By Nickleback, you know, the band?
The song is about memories, and I’m feeling very nostalgic lately. I miss so many things, friends, writing, reading, freedom, family, and just the old times.
I know I can’t dwell on it, but I can’t help but feel this loneliness, yearning for what once was. I just want to make time go backwards, but I know I can’t.
Just wanted to get a bit of that feeling out, just this once.
Lately I’ve had this feeling that people either do too much for me, or I do too much for them. I have distanced myself from people to see if my theory is true and started accepting the help of other individuals more often to see how it plays out. So far I am traveling to this horrifying conclusion, but I would like to share certain instances first that have occurred with people who have played a part in my mental study.
First, the one that bothers me the most is this time in AICE US History where Shixiu did not cheat for me. I know, cheating is bad and what not but I studied for this class and AP Chemistry and by changing ONE answer, I could have received at least a D on the test which on a four-point scale, would not damage my astronomical 14.00 in the course because of the extra credit. I cheated for Shixiu, enough to give her a B in which she left answers blank for me to fill in and she did not write in lowercase letters and we switched pens because she didn’t want to get caught. Oh, she also had a 14.00 in the course and that is because I brought her candy to turn in as extra credit as well. I did a lot for her that test, and she only got about three questions right on the test so she would have had a flat out F- not even close to a D. I was very upset at her that day because:
a) I was willing to cheat that much for her, but she wasn’t willing or in her cases “forgot” to cheat for me
b) I gave her candy to get that extra credit and I didn’t want her grade to go down after boosting up so high, and I didn’t ask her to pay me back and refused to take her money.
c) I had another AP class to study for as well as a journalism test that day, but all she had was Moffi’s exam in which she flunked worse than I did (mind you, she is MUCH better at retaining information than I am).
To compensate, she gave herself an F which didn’t make me feel better because its as if I gave her the candy for no reason. My conclusion? People would rather put themselves down to your level (or lower their level?) than actually help you out. It is in fact a greedy world, no matter how pure and good you think a person is.
A positive instance is with my boyfriend Josue. I hate it when people pay for me, I usually don’t go out if I don’t have the money. Unfortunately, my boyfriend is rich and likes to go out a lot. I finally allowed him to pay for me because I was getting shit from everyone. In doing so, he was actually happy. I have paid for a date once and I try to keep him at my house watching movies instead, but I decided to finally accept the fact that he can pay for our dates. I guess I’ve accepted help from him in that case, and he actually helps me study for my courses and such, a person that I never wanted to accept help from and it’s only done me good so far. It is reciprocal though, I do my best to make sure I do what I can as a girlfriend and best friend. I am very pleased with this because:
a) It feels like an equal give and take relationship
b) I actually see the benefits rather than hope that he returns the favor
c) We’re both pleased
I don’t know, but my theories on friendship seem to be proven more and more as high school goes on. Just as a refresher, there are four types of friendships:
1. The type in which you need them more than they need you
2. The type in which they need you more than you need them
3. The type in which you are okay with one person needing the other more
4. The type in which you need each other equally
Cynical way of looking at it, but that very well seems to be the case. Nothing seems to be reciprocal anymore, but I seem to get the short end of the stick.
I never understand what that song meant, but the title just recently seems fitting.
I feel disconnected from a lot of people. I think it is my fault now that I look at it. I shared the blame with others and sure, maybe they have some fault, but the majority is mine. I don’t let people in as easily. I dislike it when people do, but it seems to work in their favor. I don’t need the benefits, I just need the stress relief.
Last English class Mr. Walpole had us write a letter to him in which I couldn’t begin to explain myself and how I was feeling. I merely scratched the surface and I believe that the letter method helps. Stranger or friend, please don’t judge me for writing a letter to absolutely no one, but I highly suggest it as a therapeutic method. It makes you feel better.
Dear Friend or Stranger,
I would like to tell you that you could be both a stranger and a friend. Luckily, wordpress is more personal than facebook so it somewhat makes sense here.
Anyways, I have been very stressed lately. I’ve only broken down once and I guess that’s a good thing. I usually complete all my homework, but not with the best quality, and I attempt to study as much as possible but I’ve never been much of a studier. I find junior year to be quite difficult and harsh, and it’s not only because of the classes. I no longer have a real connection with any teacher nor do I have a real connection with my classmates. I love them to death but sometimes I feel as if I’m just someone on the sidelines to them. I think it’s because I have distanced myself from my Cambridge class, something one should never do. I used to communicate with everyone personally, always asking them how they’re doing and they’re feeling, if they ever need help. I stopped because it wasn’t reciprocated. Yet, I think I was selfish. I should still do what I can for others, I just shouldn’t let them step all over me.
That’s the problem. People have been taking advantage of me for years and I just can’t say no. I don’t mind doing a lot of favors, but sometimes I just can’t. I try to be considerate and conscious of that fact but I’m more driven by the need to help someone. It’s both a blessing and a curse really.
My family has been alright. Still no real respect for my studies though, what can I do? I rather not disclose family stuff here.
Another thing I want to address are my feelings. I haven’t really felt genuinely happy in a while. I guess I’ve felt sad, but not even that. I only ever seem to feel tired and/or stressed. I’m numb about 85% of the time. It’s odd really. I smile and laugh, but I don’t FEEL it. It’s as if my body knows how to respond but my brain nor my heart feels any emotion towards these reactions. I don’t think I’m depressed, but is there a condition for being numb?
I really don’t have much time to drone on and on about my hardly complicated life. I would like to offer advice now.
Never waste time, you never get it back. It’s like breathing, it’s always a new breath just as it’s always a new second. Don’ teat too many beans on a Sunday night before school, and join a club that seem worth it- not because they’re well known. That’s probably the only set of advice I can give you since all of my outcomes have been shitty.
I love you all,
Gaby
I have Mr. Walpole again this year, for my junior year. This AICE class requires us to cover and memorize depressing poetry. There’s one particular poem that I have taken no liking to, but I love the title. Why do I adore it so much? Perhaps because its relevant to my life right now.
This is my anthem.
I’m having my anxiety attacks again. I’m going back to that dark depressed hole where I rest in, crying. I haven’t actually let the tears flow though. Not yet. That’s how I know I’m doomed. That I will forever be this person that allows reality to smack her in the face and bring her down fifty feet. I don’t have much time to write. I’ll continue another time.
Sanctus Real. A Christian band.
To set the record straight, I do not absolutely FEEL alone. I merely feel as if I have no one to talk to sometimes.
That’s not a proper way to start a post. I really don’t know how to start this one to be honest. Someone recently told me to not formulate my replies but to just write. Original text, something I am no longer used to.
Every time I think about updating my wordpress I try to find a topic worthy enough. Do I talk about my amazing boyfriend and how I’m happy but yet still semi-depressed? Do I talk about recent family issues just to get it off my chest? Do I talk about conflicting feelings, my confusion, my loneliness or mood swings? Do I speak of the stress or write vaguely about a lesson I’ve recently learned in life? I still don’t know what to write here. I suppose I’ll just write.
Summer is here and I’ve gone back to my old ways. I don’t particularly like talking to anyone. It’s nothing against my friends or family, I just rather not be attached to my phone or any social networking sites. Yes, I rather read and spend my time on Tumblr. I think after that one lonely summer I grew accustomed to making time for me. I just like to wander around and see where it takes me. Late nights, early mornings, unplanned moments- my usual self.
This is going to sound terribly cliche but I do not know who I am anymore. Dear God just reading that upsets me. What I am trying to say is that I have changed. Yet deep down I’m still the Gaby I’ve always been. I don’t show my affections or emotions anymore but I still cry as easily and love hugging people. I don’t lay my life story on the table anymore, but I pour out information when asked. I no longer socialize with everyone and create a deep bond with each and every person, I just pick certain people. I don’t put up with people anymore, I no longer say yes to everything- but to certain people I will. I guess I’ve gotten more particular, more private.
I guess I should write about the male species. They have always confused me. Usually a girl’s issue is that she thinks the guy wants to be more than friends when they don’t. I’ve always thought the opposite, that they just want to be friends. That I’m someone they confide in, not someone they want to get with. Unfortunately, even with a boyfriend that is not the case.
That’s another thing. I actually have a boyfriend. I actually settled, a little too quickly I might add. I worry everyday that I did not weigh things out properly, that it was hasty. That maybe I would have been better off with someone else. Maybe my feelings aren’t enough. Maybe they aren’t pure. I will admit it, he probably likes me more than I like him. I don’t like to admit this though. Its absolutely awful to think that the end of this relationship will be because of me. I am happy though. Sometimes, when I’m in one of those “I don’t want to live anymore” moods, he picks me up. Sometimes he brings me down further. He doesn’t know this though, and I am not comfortable telling him. As my boyfriend you’d think that I’d be comfortable telling him anything. I really am not. I don’t really like telling anyone anything so personal anymore. “Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.”
That’s another thing. I hate it when it is not reciprocal. When I open up and the other person doesn’t or when they run away from the conversation. That, on its own, is heartbreaking. That happened to me a few times last night. Sometimes I wish I couldn’t go back and read text messages. Sometimes I wish that I couldn’t confirm a few things. I don’t like how vulnerable I am so late at night, and I especially hate that I have no one to talk to at that time.
So many guys have told me the same thing. “You’re so pure”, “you’re young”, “you’re innocent”. The thought came to mind, should I still be? Should I change? It would make a lot of things easier. I’m not only speaking in sexual terms, although no longer being a virgin would really break that “pure” label. I’m just saying in general. I’ve floated away from my religion. I have really embraced this whole “you’re only young once” mindset. I have just decided right now that it’s wrong. I do want to stay pure. A lot of people don’t believe in waiting for marriage, some don’t even believe in waiting at all, but I want to. I don’t want to drink or do drugs. Frankly, I don’t even want to try it. Someone told me that I give up too easily. Actually, two very important people have told me that. I don’t want to in this case. I actually want to be one of the few teenagers to make it through.
You know what sucks? And pardon my break from eloquent language, but it really sucks how I’m depressed but not depressed. I could honestly say that if I were to die today I’d be okay with it. It does not scare me, and sometimes I want it. No, I really don’t think I’m suicidal, I just think that I’m floating through life doing what I’d like until it end. Everyone tries to find the meaning of life, and I don’t think there is a meaning. We just make one up for ourselves. For some people it may be success, for some it may be love, for others it may be to simply to have fun. For me? It’s just to get through it. I try this whole, “But life is great and there a beautiful things!” and yes, there are so many great things about this world. There really are. Like Adam Young has said, “there are bright and beautiful things in this world”. I try to look at those things. I get caught up in reality though. I suppose that’s just me being cynical.
This post is quite long. The topic is worthy though. Why? Well because I got a lot off my chest. I haven’t had a personal, deep-meaning post in a while. I guess this is what happens when you feel alone.
Oh, by the way. To be the catcher in the rye is a beautiful thing. I’ve always been a realist though. I have no choice but to watch people grow up. I can’t help but feel that I’m being left behind though….
Gaby Nunez
4/29/11
Period 3
AICE Essay
Why Have You Changed?
Mom: (Slowly pacing around her bedroom).
She used to be so sweet, like the taste of honey drizzled over candy. Since she turned fourteen it’s like an alien invaded her body ridding Stacy of her angelic nature. I just don’t know what to do anymore. If I punish her she still disobeys me; if I try to talk to her she brushes me off and gives me a scowl; if I try to win her over with gifts she tosses them aside claiming that they’re (in a mocking tone) ‘not her style’.
I don’t know what’s gotten into her! (Takes deep breath) I never taught her to be rude. ‘Please’ and ‘thank yous’ were always enforced. And her (makes air quote with fingers) ‘style’ looks as if she got her clothes out of a dumpster. Stacy always wore bright vibrant colors and looked so clean cut. Some people even claimed that she resembled Hilary Clinton, her hair always perfectly parted and her clothes wrinkle-free. Her favorite color use to be pink for Christ’s sake! I don’t know where she gets her dark make-up, or even the idea that her wardrobe has to consist of only dark colors. The neighbors use to love her; they used to ask her to babysit for them. Now they don’t let the children play with her because they are convinced that she’s worshipping the devil. (Stops pacing) That hurts a mom, it damages her pride.
(Speaking to herself in the mirror now).
She looks just like me, and when we argue it’s horrible. It’s like arguing with a mini-me, a smaller twin that can predict your every move before you make it.
Stacy would never question my authority, now it’s apart of her daily routine. The worst part is that she’s a good student, and she even does all her chores! (Voice raises) She’s a good kid!
(In a convincing tone) Maybe she just has a problem with authority? Yes. That’s it! She just doesn’t like listening to others. She’s a leader herself! (Discouraged) She never used to have a problem though. Stacy was always respectful and followed orders. She’s just changed so much…why have you changed Stacy? (Look directly in mirror).
Word Count: 367
Stacy: (Briskly walks into her bedroom and slams door).
(Screams) My mom never understands! Like, I get it. I mean I don’t listen to her sometimes but this woman always thinks that she knows best. I’m fourteen, not four and I don’t need mommy to go shopping for me. She doesn’t even know me!
(Throw herself on bed) Why does she even try punishing me? She knows I’ll sneak out later. She’s just so stupid.
(Gets off bed and moves to dresser with what looks like a mess of make-up). She keeps telling me (mocking tone) ‘you’ve changed Stacy. You use to be so polite and angelic.’ To hell with that! That’s not how a teenager should act. (Rubs dark blue eye shadow on her eyelids). Pfffft. An alien took over my body. Puh-lease. More like, I woke up and got smarter.
(Finishes applying make-up and goes to closet across the room).
(Mocking tone) ‘Oh Stacy I got you a new shirt in your favorite color- pink!’ My mom doesn’t know style. Hasn’t she heard that black is the new pink? (Picks out cut up jeans with holes everywhere from closet). In (stresses) –my- generation, teenagers don’t dress like the Brady Bunch. Pastels are so out, black is what’s in. Dressing proper? Pfffft. That’s for goody two-shoes.
My mom thinks I’ve changed- and sure maybe I have just a little. What mom doesn’t understand is that she’s changed too. She’s come up with new rules that don’t make sense. Call her every two seconds to tell her where I am? I can’t go to a boy’s house to hang out? What is that? She just doesn’t listen like she used to, or maybe she never listened, I was just fooled. She used to always support me and my beliefs, now she shoves her ideals onto my lap. Mom has always taught me to be independent, to think for myself and not care if someone disapproved. (Slowly pacing around the room). She’s turned into a hypocrite. Somewhere between my transition from childhood to adolescence she’s decided that it’s not okay for me to be unique. That being, or just looking, a little weird is wrong. (Stops in front of mirror).
If I could go back and have our mother and daughter heart-to-heart talks, I’d ask just one question: (looks into mirror) why have you changed?
Unfortunately, I’m just left here talking to myself in the mirror.
Word Count: 380
Stressed Sally
2/2/11
Period 3
Bulls Eye
On one dark and drab spring evening as dusk approached, I decided to take a short cut home. Crossing the barren and filthy streets in my cheap thrift store sneakers I had to fight my way through an obstacle course, dodging canine feces, foul sewers, and other forgotten begrimed items. Upon evading yet another anonymous item- I heard it. My ears pricked at the peculiar thud of a pair of heavy boots stepping into a polluted puddle. At first I thought nothing of it, but they grew closer.
A chill ran down my spine but I just couldn’t bring myself to look back. Continuing on the same path, a loaded cloud hovered above my head and lightning bolts lit the evening sky. Taking refuge in the nearest building I glanced at the convenience store’s name, Bull’s Eye. Upon entering, a chime welcomed me in- along with a startled rat. The fluorescent lights flickered in time with the thunder and the multiple refrigerators hummed dauntingly. This place wasn’t as welcoming as its chime. Attempting to keep my placid composure I couldn’t ignore my angst. Perspiry palms, prompt heartbeat, panic stricken- for some reason I felt endangered.
Another chime added to my qualm. Now attentive, I swore I heard a blade leaving its carrying case. I slid down behind scanty shelves and shut my eyes trying to stay calm. With every footfall I squeezed my eyes tighter- then I felt his breath against my forehead.
“Bulls eye”, he whispered as he grazed my cheek with his smooth, slender, blade.
Matilda Eisenhower
11/4/10
Period 3
AICE English
Short Story
Mistaken Identity
The soft green grass tickling my belly, the warm sun shining on my peach colored fur, and the sound of silence in my own backyard; all familiar and pleasant. Stretching out my mighty paw I listened to the humans move their things in and out of the townhouse in the distance. The sounds were faint to the average ear, but my cat ears are mighty sensitive to even the slightest bit of noise. Twitching my ears to every loud crash I continued to clean myself. Licking my dirty paws over and over again I saw the humans add more boxes to their pile as well as a long black object on the other side of the backyard. Leaning against the wooden fence, it reflected an intense yellow light.
After spending a considerate amount of time cleaning myself like every good kitty, I found a better way to entertain myself; lunch. I really do enjoy the time outside. I’m usually a house cat so coming out is such a treat for me, especially when lunch is one of those common birds that always spend their days lounging on the power lines that hang over the townhouse. It was early afternoon, only a few were there. Soon, it would be time for their lunch too and some poor black little birdie will be searching for insects in my grass. In my territory they’ll be feasting, but little did they know that they’ll have a little she-cat on their feathered tail.
The hardest part about hunting as a house cat is that you’re so out of practice. Also, patience runs thin. It’s not like I could enter the house though, they were moving too many things and my short little tail might get stepped on. Lazily I waited for a lonely bird to swoop in and peck at the ground; and one did. I began the usual feline-crouch; hind quarters in the air, head in the grass, slow and careful steps. My dang collar made some noise and scared the birds away. I had completely forgotten to take extra precaution, how stupid of me! I quickly wiggled out of my tiny red collar and buried it in the ground, my gold painted tag being the first thing I cover up, just in case another bird might be coming down.
Waiting patiently I rolled in the dirt to mask my scent. I know my owners would despise my dirty peach fur, but I didn’t want to take anymore chances. Besides, they’ll bathe me anyways so it’s not like it’s a terrible crime. As soon as I finished I only waited a few more minutes; it’s like the birds were keeping me on schedule! Sure enough there was yet another, but smaller, black bird. Its fur was like coal, a dusty onyx color showing age; you could tell that this bird was of an older generation. I resumed the feline-hunting-stance. Once again my hindquarters were in the air, my little tail poking out of the long grass, my face smuggled in the sweet smelling blades of nature, the bird only a yard away munching on insects. Inching closer the grass tickled my pink nose; I really did have to resist the impulse to sneeze. When I was just a few inches away, preparing myself to pounce, I stepped on a snail shell and it cracked under my weight.
The old bird was in mid-flight when I batted at his wing injuring it. I thought it was the end of it there, but oh I was wrong. The bird began this hop-fly routine, but it never really left the ground. I was stunned at first, so my lunch got a head start. Chasing after it I reached the other side of my yard, where the ground meets this wooden fence. Right before hitting that black-reflector object I caught the bird. Satisfied, I pranced around with the bird in my mouth. That’s when I really to a good look at the object.
My owners had left it there, it seemed broken because some pieces were missing, but that wasn’t the peculiar part. There was a dog, a little dog with peach colored fur, looking back at me. Not only that, but it too had a bird in its mouth. I was confused! This dog did not bark at me or growl, not that I encounter many dogs, but it just looked back into my caramel eyes. Quickly looking back to see if maybe it was behind me I only saw the yard that I had spent my whole afternoon in. It was empty, except for a few boxes that were gathering at the backdoor. I dropped my meal and just stared into this peculiar object. Soon enough my owners came speaking their strange language. I just continued to stare at this dog, this tiny little rat-faced dog.
“Mom, look what Kitty is doing. She’s looking in the broken mirror,” said the little girl fixing her shirt as she placed a shoe box down next to the mirror, “Kitty’s never looked in a mirror before; I wonder how she feels Mommy”.
“Sweetie, Kitty probably doesn’t even know that she’s a Chihuahua, but it doesn’t matter, she lives a happy life anyways.”
This topic deeply applied to me and involved newspaper writing. I had a word count for each article so it was a tad limiting.
Churro Mar
5/2/11
Period 3
AICE Essay
Write two contrasting newspaper articles (between 300-450 words each), one called ‘Only Science Can Save Us’ and the other called ‘Faith Is What the World Needs’. In the article you should develop reasons and examples for both points of view.
Only Science Can Save Us
Evidence and logic has shown that only science can rescue the human race and all of its developments.
Naturally, all good things must come to an end and that includes planet Earth. Due to this fact; the same question is always brought to light: what about the human race? With technology and scientific knowledge the human race does not have to end along with the planet.
All living things have generally the same necessities; oxygen, water, a resource of energy, and a place of homestead. The only known place that contains all of these requirements is planet Earth. With such a wide universe there must be something out there that has most of these requirements, or could house all these necessities. If humans could find some way to take these necessities and somehow start their supply elsewhere then they will have a Plan B if Earth was close to becoming nonexistent.
The only planet that resembles Earth (so far) seems to be Mars. The two planets have similar orbits and tilts on their axes, meaning that a day on Earth is identical to a day on Mars. Mars too has volcanoes, dust storms, oxidized surfaces, and traces of a magnetic field. Although they are not similar to Earth’s they are still characteristics that are found on both planets. With this information, who’s to say these characteristics can’t be identical to Earth’s and found in another galaxy?
Another option that scientists are exploring is the possibility of settling on the moon. With astro-architects and using the knowledge that NASA’s astronauts have collected, a new world can be constructed. It’s been seen in a countless number of Sci-Fi movies, the thought obviously has been passed along for years. Now the issue would be coming up with every detail. “Living on the moon isn’t an issue,” said Mark E. Kelly, Commanding Astronaut at NASA, “it’s surviving there that seems to be the problem.”
A new location seems unlikely at this point; at least until space exploration reaches new heights, but what about a change in biology? Scientists have been toying with mutations and genetics for generations and have accomplished so much. In one study experimenters were able to take a protein of luminescence from a specific species of jellyfish and successfully transfer it to an ordinary rabbit in which the protein functioned the same way. There have been no side effects and both animals are still living.
If scientists can figure out how to come up with a mutation that allows humans to live without one, or a few, of the necessities and use genetic engineering to come up with a new generation that could live to such adaptations- then the human race has hope.
There are many options that can save the human race, but it is not quite endangered yet. It is important to keep in mind though; the only thing that can save us all is the advancement in science.
Faith Is What the World Needs
Science and technology may be adding factors in what has kept the human race afloat, but one key factor has been overlooked, faith.
Some of the oldest stories in history speak of a higher being curing disease, bringing people back from the dead, and surviving unlikely situations. There is one common factor in every story though, there were people that believed; faith was a factor.
This is what the world needs. With the lack of faith and the repression of religion violence has been a reoccurring behavior in society. If societies continue this way then the human race will destroy itself, if another force doesn’t.
If the end of the world were to occur, as predicted in variation in monotheistic religions and in the neopagan faiths, the only way one would save themselves or ‘survive’ (for lack of a better word) is if they had faith. By having faith one would either continue walking the earth or move on to a ‘paradise’ or ‘heaven’ to join whichever higher being they believe in.
What the public fails to understand that the end of the world is specific. As said in the Book of Revelations, Judgment Day will arrive and those who didn’t believe will suffer and face judgment along with a terrible fate while those who did believe, will bask in the glorification of Christ or the Messiah.
Those who are sacrilegious will argue that there is no higher being, that there is no apocalypse or Armageddon. Those are the historically ignorant. The Mayan calendar has predicted the apocalypse for centuries, and claim that the end of the world has occurred before; the Romans have saved documents describing it, the Assyrians even mention it in tablets. The most common piece of evidence though seems to be dinosaurs.
Dinosaurs, although extinct, have been providing a peephole into the Earth’s past for decades. With over a hundred different species walking the earth they become extinct in just a few days. Asteroids killed them off, and then, a new generation of biotic organisms flourished. Reading the Mahabharata, and old Indian poem, one realizes how strangely identical the scenes and settings resemble Earth in that time and the time after, especially the Eastern side of the world. It, in a way, predicts the future which at that time consisted of nuclear weapons, world wars, and natural disasters, in great detail. To not take into consideration what societies have predicted before would just be a form of ignorance.
All predictions and stories have that one common factor though, those who did not believe suffered. If history has taught the human race anything, it’s to have some sort of faith. Faith is the only way to save the mankind from total extinction. Faith is what the world needs.
It’s been a while, but I’m back 
Life has thrown some curve balls and I finally decided to give up. I literally turned off the lights. I didn’t want to look for details or mistakes, I just wanted the big picture, just a silhouette. The world seemed so different. It was great.
For the world I suggest the same. You may not want to change, but just change ONE thing, and there should be a difference in your life. I want to keep this post short, I don’t want to get into it, but just make ONE change if you need to spice things up.
For the record, I no longer want to be the catcher in the rye but the person who watches the children grow up.
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