Wild Dogs

“We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken.”

-John Green, “Looking For Alaska”.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this- sometimes quotes just resonate with me, and I can’t stop analyzing them- and I’ve drawn some conclusions. I feel like I need to get them out into the open, so apologies if this is long and confusing.

I believe that this is true. No matter what happens to us, so long as we hold onto the hope that the future will be better. As I thought about this, I realized something; perhaps Mr. Green had the order wrong. Perhaps the true statement is “We can never be irreparably broken because we are never hopeless.” If you are completely devastated and everything is taken from you except your hope, are you broken?

I believe that you aren’t. Hope is the last thing that can be taken, and the only thing that will never be taken, because hope comes from somewhere within ourselves. If we truly believe that things will improve, then they will, but the second we lose that spark of hope, we’re done for good.

I told this to C when he was upset. My words came out all jumbled and wrong, but I was trying to say that giving up isn’t an option, because if he didn’t hope that things would be better, they never would be. Because if they did, he wouldn’t know it. If we get too bogged down by setbacks, when the setbacks right themselves, we’re too far gone to realize. And things to eventually right themselves- “this too shall pass,” and all that. It’s the nature of life to go in cycles.

I wrote about this in my English essay. I said that the only way to get out of the labyrinth is to love. Suffering is a part of life, and the only real way to avoid it is to acknowledge it and move past it. You can’t move past something you refuse to deal with. I can’t go through life pretending that the bad things aren’t going to happen, because they are, but I can go through life knowing that I will always believe things will improve, and that they always will.

I think this is a fundamental difference between me and some people I know. I believe passionately that if I let myself think that everything is ruined, that no one will ever make things better in the world, that it’s going to hell in a handbasket, then what chance have I got at making anything better? The people who save the world are the ones who believe in it’s ability to be saved. You can’t help something you believe is already ruined.

Tu es muy bonita

I’ve kind of been a pathetic blogger lately; I really get mad at other people when they do this so I guess it’s about time I updated.

Well so today is the superbowl. YAY! I love the superbowl, it’s my favorite thing EVER- if the superbowl was on all the time, I would never ever ever hang out with anyone, ever, that is how much I love football. I’ve always kind of wanted to be on a football team- me and my family play all the time, I get really into it. I’m super competitive, arguing every play. Sometimes I play with my friends, although a lot of them aren’t as into it as I am.

We’re having tacos tonight! Yum. I love tacos.

Except now I’m kind of craving Japanese food.

http://www.theage.com.au/ffximage/2005/10/13/Megumi_051013113803812_wideweb__300x375.jpg

My family and I went skating today on the lake in Vergennes! It was good fun. But very cold. BRRR. We skated for about an hour and a half, then went to un Petit Café to get le chocolat chaud. Except it was the unsweetened kind (what the HELL is that) and so it was really awfulawful.

Lately I’ve been in the mood to be able to play guitar and write songs.

I have plans on Valentine’s Day this year for the first time ever.

Update

This is so an update.

Willy’s Gonna Hit That, He’s Gonna Hit That, Willy’s Gonna Hit That YES HE IS

I think it’s time for a happy blog post!

Fancy that!

So on Friday I went to C’s band show, and saw his band and two others; it actually turned out being a lot of fun, even though I was terrified of both the place and the music.  I met some neat people (…. one neat person) and it was another of those teenager-y moments I love. I still don’t believe that I’m actually in high school and a teenager and allowed to do all those things like go out with your friends or drink coffee. So whenever I do, I feel like I’m breaking the rules.

On Saturday it was winter ball, which was again a surprisingly good time. Layla and I went to Sammi’s beforehand, and went in the hot tub and got ready and gossiped and basically were just stereotypical teenage girls. It was nice!  The dance itself was quite entertaining. Lots of fun dancing; the only downside was that TK the DJ wasn’t there. The most entertaining part was near the end of the dance; Zsa Zsa was beyond tired, and she kept speaking in a British accent saying things like “I am not a vampire!” and, when I found a piece of down fuzz on her hand, “That’s not my hair!” “I know, Zsa.” “Don’t tell C!” “Don’t tell him what?” “That it’s not my hair!” I got home around midnight (OMG TEENAGERY) and ate some rice and went to sleep.

Yesterday I did family things in the morning, and in the afternoon I wanted to hang out with Nemmies, but couldn’t. Mum got me a neat shirt from Montreal. It’s blue and has a penguin on it!

Anyway, that’s all for this pathetic blog post! It’s happy though, which is a nice change XD.

Not Right Now

I always thought that it was okay to stop, because I’d get some kind of ethereal warning.

And I guess this is it.

http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/endocarditis/DS00409

Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseohgodno

Thoughts On God

For me, God has never been a religious affiliation. He*’s been a coping mechanism.

I used to think that there was a God who looked out for everyone, and made bad things not happen. After I thought about it, I realized that bad things do happen (more on this later) and that if God really was looking out for us, he’d have made it so bad things only happen to bad people.

So what if these people were bad? What if the people who bad things happened to were bad? They’d done something to make him angry. I immediately connected this to being a Good Little Girl; if I’m good, then God will watch over my family and friends and make sure everybody is safe. This is called Magical Thinking, according to my therapist, and is common in small children.

Unfortunately, I never grew out of it.

This is the reason I’m in therapy, the reason I can’t sleep at night, and the reason that I’m constantly tapping my fingers 1-2-3-4-5-7-8-9-10-11-12-13 times.

I think it has something to do with my personality: anxious person+ guilt+Magical Thinking= Crazy.

I tap my fingers every night 13 times on each finger, 2 rotations through the whole set (it used to be more but I had to change it due to involvement with the devil). Every morning when  I wake up, 3 rotations. Every time I think something bad- what if mom got in a car accident what if dad tripped what if Whiche got hurt on the playground what if Lynnie cut her arm- another rotation (again, I’ve had to cut these out).

When you think about it, really think about it, humans are incredibly fragile. Every day, thousands of us die. And I can’t escape the odds that one of those thousands of people is going to be someone I know. That the teenager who gets into a car accident on their way home is going to be my best friend, or that the crazy man who tries to bomb a plane is going to succeed, and he’s going to be riding on a plane with my mother on it, or that someone’s going to go postal and shoot everyone in sight and someone i love is going to die.

I just can’t escape the odds.

So I pray that somebody, somewhere knows how to, and knows how hard I try. It takes me hours to fall asleep for counting and listening and worrying, and that’s a small price to pay. I’d do double that if I had some guarantee. I’d do double that even without a guarantee (and now I probably will). Because why leave it to chance, when chance has been so unreliable in the past?

* I know that God may not exist, and even if God does exist, God’s gender cannot be proven. I am speaking here from my perspective, and in my mind, God is male.

Ponderance

I learned today that I’m exceptionally bad at listening, consoling, and all sorts of friendship.

I’m not looking for pity, it’s just true.

I have some friends who think I’m good at comforting and empathizing- I’m just good at pretending. I nod and listen and know exactly what they want me to say, so I say it; but I don’t mean it. I say I’m sorry, he’s awful, doesn’t deserve your time, just forget it, it doesn’t matter, when really I’m thinking how could you ever get involved with him? it’s your own fault or you’re a jackass who doesn’t care about anyone but himself but I’m very good at tricking you all into thinking I’m comforting you.

There’s only a few people I honestly try to comfort, and those are the ones I fail at comforting the most. I try so hard to make you feel better, but really it does no good. I just don’t know what to say. I’d take away all your pain if I could. I’d hug it out of you so it would be in me.

I’m Vaguely Attracted to Rooftops

I saw him today, and we made eye contact. I tried to smile, but doing that didn’t exactly *work*; it looked more like I was crying. Which part of me was. He didn’t acknowledge that he saw me, just kept walking.

What happened? Honestly, what *happened*?

I got home and talked to my mum. “Are you really that upset about it?” I thought about it for a minute.

Yes, I am upset. But why am I so upset? Because I liked him, and he doesn’t like me? But I knew nothing was going to happen, I didn’t want anything to happen. I suppose I just wanted there to be potential for something to happen?

& someone elses face flashed into my mind.

Wait, what?

& again

Stop. Stopitstopit.

& again, smiling this time

& again, “hey!” in intevention

… I don’t understand.

Wintertime Epiphany

This morning after I showered and wrapped myself in a towel, I walked past the mirror in my room and stopped to look at myself, really look, like I haven’t done since this summer.

I started with my face, scrutinizing my eyes, my nose, my lips, my hair, and  frowning at what I saw there. I studied my shoulders and neck, my arms, my wrists, felt myself smile slightly. I looked at my legs, pale and limp, completely unmuscled.  I squinted, trying to find out whether they were acceptable or completely hideous.

After 15 minutes, I finally realized something.

i love my body.
It took months, but I’ve finally learned that who I am is who I am, and I’m okay with that. Happy, even. I know what I can pull off and what I can’t; I know where I can flatter myself, and how to do it; but most of all, I know that whatever I look like, the people who love me love me no matter what.

And if they don’t, then they can just fuck off.

Mantras

There’s no real *reason* for me to be upset, I just usually am. That’s because you’re an overreacting insecure crazy bitch.

Today at dinner, a cold caller called (ALLITERATION) and tried to talk to my dad as he was slicing the chicken. Never interrupt dad when he’s slicing the chicken or drinking his wine Thoughtfully.

I tried to tell them that we shouldn’t get mad at telemarketers because it’s only their job- it’s not their fault they are generally hated. They need the money, and it would suck to have your job be a Professional Pesterer, so the least we can do is be polite and maybe even kind? You’re too naive to know anything. You’re going to fail in the Real World- you can’t see the bad in people.

What if I’m really just crazy? What if I think I’m being a good person and whatnot, but really that’s just crap, and there’s no such thing as karma and all of this is for nothing? so insecure

I used to be fine with myself and then somewhere somehow along the way things got changed. Things are changed now. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt only disgust. no one cares.