The other day my best friend told me that a friend of ours asked her if I was Mormon.
Am I Mormon??
Does it even matter?
Sadly, yes it does. And people get judged for it. People are defined by it. It kinda bothers me when members from a religion, we'll say LDS in this case, are taught about not judging others, accepting others, or treating others as equals yet its what we tend to do most. It's our social norm. We live in a bubble. Heaven forbid if you do anything against the bubble ways made by the bubble people everyone will have a cow, and name the cow by your name so you never forget about breaking the bubble people's ways.
Am I Mormon? Yes, I am. But don't expect me to follow the bubble ways because of it.
Few examples of bubble ways:
-Not talking to someone cause they have a lip piercing
-Hating Obama (and not knowing why other than mom and dad hate him)
-Assuming the guy with a tattoo is an awful murderous man with a dog named Rex and smokes and drinks at 9 am and is going to kill you if you smile or make eye contact with him
-Judging before knowing
Anyway, there's a couple. Are you a bubble person?
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Senior Year and YOLO I guess
It's finally here..senior year. It's truly BitterSweet.
Bitter:
Last year...
Being a kid
Without huge responsibilities
With unlimited food
With my good friends
Living with my family
In my room
Not having to worry about the bills
Being able to blame my siblings for my problems
Living with my siblings
Being the oldest kid in the house
I get to keep my car
Sweet:
In college I....
Am and adult
Call the shots
Get to be independent
Make my own choices
Meet new friends
Have a fresh start
Play the sport I love
Get to start my career
Party past 12
Figure out what I want for myself
This is it. Make the best of it. And go out with a bang. YOLO.
Bitter:
Last year...
Being a kid
Without huge responsibilities
With unlimited food
With my good friends
Living with my family
In my room
Not having to worry about the bills
Being able to blame my siblings for my problems
Living with my siblings
Being the oldest kid in the house
I get to keep my car
Sweet:
In college I....
Am and adult
Call the shots
Get to be independent
Make my own choices
Meet new friends
Have a fresh start
Play the sport I love
Get to start my career
Party past 12
Figure out what I want for myself
This is it. Make the best of it. And go out with a bang. YOLO.
Duct Tape and Bricks
Things that duct tape can't fix:
Bad habits
Illegal immigration
The grease that escapes my Betos burrito
Disappointment
Dead people
Joe Biden
Mah hurr
Friendships
Break ups
Wrinkles
103.9 FM
Lindsay Lohan
LP PDA
Alpine cops
My grades :(
Things I would do with bricks if I had the time:
Build a castle
Throw it at something
Drop it off a tall building (if no one was below, of course)
Make a small dog house
Give the brick a name, preferably "Ace."
Put it in someone's bag
Give it as a gift
Duh.
Bad habits
Illegal immigration
The grease that escapes my Betos burrito
Disappointment
Dead people
Joe Biden
Mah hurr
Friendships
Break ups
Wrinkles
103.9 FM
Lindsay Lohan
LP PDA
Alpine cops
My grades :(
Things I would do with bricks if I had the time:
Build a castle
Throw it at something
Drop it off a tall building (if no one was below, of course)
Make a small dog house
Give the brick a name, preferably "Ace."
Put it in someone's bag
Give it as a gift
Duh.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Routine People
Do you have people in your life that are ALWAYS there, ALWAYS a part of your daily routine?
Careful, cause I know you do. I call them "Routine People."
You see them everyday, you talk to them, you wait around for them, you get mad at them, you yell at them, you feel bad for them, you say sorry to them. A world without them is a world you've never even thought of before!
Caution: They are dangerous. Beware.
What happens when they don't come back? When they stop wanting to be your routine person? Routine People are powerful. They make or break you. They define you. And when they leave you...who are you? Who do you talk to? When routine people leave, so does a part of you. Your "routine" you, your "everyday" you is gone. What hurts even more is you'll look for your routine person, cause you, stupid you, will miss the missing piece to your routine people puzzle and you'll find them, playing a piece in another person's puzzling routine people life.
Careful, cause I know you do. I call them "Routine People."
You see them everyday, you talk to them, you wait around for them, you get mad at them, you yell at them, you feel bad for them, you say sorry to them. A world without them is a world you've never even thought of before!
Caution: They are dangerous. Beware.
What happens when they don't come back? When they stop wanting to be your routine person? Routine People are powerful. They make or break you. They define you. And when they leave you...who are you? Who do you talk to? When routine people leave, so does a part of you. Your "routine" you, your "everyday" you is gone. What hurts even more is you'll look for your routine person, cause you, stupid you, will miss the missing piece to your routine people puzzle and you'll find them, playing a piece in another person's puzzling routine people life.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Thinking Thoughts
I think about you and think whether or not you're worth thinking of.
I think about you like...gosh.
Like an Alpine family thinks about Obama
Like Obama thinks about Osama
Like Osama thinks about..well he doesn't think, cause he's dead.
But I think about you.
Like you know when you have pink eye and every time you open your eyes you're thinking, "ouch, pink eye." And when you blink you think, "oh yeah, pink eye." And when there's wind you think, "heck, pink eye hurts." And when you're out in public you think, "I HATE pink eye!!"
... Yeah I think about you.
Have you ever been in elementary and whether or not there was an open gate, you and you're friends STILL jumped that wooden fence? And during your fun of jumping fences you get a sliver. And you dig for the sliver despite the pain, and your fingers redden, and your eyes tear, and the sliver gets deeper, and your scratching gets harder, and your friends are now farther, so you leave the sliver but every touch remind you you have a sliver..
..it just reminds me of you.
I am thinking about you like a child thinks about tooth aches
I am thinking about you like an adult thinks about the bills
I'm thinking about you like a coward thinks about death
I'm thinking about you cause I have to. Cause trust me, I don't want to. But you're there. I'm thinking about you cause no matter what I do you're coming. Lingering. And with you comes pain. No, you're not worth thinking of. But gosh I can't help it. And words can't describe it. But if I tried, I'd say it tasted blue.
I think about you like...gosh.
Like an Alpine family thinks about Obama
Like Obama thinks about Osama
Like Osama thinks about..well he doesn't think, cause he's dead.
But I think about you.
Like you know when you have pink eye and every time you open your eyes you're thinking, "ouch, pink eye." And when you blink you think, "oh yeah, pink eye." And when there's wind you think, "heck, pink eye hurts." And when you're out in public you think, "I HATE pink eye!!"
... Yeah I think about you.
Have you ever been in elementary and whether or not there was an open gate, you and you're friends STILL jumped that wooden fence? And during your fun of jumping fences you get a sliver. And you dig for the sliver despite the pain, and your fingers redden, and your eyes tear, and the sliver gets deeper, and your scratching gets harder, and your friends are now farther, so you leave the sliver but every touch remind you you have a sliver..
..it just reminds me of you.
I am thinking about you like a child thinks about tooth aches
I am thinking about you like an adult thinks about the bills
I'm thinking about you like a coward thinks about death
I'm thinking about you cause I have to. Cause trust me, I don't want to. But you're there. I'm thinking about you cause no matter what I do you're coming. Lingering. And with you comes pain. No, you're not worth thinking of. But gosh I can't help it. And words can't describe it. But if I tried, I'd say it tasted blue.
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