfriend and want to take it easy with him.
Anyways, back to the love part.
He loves my best friend.
I had my hate phase, self-loathing phase, denial phase and now I'm in acceptance phase.
Except..
It's hard.
How can he not see that I love him so much I could give my life for him?
Or maybe,
Just maybe,
He does see it.
And what if he does, anyway?
Well, I know he would be the sweetest, most adorable boyfriend in the whole world...
And I just hope he knows Natasha is going to hurt him.
She doesn't know what she wants.
Anyways..
I love him more that life itself.
And I can really say that and mean it.
Now, back to the title.
I know I don't fit in.
The "gang" of populars...
It's like they're all in an active relationship with each other and it looks like they are a...
Couple, really.
No, srsly.
Do guy friends usually walk around hugging their girl friends?
Or, ya know, casually whispering in their ear and stuff?
Gawd.
I'm so jealous of them right now.

Today

Today at lunch was silent. Dead silent. Autumn and I were going to talk to Fiona, but some girls who sit with us are nosey and love to spread rumors. Apparently they "hear wrong".
Anyways, Autumn went to go get a snack and I mentioned Caleb telling Autumn that he knew about my little "Bang-Bang thing yesterday."
She just nodded and said "Oh. What'd he say?"
And Autumn came back and they both went to go get a snack. The rest of lunch, all I did was listen in to other people's conversations on Twighlight coming out.

What do I do?

Background:
One of my best friend forever Fiona has this guy friend who absolutely is in love with her and he asked her out, she said no, and now he's been trying to get closer to her and eventually convince her that he is an awesome guy and go out with him.
He has got her around her finger. She is not a very smart girl when it comes to guys and she gets confused easily. When ever Cloe and I say something and might be a sick joke that is TOTALLY obvious, she won't get it. Which is perfectly fine by the way, but she doesn't understand people very well. She can't read your face to see if your happy or if you're faking it. Or if your sad or just bored.
So I really do NOT like Caleb (the guy friend of Fiona). We always fight and never agree on anything. He always wants to get into my business and know everything that goes on with me and Fiona so she "doesn't get hurt." He thinks I'm a bad friend because I can't agree with him. But me and Fiona are close. Really close.

Today:
So then today she was at a lunch with the principal outside of school because she was a student of the month.
Me and Autumn were in the cafeteria and I saw Caleb at his normal lunch table and i held my fingers up in a 'gun' shape you know, and went POW. (It was an inside joke from 7th grade just so you know. I'm not the violent type. :) lol). Then we looked at some cute guy in the lunch room and looked back and Caleb was gone. I was like "WOW I MADE EM DISAPPEAR."
Autumn told Fiona later and she laughed.

Then Fiona told Caleb and Caleb got mad because he takes things seriously! It's really dumb.

But I really don't care that he knows the story. Really, it's dumb. But the thing that gets me is that it was just a joke. I tell her everything. Like why I don't like him and stuff and stupid stuff about him that gets me upset.
She's told him everything. I've gossiped a little bit about him and how I want him to move away.
He causes 75% of the shit i have to go through.
And she tells him everything I say! I don't want him to know somethings.
It's not just about him, but about my personal life. Like inside jokes, or that my cat died, or dumb stuff. I'm not even close to him. I hate him so much.

When ever I used to talk to him, he'd only talk about Fiona and how she had "sparkling eyes" and how wonderful she was. It got tiring after a while and he said some stupid stuff that was really cheezy. She thought he was really stupid, but she keeps giving him false hope.

He thinks she loves him like he loves her. But she's too blind to see that they are not just friends in his eyes.
All my secrets are out. He also prints out all my emails where I say something secret to him, and he tells his friends.

I never email him anymore. He's blocked on my IM.

I'm going to talk to her and tell her some things need to remain a secret. Thats why they call it a secret...

Second Prompt-Lessons

Sorry I didn't post before-I had the idea in a message draft on my cell phone but then my teacher took it away and I wanted that precise idea so..Now I have my phone back-and here it goes:
Here's to lessons. Lessons we all go through. Lessons are there to keep us alive, mostly. People were not born wise.
The most important lesson I have learned is...Well, that some people have furs so thick there is no right way to rub them. So in those cases, you just keep aside. However, there is another: that a "nice word" doesn't magically retrieve your stuff from all around the classroom where people have thrown them, nor does it save you from a threat by someone twice your size.
This was a difficult lesson, because I had spent 5 years in an environment where I could talk to people and they would be reasonable and do what I said (Yeah, yeah, I'm a bossy bitch. I get the idea.). And still everything would be fine. But I moved from the high maintenance school to the junkie school. And that was the turning point.
Denial has a big role when learning a lesson. Especially for stubborn people like meself. We keep sayng that there is no need to learn the lesson, but most of the time, we are proved wrong.
Anyway, I have come to the conclusion that lessons are something inflicted upon us not nessecarily by us, but mostly by the surroundings we are forced to adapt to; the surroundings that have formed us-or rather forced our mental and sensitive elasticity to bend in ways we never thought we could push them to. And that concludes this prompt...
I hope you have laughed today. I haven't.

My New Blog!

I created a new blog that provides a new fact of the day that you will never find useful and will never be able to use ever again. Check it out?

Question

Hey Zeph I have a question? Are we just supposed to follow the prompts or can we post other stuff too? Like what happened today or something else too?

Sorry

I'm really sorry not being able to blog for a while. School is SUPER busy and stuff is happening between my friends. I'll have to respond to prompt 2 later, I guess.

NEWS ON THE CORRUPTION OF THE LAYOUT

I am about ready to kill myself. I worked at least 3 and a half hours modifying the TDP layout, and I had to switch to a loaded blogger template in order to add the new link sidebar, which will help us to find exactly the post we're looking for and who it was by when we need to find it. Blogger said that they kept a backup of the original template so I could revert to it, and now there is nothing of the sort. I so angry that blogger lied to me. I'm not even being sarcastic. I worked so damn hard on that stupid layout. I do not have the mental clarity nor the will to work on putting this site back together the way it was. I am just too irritated for that. Hopefully it will be back up soon. I'm beginning to hate that stupid link sidebar idea. It's what fucked everything up.

We have a new team member, Bjork. Welcome, thank you for posting so soon.

Everyone else-we're doing great so far, let's keep up on the "daily" bit now that there's a lot of us.

I am now declaring an official "requirement" that you post once a week. The "requirement" is in quotes because if you have a problem or something happens and you can't post once a week, that's fine, just please tell me about it if it's something planned, like a vacation or something. I'll understand that you were probably running into difficulties if you don't post for a while. I don't want you to stress about getting on and posting if you have a lot worse things to stress about. So don't worry about it. Hopefully I won't have to do this, but if any team member was to become inactive (Like, if you disappear without a trace for a couple of months or more) they will be removed from the site. This is a "just in case" thing, I've been at a lot of sites where people just out-of-the-blue decide to not show up any more, and TDP needs to be really active and we all need to work with each other. Thanks everyone!

Prompt Two Response (Lessons)

I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get around to writing this. I haven't felt inspired or anything lately. But I do apologize. And I don't feel incredibly inspired right now, either, but I feel like I've put this off too long so I'm writing it anyway.

A lesson I've learned... well, it's going to sound terribly corny and similar to some of the crap they force-feed you in English class when you learn about symbolism. Since my mom's eyes have been getting worse and worse, I've learned to cherish everything more. I don't know what it's like to not be able to see well, to have to have your co-workers say "Hi, it's So-And-So," as they're walking down the hallway toward you so that you know who they are before they're standing right in front of you. That's the case with my mom. Her peripheral vision's gotten so bad that she can't drive anymore, and her friends and my dad give her rides to places she needs to go. I guess from this I've learned that you need to savor everything you have, because you could lose it in a second. Hold on to whatever you love and don't let it go, because if you do it could be gone forever.

Summary of my lesson: cherish what you have, and don't waste time thinking about what you don't.

I'm sorry this is short and bland and uninspiring and not very well written, but like I said, I'm not feeling very inspired. I promise - next prompt, I'll try and do better. This post sucked.

All the best,
aravis

Lessons- Bjork

I bet we have all already learned this lesson from middle school, but if anything ever comes your way like rumors or such, just don't even say anything at all about them.
You know the game "telephone" where you all sit in a circle and someone says something and it goes around the circle and in the end, you could hear something far from what was originally said? It's pretty much like that.

Also, when guys tell you something, in my case they usually want sympathy. They don't want to know they're or they were wrong. Has anyone had a problem where someone tells you something and you give them advice and really all they want is sympathy and they get mad? When I was younger I tried to help TOO much because i wanted to help people, and then one time.. I just totally gave up on helping. And there is an example down below:

I take things the wrong way all the time. And I feel kind of crappy about it too. When my friend Cam told me he was bipolar and started cutting (even his face) I basically just told him just to get over it. I was in 7th grade and didn't even know the definition on "emotional" or "bipolar".
Now I realize... it was bigger than that and I feel SO crappy about it and we are still really good friends, but when i see those scars I want to break down and cry. It breaks my heart to know one of best friends was hurting themselves physically and mentally, and i blew it off and ... really didn't care. I suppose I didn't really understand, but still. He did get professional help and he is totally OK and happy and better than ever but hes told me so much about it and I'm a much better friend now. How he smoked with a girl who got pregnant (she was 13 at the time. Our school is messed up...) and it makes me so upset.

Don't blow anything off when you see your friend is going through something like that. I'm just glad he's OK and I have learned my lesson even through his time of tragedy.

My Intro- Bjork

First of all, Zeph, this is an awesome website.
I hardy relate to most of you on here.
I do have lots of friends, no money problems and ya I'm just feeling extremely lucky right now. And some how it's making me feel really guilty. Also, I've never hurt myself on purpose...
But I have had slippery slopes in school. That's all mostly.
Let me start at the beginning. In 5th grade, I was super shy, tall girl, a circle of friends. A big circle of friends. And I didn't come to understand they weren't really my friends until later...
Our soccer program in our town sucked, and all the coaches eventually quit on us, so i was eventually forced to go play in another small town if I wanted to play at all. Soccer was my favorite thing in the world, and it still is.
So I go there and all the girls on my team are complete idiots and preppy and called me things behind my back. Everyone got teased. It wasn't just one girl or 2 who were like this, it was everyone. Everyone. Not one person was nice to me. On my first practice i remember we were doing a drill and two girls were talking and they were bff. Then one goes to kick the ball and the other is still by me and she goes "Omg. She is such a f*n bitch." And she didn't say that like she was kidding either. I was still shy and didn't say anything the whole 2 years i played there.
But even if I didn't think it was changing me that I started playing there, it was. I became more stronger and trained myself so nothing would get to me. Nothing at all.
Also, I lost lots of weight. I was a chubby tall kid a while ago, and over that small period of time, I looked like everyone else. I looked a whole lot better.
In 6th grade i had a best friend named Kristin. She was always mean to me and would spread rumors about me to look bigger and crap that would hurt me, and then she would blame it on someone who she thought could take the heat. After 3 years of being blind, I finally figured that out and moved to a different lunch table. (I say that because you are bff with the people you sit with at lunch. It's kind of a dumb tradition kind of thing).
I didn't know this, but other people felt the same way as i did. Around... 12 people. (There were about 16 people in our "Group") They are now my closest friends. The people who wanted to stay the same and figured they'd be popular if they stayed bitches, stayed with Kristin. That was their way. I didn't care. I'd delt with it before.
She figured I was "stealing" her friends and then she'd get mad and spread nasty rumors about me saying things about other people. And from my soccer team experiance, I never let anything get to me. She finally gave up after 1 year. I never fought back.
So basicly, that's my whole life story up until now. Everything else, I'm perfectly fine. I have 2 bff. They are super close, but i'm close to everyone else too and very well liked in school.
I don't trust anyone really. No one because the people you think you are so close to can turn against you in a snap.

A lot of people choose who they think is the strongest person and blame a rumor on them. So I just laugh when a rumor goes around.

I can never agree with anyone on anything. That's what my dad tells me. I always try to prove someone wrong.
I have...well.. (had? not sure) a friend named Caleb. He is totally inlove with my friend and is very.. very.. over protective of her. We talked on IM and he would say something and i would say "No. Caleb your wrong." And prove him wrong. He would get really mad. But I guess that's just how I am. I have to make a point if i think against something. I guess we're not friends anymore.
Oh and i'm also kind of upset that he's inlove with my friend because he never leaves us alone and she hangs out with him and gives him false hope and she doens't get that.

Also, If someone says something and I have to repeat myself and it totlaly makes sense to me (From algebra to... say... why i think the pilgrims should have blah blah) It totally makes me CRAAAZY. I hate wasting time and not getting to the point.

We have a lot of secrets in my family, so I've developed ANOTHER pet peeve. When people don't tell me things. I never understood why everyone moved to Cali, I never knew anything about my granpa, (I haven't seen him since my gram died when i was 6 and... he lives in the same town.) That's a lot of years. I never understood, so why don't people tell me things? It kind of drives me up the wall...

I hope you all aren't upset with me writing so much. :) I guess i"m bored. SO... sorry. :D

Eeek!

I'm sorry I haven't posted a Prompt numero dos reply yet.
Inspiration is pending :D Also, I've been pretty busy with school essays, so I haven't been in the greatest mood.
But I'm pretty bored right now, so I'll post this.
I may or may not have my prompt reply up tonight or tomorrow.

Oh,andIfuckedup.

I just made a HUGE mistake.

And I mean HUGE.
I just made my BFFL mad at me.
Why?
Because of a scene bitch.
Well, actually the scene bitch is my friend too, so I probably shouldn't really call her that.
Anyway...
My BFFL wrote this as her MSN topic:
"You turned your back on me really easily.. I thought you were my friend but still thanks for everything..This is the edn of OUR FRIENDSHIP. Bye..."
You get what I mean?
I feel really crappy right now.
I need help.
I need to fix this.
Anyone out there?
Oh well. I just lost something that was great and fun. And deep. And perfect.
Why?
Because of a scene bitch.
And everyone(a.k.a. my other BFFLs) is saying that she's the one being unreasonable...
But in that case...
Why do I feel guilty?

Dentists

Yes Darling, The Dentist

He pokes and shoves, picks and taps, and most obviously he puts oddly shaped things in your mouth, like; those nasty little fluoride things, those little X-RAY guys, pointed metal objects thats water+vacuum ensemble, the list goes on. Now the only reason I'm saying these unenjoyable things is because I was there yesterday, I was sent to get a "habit appliance" as they so quaintly named it, what this thing does as acts like a fence to stop my tongue from pushing forward and thus pushing my teeth forward, then this lucky little girl gets braces, I haven't had it for 24 hours and I already want to rip it out, but alas it's cemented in there, so in a year or so (one to two years) the cement will start to deteriorate and the "habit appliance" will come out

The Drug Happy and the Fortunate

It rang in my mind through reading some of the newest posts about how drugs are an issue.  I thought I'd like to tell you a little about my view of it, and then at the end of this I have a new prompt for everyone.  Anyway, here I go.

So, I am a pretty well-off kid, money-wise.  Seriously, my family has a lot of problems, but money isn't one of them.  I mean, sometimes we all worry and my mother screams at me about how we can't afford this or we can't afford that, but generally, we clean up.  We live in a very nice neighborhood.  A gated community.  And, if you didn't already know, Arizona is usually the home of older people who come to spend the winter months here because it's not cold.  You know, the snooty rich people with the multiple homes?  Jackpot.

The neighborhood I come from is just about the cushiest.  But I think the biggest problem is that nobody realizes that it's not so cushy after all.  You know, it's not like we're growing up on back streets of Brooklyn, okay.  I'm not threatened with a gun every day.   But Arizona is like the 5th most dangerous state because we're FULL of sex offenders and rapists and violent criminals.  It's true.  We have a ridiculous amount of all of that crime in Arizona.  And our schools suck.  We have ridiculous dropout rates at schools.  In fact, I just found out that a girl I used to know just dropped out of school because she's pregnant.  Pregnant. Pregnant!  This isn't supposed to happen.

So, one day I decided to eavesdrop on these kids in my class, and I found out that there's some guy in his mid-forties who is providing our school with drugs.  Well, the really bad drugs, like ecstasy and heroin.  I don't know where everybody gets the pot.  I mean, at my school we have different "groups" of druggies:

The hardcore kids - The "hardcore" refers to all the hardcore drugs.  Cocaine-Kids, Heroin-Happies, Ecstacy-Eccentrics, blah blah blah. A lot of them wear necklaces that have very obvious references to drugs and nobody does anything about them. They don't talk to any of the other druggies.

The "social" pot-smokers - They hardly ever go to school and usually only smoke at parties.  It's like social drinkers.  They're like the rave kids but think they're a lot better.

The rich-ass alcoholics - Just a bunch of really rich kids who hang out, smoke cigarettes and drink alcohol after school where the people who carpool get picked up.  They're the worst because the school knows about it and refuses to do anything about it.  

Pot-Slugs - I call them Pot Slugs because they trail the scent of pot everywhere they go, like slugs and their slime trails.  They're almost as bad as the rich-ass alcoholics because they do all this during school hours and nobody seems to fucking care.

I'm tired of it.  So tired of it.  

NEW PROMPT:

So, we've pretty much finished the prompt.  If you haven't, or are just joining us, continue the old prompt.

Lessons. We've all had to learn them. Pick a few questions to answer:

What's the most difficult/most prevalent lesson you've ever had to learn?  

Why was it the most difficult/most prevalent lesson?  

What advice do you have to people who have made the same past mistakes you have? 

Are you in the middle of learning a lesson?

What is your view on denial/what role does denial play in learning a lesson?  

If you could go back and change something that you've done [that relates to the lesson you've learned], what would it be and how would you change it?

Why do you think we have to learn lessons?

Learning a lesson involves seeing something you've do/have done and realize that you can't do it any more.  Do you think that on some level we always know that what we do is wrong?  

Are lessons something we inflict upon ourselves?

I might have forgotten to mention this...

I just figured out what makes me different. It's the fact that, when I get in a fight with my mother, I don't slam the door-I'm not allowed to. So instead, to unleash the anger, guess what I do?
Instead of the classic cutting, I grow fingernails. Pretty big ones, too. Well, big enough to make little marks in my legs where I sink them while hiding in the closet.
My teeth work well when my fingernails have been massacred-they leave quite the markings on my hand.....
Oh-someone's coming. I have to go. I might continue this later...

Intro..

Hey, this is my first post for the Daily Pessimist, so I guess I owe you an introduction.
I’m Kerryn and I’m almost 15. I’m quite mature for my age, but other than that I’m just your average girl. My life consists of: stressing out about everything, from school to friends to unwanted hair, watching and quoting Juno, pretending I don’t absolutely love watching ‘Overhaulin’, obsessing over Leonardo Di Caprio, talking, breathing, sleeping and eating. A lot. I love all my friends and family to death, even though sometimes I don’t show it. Did I mention I love to eat?

I think the main thing to think about with this blog is that we all are going through problems, minor, major, it doesn’t matter. Some-one is better off than you and their best mate is probably worse off than you. Wow, I sound extremely Australian. I’ve been following the post of fellow authors at The Daily Pessimist, (kudos to all of you) and I’ve come to the conclusion that I have been handed the better end of the stick. I have friends and a family that loves me. I’ve never been bullied; I’ve never inflicted harm on myself.

But maybe that’s the reason I can be so negative about everything, because I act like I’m worse off than everyone else when really I know I’m not. Maybe deep down inside of me I feel bad that I’m such a stress-head about the smallest things, knowing people who have real problems are the ones comforting me.

Of course here I go again. I’ll lay out my problems for you. My mum and dad got divorced when I was 4. Both remarried. Mum divorced her new husband, resulting in her having a spell of horrible boyfriends. Too old, too young, too time consuming, they all had some problem. The thing is she doesn’t think it affects me or my brother and sister. “It’s none of your business,” this is her favorite sentence. It’s kind of like her word of the day but it’s more like her statement of the decade. Dad is a controlling freak of nature that means well but pisses me off. I only see him once a fortnight and I’m ashamed to say for that I’m thankful. I always turn into someone else around him, the happy chappy with perfect grades and a perfectly fine family situation. I’m sick of pretending.

So I’m sure your reading this saying “Who cares...” well I’m happy to say my friends are all wonderful people who do care about me. They’re pretty much what makes life worth living. Now I’m sounded inspirational and I don’t like it. Well I’m off to see what sort of trouble I can get into.

(Oh did I mention this blog was a kick-ass idea and this layout is awesomely wicked. Zeph, this is all praise for you, thanks a ton.)

It's about time I made my first post...

So, I guess I should introduce myself first...
First of all, I'm Rina. But however I feel like that name doesn't agree with me. I don't feel like Rina. I feel...well, right now I feel kinda like a blank space.
I type in purple. I always did, always do and always will, so don't let that put you off.
What is it that makes me different?
I don't think there is anything different about me. I'm just not the differen kind of person. I don't stand out, I stay in. I have plain chastnut brown hair which I'm dying to have streaked dark red and purple. I am well fed (read: I overeat when I get emotional and then I feel insecure about how I look). I have friends-sorry, scratch that-I had friends who made me happy. Now I don't have them. And once again I look at these 15 people in my class and wish I had a life, too.
I'll admit it, I am a hard-core pessimist.
I always feel the worst will happen--and most of the time it does.
In the idea of creating a "gray area" in which we all have common ground, my views and words represent soothing patches for wounds of the everlasting combat of Person vs. Self to use Lizzie's words.
I don't lok at the world through pink glasses;I see it with my own blurred vision which forces me to wear ugly pink-rimmed glasses. My own vision colours everything purple. Everything purple means, to me, everything worthless to pay attention to.
Maybe one day, however, I'll go through Zeph's metaphorical waterfall and the water flowing will cleanse my vision. And then everything will be good.
What has made me the way I am?
Before, I was a crybaby. I was the little kid.
I had to switch schools and go from an ultimately friendly environment to a violent, attacking one. I swear, I think most of the kids from my class smoke (we're 13, people!) and will probably do drugs by next year. The cool kids aren't a clique anymore; now they're a gang. A gang I don't fit in with. I only have 2 people I can trust in my class; one is a goofy mess who is still just a kid and doesn't have the problems the "big girls" do. The other one is just a mess who has to be pulled away from the biggest wannabe on Earth and restore her character. (I love to do that.)
They, naturally, are geeks-the group I always fitted in with the best.
So the thing that has made me who I am is my school environement. I learned the fake smile;I learned the "frienemy" attitude;I learned to see through people better and I learned who not to trust, no matter what. But most of all, I have learned to swallow the tears. They have never seen me cry. They pull my hair, steal my stuff and throw in around, they hit me with books and pencils. But I don't cry. They are not going to break me, because they built the barrier around me. I couldn't do it myself....
*update*
I also forgot to mention how perfect this layout is. Amazing, Zeph. Fucking amazing.

Why I'm Different.

When I was in 3rd grade I wrote a story about a girl who jumped off a cliff into the ocean. She was smiling as she did it and hugged herself as she sank down deep in the water. I wrote it because I wanted to be that girl. And I turned it in for a school project because I knew no one would realize anything; everyone was too blind. My teacher said the story was childish and my writing is absolutely horrible. I ripped it up and didn't say a word for the rest of the day.
I was always different this way, every teacher and person I met made me invisible. No one could see me. There were only two girls that were willing to be my friend, since 2nd grade. They had me feel like they actually cared about my life. Until last year when they told me that everyone in the world hated me and killing myself would do them all a favor. I lost a piece of myself from that, and it's still not back. I don't think it'll every be back. I've changed even more from that experience, now I don't trust anyone. In my real life, I literally trust no one. I made three new friends this year, but I still don't trust them. The only people I trust are online. You could say that also makes me different. The reasons why I'm still here is my online friends and music. I can honestly say that.
Music plays a bigger part, though. The band that has helped me the most, no doubt, is My Chemical Romance. They are the only source of music that can actually make me feel like nothing's wrong with anything. They clear my mind and leave me with hope. They were my only hope at many points. But sometimes I'm so hopeless and stressed that I forget to listen to music. At those times, I felt the only thing I could do is to hurt myself. By taking my craft knife and making slits on my arms. I first started with shallow, short cut.
There was just so much emotional pain and there nothing you can do but release it from cutting. Most people don't understand, though. It's just you feel this emotion after the cut.. I can't put it in words. I immediately got addicted to that feeling. After my first few cuts, whenever I felt shitty, I went away from music and pulled out that knife instead and the cuts got deeper and deeper. The bigger the cut, the more of that feeling happened afterwards. It's like a drug. I now rarely cut myself. But I hate to admit, every once in a while I just need to feel that feeling again.. But I don't do anything really serious. All of these experiences make me who I am.
Edit: I forgot to mention how fucking amazing this idea of this blog is. And the layout. Sorry for not mentioning that. Zeph, you are TRUELY a genius.

My Turn. Prompt uno!

What makes me different?

First an introduction is in order. I’m Liz. I also have strange names given to me by friends, so be my guest to call me whatever you want to.

Well, a bit about me: I make up my own words and believe in Peter Pan. A lot of people think I say things that Simon Cowell would say, minus the English accent. I just gave away the fact that I have a guilty pleasure of watching American Idol. I have a deep longing to have straight hair. I have words of the day. I’m a teenager, which goes without saying on here. I find music to be a timeless way to express a mood. I quote The Office and House regularly. My deepest wish is that I could be a more quixotic thinker.

Prompt time.

First. Zephyr’s response to this prompt was amazing. Nice job! I hope I can do the same amount of justice.

Well, it’s really disappointing me that it’s hard to thinking of anything different about me.

If you want an idea of my life, picture this: You know those beeping things with the spiky lines that are next to patients in hospitals? My life has been like one of those, only the person the machine monitors is pretty much dead…Monotonous, eh?

In English class a couple weeks ago, we studied the four types of conflict: Person v. Society, Person v. Person, Person v. Fate, and Person v. Self. After reading some short stories (from Poe and and the like) I came to the conclusion that the most important type of conflict that can arise is Person v. Self. In my related essay, I said: “…figuring yourself out is more important than understanding fate, society, or another person.” So I’ve been paying attention to myself. No so much in the selfish way, but more in a way where I really hope to “take notes” on me. I just hope I’m not a boring lesson.

I’ve learned a few things. One thing in particular stood out to me:

I am much more opinionated than I ever thought I was. You know how it feels like sometimes you’re just swimming upstream; going against everyone and their ideas? You’re not alone as long as I’m here. If somebody thinks one thing, then I’m prone to think the other.

It comes out in theology class, family issues, music, just about anything.

Let me break it down for ya.

Example time: This jerk of a kid that I’ve known for a few years was at a party for football several weeks ago. Don’t get me wrong—my school is nice. I just have no idea how this kid got into it. Rumor has I that a “friend” brought out a gun. Being the stupid person he is, this boy took the gun from his “friend” and shot himself in the leg. I just saw him today with cast and crutches.

After the news got around, my mom gave her usual “do the right thing” speech. She told me that if that ever happened to me, I should know to leave right away. Here’s the part where I sound stupid and where my Catholic grade school morals go haywire: I wouldn’t leave that party.

I’d talk some effing sense into the gun handler. Okay; I could get some shot. But I’d go out saving some people that didn’t have those guts.

Where’d all this opinionated stuff come from? What made me this way? I hope you can relate to all this, otherwise I’m ranting for no apparent reason. We’re teenagers. We have our opinions and it’s happened for the history of forever. I can bet you anything that those teenage Neanderthals were total rebels, writing on the cave walls and whatnot.

We go upstream against the common crowds. In some way, we can all agree that it’s because we feel so restrained. Think of this like a 5 year old (because they have the best way of looking at things). Your mom says you can’t have more Halloween candy. It only makes you want it more. So maybe…just a theory here…as teenagers, we have a natural tendency to just go against what people want.

Now I might be copying Aravis here, but I have a similar question. I want to know if there’s ever a point where the wires in life go *click-zap-boom* and all of a sudden things make sense?

Is it called love or peace or rock and roll?

Or does it have a name at all?

So that’s what makes me semi-different, among other trivial things like the minuscule bump on my nose or my comedic timing. My opinion.

Lots o' love!
-Lizzie.

serendipity. it's my word of the day.

My first post? I think yes.

Only reason I'm posting this is so I can attempt to use this "add an entry" thing and make sure I've got it down. Hmm...reall hoping this will publish. I'm so insecure when it comes to computers.
Putting it lightly, this blog is really exciting me. This layout is bomb diggity, by the way. Plus all you contributors and followers look mighty fine. I'm convinced this will be the coolest blog ever. 100% convinced. Just the idea of pure, no-pulp writing from people I can relate to fires me up.
WHOO! I, for one, and pumped.

I love technology. Not as much as you, you see. But I love technology. Always and forever.
--Lizzle fo' shizzle.

My God, I'm Pathetic. But at Least I Make You Feel Better About Yourself.

I find it extremely pathetic that I'm writing a response to my own prompt when I posted it not very long ago and I said I wasn't going to be on and this will be my third post in a row and I'm telling you about everything online.  On the internet.  Where people can see what I've written.  But I've remembered something that I discovered a while ago:  reading about other people really makes you feel better about yourself.  That's why people pick on other people.  That's kind of the purpose of this blog.  We can sit  here, whine about how pathetic and depressed we are sometimes and read about other people and be able to judge them and just generally breathe a sigh of relief that you're not the only one out there who is like this, who feels like this, bleh, blah, bleh, bleh, blah blah bleh blah blah bleh.  Bloo blah blah.  Blah.  Bleh. Bloo bleh.  Bah.

So, you can feel a little better about yourself.  I guess I'm up to sharing this.  I mean, I wish I could say it to SOMEBODY.  So you will suffice. It's not my life story, but it's the part I'm most bitter about today.  I guess now you'll find out why.

So, one day, I was born.  :)  Haha, sorry, I had to say that.  

First of all, know that I'm a very bitter person.  I do, admittedly, hate people for what they've done to me.  I know it's wrong, but I have to.  

 I moved schools after kindergarten, so I had to make all new friends.  And, unfortunately I chose just about the worst person I could ever be friends with.  When all I got was awful accusations and other reactions from the other kids, I really needed someone to reach out to.  And I tried, I did.  I tried so hard that I tricked myself into thinking that the person I chose was my actual friend.  I ignored so much, I just let it go, because it was what I needed and being blind to the truth was what I thought would help me.  Somehow, no matter how convinced I would be that I was going to accept the truth and move on, somehow I would get dragged back in.  I made friends with the backstabbing flake.  For an entire 9 years I disregarded the fact that she treated me like a dirty hand towel.  No, she treated me like used toilet paper.  And the sad thing is that for the longest time, I didn't even know that what she was doing was wrong.  I just thought it was okay.  I smiled anyway when I was completely abandoned when someone better was around.  Even with my other friends, I didn't stand a chance.  If she came up when I was with other people, she would walk up and hug that person and start talking to them, and before I knew it I was just some unnamed nobody standing next to them.  I had been her friend for 7 years. Well, I was her best friend, but, of course, she only said that when we were alone.  Never in front of other people.  I eventually knew that even though we would carpool to school together, we would talk until we saw her friends, and I would just keep walking while she would go over and talk to them without a word to me.  

I treat used gum better than she treated me.

I was inferior.  I was just some other person that she could use.  It's been almost a year since we've spoken [Two words from me, no words from her].  I've known her for 11 years.  I told her happy birthday, even though I could barely stomach the words, and she looked me in the eye and I could tell that I meant nothing to her.  I could barely hold back my tears as she looked at my face like she was searching for my name, but she didn't know me.  She didn't see me.  She didn't care, and she never did.  And the world doesn't care, and it never did.  We're here alone, and we always will be.

I kept everything she ever gave me as a present.  She threw away things I've given her right in front of my face without seeming like a single thing was wrong.  I remember her birthday, I still have her home phone number memorized, and I still don't have a best friend like I did 11 years ago.  It never changed.  I've never had a best friend.  Never, ever.

I can't believe she used me.  And it's all my fault.  I hate that.  Everything that ever goes wrong is my fault.  I can never change that fact, ever.

Every year for her birthday I would spend so much time getting her a present that I knew she would like.  Every year I made her a birthday cake, which she never let me have a piece of.  Every year I would try and make her birthday special, even if it was clear that she didn't care about me and didn't want me there.  She always knew that she didn't need me, and she was right.  

I recall myself counting the end of our "friendship" as my birthday, two years ago.  She'd be in Texas, and I'd get a postcard from her and her family.  I was ecstatic.  I didn't need a present.  Having a friend, or so I thought, was a present enough.  But that day, I walked down to the mailbox and nothing came.  They always sent the postcard a week early, but I had figured that it was just late.  Still, nothing.  I settled back into my room, and I stared at the phone.  She was going to call and tell me happy birthday.  She was going to say why the postcard wasn't there, or to see if I got it, just in case.  It probably just got lost in the mail.  I waited all day by that phone, and nobody called.  And since then, nobody has ever called, sent messages or mail to me on my birthday.  Nothing.  I don't need a present.  I don't need a card.  I'd like a call.  I'd like you to say that you're sorry you couldn't be here.  Or maybe that you're sorry for what you did 6 weeks ago.  That was the last time we talked.

Our parents went out to eat like they always did.  I guess that our parents are better friends than we ever were.  I guess you're more attached to the dirt on the bottom of your shoe than you are to me.  I came over, and I didn't see you.  I watched over your siblings.  They always liked me better than you did.  All that night, I waited for you to come out.  They said you were in your room, but you were probably sleeping.  That night, after waiting two hours for you I realized I was the babysitter that night.  You came out with another friend, and you were laughing with her.  You walked right by me, and you almost ran straight into me, but I moved out of the way.  I automatically said, "I'm sorry."  You didn't say a word, bat an eyelash, or look at me.  I was right there, and you didn't say a word to me.  You hadn't seen me in 3 weeks.  And at that point, I told your siblings I was going to the restroom.  I stayed in there the rest of the night and cried.  I was there, I was there, and you didn't see me.  You didn't care.  I am nothing, I have always been nothing, and I will not ever in your entire life mean a thing to you.

You never called me.  You never said goodbye.  You never said that you were sorry.  But I did.  I always did.

The next year, we didn't talk.  On your birthday, you got a cake.  Just like I used to do.  You had gifts, you had friends all around you.  And then I finally knew that you didn't need me, and you never did.  That's why you didn't care.  After removing me from your life, everything was exactly the same.  Nothing had moved an inch.  I hate that.  Your life was exactly the same, and suddenly I had realized that 11 years of my life had just been wasted, and I will never be able to get them back.  I will never be able to relive them.  I will be missing 11 years, and there will be a giant empty space in my life, in my heart, and in me.  I will always be waiting to get those 11 years of my life back because I just can't believe that it's over, and I've got nothing.  

Well, the only thing I've got that you don't is the gifts we've given.  Because I keep them in my box, where I also keep every letter I've ever gotten from anybody, and you've thrown yours away.  You threw me away.  Like a piece of old gum that's beginning to disintegrate into a runny, plastic-like mess because you chewed it too long.

You used me too long.  Now I'm a mess.  Throw me away.  Replace me so it's like it was 11 years ago.  Sometimes gum gets gross and you need to get a new piece.  I just never knew that friends were like that, too.

Now, I can never trust people no matter how much I want to.  I always think it's some huge trick to terrorize me or make fun of me.  I can never see other people as just being nice.  I try so, so hard, but a part of me always yanks my heart up my throat with a string and makes me stop.  I can't help it.  And every time it happens, it's so hard because I want to crumple into a pile on the floor and cry.  I'm a mess.  A runny, plastic-like, disgusting mess.  I'm scarred and I'm torn and I don't know what to do about it.  That's why I smile.  Your lips get torn apart from each other when you smile wide.  It's a gaping wound.  Just like the wounds that I have and always will have.  And the wider you smile, the more you're torn apart.  But nobody ever guesses.  Ever.  Because nobody knows who I am.  Nobody knows my secrets.  Except, of course, I really do keep living because of my online friends.  Alina's draft post made me remember that.  That's why I'm saying this.  Because I don't feel like I do all those other times on here.  People aren't there to hurt me here, or at least that's how I feel.  And I've already screwed up how people I actually know in real life react around me and how I react around them, so I turn here.  And right now, this is all I am going to discuss.  

This is why I have the attitude I have.  It's why I am who I am.  Really, I feel like even though I hate myself as I am now, I'd rather stay the same than take a gamble at who I might be now if my life had been different.  I might like that girl less.  I believe that one day, it's going to be okay.  In the end, it will all be okay.  That doesn't mean that now is okay.  It just means that somehow, somewhere, some way, we're going to get through this alive and we'll all be glad that what happened actually happened the way it did despite what we think now.  We are who we are and life is how it is because of what's happened.  And if you change something, who knows if it would be worse or better.  But even so, we can't change the past.  We can only brace ourselves for the impact of the future.  I am who I am, and I don't want to risk possibly being someone else because all of this makes me content with what's happened.  Because what's going to happen is going to be beautiful one day.  We just have to wait for it.  And we just have to open our eyes to different kinds of beauty.  There is beauty in pain, sadness, happiness, loneliness, excitement, contentment, you just have to see it.  Life is how it is.  Lay it out straight.  There's not much you can do except hope for the best.  It's a rough ride, but at the end, just be glad that you got to ride.  Don't think about what you could have done or what you could have felt when everything's over.  Think about it now.  And take a deep breath, because somehow everything is going to be okay.  Don't question, just know.  In the end, everything happens for the best.  What you know now and what you've learned is because of what you've been through.  Ignorance is not bliss.  It's wandering through life blind.

Maybe we're not exactly optimistic about everything, but at least we're walking through life with our eyes open.  Don't expect things to always go right, because they won't.  Expect the worst sometimes, because when the best happens you'll be so much happier about it.  Life is awful, but if you really have to, think of it as a contest.  And the more you survive through, the stronger you get, and in the end, the strongest are still there and the weak have eliminated themselves.  Know that life sucks.  Wander through life knowing that you're stepping barefoot over hot coals and broken glass in a narrow dark passageway with spikes on the walls and soot-choked air in your lungs.  Don't close your eyes.  You're bearing the worst.  They think everything is okay because they deny the fact that everything isn't phenomenal all of the time and that everyone and everything isn't perfect.  Pave your own path and see it the way you know it is.  Ignore what people say, because they don't know what's best for you.  They have no place to say what's best for you.  Defy all odds, break rules, force your way to the end, where the coals meet a waterfall.  It cools the stones, and as you walk through the cool, cleansing water, the blood from your wounds is washed away and before you is a lake surrounded by the greenest grass that feels so soft against your aching feet.  And at the end, when everything is over, think about how it would have felt if you had walked through life blindly and you had never seen the waterfall and walked through it.  Rewards come for those who accept things the way they are, as they are, and as they will be.