I want to change the world, instead I sleep.

I hate when people tell me to “shut up”. That is one of my biggest pet peeves, especially when it is unexpected or said in an angry manner. Don’t tell me to shut up, I’ll say whatever I want to when I want to because chances are I’m not offending anyone and chances are I just want to talk aloud. I came to this conclusion when Tom said “shut up” to me when I told him he had to be quiet because my mother was sleeping and if she wakes up angry she will send me to school. And I looked him straight in the eye and said very politely “don’t tell me to shut up, I’m glad we could clear that up”. Just say, “please be quiet.” How hard is that? 

she thinks happiness is a map that sits on her doorstep.

Sometimes changing is the hardest thing a person can do because the past seems to be choking any desire they may have to become a better human being. This is becoming my everyday life. Yet strangely I feel content about this.

everyday is a start of something beautiful.

I have so many thoughts and feelings in my mind busting to come out that whenever I attempt to speak my stories and ideas become a jumbled mess. This happens nearly every time I try to answer something in English class. The scenario usually goes like this: A great question is posed, I raise my hand whilst formulating what I wish to say, I get called on, and then proceed to open my mouth. However, past that is when things get kind of crazy. All of my emotions come rushing to the surface and it gets harder and harder to properly finish my sentence. I get the vibe that my classmates don’t think I’m competent enough to answer a simple question. Today is good example actually. My English teacher, Ms. Farrell, asked the class what they like about poetry. I personally love poetry, so I tried to describe how it feels to hear an amazing poem or just watch someone perform their own written piece, that feeling is getting butterflies and chills from your toes to your throat. It is really an extraordinary feeling, honestly. Anyway, later that day I went to Ms. Farrell and tried to explain to her that I really do love writing and I am trying to pick it all up again and how I am going to enter in another contest this weekend and she was so supportive. God bless her soul, man. Major down light of the day though was when I had a panic attack right before school. The last time I had one was when I was about to go to Canada with my dad and I just became super anxious. It was terrible.

God, Gold & Glory

Today was a rather strange day. To begin with I woke up pants less sweating (lovely image, right?) in Becca’s bed. The heater was on full blown “melt Emilie” mode, so I quickly moved into Grandma’s bed because she went away upstate and the window is broken so I received a cool breeze from the draft. Around 10 am, I went over to Dana’s to babysit Aiden which was fun and relaxing. We listened to mellow music and once he feel asleep I cried for a little while. Is that sad? I felt so inexplicably content that I just needed a good few minutes of happy crying. I soon became really enraged when my father didn’t come to pick me up until 2:50 and I had a study group at 3:00. So I frantically made phone calls to postponed our meet up until 4:00 pm. At 4:00 I went over to Starbucks to meet up with Jessie. We were supposed to study for AP Psych but soon got distracted by life in general. We talked about faith, shopping and grades. It’s crazy how connected you can feel to someone in the right setting. Faith wise we discussed my lack of ever feeling like God has spoken to me and her past history with her faith. I felt like it would be a good discussion to have since she recently came back from a mission trip to Toga and I had youth group later that night. We both spoke of our rocky past and having not believed and my wanting to believe in God but not being sure. It was a really interesting discussion and I felt like it was far more valuable than studying for our test (not that much more valuable because I need a good grade on that exam so we rescheduled for an actual study group on Monday). Jenn picked me up from Starbucks at 6:15, she is so nice. Her mom heard that I hadn’t eaten all day so she made me grilled cheese sandwhiches:3 what a sweetheart. It was Mark and Marty’s last day so that was sad. I hadn’t really gotten to know them so I wasn’t crying or that upset but I can understand why everyone would be sad; they have touched so many people’s lives, it’s crazy. One the ride home Jenny told me maybe I should pray for my sister (“hey, it can’t hurt, right?”). Praying is so hard for me because I feel like it is all so forced. Praying is such a forceful act for me. I have to force myself to get on my knees and say a quick prayer and I don’t want that moment to be forceful. It doesn’t seem right. To wrap up this almost page long analysis of my day in three words; “it went well”. I’m glad I’m alive.

starting this.

I used to write a lot as a kid and this is really my last chance effort to become a better and well developed writer. Writing is something I have always done as a side thing, a rushed moment filled with emotions that I needed to rid myself of. However, since this is hopefully becoming a more mundane everyday task to do, I’ll become better and better at it. So this is me throwing caution to the wind, let’s hope curve ball doesn’t whip around and hit me straight in the nuts. Cool.