Skirts And Converse

 I want to…

1. Lose my inhibitions. 
2. Figure out how to make myself less awkward in situations that don’t even make me feel all that awkward. 
3. Find the connect between my emotions and my thoughts.
4. Encounter raw emotion.
5. (The token cliche) Find “true love.” Or know what it means.
6. Lose my cynicism; regain my positivity. 
7. Open my mind to others’ ideas and find my own.
8. Feel absolutely certain in my beliefs.
9. Regain self-control.
10. Let myself get attached to people. 
11. Know myself.
12. Break down.
13. Hold onto my quirks. 
14. Live in the moment and stop dreading the end. 
15. Find emotional release.

For some reason, I never talk about religion. I don’t know what it is, but it just doesn’t come up. That being said, people either automatically assume that I’m the perfect little Christian girl or an Atheist. Where people get these ideas, I have no idea. 

I am religious, but to what degree is hard for me to distinguish. The way I see it, there has to be Something out there. I think about how intricately designed every organism is, and the simultaneous vastness and limits of human thought. There has to be a designer out there somewhere, even if it isn’t the exact God described in the Bible or the Qur’an or any other religious text. Someone has to be responsible for the immense amount of coincidence in my life—the amount of pieces that fit so neatly together blow my mind. Everything lines up perfectly, and that’s not something I can easily overlook. 

I’m a firm believer in destiny, though not to the extent that anyone may presume. God has given us free-will, though he already knows exactly what we’re going to do with it. Every person, every evil, every enlightenment, and every miracle seems purposeful.  

The argument that religion is simply created to instill ethics in humanity baffles me as well. All of my opinions and morality are embedded in my roots so deeply that I can’t begin to piece it away from my origins. I am inevitably myself and I always have been.

Maybe I’m alone on this one, but I can’t imagine feeling any other way.

• My favorite class is on Thursday.
• Said class starts at 10:00, not 8:30.
• Said class will be finished by Fall Break, enabling me to sleep in until 3:00 if I really wanted to. 
• Tomorrow I finish with dance at 5:00. 5:00! That is a huge deal. 

…. Yeah. There aren’t quite as many reasons as I thought, but I could actually be social before 12:00 at night tomorrow if I wanted to. That’s insane.

What am I going to do with all of this free time?!

Siriusly.

I was talking with my roommate last night about how I have this irrational anxiety problem when it comes to raffles. For some reason, I subconsciously perceive events involving winning things as extremely trivial, and then just freak out at said events. I don’t know what it is, but raffles make me weirdly uncomfortable. I don’t have issues with getting excited about the things that I really take pride in or think are ridiculous, but I pretty much want to curl up into a ball in the unfortunate circumstance that I actually win something (That sentence was almost uncomfortable to type)  when someone buys a raffle ticket for me or something.

In conclusion, raffles are not all fun and games, children. They are actually extremely terrifying. 

Why am I so cool?

I’ve recently realized just how applicable the word “slipping” is right now.

The natural inevitability of change is rampant, and the things we said we’d never do are following close behind. It’s too bad, in a way, that I always knew that people would slip away at least a little—it’s impossible to be close to people you never see. I want to make it clear that this ramble is all exactly what I am saying as well. There is no cryptic, melodramatic undertone here; I’m simply sharing a realization. It’s just too bad that people grow up saying they’ll never become something only to be slammed back into perspective by a look in the mirror. And even the biggest cliches in the world start to make sense:

You can never be the same with people once you leave. 

I need to find myself, who am I?

You always lose your friends when you move.

Cynicism is regressive protection—but we do it anyway.

Life happens.

Slipping leads to falling.

This note has so many situations all weaved into it, and for once I only feel like sharing the very obvious ones. If you want to make something of the rest, good luck! xD

Annnnnnd, to clarify here… No, this isn’t intended to be all melodramatic, and I don’t want this to be misinterpreted as bitterness!! 

</End Random mindpuke>