Moving

Hey, guys. I'm actually not on blogspot anymore! If you want to keep reading my stuff, this time with pictures and recipes, head on over to my new place: In Other Words Enjoy! It's been good working with ya, Blogger.

What I learned from the kids at the beach

1. Adventuring! 

2. Things fall down. "Oblivion is inevitable," as John Green says. It's like those kids at the beach building a lake out of sand, right up by the water. The waves come everytime and they just build it up again and again. But if one kid decided to make his lake out of a plastic bucket it wouldn't be nearly as fun. So we work on different pieces of life and we just keep building them up and up and we can make wet sand walls instead off flimsy dry walls, we can make concrete walls, wooden walls. But sometime, it's all gonna collapse and be over. 

3. We're not ever really "big kids." Sure, we get bigger, but there's like some superior knowledge or something that you're supposed to just get all of a sudden. It doesn't come. Another metaphor: tubing with my sister is hilarious. She just goes again and again and she does crazy things. But if you look at her feet, they don't really touch the bottom of the tube. So the rest of us are stretching our legs to press against the tube, to keep us in, and she's over there falling out and laughing. When she gets bigger, she'll be able to reach the end of the tube. The secret? She won't stop falling out. We're all just little kids, bouncing around, falling off. And we just have to laugh it off. We have to keep saying, "Again!"

People: Magazine Edition

Get it? Cause there was that post I did called people, and there's also People the magazine, which is what I'm talking about today. 

I guess that flashing lights make your life more worthwhile, that the higher your heels the more you matter. As long as you've got a hot bod, everything you do is fine. What the heck, Hollywood? It's weird, don't you think? That people everywhere are dying nobly, saving lives, and going on adventures, but some blondie "daring to show some cleav" is more discussed. Guys, she does that all the time, and it sucks. You know what doesn't happen all the time? A different blonde, getting into Harvard instead of a club. That soldier meeting his kid for the first time. That boy who finally was brave enough to tell his friends "No." Isn't it weird that there are magazines full of weight loss tips and mini girls in mini skirts and very few with, say, a disabled boy, or a list of people who were born that day? I'd say that's more important than this season's color palette. 

That's all for this issue of real People. 

Note to Self

This is less of a note, and more of a grocery list. Like, here's what you should get from life! Or like a list of cliché kindergarten class rules.
1. Be happy!
2. See above
3. Remember God
4. Dance more
5. Sing louder
6. Don't think too much about one thing
7. Think about everything
8. Learn whatever you want
9. Plan more adventures.
10. See number 1

Night Game

Sand runs Wind and waves chase, close behind The whole earth just a game of tag Thoughts run I chase, follow each one My head on my pillow, Eyes closed, mind open Hands move to twelve No more friendly tag Agonizing game, constant game Sheep run, prevent sleep Too many thoughts and sheep to count I chase them Strange game Hands move to two Staccato rain begins Joins the hands' song A whole symphony of night sounds All drained of their power, stopping their game Now that I sleep Hands are still

Once Upon a Time

Once Upon a Time I was walking through the school doors. I do it quite often. And it seems like every time I do there is a girl. She stands there. It's just a door, just 5 seconds of my day, but I remember her. Why? Because she held it. She held the door for people and smiled at them and called them beautiful as they swore at each other and pushed their friends and completely ignored her. And her smile was still brighter than anything I'd ever, ever seen. So I got to know her, through a long process of Facebook stalking. As I did, I learned something: She was in studio art. She was in studio art, and honors classes, and chamber orchestra, and yearbook. She was a figure skater (and good at it, too.) She was busy, busy, busy. Yet she was there everyday, holding a door instead of taking care of her piles of homework. Smiling and changing lives and days. And you know what the best part of the whole thing is? She was noticing me too. I was one person who walked through the door. All I did was smile at her, while I'm sure that plenty of others talked and thanked her. But she "friended" me first. She spoke to me first. I guess the point of all of this is that when you walk through a door, you never know who noticed you. You never know if there are people in this world who are good enough to notice an imperfect person and fall in love. And I guess now I do.

Everything through my bedroom window

So, we've all looked out the window and seen the stars. And the thing is, it seems so big out there. When we look out there, we see this little piece of...everything. And in that little section that seems so big, there are countless stars. And most of those stars are as big as our sun. And maybe they have planets of their own, circling them over and over again. Maybe the planets have moons, maybe they have animals, trees, all of that. And all of that is just from your little window. There are millions of windows and worlds and galaxies and everything. And guess what? There's also you. You, a person who is so small that even when 7 billion you-sized people stand together, a camera that is relatively close to the earth still can't notice a difference, with or without all of you. Yet god, who made you, is still more proud of you than any of his galaxies. He loves you more than you can ever, ever imagine. He thinks you are more beautiful than any of his oceans, anything that he's made. He's right, of course. Cause you have the potential to create a universe as big as this everything in front of your window. And whatever you see in the mirror, whoever you think you are doesn't matter. Cause you can do it. Hey, you're a child of the most powerful person in all of ever. Shouldn't that count for something?