Change. Sucks right? No matter good or bad, I don’t like change. In the end I do! But when I feel it happening….I never like it.

When I feel a change (meet a new friend, learn a new art style, start a new book, get to a turning point in a book, etc) I resist it. I often feel like I’m losing myself. I often grab ahold of the past and hold on for dear life (generally by reverting to unhealthy habits. *cough* working on that……). I don’t like to change. I don’t like changing my daily life.

My biggest change of late is that I’ve been spending every day with two friends of mine (in particular) both boys. Playing video games. Reading manga. Drawing. Fun stuff. ^_^ Here’s the problem: my life used to consist of the internet all day. Now I’m almost never, EVER on. Not that it’s a bad thing. But it’s change.

So guess what I’ve been doing? Listening to a band I haven’t listened to in almost a year (a good band, but a metal band that tends to not do good things to me….lol [side note, I just changed my music off of it. yay acoustic bands]), reverting to old habits (none of which are healthy. TRUST ME!), and most of all…thinking!

Change also reminds me, that I can’t think of a single time of my life that I’ve been perfectly happy. No problems. Most people think about happy childhoods. Hah. I don’t like to even touch the subject of my childhood. So the more I go “God I don’t want things to change”. The more I remember how much my life has sucked in a general way. The more I remember, the more I don’t like living in general.

Don’t get me wrong! I’m not suicidal. And I don’t always hate my life. But you can certainly see why I don’t like change.

Deep down though, I know that I can’t get anywhere without change. I often dream of getting married and having a family. Maybe being an English teacher, publishing a book or two! Getting a better camera, and maybe, just maybe, selling some of my photography. I always dream of change. But when I’m in the midst of it I scream and kick my feet like a two year old not getting their way.

Today is the beginning of the rest of my life. Of beautiful and wonderful change. Some things will suck. Life will get rough. Or more, stay rough. But if I don’t change…..I’ll be stuck here for the rest of my life. In this state.

I’m tired of fighting. Bring on the change!!!

Do you know what those are? Most people don’t.

Yesterday I was watching a rerun of the MTV movie awards – and yes, I wanted to watch them. I like a lot of the new movies (yeah, even Twilight, but only because I read the books), but as I was watching I was awed by how base our society has become. I turned to my dad and said “Do you think someday people just won’t wear clothes?”

Sounds a little absurd right?

Wrong.

Consider how people dressed in the late 1800′s. Long dresses, bonnets, and blouses for the women. Boots, flannel shirts, and pants for the men. Now consider what we wear now. Tank tops, mini skirts, bikini’s for the women. And men, well, they haven’t changed too much. 

On award shows we see women with no backs to their dresses (I love Sandra Bullock, but she’s a good example), barely covering their legs, chest, etc. 

My brother told me one man wore a man-thong type outfit. Butt exposed. 

Remember when we used to censor that? 

The world is quickly deteriorating, it’s somewhat understandable, yet, shouldn’t someone stop it? 

In today’s culture it is rare for there to be two parent households (male and female parents – not talking homosexual parents), and it tends to be the man who is missing. 

A father is meant to instill right and wrong into a child, while the mother instills compassion and love. Without the father, the child has little to no morals. Along with issues of abandonment. 

So of course these children fall into bad habits, such as sexual promiscuity, alcoholism, drug addictions, street violence, etc. When these happen, the cycle continues. 

So now we are left with a society of obnoxious children, teens, and even adults. People with no morals. People who either don’t know right from wrong, or ignore it. 

My school is a great example. During senior presentations this year there were probably five or six young women who told the entire school that they either had a child, or were expecting one within the next few months. Middle schoolers and high schoolers have almost no respect for authority – only the toughest teachers ever get anything done. Last year there were five fights and three arrests. 

 ”He who spareth the rod hateth his son: but he that loveth him correcteth him betimes” (Proverbs 13:24)

“Withhold not correction from a child: for if thou strike him with the rod, he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and deliver his soul from hell.” (Proverbs 23:13-14)

As a result of all the hippy, feminist, and human rights (I believe in individual rights, but that does not mean ‘do whatever feels good) movements people have begun to believe that it is even wrong to spank and punish the child. “They are free spirits, I will not crush their souls.” In my opinion, there is a big difference between making them behave the moral code, and ‘crushing their souls’.

I am the biggest person there is against child and spousal abuse. But I do not believe that spanking is abuse; here’s why: When you punish by spanking or other forms of punishment for wrong doing then you are teaching. But when you spank your child with no cause, that’s abusive. And I don’t ever, ever, believe in beating.

My point is, society has slowly but surely morphed into a society run by untrained, immature children. When these children grow up they have children, and they become our leaders.

Things can only get worse, unless parents take a stand. Only parents can fix this problem. But I don’t think they will.

I must admit, I won three awards. Honor roll, yearbook staff, and student of the month. Those I can attribute with character, but there were people who lack character winning the same awards.

Our business teacher stood up and rattled on and on about “these awards will serve you well, keep them.” and things to the effect of ‘unless you win awards, you are nothing’.

Good grades show a good work ethic, but to be honest, worth ethic is nothing if you don’t have character, honor, respect, and morals. I’ve watched from the seats as people who I consider to be mean spirited or arrogant people get award after award, teachers adore them, and so on. Are teachers and administration so blind? Do they only see grades and not character?

I have heard our principle talk often about ‘showing good character’ and yet I don’t see it anywhere in this school. There are a select few students who have good character; whether outwardly or inwardly.

I often find myself trying to do the stereotypical things that, to our society, prove good character. But who says that those are the things to do? And furthermore, I am of the belief that when you make something like “feeding the children” a norm, it lowers the meaning of it. When everyone, including selfish, arrogant people, are awarded for these things, congratulated and acknowledged, I think it takes away the meaning for the ones who really do want to do the right thing.

Shame on us. Shame on us all.

Shame on me for every moment I spend complaining about my life – so it’s a little hard; but it’s nothing, nothing compared to what children go through in other countries. Rape, murder, genocide, starvation, AIDS, the list goes on and on.

They have no clean water, no fresh food. And yet here I sit, here we all sit, upset that we don’t have nail polish, that we’re sick, or even about hard stuff like ourselves being raped, our parents dying, abuse, so on and so on.

I’m not sure about who the most wicked country is, it’s not a competition. So we have rape, violence, etc etc here. But they have that other places as well! The thing about us is we’re lazy, we’re stuck up, we’re blind. We don’t care about the child dying in India or Africa. We sit in our own misery, blissfully unaware of the three year old starving to death tonight.

How dare we! How dare I! How dare I sit in class, thinking “No one understands, no one cares. These people know nothing about pain.” I know nothing about pain!

This is all kind of just pouring out of me, the truth stings. Right now; I feel utterly stupid, utterly ashamed.

I’ve always said “Just because your pain is not as bad as someone else’s doesn’t make it less important to you.“. True. But right now I realize that it all doesn’t matter, it really doesn’t. For my friends: don’t think that I want you to stop talking to me! Don’t think that I will stop talking to you. We all have our struggles, we all need to talk, but…we know nothing about pain.

I have honestly never been more ashamed in my life as I am now. As I look over my life, right this minute, I realize I am a hypocrite, I am selfish, and I will change that.

This task seems daunting, because every day, no matter how determined I am; I always slip in to a state of depression at one point or another. Teaching myself that my problems are nothing, to really feel that will be difficult.

But I can’t go on living this way, and neither should anyone else.

Shame on us all.

I’m reading a book called “Do Hard Things” by two twins: Alex and Brett Harris. It’s an INCREDIBLE book. I’ve barely cracked it and I am beyond motivated….motivated to change the world.

Here’s the thing, I don’t know how. I don’t mean to complain or anything, just, figuring out how to change the world. It’s hard.

And further more, it’s impossible.

Here’s what you can do though: change lives.

My dreams always change, that’s the bad thing about me. At this particular moment I want to start my own business; a coffee shop/bakery. I like the idea, cozy, simple, I really want to do it. Here’s the problem, I also want to help people. How?

Even if I knew how, where would I find the money to help as many people as I want to help? I want to travel, minister to people, feed starving orphans in Africa, Asia, India, even here in the US. Perhaps the bakery part will help with feeding the starving orphans. lol.

Anyone have any ideas? Anyone want to help me?

Trust. For some it’s as easy as breathing, for others, it’s as difficult as breathing underwater.

I used to be one of those people who would tell a stranger what I was feeling. I wasn’t afraid of anyone, I thought everyone was nice. I thought everyone cared.

In the past couple of years I’ve been through kind of a lot, not that I’m complaining – but it’s changed me. I don’t even trust my closest friends from time to time – because I’m afraid to scare them off.

So publishing this is a form of trust I suppose. Maybe I have more of an intimacy problem? Who knows.

All I know is that my goal in life is to be able to tell my best friend’s everything. They know who they are. I want to be able to say “Hey, I’m having a bad day, and yeah, I wanna talk about it!”. Most of all, I want to be able to say that I’m fine, and really mean it. Every day of my life.

This is a more personal note; originally written for my person facebook page. I was infuriated when I wrote it; I apologize if I may seem harsh. I’m just so tired of some people.

Do we ever really realize what our words mean? I know, I need to work on it too, but really, do any of us?

I guess I only start it off this way because the most obnoxious always have really loud grating voices (and I pray that I’m less loud than I once was). One particular voice I can never get out of my head; if there’s something mean to be said – I know it’s in her mouth.

I don’t like to rant about people, but I’m at the end of my rope. School; for the first time in my life-was fun! Was is the operative word here.

I’m starting to realize how weird people think I am. That I’m someone who needs to be pitied, stuck up for, made fun of, or taken care of. I suppose this is for good reason; unless I talk to someone I know well I tend to not talk much. Yeah, my hair is too short, yeah, I’m fat. Yeah, I don’t want to waste money on uniforms. and Yeah, I’m not wearing tight shirts in that stupid school-those guys. Bleh!

Honestly though? There are some arrogant people in that place; people who I’ve heard speak, and honestly, don’t know as much as they think they do. Here’s the problem: They don’t think! Period!

There are some awesome people at school too! People I want to know for a long time-but they are few and far between.

Many days I wish I could be invisible; or at least that people really got to know me. I have a group of friends who get me, many I’ve known for a long time. When I’m with them I’m happy and normal. Any truths that may echo in my past are muted for just a little while; but when people pity me or judge me, call me “the weird girl”. It only reminds me of how abnormal I’ve always been. It reminds me of everything I keep inside.

It’s not like I was raised with slow people, or in an awful house-it’s small, but not awful. I don’t see how I am abnormal, yet I stand out in the crowd-and not in a good way I fear.

Funny thing is, I have both my parents, my dad has a good job, we’re not on wellfare. We’re not poor. I don’t sleep around. I know not everyone at my school is like that-but I fear the ones who do mock me are.

I need to be less prideful, that I know. In truth though, I’m sure half the people in my graduating class cannot write like I can. I’m sure many can! There are some brilliant minds roaming the halls with me. Many people swallow the government bs, don’t think for themselves. What makes them think that they can mock me?

The past is always being written, never changing – yet changing all the same.

We can’t change what happens in the past, no matter how much we yearn.

Lately I’ve been kind of missing some people in my past; friends. Never lovers, simply friends. Friends who I may not have been super close to – but I deeply treasured; and always will – my time with them.

Sometimes it’s the little things that make us happy. Little interactions, little treats, little tasks. We always try to recover these. Sometimes you can, treats and tasks. Interactions are never so easy; once the interacties are gone, they’re generally gone for good.

I’m hitting a point where I am completely compelled to change my entire life. To elaborate: I want to change my diet; starting with veggies, home made breads, and home made sweets. I’d eventually like to ease off the sweets at least- if you know me, you know I’m overweight; I love my sweets. I also want to change my sleep schedule; though I enjoy staying up late; writing, reading, watching tv – I want to start sleeping earlier and getting up earlier. I get up early already for school, but I want to get up early just to say “Hello new day! Inspire me!”; I’m always happier when I do.

I don’t know how to change that; I feel like I simply can’t where I am. Everyone. Everyone. In this area is lazy as heck, it’s hard to overcome. Sleeping enough, eating right, making money. For some reason eludes me.

Sorry this was rambly….Just thinking.

Self injury awareness: I’ve believed in it. I am an advocate of many self injury awareness groups. Today however, the bitter truth struck me.

When I first heard about “self injury” I was fourteen years old. My first boyfriend had just left me and I was sad. I was watching a tv show where the killer was also a self injurer. She killed because they laughed at her for it. I decided to give it a try.

After much harassment from many of my friends I finally stopped…but not for good. Probably a year later I began that unhealthy habit again, it was the darkest time of my life, and my only way to let my pain out.

The truth is, however, I would have never started if I hadn’t have heard of it. I could never consider harming myself without suggestion. So, should we be telling young people about it? Opening their young minds up to the habit?

I’ll be truthful, I love writing books. I love writing books about people suffering, people who ‘cut’ themselves. I’ve been reconsidering. Should I publish a book that could influence someone to do something harmful, and potentially life threatening? Should any of us?

This is a very hard call for me personally. I have a very dear friend who has been injuring herself purposefully since she was in the sixth grade. I love her dearly and I certainly understand – she’s had a hard time at life, I would never judge her. She would have never started if she had never read a certain book. She told me once that she thought “why not?” (correct me if I’m wrong..) and “the rest is history”. She is now in therapy to help deal with the trauma behind her self injury. I pray that someday she’ll be able to say “Yes, I used to cut, and I’ve been clean for twenty years.”

I get both sides of the story. I want people to understand self injurers. To not make fun of them and instead see past the cuts, bruises, and burns; and to the pain that is going on in their soul. At the same time: Should we expose innocent, young, possibly troubled minds to the option of hurting them self?