Remember to stop pushing people. Stop pushing and pulling people to goals they don’t want. You’re hurting them you know that right. Your pushing and pulling is intoxicating. You’re poisoning them with your whims and not allowing them to develop their own. I doubt you mean too, you probably don’t know what you’re doing. I know I know some people require the push, but there is a point where a push is just you throwing them off a cliff. There is a better way. Don’t push just talk. Find out what they want appreciate their wishes. Maybe give them advice, help them out. Just don’t push, don’t throw them off a cliff.
I don't particularly know what to say today. I used up all of my creative juices last week. I often wonder what's up with these quick bursts of energy why can't I constantly feel inspired. I don't like sporadic stuff. It makes me feel unbalanced and off in general. Yeah that's all I got.
Life is weird. Why are we brought into a world in which we are given a short time span to live 80 or so years and then killed? What is the purpose. We believe each individual life has meaning and it does. For why else would we be here. Yet we will never know what our meaning is. We might guess what it is. We might work hard to find out what we want it to be, but we never will really know. And I don’t know if that’s a bad thing or not. Then I come to this thought of how our actions now can affect the future. I often change my opinion on this matter. At one point in time I believed we had no free will and everything we do now is already written down somewhere. But we do have free will. In a sense. My most recent conclusion to this big question is as follows. We have free will to an extent. We can do whatever we please in the present, but the future is set in stone. This is one of the more common beliefs over free will. Yet if you ask Matilda, she will tell you that we have total control over our future. Which I find cool. I’m not going to dismiss her idea because the idea is pleasant. I would like to believe it, but I just can’t. What do you believe?
Guess what?! I’m posting every day till next Saturday, September 8th.
I’ve reached a point again in which I have to let everything I know go. I’m more inspired then I have been for a while and I want to take advantage of it. I spent the last week spending all my free time working on my book. I had wanted to reorganize so many of the details for so long and I finally got to it. I felt happy while doing it. I wasn’t forcing myself I was seriously having fun making obsessively detailed tables. I was told to design this poster and I had a genuine idea. Something about this time of the year revitalizes you. It doesn’t honestly make sense does it. Starting school again shouldn’t make you feel so inspired. School is supposed to make you feel dragged down, but that isn’t how it is for me. During the summer I am so bored out of my mind, that I just don’t want to do anything. Sure my posts are more inconsistent during school, but that’s because I’m doing other things that I never felt like doing before. Now this blog has been added to the things I genuinely want to do. I started this originally to prove to myself I’m good at this. Now I see that. I see that what I am doing here is actually doing something. I notice people coming back and more coming in. So yeah I want to keep doing this. I want to keep writing. I want to be famous and still have this blog. I like this blog because it’s personal. I don’t have to worry about people judging me for what I’m saying. I’m completely anonymous here. Someday I hope that I’ll see people I know reading this blog, without a clue that it is me. I think this is one of the first posts I have written that has remained on the same topic the entire time.
We’re all stuck in this loop. It spins and spins and some jump out only to vomit up all they’ve collected. Everyone’s stomach is spinning and the pain is unbearable. We don’t know when it’s going to stop. I just hope that I make it out someday. Maybe there is a future beyond the spinning circle, but we aren’t allowed to know that. I know many people have probably told you to hold onto hope, it eventually will get better, but how are we supposed to believe them? These are the same people telling us that what we are is just a phase. These people just don’t seem to get it. They don’t get that even though their fight is over our fight is just beginning. We still need to stand up and fight in our revolution. We need to fight for our right to marry. Our right to go into the bathroom of our gender. We’re fighting for everything we can and refusing to live off the scraps they’re giving us. We’re fighting for those kids who are still killed. Who’s parents throw them out onto the street. We’re fighting for those who have gone through unbearable pain just for our rights. We know we might not be the end of this. We aren’t even the beginning. We all believe that it isn’t too much to want this to happen in our life times. I hope that you get that. We aren’t fighting because it’s just a phase. We’re fighting because this is our life and we don’t want anyone telling us anything else.
I am someone who tumbles and falls and doesn’t stand up. Someone once told me to stop looking at the bottoms of my feet and crying and I was severely confused. For I am not that flexible and would never cry in such an uncomfortable position. That same person used to be my best friend. I don’t understand my past or the decisions I made. I often question how small my brain was to fall for such tricks. I now wonder what I will think of myself in the future looking back at what my friends from now did to me. I know this is short, but I have nothing else to say. Just remember you’re choices are what makes or breaks your inevitable future.
We live in a world were success in mandatory. Without success we are seen as trash and thrown in the barrel and burnt to a crisp. We try so hard to impress our peers that we make ourselves into walking pieces of plastic or we cram our heads with useless facts. You’re either smart or your pretty if you’re anything else you’re useless. People who are creative sometimes get credit, but never the new up and coming ones. I don’t expect to get a famous publisher to want to publish my stories. Or an agent to either consider being my agent. I’m young and I’m dumb. To them I’m easily manipulated out of my share. I’m honestly scared to go out and search for an agent because I’m afraid of what they might do. I’m afraid they’ll want half the ownership of my book or more. I don’t want to lose the rights to my brain children. I want them to be mine. I’m scared that an agent will tell me my writing is trash and incenerate my career just like that. I’m scared of so many things, but overall I’m scared of success.
Hello! Today I have something very special in store for you guys. I’m joined by my good friend Sophie from Sparkle News. We will both be doing a post on each other’s blogs. On my blog you will see soon we both did a piece on power. On her blog you’ll find a piece on a country or countries we’d like to visit. I will link her blog at the end of this post so you can check out her blog and my post on there.
Here is Sophie’s piece:
Due to unforeseen circumstances Sophie’s piece will not be going up. You can still check it her blog to see the piece I did on there with her.
I greatly apologize.
Now here is my piece:
It doesn’t take much for me as a person to go from feeling all powerful and the best in the world to a complete and total loser. A few words that meant well are often taken completely wrong. Constructive criticism often feels like an excuse to make fun of someone. In this world, I feel so freaking powerless. When I was younger I would burst into tears randomly. These outbursts always led to so many people asking me if I was okay. Of course, I wasn’t okay, someone that’s okay doesn’t start crying for no reason. Eventually, I learned to control my emotions. I can tell when I’m about to cry by a tingling in the bridge of my nose. I open my eyes wide and avoid what was causing me pain.
I seemed to have gained some sort of power over my emotions. Of course, the power I felt was just an illusion because late at night I’d break into tears and be scared to close my eyes because of the monsters that haunted my mind. Still to this day when I try to sleep I have to try as hard as I can to keep my mind blank otherwise gruesome and horrifying images show themselves to me.
I feel powerless when I’m walking for I have this unexplainable urge to be in front and walk fast. I start freaking out if someone who walks fairly slow gets in front of me. I’m powerless when it comes to these feelings, they control me. I become irritable and most people can’t stand me during these times.
Most of my life makes me feel powerless. I don’t know what to do when I freak out I let my emotions control me and I lash out at people I care for. I find that the only thing I really have power over is my writing. I can control this keyboard and the pen in my hand.
The sudden fountain that springs up in front of you. It covers you with the black goo it’s spitting out. Slowly it consumes you and you can do nothing about it. The world around you is spinning. You’re perfectly still, but the whole world is spinning. In these final moments of your life, you think of everything you’ve ever done. All your accomplishments that have led to this slow and dizzying death. No one will ever know where you disappeared off to. Most will assume you just ran away off on another pointless adventure. Eventually, someone a few centuries from now will find your bones perfectly preserved in the tar. They’ll examine you and determine your age, gender, and even what era you’re from. They might notice the remodeling on that one bone you broke as a kid. Maybe they’ll see where you were stabbed in the leg that one night. Your leg never worked the same after that. They might figure out your profession from occupational markers. Maybe they’ll try to find who you were. Maybe they’ll figure out who you are and maybe they’ll try to contact your few living relatives... if any. Maybe people will miss you. You might go into a museum as evidence from the past. That’s all you are anyway, evidence. These people bottled up their feelings long ago. How else are they supposed to deal with dead bodies?
At this point, you probably forgot that how you died was so strange. Maybe that was your mind compensating for how terrible your death actually was. You were stuck in the tar for what seemed like forever before you actually died. Next time when you’re adventuring maybe you shouldn’t step in the mysterious substance. Of course, there won’t be a next time. You’re dead after all, face it.
Describe failure to me. Is it that pit in your stomach you feel after you realized you caused it. Or is it that smile you fake trying to show everyone you’re perfectly fine. It especially hurts because you told your group that you didn’t care if you won or not because you really do. This is the reason you hate group projects so much because the group environment throws you off your game. You’re a solo act you’ve always been. Sure these are some of your best friends around you, but that doesn’t mean it makes it any easier. You’d rather be with complete strangers. You’re friends with them because they’re like you. A bunch of you working together is just plain stupid. Who thought this was a good idea. You know this is going to happen again. What are you supposed to do just reject being in a group with your friends? You know nobody else wants you in their group, remember you purposely avoid talking to other people. They all think you’re a freak, antisocial, loser. That’s why you always lose.
Describe winning to me. It feels good right. Yeah, not for long. See the only one who really cares that you won is you. The fact is you always win at this and it doesn’t surprise anyone. Honestly, everyone hates you when you win. You act like a big, selfish, loser. Your big smile just makes people want to gouge out their eyes. You know they don’t get it. They don’t get how much this means to you. Sure you win at this particular thing every time, but you never win at anything else. You do hundreds of things and this is the only thing you ever win at. All these people in the crowd win a whole lot more than you. That’s why they don’t get how much this means to you. Maybe that’s why you always lose.
I understand okay. I understand how much you want to win, but when you do no one gets what it means to you. I understand how hard you push to accomplish because someday someone will be happy for you. I understand that people like me and you are the ones who will eventually accomplish the big things. We are the ones destined to be on TV nominated for those big awards. When our names are called as the one who won a ginormous smile will grow on our face. When we walk up that stage we’ll break into tears when hundreds of hands slam together to make that terrific noise. We’ll open our mouth and thank all those people who never understood. We are the ones who will win something that very few can say they won. I can promise you that’s why we always lose.
I have a tendency of writing when I get stressed. Spilling out all my emotion into something that no one could possibly understand. Most of the time it’s a nonsense poem seeming to be talking about one thing to most people, but meaning something entirely different to me. I’m actually very glad I found out I could do that, because before I knew poetry was actually not all that bad I would try to sing and dance to get rid of stress. As soon as I started writing I realized how stressed dancing actually made me. Up until a year ago I took five dance classes a week and I had a headache by the end of most of them. I would freak out when I saw the girls on pointe because even then I knew they would never move me up. Something about me just wasn’t pointe material. I left dance though. Another thing I recently quit was choir. A rather innocent thing to quit you would think. See I’ve been doing a choir forever and I can tell you that the one thing I’ll always remember from choir is the people. The whole atmosphere always made me uncomfortable. Sure I love singing, I’m pretty good if I do say myself, but I just didn’t like the people. I’ve gone so far from the topic of writing at this point. See what I’m trying to say is that over the past two years I really have discovered myself. I went from being a dancer and a singer two very extrovert things to being a writer and a theatre techie two more introvert things. I’m not saying I’m an introvert, I’m really not. I just don’t want as much attention to be on me. The less attention there is on me the less stressed I am and the more likely I am to succeed, then I can handle the attention.
I'm undeserving of this. I look at the views on this blog everyday and I just don't get it. I'm undeserving of this. I don't get why you guys feel the urge to read what I'm writing. I don't even like reading it sometimes. It's not like I can figure out why you read this stuff anyway. Not like any of you comment. I'm a starving writer. I get writers block so often that the only way that I get these posts out is by just randomly clicking keys on my keyboard. I feel forced and stressed daily to be a certain way. I refuse to be that way. I create characters out of nothing draw them out in my mind viewing them from every angle every way possible. So I guess in a way I'm trying to thank you. So thank you!
The world is pulling me under. Suffocating me in its grasps. In one second I might die or succeed in everything. I don't know where I'm going. I feel trapped. I don't understand why I can't understand. Why is up all of a sudden down? What is the reason behind this madness? Where am I to go after the fact? Who pulls the strings? Am I just a puppet? Please don't let me drown. I need to see tomorrow. I don't understand why. I want to live a real life. I drag myself down. I can never live a real life. I feel trapped in a circle. Over and over I will fall into the void. I'm dead inside, yet I'm still functioning. I'm still alive to you. I am trying to survive, the apocalypse. The apocalypse has already begun. We are already losing and no one is doing anything about it. I fear for the ones who come after us. They will not be able to live with what we let them. So I fear for everyone. We can live, okay.
What's the point of having the power to make a difference if we never lift a finger. We criticize the people who try, but never try ourselves. I guess you might have a reason to criticize them if you've been in their shoes and done better, but I doubt you have. Sure you have the freedom of speech, but your speech bears no fruit to make it worth it. You blabbler away all day with nothing acomplished from it. So what is your purpose? If all you plan to do with your life is criticize other people's efforts. So maybe once in your life maybe you should lift a finger. Speak to what you believe and then actually take a step towards accomplishing it. You have the power to make a difference, you just never tried.
I'm sitting down now and forcing myself to write. I want to let the rage out and confuse myself. I want the words to spill out and form a masterpiece. I know that this won't be pretty. I know this is choppy, but what else can I do. I'm a minor detail in this whole world. I'm just a little speck of dust compared to the whole universe. My actions might seem insignificant, but they really aren't. Think, what can happen from one action? Imagine how many people you'll meet in your life, you affect all of them. You might feel insignificant some times, I know I do, but we do more than we think. Many will have children, and those children will have children. You are the source of thousands of humans. You are not insignificant, you really aren't. That woman you just smiled at, just decided that maybe the whole world isn't evil. That man you held the door for, felt for once that he wasn't invisible. That little boy you passed the ball back to him, would have run into the street if you hadn't. That little girl you just gave a piece of chalk, will be a famous artist. That baby you started at, for a little too long, will remember your smile as the first time someone loved him. We don't notice how our little actions really affect the lives of others. Just know they do.