What if sleep was like a once in a lifetime thing and we got to choose when it happened and it lasted for like a few years? Like if you had the power to pick a portion of your life to miss and it was a conscious choice you could sleep through puberty or some of your middle age or even choose to rest when you were elderly, like what would that be like???Imagine all that you could get done if you had day and night to do whatever you wanted rather than spend time unconscious every single day. That would be pretty awesome.
This is your life. YOUR LIFE. Don’t let yourself be defined by society and the expectations of others. It’s difficult, sure, to separate yourself from their expectations, but really, you’re better for it. Don’t let others put you down and tell you how to live. Do what makes you happy, what keeps you healthy, and remember to LIVE. This life is all that we have, and if there’s one thing that it guarentees, it’s an end. So make that end be a momentus occasion, a destination at the end of an epic journey. Don’t rush it. Enjoy being who you are, and try to take nothing for granted. Find happiness in the little things, and remember that you matter, that you are beautiful, and you have the power to make YOURSELF happy.
Why is college such a stressful part of life? Why are we expected to pick one topic to study and then find a job in after school at an age in which we are still young enough to be judged if we get married or have children? How can we be too young to commit to a person, and settle down, but be old enough to have to decide the path our career will follow? Like, what the hell is up with this system? Trying to decide on a major and organize a schedule of classes is way to freaking hard! Heaven forbid that your school not offer something that you’re interested in, especially if you didn’t have any other options for college. Joining a circus or commune looks better and better the older you get.
So I think that 10 or 15 years from now a whole generation will be starting school with a ton of girls named Topanga because their parents remember their childhood obsessions with Boy Meets World.
And all of the teachers who are our age will think it’s super amusing, and the parents who are a few years younger than us will think we’re all crazy for naming our kids that, and the older people will think we’re crazy too. We, however, will see it as the funniest, most epic thing ever.
So my sister is staying the weekend with me in my dorm. Last night, or rather, early this morning— like well before the sun came up early— her alarm went off. It didn’t wake me up, but I randomly wake up in the middle of the night and noticed it eventually. So anyway, I’m really confused about where the noise is coming from because she turned off all of the alarms earlier, and noise really echoes in the dorms, and eventually my roommate notices I’m awake. She’s all like “can you turn that alarm off? It’s been going off for like a half-an-hour.”
I was still half asleep, and super confused because It was like the middle of the night and just some random noise, so I’m all like “I don’t even know where the hell it’s coming from!” Anyway, the alarm gets turned off, and we go back to sleep.
So just a minute ago my roommate looked at me and said something about “If that alarm goes off again tonight,” then says that it was going off for like an hour and a half last night— a BIG time difference from what she had said, then tells me that she didn’t want to wake anyone up about it because she didn’t want to wake up the wrong person and make someone mad, which I guess I get, kinda-sorta-not-really.
I just want to know, why the hell would she think it was one of my alarms if we’ve been sharing a room since August? Like seriously, it’s been almost three months.
I want to meet someone who will matter to me. Not someone that I matter to— I’m not really afraid of heartbreak— but someone that I will cherish. I’m so used to guys showing a little interest in me, and me not being able to commit. I guess I just want something to prove that I can feel the same about someone as so many of my friends do.
So, my roommate asked me and my friend to quiet down a little while ago because she has a test in the morning and was trying to sleep.
Now, she’s laying in her bed playing games on her iPod.
Bitch, my conversation about Harry Potter is more important than your freaking game.
So, my roommate’s a panic-er. A few minutes ago she couldn’t find her debit card, and freaked out. I mean, that’s completely understandable, but it’s two in the morning and she’s calling her father freaking out and asking him to suspend her card. Turns out, it was laying on the floor under her bed the whole time.
Like, I understand being in panic mode when the physical link to your life’s savings is missing. I get it. But I don’t get all of the other times that she’s freaked out. Like, that time she was crying because she didn’t get her Stats homework. Or, when her paper wouldn’t upload. Or that one day when she thought she was going to fail her test the next day.
Honestly, most of this wouldn’t bother me too much if it hadn’t all been within the course of the last week and a half. I don’t handle panic well, or tears. I usually awkwardly leave the room and hang out with the RA.
I guess I’ll see how my roommate handles my semi-annual mental breakdown around finals, then she’ll see what it’s like to have a crying, irrational roommate.
It’s so strange to think that so many people that I’ve met on tumblr, and never necessarily talked to are going through the same stuff as me right now. Transitioning into college life, dealing with leaving their friends behind- there are so many of us who are adjusting to a whole new world, and all we have to show for it are sporadic posts on our blogs.
So there’s this guy, and I’ve gone out with him twice. He’s sweet, but I’m a cynical bitch who can’t put up with people and is about to move three hours away. Over the past week, all he’s wanted to talk about is a new job he got that he’s quit already— that makes two places hes put in notice to in less than seven days. Anyway, the other day he asked me if I would be mad if he read my blog, which I mentioned when we talked about hobbies. He seemed upset when I said yeah, I would be.
But seriously, what did he expect? A “sure, read my thoughts after I already told you I post them online so that I can be heard without having to talk to people I actually know,”? Hell no. This is mine. This is not for those who I interact with daily. If I wanted those people to know what I say here I would tell them. Like many of you, there is a reason I don’t post my URL on Facebook.
BTW- if you’re reading this (and you know who you are) you don’t want to know just how infuriated I’ll be if I find out.
Why are we all so obsessed with gaining more followers? Is it because we need to feel special? We want to feel like people care about our interests and what’s going on in our lives? Why do we take it like a personal insult when we lose a follower? In the end it doesn’t matter. I mean, seriously, years from now we won’t care how many followers we had on blogs we started in high school. I truly think we should all just appreciate the followers we have, and not spend so much time trying to gain more, or complaining about losing one. We should all just enjoy the freedom to express ourselves that blogging offers.
Bit of a rant, but I felt that it needed to be said.