It is time for me to address my fear that has been in the back of my mind for quite some time.
I have a fear of dying at the age of 18.
While it may seem a little silly because it's so close to being my birthday....I still have have a slight doubt.
My 18th year of life was definitely not a fun one. It's a shame because 18 is my favorite number.
Just today someone jokingly and unknowingly pinned my death date during the sunrise on day of my birthday. I don't technically turn 19 until after sunrise.
I mean, I'm fairly confident I won't die....but that's a little eerie.
Considering what has happened to me this year, the next few days should be a piece of cake...right?
~AM
Friday, May 28, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
"Because you don't f***ing care"
....may seem like a good answer towards most people these days. Especially when phrases like these are used:
"Ah man! I don't know how I forgot that!"
"What? You walked right past me and said that? When was this? Huh...I wonder why I didn't notice."
"How do I not remember that conversation?"
"Why haven't I noticed you before?"
"Why didn't I do my homework?"
"Why do I have such a shitty grade in this class?"
"I'm sorry...I seem to have forgotten your name"
blah blah blah. The truth is...no one gives a damn unless it has to do with them in some way. That's the sad truth. We all have a egoist in us. We don't always mean to not f***ing care about a certain person and such....but it happens. We all have goals and aspirations...and if someone you see every day isn't directly a part of that, well then they will sadly go by the wayside and not be thought about.
People often don't think of people because they just care about them....usually there is something to gain. True, friendship could be a thing to gain. I'm just saying there are an awful lot of ulterior motives.
I don't even know where I'm going with this anymore. I'm just feeling rather cynical tonight. Seeing as how no one reads this anymore because I don't post things on a regular basis...it doesn't really matter anyway.
~AM
"Ah man! I don't know how I forgot that!"
"What? You walked right past me and said that? When was this? Huh...I wonder why I didn't notice."
"How do I not remember that conversation?"
"Why haven't I noticed you before?"
"Why didn't I do my homework?"
"Why do I have such a shitty grade in this class?"
"I'm sorry...I seem to have forgotten your name"
blah blah blah. The truth is...no one gives a damn unless it has to do with them in some way. That's the sad truth. We all have a egoist in us. We don't always mean to not f***ing care about a certain person and such....but it happens. We all have goals and aspirations...and if someone you see every day isn't directly a part of that, well then they will sadly go by the wayside and not be thought about.
People often don't think of people because they just care about them....usually there is something to gain. True, friendship could be a thing to gain. I'm just saying there are an awful lot of ulterior motives.
I don't even know where I'm going with this anymore. I'm just feeling rather cynical tonight. Seeing as how no one reads this anymore because I don't post things on a regular basis...it doesn't really matter anyway.
~AM
Saturday, May 15, 2010
I believe in myself
I don't have a religion. That doesn't mean I don't have faith though.
A lot of my family wouldn't really approve of my stance towards God and religion if they knew. They don't know though. I don't really know myself what exactly I believe in. If God is this angry dominating patriarch or if God is Mother Earth...I don't know. I like to see God as Sophia....or wisdom.
The only thing I can truly believe in is myself and what I discover about this world. I have learned a lot. I might just write my own book in my own bible. Blasphemy....to many yes. I don't understand why it's so terrible...but alright. I'm not trying to start a religion...I just want to get some ideas out there. Like Jesus. More Blasphemy.
My loneliness and I are cool with each other now. I realize that I like what my loneliness does to my character. Contrary to popular belief, I do like who I am more than half the time. I guess...I've just accepted the fact that I'm a lonely transient being that few understand. Something like that.
It bothers me that there are a few people I can't hug because it would be socially unacceptable.
I really can't put my thoughts into words so much right now.
"Look at the frequencies at which I vibrate...I'm going to light up the world"
~AM
A lot of my family wouldn't really approve of my stance towards God and religion if they knew. They don't know though. I don't really know myself what exactly I believe in. If God is this angry dominating patriarch or if God is Mother Earth...I don't know. I like to see God as Sophia....or wisdom.
The only thing I can truly believe in is myself and what I discover about this world. I have learned a lot. I might just write my own book in my own bible. Blasphemy....to many yes. I don't understand why it's so terrible...but alright. I'm not trying to start a religion...I just want to get some ideas out there. Like Jesus. More Blasphemy.
My loneliness and I are cool with each other now. I realize that I like what my loneliness does to my character. Contrary to popular belief, I do like who I am more than half the time. I guess...I've just accepted the fact that I'm a lonely transient being that few understand. Something like that.
It bothers me that there are a few people I can't hug because it would be socially unacceptable.
I really can't put my thoughts into words so much right now.
"Look at the frequencies at which I vibrate...I'm going to light up the world"
~AM
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
Pole Dancing
You wouldn't expect a story with such a title to begin with the phrase "Back in elementary school", but that is exactly how this story begins.
Back in elementary school, recess was was usually a lonely time for me. Those are issues for another time. When I wasn't being a lonesome loner, I was waiting in line for an exciting new activity. On the "Big Toy", there were these monkey bars. No one ever uses monkey bars for their intended purpose of course. People were waiting in line to get to the poles of the monkey bars.
"Twirling" is what we called the activity, but now that I'm older and wiser, I know that "twirling" is a synonym for "pole dancing".
Yes, little did I know at the age of 8 I started my training in becoming a pole dancer.
There were two platforms that lead up to the main part of the big toy. These platforms were placed the ideal distance away from one of the poles that supported the monkey bars. So naturally, we decided to use this unintentional placement of things for a new type of creative fun that involved leaping from a platform onto a pole and doing nifty tricks.
The first and lower platform was for the inexperienced twirlers. Here one could easily grab onto the pole and give a little push with your legs to twirl around. As you got better, you graduated to starting from the higher platform. Up there, you had to make a dangerous leap to the pole. As a result, you had more spinning time (and momentum) to do more spiffy tricks.
Many of us twirled, but only a few of us were built for it. I remember one girl who had the right combination of strength, grace and control. She had a strong upper body that enabled her to do 25 pull ups in gym class without breaking a sweat. She could jump over hurdles half her height like a gazelle. She had strong yet delicate calloused hands from running around on all fours half the time. When that girl jumped onto the pole from the highest platform, she would spin gracefully and purposefully with her hair flowing in the breeze. That girl was me. I was one of the best twirlers that elementary school ever saw. At least, I seemed to think so.
I thought I was pretty hot stuff when I was twirling. Whenever I was done doing some new trick or perfecting the slow graceful twirl to the ground with my legs placed just so, I stood there waiting for people to "ooo" and "ahhh" and be oh so jealous of my mad skills. That never happened unfortunately...but that just pushed me to perfect my twirling even more.
I started doing some more advanced tricks with others. One of us would start twirling at the top while the other simultaneously started twirling at the bottom. We were that skilled.
I practiced my twirling skills as often as I could. By the time I was 10, I was a damn good pole dancer.
Then...we couldn't twirl anymore. No, it wasn't because there were too many creepy old guys staring at us...I think some stupid twirler thought they could graduate to the higher platform and fell and started bleeding or something. Although, I'm starting to wonder if there were some people staring at us as we trained in our pole dancing. That, my friends, is a big ol' cup of creepytime tea to think about.
While I'm not sure my intensive training in twirling makes me qualified enough to list "pole dancing" as a skill on a resume (honestly, I wouldn't put it down anyways unless I was sure it would help me), it at least has some anecdotal value.
~AM
Back in elementary school, recess was was usually a lonely time for me. Those are issues for another time. When I wasn't being a lonesome loner, I was waiting in line for an exciting new activity. On the "Big Toy", there were these monkey bars. No one ever uses monkey bars for their intended purpose of course. People were waiting in line to get to the poles of the monkey bars.
"Twirling" is what we called the activity, but now that I'm older and wiser, I know that "twirling" is a synonym for "pole dancing".
Yes, little did I know at the age of 8 I started my training in becoming a pole dancer.
There were two platforms that lead up to the main part of the big toy. These platforms were placed the ideal distance away from one of the poles that supported the monkey bars. So naturally, we decided to use this unintentional placement of things for a new type of creative fun that involved leaping from a platform onto a pole and doing nifty tricks.
The first and lower platform was for the inexperienced twirlers. Here one could easily grab onto the pole and give a little push with your legs to twirl around. As you got better, you graduated to starting from the higher platform. Up there, you had to make a dangerous leap to the pole. As a result, you had more spinning time (and momentum) to do more spiffy tricks.
Many of us twirled, but only a few of us were built for it. I remember one girl who had the right combination of strength, grace and control. She had a strong upper body that enabled her to do 25 pull ups in gym class without breaking a sweat. She could jump over hurdles half her height like a gazelle. She had strong yet delicate calloused hands from running around on all fours half the time. When that girl jumped onto the pole from the highest platform, she would spin gracefully and purposefully with her hair flowing in the breeze. That girl was me. I was one of the best twirlers that elementary school ever saw. At least, I seemed to think so.
I thought I was pretty hot stuff when I was twirling. Whenever I was done doing some new trick or perfecting the slow graceful twirl to the ground with my legs placed just so, I stood there waiting for people to "ooo" and "ahhh" and be oh so jealous of my mad skills. That never happened unfortunately...but that just pushed me to perfect my twirling even more.
I started doing some more advanced tricks with others. One of us would start twirling at the top while the other simultaneously started twirling at the bottom. We were that skilled.
I practiced my twirling skills as often as I could. By the time I was 10, I was a damn good pole dancer.
Then...we couldn't twirl anymore. No, it wasn't because there were too many creepy old guys staring at us...I think some stupid twirler thought they could graduate to the higher platform and fell and started bleeding or something. Although, I'm starting to wonder if there were some people staring at us as we trained in our pole dancing. That, my friends, is a big ol' cup of creepytime tea to think about.
While I'm not sure my intensive training in twirling makes me qualified enough to list "pole dancing" as a skill on a resume (honestly, I wouldn't put it down anyways unless I was sure it would help me), it at least has some anecdotal value.
~AM
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