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if you can’t hang (day eighty nine)

when i was younger, i didn’t understand the limitation of speaking about things such as religion in school. i thought everyone was overthinking and preparing for something that would never offend other people. obviously, as i grew older, i started to see the reasons behind the ban. i have always believed that other religions were as equal as mine, if not more sometimes. i saw the flaws and strengths of of each faith the way i saw my own. i am only interested in discussions when i feel like the topic is not trite or petty, but i can see why we don’t talk about gay rights in school. i understand that that’s not what certain people believe in, and even though i strongly do, i don’t think my stressing that it is simply equality will change their opinions or bias. i feel that if you can’t hang, then we just have to let it go.

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bet you thought you’d seen the last of me (day eighty nine)

vera unwrapped two sticks of wrigley’s double mint and sighed. wrigley’s was too sweet, and the flavour ran out easily, like an unexperienced kid running the mile for the first time. a sprint that reverts back to a panicked jog, basically. vera preferred big league chew or at the very least orbit. she began tapping her foot. the elevator was arriving slower than she could’ve ever imagined, and she was naturally not a patient girl. in her hands she held the fourth book in the paragoned series, one of those installments that continued the story of an already trite plot. it was the way that suburban moms read books with the words passion and fire in the title and a shirtless man on the cover only her overused shirtless man was in fact a dark-haired teenage boy living in purgatory who had supernatural powers and was destined to save the real world all while falling in love with a mortal girl. she knew that the story was worn out, but there was something relaxing in having the same kind of storyline and cover on basically every book she read. of course, her mom didn’t see that. all vera’s mom saw was a waste of time that could be better used studying vocabulary words or attending luncheons with her real estate mogul mother. vera could practically feel her disdain, even without looking. she knew that her mom would be caked with makeup, so much that it almost made her look older than she was. she would be looking down at her phone, scrolling through client messages and checking dates, and vera knew this with the same certainty that she knew her dad would be standing uncomfortably, hands in his pockets and eyes wandering. the day was unbelievably hot, and everything seemed thick and slow. she wouldn’t have been surprised if the fake smile melted off of her mom’s face. all that was going on around the silence of vera’s family were buzzes from insects, and even those seemed slow. the only person she had seen was a boy her age, strolling around the courtyard. he looked so natural walking around, and vera could almost imagine living there and exercising in the complementary gym. the elevator finally dinged, and the woman showing vera’s family around the complex seemed relieved. vera couldn’t help but feel bad for her, sweating her makeup off and onto her clothes that may have been from the 90’s. on the ride up, she gabbed about the amenities that awaited any resident of the apartments (a mini post office, two cafes and of course, the gym). it was almost like a creepy little town. the woman also apologized for the lack of empty apartments (apparently everyone just wanted to live there) but divulged a little about the family living in the floor that vera’s family was looking at. apparently they had two sons, but one was in college at durham and the other was in high school (just like me! she chirped). as they walked into the apartment, vera took notice of the family portraits on the walls. they were color-themed, almost boasting the togetherness of the family. in a younger photo, one of the kids looked familiar, in a way more than someone she must have encountered on the street. maybe she went to camp with him, or attended the same church (but there were more than three hundred people each week, so no one could recognize them all). she turned around, and there he was, standing behind her, taller and a little more muscular. the same guy from the courtyard, but more importantly, she realized, from her childhood. it was craig conrad. the same craig conrad who everyone liked when she was a fourth grader. the same craig who was her reading partner for all of fifth grade because they read faster than anyone else. the same craig conrad who she hadn’t seen in years.

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different colours (day eighty eight)

not to start this off as the most cliché blog post ever but i’m realizing again and again that everyone is different. in the way that we all have different issues, circumstances, strengths/weaknesses, of course, but neither you nor i will only be the odd ones out. in the way that i am not from as influential a family as the people i know, a friend is bound to be set apart from the rest of us perhaps through gender preferences or future desires. this realization is trite, and it in no way consoles me when i’m feeling left out. i am not the only one who feels alone, and though it sounds callous, it is quite reassuring to know that i am not the only one.

but it’s strange how one person can be so ashamed of this trait that another vocal about having. i wonder to myself if there’s something wrong inside (like imbalances in my brain or such), and think that there might be a magical pill that would fix everything. but then i think that if i’m noticing the problem, there probably isn’t a problem. but i keep this to myself because i haven’t been diagnosed and i’ve always hated when people used mental illnesses as an excuse (where they don’t have the mental illness, but throw around the term to defend their actions). i am not a vocal person, and i am quite pessimistic in certain ways, so though i’m a liberal thinker, i’m not about conversations. i hate assemblies when people of no real training on the subject tries to teach my grade about eating disorders or sexual assault, because i’ll hear the same kind of banal remarks that will pop up if i search either topic up.*maybe it’s because the former hits close to home, or that it seems that people are not doing all that they can, but i am not a fan of discussions. i just can’t seem to wrap my head around how other people have opinions so different from mine when i’m so sure of my beliefs (not religion, but human rights and treating others correctly), and speaking up, though heroic in a sense, will only set me up for failure. because it’s bound that someone with more power will turn on you and make you regret opening your mouth. it’s hard to defend what you think it’s right, and though it’s the weak move to make, sometimes i just stay quiet. i don’t resist, but at the same time i don’t comply, because i think you can only pick so many battles. i’m looking forward to the future, when i’ll (hopefully) have a bigger say in things, and i won’t be scared into not being steadfast in my beliefs. but until then, i’ll just observe.

*i never talked about mine, even though it’s something that i controlled years ago, because it’s just not something you can talk about. and no matter how many campaigns set up to make conversations about them, it’ll never be something i’ll tell my friends about. and i just hate that people assume that the kind of messed up things that come with problems like mine are capable of bringing up to anyone, particularly school administrators that may as well be strangers to me. i’m sure they have the best intentions, and maybe i’m just bitter, so i really do hope that these assemblies make someone feel more in control of what they’re dealing with.

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the ultimate fake out (day eighty four)

april fools is right around the corner. i’m not a huge fan of the holiday because it never quite stands out to me (i suppose my friends are all lame in that sense) or some people do horribly offensive things, but pranks are nice for the most part. but you know what isn’t funny?

colleges sending you emails.

it’s bad enough that colleges you know won’t accept you are harassing you in the form of spam, but random colleges i have no interest in attending using my full name and telling me that i’m made for better things is a depressing sight to see. with my grades and my lackluster extracurricular activities (both of which i’m attempting to improve upon), i would be surprised if any of the colleges who spam me would even interview me. i’ve just read that one of the reasons the most elite of universities do this is because they want a low acceptance rate (to keep that nobility). how sadistic is that. to be the best warrants crushing the hopes of hundreds of thousands of people, many of whom they encouraged nonetheless? it makes me wonder if college names are overrated. in the way that not everyone who is successful graduated from stanford or columbia, not everyone who graduated from harvard or berkley went on the be rich and/or famous. i’m not suggesting that i’ll forgo college altogether, but perhaps now i’m more wary.

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synesthesia (day eighty three)

when you think about it, so much of what makes us happy is made out of colours. certain places, people, even feelings, are all expressed visually, which makes me wonder why so many people hate rainy days but love sunny days when they’re all shades of the same primary colour. why we value certain races above others when we’re all human, and we’re modified versions of each other. i was playing outside today, and looking up i was just filled with this kind of happiness that’s almost fleeting. i hate this weather (in my opinion, it’s too hot already and the bugs have been swarming) and i appreciate rainy days more than others do, but it was relaxing to look up and know that the clouds would cover me from the sun for a little bit longer. i can’t describe the way i’ve been feeling, except that i’ve been feeling a little off recently. slower-moving, and really big on staring. not at people or things, but wide-eyed yet unresponsive. staring off into the distance really, except a little cross eyed perhaps. i feel like all the emptiness from this past week has been flooded by the happiness in enjoying the weather today, and though this prime time (where it’s not too hot or too cold) only lasts a few days, i’ll take it.

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mini goals for the week (day eighty one)

most people make goals on sunday nights or monday mornings- i get that. but i also get that i won’t stick to a resolution if i wait until the last minute (throwback to when i forgot that i gave up chocolate for lent)

  1. sitting less- even though i already knew all this, this video scared me into standing. i’m going to cut down my sitting time by standing when i watch television. either i get better legs or i watch less television (great news either way)
  2. more sat work- kind of explains itself. i’m hoping to take the test in may, which is really close for someone who hasn’t quite begun studying for the math section
  3. buy more pants- first day of spring was this week, but i’ll still need more pants. i found my perfect pair at ae, and i have yet to buy them (too busy) but i also want colored ones.
  4. decide whether my horoscope is to be trusted- it said i missed an opportunity for a reason. i can think of said opportunity, but admitting that it flew by me is basically saying that i can’t chase it. i’m not sure if i’m ready for that kind of rejection.
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