I’ve Decided

That I cannot wait to get away from high school and everything attached to it. I’m tired of so much immaturity and pettiness. How about we all grow up? Actually, I take that back. I’ve already grown up. I see my faults, and I am fully aware of them.

For those of you who don’t know, I’ve decided to graduate this December. When I decided this  few months ago, my friends (for the most part) as well as a certain teacher more recently, were angry with me and nagged me about all of the things I would be missing.

In actuality, I’ll be missing nothing.

I am so ready for a life. A real life. One that doesn’t involve waking up and going to school and having to deal with so many idiots.

Don’t even get me started on the idiots.

You know, when I first started this blog, I said that I wasn’t going to censor my life or sugar coat it. For the most part, I don’t, but I do find myself editing it. I don’t mention the more fragile parts that deal with the people close to me. I know they read this blog.

But when I get to college, let me tell you, I’m spilling it all. For whatever reason, that last sentence made me feel like Gossip Girl.

 

Anyway, I’m done with basing my self worth on what my friends think of me or don’t think of me. My life is about me. It isn’t about any of the extra characters that come and go. Sure, they may add to my character in some way, or make me see things from a new angle, but in the long run, my life is not about any of them.

For my friends reading this, don’t think that I’m writing this out of anger. I’m writing this from a big picture perspective. I’m a realist, as much as I love to imagine new things.

I see things in terms of years, not in terms of days or weeks. I could care less about my Senior prom. I’ve already lived out the fun of prom. I don’t care about a Senior trip. I plan on going to Europe. Forgive me for not wanting to go to Disney World. Europe is just better.

 

In conclusion, it’s my life and I’ll do whatever the hell I want to do with it.

 

Peace, love, and living for me,

Sara

The Girl in the Mirror

Originally, this was going to be posted on Elizabeth's blog, but I decided to keep it :) I promise that I'll still give you a post, Cap'n!


When I look in the mirror, I see a pair of tired gray eyes staring back at me.
I see unremarkable features that are splattered here and there with freckles.
The girl in the mirror has bitten lips from times of either deep thinking or anxiety.
Her hair isn’t soft, it is coarse and brown.

The girl in the mirror doesn’t smile back at me; she only stares, as if asking the silent question, “who are you?”
I don’t say anything because I’m not sure how to answer that question.
The simple answer is Sara.
“I am Sara,” I might say to her. But that answer would not suffice.
There are so many other girls who share my name. So many girls named Sara or Sarah who each have different hopes for their futures.
“I am a dreamer,” I might say to her. But that answer is still too vague.
There are plenty more dreamers in this world. It is not a quality that defines an entire person’s spirit.
If I were to answer her with such a simple observation, she would only continue to stare blankly at me.
But I don’t know how to answer her. I don’t know what words to use, because I don’t know what makes me who I am.
Is it a collection of memories, strung together in a complex pattern?
Is it all of the countless dreams of mine, compounded into one?
Is it the trillions of individual thoughts and conversations that I have had over sixteen years that say, “This is me. This is only Sara.”?
I doubt that I will ever know.

And then, I know what my answer would be.

To the girl in the mirror, with the gray eyes and the bitten lips I would say,
“I am both younger and older than I should be. I never understand the injustices of this world and of this society, but I am almost calloused to them. I am as strong as I am weak.
I am as brave as I am a coward. My voice is both loud and silent.”
“My life is a collection of moments. It is cold grass on my bare feet, and breeze from the river on my face. It is the feeling of being alone in a very dark place. It is lanterns filled with candle light and cool blue water. It is the melancholy that accompanies the reappearance of winter.”
“I am a collage of favorite things. I am a blank paper notebook that waits to be filled with words. I am old, yellow paged books and rusty keys. I am lockets and I am pocket watches. I am dog eared pages and crumpled paper fortunes.”
When I look at the girl, the side of her mouth quirks up to reveal laugh lines from many days and night spent with good company.
She looks as if she’s not convinced, that she wants me to go on, but I do not.

I simply smile back at her, and leave the room.

I do not need to explain who I am to her.

She already knows.

In Between Darkness and Light

Today, as I rummaged through a box of old notebooks and journals, I came across the journal that I wrote in while I was going through my hardest depression. As soon as I saw it my stomach twisted in  knots and memories of the way I felt during that dark point in my life came flooding back.

I knew that the words I had written when I was in that terrible place were gone, burnt to ashes and scattered, but just the sight of it saddened me. 

On the cover, there are vintage looking photographs of faeries, but on the inside there are the torn reminders of what was once held there. 

I remember the day my mother gave it to me. It was the suggestion of my psychologist. 

She told me to write down every bad thought that crossed my mind, and I did as she said even though some were too horrible to think about, let alone document for other's eyes. 

Writing in that journal and letting the psychologist read it was like letting her into my mind, which at that time, was a very dark and dreadful place. 

But today I opened it again. 

Just as I suspected, there were the ink stained shreds of paper along the binding where countless pages had been ripped out. But on one page, there was a poem. 

Something I had written as I was coming out of my depression, but was not yet fully healed. 

Can't you see she's crying? 

She's at war with herself.

Can't you see she's lying,

When she says she feels just fine?

All this time she has been trapped, 

Tormented by her own mind. 

How can you escape yourself? 

Is there any honest way? 

When she cries herself to sleep at night,

She promises herself she'll stay.

No one can ever understand

What it's like to hold her hand

With a dagger at her side. 

When I was in that place, that place in between darkness and light, I learned what it meant to love life. 

It took me more than two years, but I pulled myself out of it. I put myself back into life. 

Now I'm happy, even if I have to fight depression from time to time. 

I'm in more control of my own life now. I don't feel like I'm falling. 

Because when I feel myself slipping again, I know my friends and family are there to lift me up. 

They are there to make me remember who I am, and why I do the things that I do. 

They make me remember my purpose, and they make me feel wanted. 

I love them more than words can express. 

Peace, love, and Minecraft, 

Sara

Noise

I took this picture at the Bay House :) I love it there! 

In the morning, I play loud music to wake me up.
In the car on the way to school, I play loud music to get me ready to face all of the idiots.
In the halls, all I hear is the chattering of nonsense and pointless discussions.
In the car on the way home, I play loud music to celebrate living through another day filled with crazy people.
At night when I go to sleep, I turn on my fan so that it's droning sound sings me to sleep.

Our lives are filled with noise. Every waking hour seems to be purposefully interrupted by a cacophony of familiar rackets.
And I don't understand why.

Why do we, as humans, feel the need to bridge the gaps of silence with words or other sounds? Are we too scared to listen to only silence?
Maybe the reason we do this, or the reason some of us do this, is to keep our ears busy. Maybe we just don't want to think.

What if once, every single day, we gave up on noise and sat only in silence. Just to think. Just to process everything that happened in that day. I think our world would be much more peaceful. It would probably also be much more intelligent. I probably wouldn't have to sit in honors English and wonder why over half the class was too stupid to read the novel that was due that morning.

Our societies great downfall, in my opinion, will be the lack of in depth appreciation for the arts.
Throughout history, there have been great thinkers. People who had an idea, and ran with it for as long and far as they possibly could. There were people who stood for things they believed in. People who asked things like, "why not?". And now, those types of people seem to be an endangered species.

Our lives are so centered around noise and meaningless tasks such as playing on our IPhones, or Xbox's, that we've forgotten how to live.
Life isn't meant to be spent staring at bright screens, it's meant to be spent living.

So, I encourage all of you to take an hour out of your week, and sit in silence. I don't mean silence as in no sound period, I mean silence as in minimum human interaction. Just be still and only listen to your thoughts.
Be a thinker and a dreamer. By all means, don't be like half the kids in my honors class that don't understand anything remotely intelligent.

Peace, love, and Nerdisms,

                                Sara

Evolution

Lately my Biology 1 class has been learning about the theory of evolution. I've learned even more about the ignorance around here.
You know, I don't claim to be a scientist, but I am a Christian (even if my beliefs are somewhat different), and you know what? I believe in evolution. And let's get really crazy and go out on a limb here....I also don't think the big bang theory is too insane to fathom.
As I watched the documentary on Charles Darwin with the rest of my class, and watched the faces of my classmates who weren't even trying to learn anything from the movie, I realized that the thirst for knowledge and the lack of open-mindedness in our generation is astounding.
But then again, it's always been like this.
People are so quick to say things are wrong, to say things are the way they are with no exceptions, that they never stop to actually learn.
If you're a Christian, why is it so hard to believe that God put species on the Earth with the ability to evolve? Or that God caused the big bang?
I'm not saying that the big bang is what caused everything to burst into existence, but I'm saying that it isn't a ridiculous possibility.
I mean, even humans are still evolving! We have to change and adapt to live in different places and cope with different environments and climate changes. 
We still aren't even using our brains to the fullest potential, as evidenced by the lack of intelligence in my school. I'm not saying that it's wrong to NOT believe in evolution, we can all have our own ideas on things, but why not want to wonder? Why not stop and think about whatever it is that you're so quickly writing off?
Last night, my brother told me he didn't want to grow up. Do you know what I told him? And I know this is cheesy. You were warned.
As long as you are always able to question things, imagine, and create, you haven't grown up. As long as you can still find the good in the world.
And he said, "What good?"
That really touched my heart. Sometimes my brother reminds me of myself at that age. It scares the crap out of me.
So I climbed back down from his bunk-bed, flipped off his light and said, "There's always good in the world, Nate. You just have to look hard enough."
Anyway, that small conversation with my brother made me wonder why so many people have lost that ability to question things. My whole life, my parents have taught me to figure things out for myself. Whether that thing be how to put together a model, or what my views on politics are.

Peace, love, and thinking before speaking,
                                                                Sara

Ponder

Sunset

Lately I've been thinking a lot about how short life is.
My mother's friend's wife just found out that the cancer she'd had years ago has come back. This time the doctors gave her no hope.
You know, we see so much in the media about cancer. We hear about it everyday. But it doesn't really doesn't impact any of us until we have to watch it tear right through some one's life.
It's like the monster we all had hiding under our beds as children. It was so real to us until our parents said it wasn't real at all.
Cancer isn't real to us until it happens to someone we care about.
My great aunt, cousin, and my great grandfather and grandmother all died of different types of cancer. You know, I don't have any real memories of my aunt that I can remember. Just this one when we were on a pontoon boat in Destin. But even that small little fragment is fuzzy. But I remember her funeral.
I barely remember cousin Billy because he lived far away. But I remember his memorial.
I never met my great grandparents on my mother's side, but I've heard stories. Mom says I would have loved them both so much. If there really is something after this life, and I make it to it, I hope I get to meet them.

If I were to find out that I have cancer, and they gave me no hope like my mom's friend, I don't know what I would do. But in a way, I guess I have an idea.
I know that for whatever it was worth, I would never let myself be weak. I would fight ever minute of everyday just to see the next sunrise. The next full moon. My brother's next smile.
I would learn how to truly live.
I would say I'm sorry to everyone I'd ever been angry at. Even if they were the ones at fault.
You know how people always say it's best to live like you're dying? Well, I've decided that anyone who actually achieved that, was really dying.
There must just be something about it; knowing that your days are numbered.
I'd say I'd want to experience that feeling, just to appreciate how truly precious life is, but I don't want to die anytime soon. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, right?
How could you even tell your best friend that you might not live too much longer?
I can't even imagine walking with Paige, and just saying, "I'm dying.". That would break my heart.
Seeing the looks on people's faces. That would be what hit me the hardest. Even if I had come to terms with it, knowing that they wouldn't be okay for a long time, that would get to me.
Just thinking about this sort of thing gets me so depressed. But hey, trying on someone else's shoes is a good thing.
Somewhere, I'm sure there's a girl my age that just found out she has no chance of seeing Christmas. And here I am, warm in my bed, blogging about being in a situation like that when I can't even imagine.
But we've all thought about what it would be like to know that without a doubt, we were going to die. Haven't we?
I think, that if I were dying, I would start giving out a whole lot of advice.
And I would have a few dying wishes too.
I'd tell my mother to finish the latest novel I started.
I'd tell my brother to always have the same laugh.
I'd tell my father where to scatter my ashes.
Aw man, this is making me cry. But what am I saying, I cry over everything. Guess I'm just empathetic like that.
I'd tell Paige to never stop being so kind and loyal.
I'd tell Elizabeth to never lose her goofy personality.
I'd tell Kimberlee go out and see the world for me.
I'd tell Dylan to never let the way people don't see things too clearly hurt him.
I guess I could keep going with this and make it really sappy, but since I'm not dying, I don't see the point.
I feel so sorry for anyone going through something so awful. I feel so sorry for the families affected.
This blog really just came out of nowhere. I Just started thinking about my mom's friend and how much he loves his wife. It really breaks my heart.

Peace, Love, and Deep Thoughts,
                                                     Sara

I've got lot's of friends. Yes, but then again, Nobody knows me at all. ~The Weepies

A Few Random Thoughts

•  Foreign friends are really cool, and fun to talk to :)
• I love how a lot of gas stations in America find it appropriate to display condoms over the sinks in Women's bathrooms. (Sarcasm)
• It's not comfortable to sleep between bleachers at school. 
• Our lunch food has absolutely no salt content and is terrible.
• I really love the idea for my current novel :)
• I feel like I should just sleep for a couple of years, then wake up and restart my life. 
• No one should ever feel like anyone is better than them. 
• Seriously, you aren't hot. 
• I have a notebook full of letters that I've written to a few select people, that I never plan on showing them.
• Why is it that some people are so hypocritical and don't even realize it?
• I should take up meditation. 
• It's not that I want people to like me, I just want people to accept me exactly the way I am. 
• I will never marry a republican. 
• I don't see myself having a boyfriend until college. 
• ^ Because, I want something a little more substantial that some stupid fling with a guy that doesn't really care. 
• I don't understand how people that talk so much about peace, can be so obsessed with hate.
• I get tired of the way people act in this town

Peace, love, and gas station condoms,

                                                              ~Sara 

Love the little things :)

I've never loved flashy, expensive things. When it comes to clothes, I'm as happy to get something from Aeropostal as Goodwill. I don't care about brand names for anything. My biggest expense has always been books.
Since I started thinking about this last night when we were looking at the neighbors fireworks. My brother has always bought the big fireworks, I've always only bought sparklers and poppits.
Some people could be cheap and just buy those, but I'm seriously happier with the small fireworks :)

This blog has been such an awesome experience for me I think :)
Everyday, I end up learning more about not just myself, but everything else that effects me.
It's like Wilfred said (A show on FX), "everything has to do with everything."
And sure, at first he sounded crazy. But then the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.
Everything really does have to do with everything else. In some small way, anything can be related to anything else. To most of you, I sound crazy. Maybe one of you will understand what I'm saying :)

~Sara