Whelp, this post was going to be about addictions, lies, and etc. It’s been sitting on the dusty draft shelf for a while, but I decided against it since that’s not what I’m feeling at the moment. Random notion, I could post everyday if I wanted to but out of sheer laziness, I never finish anything at all. Forgive me. The title has nothing to do with what I’m going to rantle about. By the way, rantle is just a new word I’m making up as I’m typing at this very moment. Rantle is a mixture of the words rant and ramble. Creative,I know. Making up new words reminds me of this one book called Spindle by who knows. It was my favorite book as a kid. Not that you care. OH MY GAWD. My life just flashed before my eyes. I literally, but not really, just died. I accidentally deleted this whole post thus far. I had given up on life for half a millisecond and screamed in pure dismay. But then I remembered there was a little thing called the undo button. Thank you, whoever you may be, for creating that wonderful thing. You are a saint riding the wings of a unicorn flying through a rainbow of Skittles, landing in the land of milk and honey after high-fiving Jesus.
Speaking of dying, I’m 110% FUR SURE that my house is haunted, but who cares. Not my parents obviously. One event out of many was that I was doing my hair in the mirror of my parents bathroom, it’s much bigger then mine so I could see my beautiful self even better (kidding), and I’m fixing a stray hair whilst singing like I’m George Harrison himself. The freaking closet door to my right slowly opens and like any black person in a scary movie situation, I bolted the chuck outta there. Like seriously, I wasn’t going to be the black person that dies first. Or the white girl who always manages to trip when the killer is chasing her. And how come most scary movies end with the brunette white girl living.
Oh yeah, the title of this post is just some lyrics from a song called “Home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. It’s quite popular.
Ummm but on a serious note, I have these moments of life reflections and stuff and I guess I’m the weirdest teenager in the world for that. I haven’t even lived two decades and I’ve been doing this deep thinking other level chiz since I was ten. I remember I used to cry at night, every night, praying to Jesus about the problems of the world that I knew I could never fix. No, I wasn’t a perfect kid, but I did know that everything wasn’t sweet and dandy for everyone. And I guess that’s what the world, education, society does to you, from a very young age.
First you find out that yeah, not only do your actions affect you, but others as well. (I’m going to use the word “they” occasionally to portray the world or society.)They teach you that everyone is different but only to a certain extent in which you will be a freak, criminal, etc, if you do cross that wavering line. You’re taught that some people are just more powerful then others because of the fact that they have more then you. Then they expect you not to turn into a greedy, selfish citizen. You’re taught that in the past nor now is everyone equal just upon the fact of appearance. Then on, the seed of needing to be the image of perfection is growing within you. I suppose it’s just human nature to judge outwardly though since we have no insight of what goes on within another–not even ourselves entirely. You’re taught to fight for others but to also win in your own terms. You’re taught to color within the lines, read between the lines, and stand in line. We’re taught so many things by so many different people. Believe it or not, but you are not all you. You are your mom, your pastor, that one bad event, that thing you saw on that one commercial, that song, that girl you broke up with ages ago, etc.
Who are you?
Who am I?
Sometimes, I’m not too sure who I am. One minute I’m this, the other, I’m that. Yes, I’m just a teen, but I’m sure you never truly “find yourself” in your twenties either and then on. If you’re trying to find yourself, stop looking because you’ll be soaking in what others want you to be. You’re looking at an actress on T.V, watching a singer on Vevo, or seeing a celebrity spiral down into a disaster. Stop looking. You’ll never find yourself. Make yourself into who you want to be, based solely on your beliefs, heart, and what’s there in the ol’ noggin.
But truly, it takes some serious cheeseballs to not care what everyone else is doing or saying. When everyone is going one way and you’re going another, it can suck chestnuts sometimes. WHO LIKES TO BE LONELY? Monks probably but whatever.
So suck chestnuts and do what you have to do to make you, YOU.
Not in a selfish way, but fulfilling way. I don’t mean going around doing dumb chiz saying, “I have to do what I gotta do for me.”
Well I’m done c: (Finally!) Forgive me if it was too long but yeah, that’s a piece of me. Every word I type is a piece of me I suppose.
As always, may the odds forever be in your favor c: