No one will read this.

But I’m ok with that.

Once upon a time, there was a group of us that always blogged. High school friends, going through the basically the same issues as each other.

We’ve basically stopped this system, because college means more to do, breaching out and exploring the world. I don’t find fault with this at all.

As someone who started blogging when she was 13, but didn’t really set up a schedule, I feel like my whole relationship with the process was skewed towards emotional times. “I only blog when I’m emo”. I don’t remember if I or a close friend said this. I’d say this shows the way high school kids think about blogging overall.

So why am I blogging now? I think I was recently struck with this feeling, an inherently introspective feeling. Thus, my subconscious drove me to blog. Probably because no one keeps an actual journal anymore (pen and paper? what?).

I think that, considering this emotional association I have with personal writing, my overall lack of blogging in college has been positive. I have been able to progress as a person without spreading my every thought on the internet. Yet, I feel like it is possible to blog positively – I know that Shaunacy still does (even if she says link and pictures don’t count).

I would love to blog actions – things that I’m doing, things that I’ve seen recently.  Pictures. I feel like this is what was inherently missing in my previous years of blogging. There was a lot of musing, not a lot of action. I still love thinking, obviously. Moreover, I can’t pretend like I’ve completely grown out of that adolescent state of mind. You know the one I’m talking about. I think it comes back to haunt all of us every once in a while. The point is though, how can someone grow if they are not being actively engaged by outside factors?

In other words, if I was ever to pick up blogging again, I would want it to look more like the news section, the arts section. I’m cool with opinions, but not all the goddamn time!

Here was the feeling that I had, that I still have: emotionally, I am still a child. I am inherently jealous, I’ve realized. It’s that little brat that you see, grabbing something of value out of the closest little kid’s hand. That little brat, she is me. Back in the day, like any self-interested teenager, I used to list everything that was right and wrong about me. I agonized about my faults. I don’t keep a list anymore. I’ve learned that focusing on others is a more productive way to improve yourself.

There are some problems that perhaps don’t have solutions. I’m beginning to see the cyclical relationship I have with my emotional faults. It’s frustrating, but I can’t help but feel like I’m on the brink of something: the corner in this circle that will launch me into a healthier mindset.

I feel like I need an emotional paradigm shift. I won’t get it during these last two weeks of the semester: I’ve already set the tone of this semester. I have so many hopes for the summer, despite being home the whole time. I think I need time to rest. Be a hermit, but also a nomad. Hopefully by the end of it, I’ll be able to face a new semester with a sense of optimism. Life is short, I might as well enjoy the brief moment that I have as much as I can.

Maybe it just hasn’t hit me yet.

It doesn’t really feel like the end.

I look around at my friends and I know that I’m supposed to miss them when I’m at college. But I don’t think I will…? And that’s not because I hate my friends or whatever. It’s because I know that they are going to have an amazing experience of their own, and that I will be seeing them over Winter Break and Summer after our first year of college, and all that jazz.

To me, this isn’t really the end of anything important. Just high school. Most of the high school experience wasn’t that important to me. Yes, I enjoyed learning, and having some of my teachers, and making such amazing friends. But in college, all of these things are going to expand tenfold. I’m going to be taking awesome classes with amazing instructors and I’ll be meeting so many new friends and having so much go on… it’s going to mindblowingly, ridiculously fantastic.

Leaving high school…I have no sentiments, really. I’ll be seeing the ones who were important to me soon enough. Despite my full-time job, we’re going to spend an ungodly amount of time with each other this summer. We’ll probably be Skyping while we’re away at college. And then we’ll come full circle when we come back to Ventura.

It’s life. Let’s not get all nostalgic when we have so much in front of us.

I’m ready to move on.

Apparently I made an impression….

I hadn’t even planned to speak… but there you go. The City Manager, Rick Cole, officially likes me. It’s rather flattering, really.

http://www.cityofventura.net/cmblog/2009/04/finding-wright-answer.html

In other news, AP tests? Yeah, I’m stressed. But recently I’ve had this overwhelming sense of fate. What needs to happen will happen. I’m just focusing on taking life one day at a time. And I guess that’s all I have to say for right now.

Swings.

As I’ve told many of my friends, I wish I could spend the rest of my life on a swing in the middle of a park.

I would watch the children chasing on the playground, the lonely old ladies walking their poodles, the couples strolling to nowhere in particular. I would constantly feel the rush of the wind as it tickles my exposed toes, brushes against my grinning face, and weaves through my tangled hair. I would sing to the abrasive, squeaking rhythm of the rusty metal as it strains against my oh so enormous weight. I would go high, so high that I am airborne for the slightest of seconds and every descent is a shock to my system as I hit the swing once again. I would contemplate jumping off every so often, but then would realize that there is nothing out in the world that I really desire more than to live as an observer, a neutral body in our conflict-based world. I wouldn’t need food, wouldn’t need sleep. All I would run on is the air, the trees, the night, the clouds. My thoughts.

I would forever be young, in idealistic spirit and vigorous physicalilty. In fact, I wouldn’t mind being younger in spirit than I am now, since I am only a common example of our generation’s premature apathy and world-weariness. Forget Peter Pan and his adventures, my eternal youth would be perfectly content with quiet introspection and innocence.

Yes, this is all escapism nonsense. But it is where I thrive.

“Oh I am a dreamer, but I’ll deny it ’til the day I die.” – Brooke Waggoner