Catching Up///sorry..

This is me, actually doing the blogs..catching up....


Topic #8: For lack of a better word…
What is my life lacking? A hobby. I need a hobby, something to occupy myself with. Sure, I write, and sometimes I like to pretend that I work out…but this isn’t anything that I have to do, that my Dad would remind me to get ready for, or you know? Something that is a must. So that is something I am thinking about. Something to do…What to I myself lack? Patience. And sometimes the ability to believe in myself. Yes, definitely that one. Sometimes I don’t give myself enough credit. I know it, but it doesn’t really change anything. Why is it an obstacle? Well, because I hold myself back. From a lot of things..and I know it, but what can you do?

Topic #9: Let’s talk about sex ba-by.
Alright, this one is interesting enough. Well, I think that men could definitely go without women a lot easier than women could go without them. I mean, humans as a whole are dependant creatures, right? We crave company and things of the sort, but overall, I think that men could just handle it better. What girl likes to be alone? None. And if someone tells you different, they are big fat liars. No one likes to be lonely. Which is the better sex? I’m not sure, and I know that’s a cop out, but deal with it.

Topic #10: Hidden beauty
Hmm, I definitely think that there are still wonders in the world that we know nothing about, or just a select few have even imagined. And I believe that some of them are right in front of our unsuspecting faces. I do. I think you just have to be in the right mindset, the right time in your life to see these mysteries. And I hope to god that one day I will happen upon such a thing. Whether it is a place, a fact, or a true love. I hope I find them all. Because if they aren’t out there, then what is this life worth living for?

Topic # 11: Essay topics…
My favorite topics are:
The best summer of your life.
Write about something that truly changed your life.
Write about dreams.

Dreams… one of the weirdest dreams of my life, was also one of the scariest. It wasn’t in my point of view, but from another’s who I didn’t know at first. (This was definitely the most detailed dream I’ve ever had, it was like a movie or something.) The narrator of my dream was a girl, who’s voice was muffled from crying, so I didn’t recognize it, and she was reading letters. Letters that I had written to her. The first was me saying farewell because I was running away from home. I told her that my destination was Chicago. The second letter that I wrote to her, (and mind you, as she was reading them, I was watching myself write them and act out whatever they said in my mind, you see? Like a movie.) was me telling her that I was stopping on and off along the way to the windy city, that I got small jobs to make money and I had my cat with me. The letters following got sketchy. They sounded less like myself and more like a stranger, like someone…not yet crazy, but definitely a little off. It was scary. Another letter was me freaking out on her for not sending me a letter for my birthday. I was seriously mad that nobody cared about me, but I hadn’t given anybody an address or any other way to reach me…I was slowly going crazy, that much was clear. And after reading all of the letters that slowly got worse and worse until they were just scribbles and babbling from me, in my mind, the focus changed to one of my best friends, Shayla, who was standing at a podium, crying and reading my letters. I had written the letters to her, and she was reading them at my funeral. It morphed so I saw everyone in my life crying on each other, mourning my death. Shayla stood in front of all of them and explained that the police who found me, sickly skinny and dead in my car, had found a letter I was about to send to her, and that’s how she learned of my death. That image of me, skin and bones, hair dirty and matted, lying down in the back seat of my car, pale and grey, disturbed me more than I can explain. That was the scariest dream I’ve ever had.

Topic #12: Responsibility
Wow. Responsibility.. Just reading that summed up story about the man who was stabbed. That is terrible. That nobody would help, even after the stabber had fled, who could do something like that? Who would lift up a dying man, and lay him back down to die on the streets? I definitely think that the people watching, the guy taking a picture, the man who stabbed him, are all guilty of something here. If you don;’t help, when you are perfectly able to, well, shame on you! You know better, I know you do, so how can you live with yourself? I know that I couldn’t. ugh, some people.