2004-10-11
realizations
I am a Junior in High School. This means I am in my third year, and I am over sixteen years of age.
...16 is a lot. It is one hundred and thirty-six if you add it to all the years that preceeded it.
More numerical analysis deduces that I am Old. I have lived nearly one thousand days, to be sure.
People depend on me. If I'm not there, it matters.
I make no difference in the grand scheme of things, at least not yet. (I have yet to fully admit my insignificance.)
Anything that I really want is going to take a lot of hard work to achieve.
Nothing is as easy as it seems. It is as hard.
There are people right here- within tangible reach- that are smarter than I am.
I need to get more sleep.
I am not as great as I have led myself to believe in the past. Humility must be savored.
I have a favorite person who(m) none could ever compare to.
Everything I want should be totally worth the pain to get it.
I need to keep in touch with my grandmother more.
I need to stop with the self-deprecation
There is something wrong with wanting to be alone. I'm just so used to it. Must find a balance.
I'll never be satisfied with my level of intelligence. I must accept this, even if ironically.
It is October. The days of no responsibility are OVER.
I'll never be good enough for myself. I am very self-critical. I might not see anything wrong with living this way.
I beat myself up. It's like that time after a speech round last year in Missoula. I knew I had done a bad job on my last speech. Petie offered a back rub. My latissimus dorsi and etc. muscles were really tense. She kept pressing really hard and told me to tell her if it hurt so she could massage softer. It hurt like hell. I kept my mouth shut and absorbed the pain stabbing down even so far to the bone. I needed it. Beyond ouch. I was wincing on the inside, but it was just what I needed. This sounds morbid, I know. It's probably one of those underlying exhibitions of my inner-psyche. Don't run from it.
People don't just know the way that you feel. You sure as hell can't read their minds, so they must not be able to read yours either. (Great, I wandered into second-person POV so now I am lecturing myself.)
Never ever ever stop persuing greatness. Remember that stupid quote that you hate- reach for the moon because even if you miss it you will land among the stars blah blah blah.
Don't hate people for being wrong.
Press on little camper, PRESS ON.
Post Script: I love you, Edward.
leesah-likes at 6:45 p.m.