Somber Thoughts on the Real Life Front

So it’s the morning, well somewhat still morning.  I just got out of class, and I thought ‘hey, I’ve never actually sat down and wrote in the morning’.  I just never feel very creative.  Well it’s raining; I have my coffee (skinny carmello, extra shot, light whip), and I’m waiting for my friends to get out of class.  So here I am…

Today is more of a personal post, more of just my mind wandering where it wants.  I’m planning on changing my major really soon.  But everytime I’m close to making the sure decision, I halt.  I know it’s what I want, but something always makes me pause and question if that’s actually what I want; if I’m absolutely sure.  And I don’t know.  People say it’s okay to not know at such a young age, but I need to know for my own sanity.  And my mother, oh my mother.  She only cares about those straight A’s, which is extremely difficult in college, but hey as long as you kill yourself trying.  I mean every time we talk, that is all it ever is, ‘what did you make on that test again?’ and ‘what was that quiz grade’.  Can we not have a normal conersation that’s not about school?  How about my friends, or what I did this weekend, or what organization I want to join.  Anythng else would do.  I’ve already decided I’m moving to New York after college.  My friend wants to be a fasion designer, and I a writer, so we will be the two starving artist living in a 2×4 trying to make it in the big city.  I need to not be smothered by parents or expectations or the constant reminder that it is very possible that I will fail.  I need to make it on my own and prove myself.  I need to make a differnce in the world or make an impact on someone, or my life will be pointless.  

There’s a quote, I can’t remember who said it, but it rings true for me; “They say you die twice; once when you take your last breath, and then again, for good, when someone says your name for the last time.”Image


BEYONCE by Superfruit

This is probably the best Beyonce cover I have ever seen. It is of her newest cd, which is amazing I might add. Many people have most recently become Queen B fans becasue of this cd, mainly Drunk in Love. A lot of people don’t know any of the other songs and those who do, know that the rest of her album is extremely sexual. My friend and I were talking the other day about how much we love Queen B and about how this album was so much more sexual than the others. I think that she is trying to make a statement with this album by being extremely sexual. Men can sing about sex and not be judged or questioned, but hold up, a woman sings about it, call the vatican. Beyonce takes a very feminist stance with this album, that is very empowering to women. I mean look at ‘Pretty Hurts’ and ‘Flawless’. These songs tell women that they can be more than a pretty face. Women can be powerful and have careers and be successful. She is the perfect example that women should be seen as an equal to men. Being a feminist is not saying that women don’t need men, it says that women should be able to be strong and successful but still have a family and a home. To me being a feminist says ‘I want the whole package’. I mean Beyonce has it all with her career, Jay-Z, and Blue. She honestly is what inspired me to identify as a feminist and it is mainly because of her new album.

When in Rome…


In honor of my Mythology test tomorrow morning…

I often find myself daydreaming of ancient times like those of the Romans and the Greeks.  When there was such a thing as witches and monsters and tragic heroes.  When women were cunning and feared for being so, and the gods walked among us humans and mingled and had torrid affairs.  I thrive on the stories and the imagination that it takes transport to that era.  I thrive on the beauty of the art they created.  Oh the art is my passion.  The sculptures and statues of heroes and gods, frozen in mid thought or action as if Medusa herself looked them in the eyes.  And the stories…I dream that the stories could be real, and that something so majestic and magical could actually exist.  But in reality it is all just myth; there is no way to know if the stories were true or how much they were exaggerated or if they ever even happened at all.  And that’s what kills me the most, never knowing, never knowing if the history of everything is truth or just the lies of the victors.

Blog Fantasies

I don’t even know why I’m doing this.  I mean, what is the possibility of people actually reading this?  Is it for myself to keep track of my thoughts or who I am at this time in my life? Nah…I have a tumblr for that.  Why would people even care what a girl(who isn’t even 20) has to say.  Maybe it’s because someday I hope they will.  I’m waiting for that day when what I say makes a difference in the world.  It’s a crazy thing to wait for.  You go to college to get a fancy degree from a big name univerisity then you go straight to get a job cause hell, your parents aren’t going to support you anymore.  So you wait for that big break.  You wait for someone to care what you have to say.  Especially in the world I want to go into.  The world of books and words and ‘fresh off the printers’.  The world where you work your ass off to get something to the public.  So you do your part and then you wait.  You wait for the right person, you wait for the right publisher, you wait for the right company that will say YES.  YES we want you.  YES, what you say is going to matter.  What you say is going to see the sun.  In a world where everyone has something to say, how do you choose who gets a shot?  I can only imagine it as a jailhouse, being the first one bailed out.  You walk down the hall of cages with people grasping at you, trying to convince you to take them with you.  Begging, pleading, bargaining, anything.  But you keep walking, ignoring them like the ones before did to you, because you’ve made it.  Someone somewhere said you were worth taking a chance on.  I don’t know if that’s fate, or hardwork, or if it’s just sheer luck, but I know one day I will be the one people want listen to.  So for now, I blog.  And hey, if anyone is actually reading this, maybe 10 years from now when I’m on New York’s best seller list, you can say I read her blog before anyone thought she was worth the risk.

“I saw my life …

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar