Lets Recover This Train Wreck

Hi. ( Wow! What an ORIGINAL way to start a blog. I am so inspiring, and creative. Go me!)

I recently re-found this blog, and to be blunt It´s shit. I myself am not a quitter (or a spitter) therefore i´m here to re-route this blog to not sound like some 15 year old puppy loved wanna be philosopher writing a half ass blog.

All you really know about me is i´m a ginger, and honestly my hair is not even that red. It´s some weird mix of brown, and red. I think you should know more especially if you´re going to have to listen to my 3 a.m. rambles, and amateur poetry down the road. So I will be writing a series of post giving you the story of my life. Which consist of a lot of really depressing shit, but I find a lot of humor in my dark 17 years living on this planet so hopefully you will too.

Art Borrowed from Katy

What Consequences?

As I scrolled to the vast wonders of Pinerest I passed a quote

You are free to chose, but you are not free from the consequences of your choice

It caught my eye, and got me thinking.
Are we really free to chose?
Before you say “You’re just too ignorant to understand the quote” or anything along those lines please note; I do understand.

You are free to chose: We have the option to pick the action we wish to proceed with.
But you are not free from the consequences that come from those choices: You can still be punished for those choices.

Now that I’ve proved I’m not ignorant, on with the blog.

I got to thinking about this. How can we be free to chose our own choices when a majority of the time someone else is making our decisions for us? Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve noticed most of the time I don’t have the freedom of choosing my own choices. Maybe it’s a “pre-legal-adult” thing.

For example I was told that I have a school field trip Friday to a college, and also was told I had to go by my school councillor.

Why don’t you just stay home?

Well yes I could, but my parent wouldn’t allow me to.

Refuse to listen to your parents?

I literally can’t, my dad would overpower me, and I’d be back to going to the field trip at school.

There it goes.
Back to square one.

So I ask you all the question:
Where’s the free for the free?

(This is just a small example among many others)

Love at first sight (literally)

Recently my partner (What most would refer to as a boyfriend, but the term churns my stomach) started a blog. He began it with a story of how me, and him came to be. So to follow that here’s that same story from my perspective:

The first time I saw him my eyes were drawn to him, but the way he was made me feel like he was hard to approach (later I found that he was just a big teddy bear.) He was very stand offish, with perfect hair, who wore dark clothing. There was a certain charm to him that’s hard to explain; basically the Rebel in every movie you’ve every seen minus the rebel part. I would find myself staring at him constantly to notice he would never glance back. It got to the point of him talking to me( along with another person) but never looking at my face. It started to become a challenge trying to make eye contact, and the first time I did make eye contact I reacted in a way I wasn’t expecting. He made some non-chalont comment about me, and my ex being together, and I looked at him and asked ” you do realize we broke up right?” That’s when he looked with his big brown eyes directly into mine, and in that very moment my whole body just felt like it needed to be with him for the rest of its existence. That’s how I found my soulmate.

His post: http://galaxykoala.wordpress.com/2014/11/06/taking-it-from-the-top/

The most selfish thought I’ve ever had.

I walk by so many faces that I’ve seen so many times before, but never cared to ask their names.

As I was walking down the hallways at my small town school today I began looking at peoples faces, and was amazed at how many people I knew nothing about. 
Not their name, grade, age; nothing.To realize that I didn’t know so many things about so many people in this small school shocked me. I didn’t know how to feel.
People can be suffering from so many things hoping someone will ask them if they’re okay everyday, and we could all just be walking past them. I’ve been in that place, but thankfully I got out of it..

Recently at my school a boy committed suicide.
I didn’t know his name.
I didn’t know his age.
I didn’t know his birthday.
I didn’t know even know what he looked like.
He was a foreign thought to me.

All I could say was “I’m sorry for his family and friends. We should all be considerate of them. I wish I would’ve got to know him.”

Every time that last sentence left my lips I knew it was a lie.

I don’t wish to know him. To wish to know someone who has deceased themselves is equivalent to wishing the misery of not being able to help that person away from their misery before the end point.

Whenever I hear his name. I sit in silence awkwardly acknowledging that I like how things turned out for me; The most selfish thought I’ve ever had.

Welcome (or possibly Farewell) to my new (Possibly old) Blog.

The internet is filled with millions of souls squirming around together in a beautiful twist of confusion. Blogs, Social Media, Music, cluttered together on the world wide web, and then there’s you. You have found yourself reading this very post, and you probably aren’t sure why. Well at the moment im not sure either. It’s possible this blog will continue on for years to come, or maybe unwillingly my brain will be overcome by my hyperactive tendencies and the thought of every proceeding with this blog will be crushed.

Congratulations on finding yourself here.  (Maybe.)

Maturity In A Coffee Cup

Since the age of eight my father would pour me a cup of coffee every morning.

The coffee may have consisted of mostly milk, but it still gave me a exhilarating feeling of being Older. Still even today drinking coffee almost tricks myself Into feeling like a Mature Adult.

I don’t know what gives coffee that “Oh look at me I’m an adult sipping on my coffee” feel, but it’s a feeling I thrive for everyday of my life. I can’t find the feeling of maturity anywhere else like I can find it in a coffee cup.