So, I’m really rather mortified that, as a society, we have to dedicate an entire day to being romantic and cheesy and shit, because apparently we just don’t do enough of that in our normal lives. Obviously the solution is to make one day out of the year that’s dedicated to romanticness.
And then let’s capitalize the crap out of it. Flowers! Chocolates! Balloons! (no seriously) These’ll all tell your significant other that you really care about them, and you put thought and effort into choosing them a gift! Woo! Go Hallmark!
I mean, seriously, America—Do you have to make every single dang holiday a consumerism one? And if you must, could you please not name it after some guy nobody knows? Please? Is that too much to ask?
“ They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered. ”
(via beautiful-fabrication)
(Source: sufjanism)
This is a collagey thing I made about a week back. I stalked one of my friends through her art class and creep’d on some friends.
I’m such a band nerd.
This is the full version of the song we used as our opener for our marching season this year. I found it while I was trawling youtube, and I’ve been trapped listening to it for the past twenty minutes.
It’s seriously a pretty awesome song.
Y’know.. There’s so much hubbaloo over the meaning of life. It makes me laugh, really—that we, such insignificant creatures, think we can decipher the meaning of life?
There’s too many different perspectives on it. That the meaning of life is to find the meaning of life, or to become gods, or to life and die and move on to the afterlife, or that there isn’t a meaning of life (sensible, considering that all that we build in this world will eventually be destroyed). There’s seven billion people on this planet, and I’ll bet that each of them has an idea of what life “means.”
Personally, I find more serenity in a much simpler ideal:
The meaning of life is to live.
That’s the short version. The long version is something like this:
The meaning of life is to experience all that you can, to spend every moment of your existence valuing that, treasuring what a gift it is to have consciousness. No matter what you believe, our time here, in this world, is limited. If there is some variety of afterlife it will be far different from Earth, and if there isn’t an afterlife, well, then Earth is all you’ve got.
Life shouldn’t be squandered. It shouldn’t be wasted, or neglected, or taken. Life should be respected, in all things.
It’s too valuable to be spent squabbling over petty things that, in the grand scheme of things, don’t really matter. So don’t waste your time wasting time. Go out there and do something that makes you feel alive.
We have free will. I don’t question that—I’ll always have the <i>ability</i> to choose what I do or don’t do at any given point in my life.
That said, <i>how</i> I make these choices is based off of millions of different variables, all of which come together to affect how I think. Thus, while I have free will, it’s entirely possible for how I think to be “predetermined”, if you will, by other factors. For example (a broad one it may be), past experience with a bad relationship would affect how I handle a new one. My experiences of today will affect how I perceive and react to those of tomorrow—this is the basic formula for developmental learning.
This isn’t to say that I don’t have free will, though, because I can still choose the completely irrational option (or more rational options; it doesn’t matter.) The point is that my choice isn’t determined for me.
“Fate” or “Destiny” is an excuse for the lazy and the meek, to blame their course of life on, when things don’t go their way. Life is what we make of it.
I constantly want to go up to people and be like, “Hey, would you mind if I took your picture?” but I feel like I’d be a creeper for that.
I should just get a shirt that says “I’m not a creeper, I just really think that’d make a great photo.”
Argh.
Thoughts?
With every decently long holiday I get from school, I travel out to Pennsylvania. Specifically Pittsburgh, though sometimes to Philadelphia. Though I usually do this about four times a year, each time I return to PA (I used to live here) is like a revelation.
I love Pennsylvania.
I can’t rightly explain why—Maybe it’s the fact that they have real hills, or the fact that the roads of the suburbs surrounding Pittsburgh feel like they were designed by a drunk “abstract” artist, or that the streets here feel like they’re just charged with energy. (Which is rather ironic, since I’m usually in the middle of a dead steel town that’s falling apart, but whatever.)
It just feels like this place has a soul.
It might be that I’d feel differently if I had to live here, now, but it still bore that same sense of adventure when I lived here before.
Anyway. Enough random rambling from me.
What state do you absolutely love?
Dear United States Educational System and [Name of My City Here] Central Highschool,
Do you honestly expect me to learn anything important about the foundation of the United States by sitting in this incredibly uncomfortable chair while my teacher drones on at the front of the classroom? Honestly, have you ever heard of a “hands-on learning experience?”
Perhaps if your curriculum wasn’t so terrible, our test scores wouldn’t be costing you money.
Sincerely,
A very incredibly bored revolutionary-type student.
