Things that make me happy: the 1975, the fact that all my friends are so happy, the fact that the holidays are coming up. My boyfriend and all my amazing friends. Dancing and music. Feelings, even though they suck.
I’m genuinely happy and I’m so thankful and blessed and thrilled.
I hope things don’t take a turn for the worst.
I am blogging. I am (strangely) not stressed about the last two math homework assignments that I did not do, nor about the history test I have on tuesday. Nor about the zero I got in English for not turning in the poster (because I’m gonna get that fixed tomorrow, but whatever).
Everything is falling into place, I just need my straight A’s. But I guess I mean, I’m gonna have to work for them, no?
I feel physically exhausted and its really only 11 pm. I have no focus when I need to get things done so I end up staying up later to get them finished.
I still have to memorize about half of La Fontaine’s Le loup et l’agneau. Thank goodness it rhymes so much.
I have to learn to relax and not be so tense. Not to freak out and not to stress too much. A healthy balance of stress.
I have so much to be happy and thankful and joyful about. Focus on that and keep a natural amount of stress.
Aw but you’re so sweet and so nice and I absolutely adore talking to you. Asdfghjkl why do I do this to myself? The perks of over thinking everything. Well- no. I like this. I like the fact that theres no strings attached and we’re good friends and you’re nice to me and I’m nice to you and you actually want to talk to me. It feels nice. But who knows what could happen?
Anyway, lets change gears and talk about how I have less than 5 teabags left of my favorite tea which I can probably only purchase online for a ridiculous price (plus shipping and handling). I ran out of my lychee mentos the other day. All our little Singapore favorites are slowly being eaten up :( But at least we still have one bitty container of kaya jam left, the big citrus tea and 5 or so bags of my Alexandria tea. :)
every time a boy pays attention to me i fall in love for like a week
Except awkward moment when that boy starts to like you back and then you’re like ahh wait no I didn’t see you like that I literally just met you.
Yeah. Now it feels awkward… or maybe its just me. Like always.
BUT WHATEVER BC ITS AWESOME ANYWAY
Casually waiting for the day that I am finally fluent in French. I just want to be a junior already. To finally get pinned and think wow- every thing that I’ve worked for to this point is real now. I’m a real IB student now.
Why can’t that come sooner? Well, here I go again looking too far ahead and not living in the present.
The older I get, the more jaded things seem.
People are constantly talking about how falling in love is all about finding your ‘other half’. Well, I’d like to take a stance on this and say its not.
The other day, while scrolling down my dashboard, I came across this one quote. I don’t remember it word for word, but the gist of it was that in order to be in a successful relationship, the two people must first learn to become independent. To become a whole. A successful relationship isn’t built of two halves becoming one, its comprised of two wholes.
I’ve learned this along the way. You can’t be fully happy and invested in a relationship if you are not fully invested in yourself yet. If you’re so busy being the half to another person, you forget about yourself. Then, if that half isn’t necessarily your half, or soul mate if you want to call it, what’s left of you?
Learn to be yourself on your own first and then learn not to depend on someone too much. Then, when the two of you are whole enough as a separate, you can be two wholes together.
Best friends | Soul mates | Separated
Its always really hard for me to watch Celeste and Jesse Forever because it resonates with me so much. Celeste is the most honest female protagonist I have seen portrayed in a film so far. And it hurts me to think about how much I relate to her. The constant neurotic desire to be right.
I want you to admit you’re wrong! The amount of times I have wanted to yell that. I literally cried the first time I watched this movie and it just gets more and more relevant. I can’t be Celeste. I have to accept that I’m wrong and learn to be happy.
Seeing where she went wrong always makes me think about where I might have gone wrong.
When I grow up, I want to live up north. My vision of ‘up north’ includes houses with red brick facades. Public transportation that’s so convenient that I don’t need a car. Maybe even an Ivy League education from Brown along the way. Go picking for blueberries, like I’ve always wanted to do. Go hiking, go camping for goodness sake. New York City does nothing for me. The bright lights and the advertisements plastered across every high rise, almost literally screaming in your face LOOK AT Me. Nothing. Its nice to see, the allure of it all gets all of us at some point. Those same bright lights and alluring posters do give a certain type of thrill. But for me, its not the thrill that makes me want to wake up every morning, look out my window and see them. I have these visions of trees and quaint little houses. Cute little harbors. Providence, RI. Or at least Mystic Point, RI. The only part of it I’ve seen. The red brick, tree lined campus of an Ivy League university. That isn’t Harvard. Or Princeton. Or Columbia. Where it gets cold in the winter. Snow falling that I’ll actually be able to see in real life. Snow fall that’s tangible after a life lived in sunny ol’ Florida. But other days, the reality of the admissions offices, GPAs, SAT scores, the cold negative degree weather catches up to me. I mean- I can get an education up there and always come back down here. Where the sun never ceases to shine- to the point where you wish it really would stop. Where family is, where my heart will always be. Where I failingly attempted to carve my name on a tree with a friend who I never really am sure is one anymore. Sometimes, I just need to feel a keyboard beneath my fingertips. And my eyes just need to see letters, each individual letter pop up behind the cursor in tune with my fingertip meeting the key in an elegant key stroke. Or, a wannabe elegant key stroke.
(I wrote this a little while ago. Thought I’d share. Its only half the post though. The rest is kind of irrelevant.)
The French verb travailler, meaning to work, often confuses people into thinking it is a word for ‘travelling’. Keeping a job is no walk in the park- it’s no vacation. Many teenagers think they are invincible, capable of taking on any task and doing it perfectly. I hate to break it to them, but they aren’t. Life is fragile and every decision has an even bigger effect in the long run. Picture one of the popular Choose Your Own Adventure books—if you chose to flip to the wrong page, the story ends. High school is the time to learn who you really are and find out what you want to do with the rest of your life, not the time to weigh people’s frozen yogurt cups and count change.
From the persuasive essay I wrote in AP Lang today about whether or not teens should have a job during high school. I feel like my writing is just extra affected by what’s happened in the past 24 hours. I feel like I’m being overdramatic. But pain never stops being pain.