ranting into space

What was left of the string is now unraveling, unwinding, getting tangled in itself.

Sometimes I don't know what to do. My eyes tend to remain dry, but that doesn't mean my soul inside is not tormented with every step, every breath. Well, that's not entirely true; I am a happy person the majority of the time. I smile I lot. I laugh a lot more. I love life.

But sometimes it feels like nothing else could go wrong.

Then I try to remember where I'll be in eight months from now. That's pretty consoling.

Unfortunately I can't keep telling myself that. When I was in middle school, I told myself high school would be much better. When I got to high school, I found that the differences were small and few; the size of the school was larger and the immaturity even more prominent. Now, a senior in high school, I tell myself that college will be better. Will it? Sometimes I'm not so sure. What about after college? Will I be able to travel? Will I get married? Will I have a family? Will I be published?

Most girls my age have dated at this point in their lives. Why is it that I haven't? Why can't I even find a guy friend who wants to go to a school dance with me? And prom? I want to go, but I want to go with someone. It can be a friend. Many of these questions are rhetorical, I know the advice that can be given. But it just doesn't comfort me.

Then there's water polo. Individual achievement is amazing, incredible, and fantastic, but when you play a team sport it's hard to feel accomplished when your so-called "team" does not even know the most basic fundamentals of the sport. Including the fact that it is a TEAM SPORT. Shooting the ball whenever you like is not how we can win games. Oh, and just because you are going to a college to play water polo (a lower-end college, athletics- and academics-wise, by the way) does not mean you are necessarily a good water polo player. Let the local newspapers gloat over you for now. Years from now, when I'm playing internationally with a world-class university degree, you will look back and regret ever being a bitch to me. You can guarantee that I won't remember you.

Black and Orange are much better colors anyways.

To be loved

Perfectly compatible. That's what I'm looking for. Not merely, simply, seemingly compatible, but truly, madly, insanely compatible. Like peanut butter and jelly, ying and yang,  Jack and Jill. I want to fall in love. Hard. I want to live life. I want to be adventurous; a daredevil, not meekly sitting on the sidelines watching as time passes us by. Yes, time has the appearance of rushing by us, and I want to be so caught up in the stream of time that it seems to stop; to suspend. There is nothing that can describe my longing for a happy life, and I am doing my best to get myself there. Of course, I can't control everything that happens in my life (I guess I have the notion that there is some free will in this world, but some things are beyond our control- like the actions of other people), but for the things I can control... Well I don't want to mess anything up.

They say that there is someone out there for everyone. That true love is waiting for you just around the corner. Maybe it is, but there are plenty if people who live their entire lives searching and never finding that special someone. I have of late been contemplating why it is that I am alone. My theory, as has been seconded or proposed by others, is that I have higher standards than some. On the one hand, I suppose it means that if I do find someone they will be intelligent, athletic, competitive, handsome, and adventurous. On the other hand, there is that "if"...

But who's to say that I need a man to be happy? Certainly not I. But that doesn't go to say that I wouldn't be even happier if I did have a man in my life. Someone to comfort me, to cuddle with me, watch sappy movies with me, get me flowers and chocolate, tell me I'm beautiful, even when I think I'm not. If someone like that walks into my life, he sure will be a keeper. I only hope that he will think the same of me.

It's 2014 already?

You know, people don't give a shit about what I write. I realize that I am a 17-year-old nobody, and that my writing, as I've mentioned before, isn't even that great, but that doesn't mean I don't want a touch of praise here or there (even criticism would be welcome at this point). After all, people only crave attention, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I want some too from time to time. In a world of facebook and twitter and instagram we've been raised and cultivated to believe that we are pathetic nobodies unless we are publicly recognized for our abilities (or lack thereof). But you know what, I don't really care. Maybe I'll succeed, maybe I'll achieve my dreams, and maybe I won't. What does it matter to you? If you like me, that's terrific. If you don't, well then so what?

It's 2014. I am graduating in six months, and I am going to be at Princeton University in about eight. It's a new year and I am feeling hopeful.

Are you feeling hopeful?

Goodbye.
No, hello.
You've stayed a while
and now it's time to go.
you did well,
yes, bravo!
Oh, please,
wish me luck,
I think it's time to go.

To be quite honest, it has been a crazy year. I don't feel obliged to tell you why exactly, but perhaps you can infer from the couple other posts I've written. If not, well, you've always got your imagination. Of course it all has a lot to do with college and boys and school and just life, but the details shall for now remain locked in my head, and perhaps on the pages of my journal, if I decided to write any of it down.

One last thing, why must your eyes sparkle so? and why must your smile be so dazzling? Please stop being perfect...

Have a wonderful 2014, everyone! (ehhhh just me, I guess? But seriously, if there is anyone reading this please say something to me. I want to know if anyone reads my nonsense.)

Me and the topic of love

What is love? And why did Mother Culture come up with the idea of love in the first place? Love is the meaning that we assigned to the otherwise meaningless act of procreation. Although at this point, procreation has become an interesting topic of discussion, seeing as humans are multiplying like cancer. But love. Yes, love. I can't say I really know what love feels like. I love my parents and my brothers and sisters, without a doubt, I even love water polo and learning and the world, but I can't say I've ever really loved a partner. My two month relationship Freshman year with my now really good friend was not a love relationship. Sure, we cared a lot about each other, but what we had was not true love. I've never had a relationship since. I am a virgin. Sure, I've had crushes and guys who have crushed on me, and I was even on the verge of being in a relationship with a guy who I found was not right for me at one point. The one guy I have crushed on the longest doesn't appear to feel the same way about me. Oh well, at least he also got into the university he wanted to.

So what is the point I am getting at here? Well first of all I want to repeat myself and say I don't know squat about love but I like to pretend that I do. Second, from what I do pretend to know, love is the exact antithesis of rationality. Everything that love entails is irrational; unpredictable; unexpected. But a relationship, now that is something else entirely. You may love a person with all of your heart, but you might never be able to have a good, strong relationship with them. You two may seem meant for each other, but when it comes to some matters, you could not be any more different. It's sad, but that's the way it is. Sometimes it is possible to make sacrifices and still maintain a healthy relationship. Sometimes that's not possible at all. You cannot ask a person to change who they are just because of how much you love them. Love is irrational. A relationship must not be so.

There is something else: life is unfair, and so is love. I have seen many classmates and adults in and out of relationships. Many of these people (to me at least) appear unattractive and unintelligent, which makes me wonder how in the world they are in relationships in the first place. But then I know people who have it all: intelligence, athleticism and kindness, and they are, like me, without a significant other. Why is this so? Part of me says that someone who "has it all" is intimidating. That is, it is intimidating to ask them out, for fear of rejection. Another part of me says that having it all limits your choices, so to speak, for people who are right for you. I suppose both of those are slightly positive, because hopefully in the end you'll end up with a really great partner. But at the same time, it's hard because in the meantime there is no one, and loneliness often appears to be our only companion.

Who even reads this anyways?

I'm still shaking from a decision I found out eight hours ago...

What is this decision, you ask? Well, if you didn't know, 'tis the season of college applications and acceptance, referral and denial letters. As a high school senior, I am no less excluded from this very stressful process. But earlier today, I received some of the best news of my life. I have been accepted to the school of my dreams, and one of the most prestigious (if not the most prestigious) universities in the world: Princeton University. As my friend put it earlier, "the best part is you'll have school spirit all year round without trying, well at least your hair will." I laughed a little at this, thinking to myself, "I guess it really was meant to be; even my hair preordained it!"

But don't let me fool you; I really do think this is all so surreal. I mean, did I really just get in to Princeton University??? The home of the Tigers, the orange and black? Wow, I guess I really did. Fours years (well, three-and-a-half) of hard work have finally paid off. Hours spent doing homework, finishing projects and studying for tests, as well as countless hours of training for water polo have not gone to waste. It finally seems as if I will get somewhere in life. I know I always said that it doesn't matter what college you attend; it only matters what you make of it, but it really is nice to have the ability to attend a truly great university. to be able to tell people that yes, I went there. Obviously I'm not there yet, but it is closer then ever, and I am beyond ecstatic. The best part is, I get to play the sport I love and I get to study among some of the brightest students there are. And who knows, maybe I'll meet that special someone. I still haven't been on a real first date, you know. But that's for another post.

But there is something I would like to discuss, and that is the matter of my aim to major in English (an aim which has been criticized by many). I've dreamed of being published for quite some time now. I know I am not a naturally gifted writer, and like I said in an earlier post, I certainly cannot be compared to the great classics, but nevertheless, writing and the expression of our thoughts, our ideas, our philosophies, has always fascinated me. I won't say that English has been easy for me. On the contrary, it being my second language I still have trouble from time to time with properly articulating myself. But this, in turn, has motivated me to work even harder. In fact, it's quite incredible to see how much my writing has developed over the years, even weeks. For the past two months, I have been writing in a journal each and every day. I have found it an incredible way to not only let out my emotions, but also to find myself, in a way. Of course, years from now I will look back at the entries and laugh. But that's okay, because we all need to laugh at ourselves sometimes. All laughing matters aside, writing this journal has also allowed me to see myself grow as a writer, both in terms of my writing as well as my piecing together of what means most to me.

And at the moment, what means most to me is living a fulfilling life. Part of that, for me, means not only living up to my dreams but also helping the world become more informed about an issue that I have been growing more passionate about every day: the Earth. See my earlier entry for more on how I feel about this. Hopefully more entries will follow.

So goodbye for now, my non-existing-fellow-cyber-exploring-bloggers-and-friends.

The Earth

I feel an urgent need to post something today...

First off, I apologize for never continuing the story that I began a while ago. If you must know, in my mind's eye the fin was a friendly dolphin, but feel free to use your imagination to come up with any ending that seems fit. If you must, kill me off, but I really would prefer to hold on to my life for the time being.

Which brings me to the gist of my post, actually. What do I want to do with my life? If you haven't already noticed, I love to write. I want to be a writer. I know that my writing is neither mind-blowing nor worthy of being compared to some of the classics, like Steinbeck, Dickens, even the more modern Rohinton Mistry (we are reading A Fine Balance in English at the moment), but I love attempting to sort out my thoughts, I love to create fictional worlds with fictional characters, and I love to adopt a persona; my ideal self, I suppose you could say. But lately, my passion for this Earth has grown (no pun intended). It all started when I read Ishmael, which was given to me for my last birthday by my good friend Dave.

Reading Ishmael was, as they say, a life-changing event. I will not give you a summary here, because I will in no way do it any justice. All I will say is that if you have any ounce of respect for the very entity that gives you life, in all respects, then you would order yourself a copy of this book, this beacon of hope for the human race.

My first response to it went as follows:

I'm starting to believe that China may have the right idea in mind, that China (while it is snootily aware of it) may be ahead of the rest of the human race. We are facing extinction, and it is coming sooner than we think. All of these warnings about the end of the world (in the form of movies, books, and religious crazy talk) may not be so crazy after all. Humans, prepare yourself, because the end may be near. What does China have to do with this? With some exceptions, Chinese law dictates that families can only have one child. All politics and ethics aside (having a boy versus having a girl), the law may actually be helping to curb the already exponentially expanding human population. New medicine and technology allows for longer, healthier lives, resulting in more people on the planet. More than that, however, is that humanity is not allowing natural selection take place. A natural law that is meant to regulate all of the animals on this Earth, including humans, who think they are above this law; after all, we are humans, and the world was made for us. God created life so that we could come and conquer it, did He not? But natural selection is not just a law that you can vote to change. Sooner or later we will be punished for breaking it.

I don't believe the world will end in a "zombie apocalypse," but I do believe that is doomed to end for us unless we can step up and do something about it. However, I have trouble even playing with the thought of the human race admitting its mistakes, stubborn as it is. Science is trying to dominate the world, and I don't think it will give up the chase any time soon. I didn't realize it before Ishmael, but everything we do in the "name of science" is an attempt at controlling "our" surroundings. But are they even ours to control? Of course not. Yet, just one look around you and you know that it is exactly what we have been doing. From being able to split atoms to landing on the moon; from genetically modifying food to inventing plastic. Moreover, while the human race seems to be becoming more politically democratic, liberal and free-minded, it is a tyrant. It is a tyrant of the world, of the universe, of other animals, and even of itself.

For now, I must leave it at that. But don't you worry, I will be back. If anything, I will attempt to convince the one or two people that actually read anything I write...

Chapter 7: The Day I Got Lost at Sea

As I kept growing, both physically and mentally, so did my world as I knew it. But with each new day, I felt myself growing smaller and smaller in the shadow of the unknown. Just look at the ocean: serene and majestic, comforting and soothing. But beyond these qualities, it is the most surreal thing that we, as humans, can come in contact with. It makes us realize that the world is not ours to control. I witnessed this on the day I got lost at sea.

The sun shone behind me, warming my back as I gazed out into the ocean, nothing to see but water stretching for miles and miles in every direction. If I had not been as young as I was, I would have rendered the sight beautiful and breathtaking. But I was a mere child, bored with the long trek at sea, wondering when the next stop would be.

My father stood beside me, eyes closed and body relaxed. The ocean breeze rustled what hair he had left and he smiled contently. My mother was in the cabin, seasick and crabby. She did not appreciate the ocean quite as much as my father did. As we stood there, I saw land off in the distance. "Father," I asked, "how long will it take us to reach land?"

He opened his eyes and looked at me, "who knows," he said, "maybe an hour? Maybe less?"

An hour was better than two, I decided, and looked back across the ocean. My father left to go join my mother back inside.

Just then, a dolphin jumped out of the water, not more than a couple feet away from the boat. Finally, something exciting! I leaned over the railing as another dolphin jumped up, even closer than the first. I reached as far as I could. One jumped up, just out of reach, so I leaned over the railing until my feet were no longer touching the ground. This time, when the dolphin jumped up, I was able to touch its skin. It was rough, not at all what I had expected. But the momentum of the dolphin pulled me forward and, as I struggled to gain some balance, I toppled into the water.

I suppose that because I was not very heavy, I did not make a very large splash, because no one came rushing to the side of the boat to see what happened. Not even my parents.

As I came up for air, the first thing that came to my mind was that the water was so dark. I could barely even see my feet, let alone the bottom. How was I ever supposed to know if a shark was coming up from below to eat me? Meanwhile the boat kept steadily moving forward, kept steadily moving away from me.

Then, everything was quiet. It was as if the world around me stopped; no more boats, no more talking, no more splashing. But the shadows below danced as if to the beat of a drum, and told me the world was still alive. Alive and dangerous.

From the corner of my eye, I saw what looked like a fin. When I turned my head, it was gone. In that moment, the water seemed to grow ten times colder and a hundred times more ominous.

TO BE CONTINUED...

*dislaimer: this is not a real event, but the life lessons are