A Little More Personal

Do you hate anger? When feelings in you just start boiling up and you don't know what to do with them? When all you can do is scream at everyone and cry these tiny tears that just come by the multitude?

That happened to me yesterday. When I realized that I am the anti-ideal: everything your mother probably does not want you to be. Okay, people who know me personally, sure you can say that I am funny, smart, pretty, etc. whatever. It all comes at a price. The price is pretty high, too. I can't be pretty without working my ass to get that way. Honestly,
I have been trying to avoid eating disorders all year. No, I have not puked this year. Sure, there was a period when I only ate about 600 Calories a day (as a reference, 600 Calories is what most people eat at dinner). I cannot really stand my body. It is just irregular. I'm not meso-, ecto-, or endomorphic. I do not fit a mold. I am the unique anti-ideal.

And there are personality quirks that just drive me up the wall sometimes. I am not going to get into those, but I feel worthless a lot. And rereading that entry about perfection, I like to think that there is no such thing as perfect. But there is conventional beauty.

I will never be conventionally beautiful.

I do not say that in a "psh who needs that" kind of way. I say it in a "it will never happen." I just have to keep telling myself another phrase: "get used to it." I am never going to be the It girl. Ever. It is simply not going to happen. I got off on the wrong foot in manners and looks. And I am going to have to square with that. As much as I want to be an ideal, there people to fit the mold better than I do. Better than I ever would want to. The more I want, the more miserable I am.

So, I am resolving to not want anything. SYKE! Not going to happen.

Lost in Territory I Know

Walking home from school,
no umbrella in hand,
my hair getting soaked,
and I'm hating how well the weather relates to how I feel.

The devious path of life
takes you so far away,
and the crap in mine
keeps you so far away and I'm trying to break it down.
I'm
trying
to
get
to
you.

I hold my breath.
And for a few moments, I can feel my heart racing,
my eyes getting so warm, feeling that wall
in my mind
in my chest
in places I never knew one could feel pain.
At least not emotional pain.

All this time,
I've been dreaming.
Because reality
to be honest (as you tend to say)
sucks. No lies there.

I just want something unconditional.
I want something for nothing.
Nothing too expensive, at least.

But the price is so high.
And there's nothing neither you nor I can do to lower it.
As much as we want to.
And then starts the barage of
"If
only's"
and
"why's"
and
thunderbolts.

What's Conventional?

So, my boos (best friends and boyfriend, for future reference) tell me that I am gorgeous and beautiful. So does my my mother and father. But other people are just like "eh" or "emooo." Because smiling is very characteristic of your stereotypical emo kid. Anyway, I find that there are two kinds of beauty: conventional and unconventional.

Conventional beauties are the girls and guys whom people find universally attractive. Pretty much, you can ask any guy or girl what he or she thinks, and that person will tell you that they are hot. The conventionals get all the guys or girls with ease. But some just have a really hard time keeping them, since the other people hitting on them are distracting. Or so I've found. Some conventional beauties have no inner substance. They have this gorgeous facade, but it is rotten underneath. They are too aware of how pretty they are and demean people who are not. I have experienced this first hand and it is not fun at all.

Unconventional beauties are the kids that barely get any recognition until they find someone who just thinks they are gorgeous. Like me. Not many think people think I'm "hot." Usually it is "eh" or just jumps to something completely disrespectful. I find it rather annoying. But I love the people who think I am pretty and whatnot because they just wish the best for me. They want to stop me from approaching another nigh-eating disorder so that I do not try becoming that which I am not.

Beauty comes in all shapes and forms, none of which is necessarily perfect. And I hope someone finds something lovely and wonderous in anyone who reads the blog because I am pretty sure you totally deserve it.

Sorry I'm Not Perfect...

Perfection is something we all want. In the picture to the left, there are some pretty perfect people: the man on the left is an intellectual who has a great personality, the guys are both fantastic athletes with stellar grades, the girls are people every guy wants for their beauty, wit, and charm. I wish I could be the girl every guy wants. I wish to be an ideal. However, during an interesting conversation on this topic, my best friend, Kayleigh, said, "your boobs are too big for you to be an ideal." Now, do not assume I took that as an insult. I thought it was interesting. Perhaps I am the conventional or even her ideal. Therefore, perfection is subjective.

Society's idea of perfection and ideal changes with each generation and with every decade. In prehistoric times, the ideal was to be plump, since fat represented wealth because one could afford food and survive efficiently. During the Classical era, the ideal was to have large, defined musculature. In Renaissance times, the ideal was pale skin, diluted eyes, and brown hair (at least in Italy). Literacy was also part of this idea. In the 1980's, people wanted to have big hair and exaggerated makeup.

Today, the perfect girl is tall and skinny. At least that is what you find in magazines. Referring back to the conversation with Kayleigh, guys supposedly like girls with some meat on their bones because "there is something to grab." Literacy seems to be optional, since "dumb" girls tend to be more entertaining. However, the smart ones win out in the end.

No one can talk about beauty with stating their own opinions and having someone disagree with them. My boyfriend, Scott, thinks I am perfect. I do not. My idea of perfection is straight, volumptuous hair, a somewhat built body (none of that "skinny but flabby" nonsense) and really unique style. You might have a different idea. Either way, there is no way one can talk about perfection. And in this case, majority does not rule.

Stress = UTTERLY USELESS

Stress is a factor in everyone's life. I am not kidding by that. If there is no stress in someone's life, they must be pretty freaking lazy. It is a major part of the teenage years. Honestly, I can barely recount any days in which I have not been feeling some sort of anxiety. Some kids can handle them. Others cannot. In the end, I think we can ALL safely say that stress is useless.

Let's look at one example of someone who could not handle stress and the teenage years: Holden Caulfield. He was miserable. He did not want to grow up. Not that he was exclusively immature--he was to some extent--he was not prepared for the "phoniness" of adulthood, and he especially was not ready for sex. Poor guy landed in the mental hospital after wandering New York after getting kicked out of Pencey. Ever felt failure? It sucks, does it not? I doubt anyone undergoes that without major anxiety.

However, there are a few people I know in person who deal miraculously with stress. I give them many kudos. I usually end up collapsing under pressure and stress. It is usually crap that I am not directly involved in, but it involves people close to me. I am very sensitive--pssh, of course I am sensitive, I am writing a BLOG of ALL things! It can kill severely.
There are times at which I wish I could fit into Holden's ideal of being eternally innocent, away from stress and lies and the strangenesses of adulthood. Naturally, you cannot avoid that. Environmentally, you cannot either. Tough luck. But hopefully, no one will end up in a hospital like Holden did.

(Love + Tests + Concerts) - Time = My Life

Life is a journey. A very long journey, a tedious one, an exciting one, and a rough one. No, just because you are rich and well-to-do does not mean you do not have problems. In contrast, just because you are poor does not mean you have a multitude of issues. I am in this middle crowd of people who cannot go shopping every other day, but have something to eat every meal of the day. However, I do and do not have problems. Right now, I have to deal with love, concerts, and tests and no time to balance the three.

I will start with love. It is the easiest thing to ramble about. Therefore, I shall try to keep this concise. I have found love. I have many people who I love: my best friends. They keep me sane, yet I have no time for them at all anymore.

Which leads to my second point: tests. Stupid life-draining pieces of crap. Okay, good intentions, bad execution. People need balance in their lives among school, leisure and love. With school...it does not seem to be. The drama you deal with there drains time away from tests, tests drain time away from leisure like extracurriculars, and those take time away from friends and now you can press the repeat button. I admire kids who can balance all those things. It is really difficult. Earlier this week, I felt terrible that I didn't talk to my best friend because I was too busy studying and hanging out with my friends at school and practicing for the Spring concert at my school. I truly felt terrible.

There is one thing I can name that balances all the things mentioned above. I like music. Scratch that, I love music. If music was outlawed or there was an embargo on European music, I would die. And music is played at concerts. People go to concerts. Friends are people. Therefore, friends go to concerts too (Q.E.D.). Concerts bring people together. The Spring concert reunited my best friends, helped me get more in touch with close friends, and meet new ones. Today, I am going to Bamboozle with my best friends, dad, and boyfriend. It will be amazing since I will be with them and they rock my life.

Yet somehow...I need to find balance for all the stuff I have due next week...