So there's been this lull. At the time of my last post there were a hundred things to do and all of them were very important. Now, I've moved away from her, and all I have to do is clean, I finished the big paper, and now I just have 2 exams to do over the next 2 weeks.
When I took apart my bed on Tuesday, I suddenly got really sad. I had been in this bed for the last 3 years, and it become evident that this was the end of something, and maybe I didn't really leave my mark on people. I was really upset that there were people that I just won't see again - you know, those people who aren't really your friends, but you're friendly with - and I'm afraid that those people may be most of the people I know.
Everything's changing, and it's freaking me out huge. I don't really know where I'll be in September, but wherever it is, it'll be an unfamiliar place where I don't know anyone.
Like my bed frame, my life's coming apart. It'll come back together, but who knows what that'll look like.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Friday, April 14, 2006
Thursday, April 13, 2006
i hate running
I mean, I really hate it. People say it's relaxing, that you can turn your mind off and just go. Well, for me, somehow, I can't stop thinking about how little breath I have.
People say that it's all mental and, honestly, I think that's why I hate it. I mean, if I was more fit, it would be less of a psychotic game. My internal running dialogue is a lot like this:
"Okay, I've just started, no big deal, I'm not even tired... Oh no, is that a leg cramp? No! Too late. I've already started. Oh man, I should have stretched better.... one lap... Okay, Esther, you have to at least do 10. You did 10 before. No big deal, you should be able to do that again, maybe even more. Should I do 11? Maybe I should do 11... I'm so tired... No. Keep on going, you can DO this. Press on. ... two laps"
Tiring, eh? Yeah, tell me about it. This is like my life. I always feel like I'm pushing myself, and I always want to do more. Don't get me wrong - I am very lazy, but when it comes to things set before me, like school, working out, it's always this mental game where I see how hard I can push myself.
I have so much school in front of me and I really want to do well. I'm staying in most nights so I can study and work on my essays, and when I don't get enough done, I berate myself, and try to use that push harder.
My sister, Gloria, said I should try and simplify my life now that school is ending. Maybe she's right. Or maybe I just have to work harder.
So the question is: Should I push my limits? Or should I try and realize them? I really like the sound of the first one - it's like one of those things that should be on a poster that they have in a guidance counsellor's office - and the second one scares me - this sounds like the people who don't believe in me. Plus, it sounds a lot less straightforward.
I once said that I thought a life of fear was one of mediocrity. I think I was wrong. Some people are afraid of mediocrity. (I'm afraid of mediocrity.) 2006: Year Without Fear is turning out to be more complicated than I thought. When I think I've conquered a fear, it now seems that I'm just more afraid of something else.
People say that it's all mental and, honestly, I think that's why I hate it. I mean, if I was more fit, it would be less of a psychotic game. My internal running dialogue is a lot like this:
"Okay, I've just started, no big deal, I'm not even tired... Oh no, is that a leg cramp? No! Too late. I've already started. Oh man, I should have stretched better.... one lap... Okay, Esther, you have to at least do 10. You did 10 before. No big deal, you should be able to do that again, maybe even more. Should I do 11? Maybe I should do 11... I'm so tired... No. Keep on going, you can DO this. Press on. ... two laps"
Tiring, eh? Yeah, tell me about it. This is like my life. I always feel like I'm pushing myself, and I always want to do more. Don't get me wrong - I am very lazy, but when it comes to things set before me, like school, working out, it's always this mental game where I see how hard I can push myself.
I have so much school in front of me and I really want to do well. I'm staying in most nights so I can study and work on my essays, and when I don't get enough done, I berate myself, and try to use that push harder.
My sister, Gloria, said I should try and simplify my life now that school is ending. Maybe she's right. Or maybe I just have to work harder.
So the question is: Should I push my limits? Or should I try and realize them? I really like the sound of the first one - it's like one of those things that should be on a poster that they have in a guidance counsellor's office - and the second one scares me - this sounds like the people who don't believe in me. Plus, it sounds a lot less straightforward.
I once said that I thought a life of fear was one of mediocrity. I think I was wrong. Some people are afraid of mediocrity. (I'm afraid of mediocrity.) 2006: Year Without Fear is turning out to be more complicated than I thought. When I think I've conquered a fear, it now seems that I'm just more afraid of something else.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
considering ravens
Consider the ravens.
They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn.
Yet God feeds them.
They do not write theses or research papers.
Yet God feeds them.
They do not find assignees for their apartments, they do not fight with their landlords.
Yet God feeds them.
They do not pick schools, choose places to live, decide whether to commute. They do not write cover letters or resumes or attend job interviews. They do not make money. They do not pay off their credit card bills or students loans.
They do not spend hours and hours on a problem set to get crappy marks on them. They do not find recursive algorithms in coding languages they haven't used in years. They do not study for exams. They do not go to auditions.
They do not graduate with honours. They do not have degrees.
They do not console their friends. They do not call their friends in tears. They do not ignore their friends.
They do not have boyfriends.
They do not have self-esteem.
They do not read the Bible. They do not pray.
They do not blog.
Yet God feeds them.
They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn.
Yet God feeds them.
They do not write theses or research papers.
Yet God feeds them.
They do not find assignees for their apartments, they do not fight with their landlords.
Yet God feeds them.
They do not pick schools, choose places to live, decide whether to commute. They do not write cover letters or resumes or attend job interviews. They do not make money. They do not pay off their credit card bills or students loans.
They do not spend hours and hours on a problem set to get crappy marks on them. They do not find recursive algorithms in coding languages they haven't used in years. They do not study for exams. They do not go to auditions.
They do not graduate with honours. They do not have degrees.
They do not console their friends. They do not call their friends in tears. They do not ignore their friends.
They do not have boyfriends.
They do not have self-esteem.
They do not read the Bible. They do not pray.
They do not blog.
Yet God feeds them.
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