Why is it so hard for people to get along?
In high school it's apparently cool to pick on someone who's more vulnerable than you are. Why? Why isn't it cooler to make friends with them? Why is it cool to be a complete bastard to another person and why is is a nice person usually misunderstood as a brown noser or else a loser who's trying to get friends? Why does the nice guy always finish last?
Why, when people get into arguments, do they resort to personal attacks? It is not the people themselves at issue here, it's their ideas. Or are people and their ideas one and the same and that's why arguments tend to become battles to see who can insult the other faster?
Why am I getting depressed about something that has almost nothing to do with me? If I were in their position, would I be the same way, or would I be kinder? Can one person really change the world? I doubt it.
All right. What the heck do I do if one of my best friends is completely obsessed with a teacher who's the most arrogant man alive and is completely obvious about her crush?
Do I talk to her about it? Do I show her statistics? I'm going insane!
Now, on the subject of ghosts, I tend to be a skeptic, but there are some things that happened to me that I just can't explain.
Number 1: A few weeks after my grandmother died, I was sitting at the dining table finishing my homework and singing something that had gotten stuck in my ...read more
here's something I wrote in a fit of inspiration a few days ago. Now that I look back at it, though, it sounds like something straight out of another novel, but I'm not sure if it's just my insecurity or what. I posted it on the writingforums but, to my knowledge, it still hasn't gotten any replies ...read more
tired. exhausted. weary. sleepy.
in the end, they all mean the same
a certain kind of hopelessness
a feeling that what i'm doing
isn't quite good enough
a feeling that I just want to lie down
roll over and play dead
but it always ends the same
i get up, dust myself off
and start all over again,
like Frank Sinatra tells me to
and I feel a little better
knowing that I donít have the courage
to quit just yet,
that maybe, just maybe,
something better is waiting for me
right over there,
around the corner,
down the road,
the next house over
Well . . .
To be completely honest I'm not entirely sure what to do with this- it seems like one venting place too many, since I have livejournal.com, a REAL journal, and now this . . . but I've plenty of things to say (whether they're intelligent or not is beside the point), so what the heck.