February's and Rose's

It’s already February.

Right now there are a dozen roses in my room. Each rose is the size of a tightly-balled fist—yellow-pink things taunting with their open, teasing faces and intoxicating breath.

I’ve been sitting on the bed for the past thirty minutes staring into these eyeless, soulless flowers. It’s only been two days, but they’re already in full bloom; the edges of their petals have already started to curl towards a second death.

These are flowers that have been tickled by noses and heard the embrace of lips.

They have died to be sold, to be given, to be received, to be displayed, shown, loved.

They live through death.

There are only a few things that live through death.

It was my roommate’s birthday two days ago, and she walked in with these roses in hand. As she clipped the ends of the stems, I couldn’t help but hear a trill of tiny screams.

DAY 20: On Education

I'm really sleepy right now.

And really? I have to write about education?

Usually I "edit" what I write before I post it, but for the past few days, I've been spewing mind vomit. It's pretty noticeable.

I don't really learn all that much in college that I don't already know. College, from what I figure, is mainly about honing the skills you do have. Or, if you're a science/business major, drilling unnecessary information into your head. If what we learned in class mattered, students wouldn't pay to skip, fall asleep, play games, check fantasy football, and/or stalk kids on Facebook in class.

It's like brainwashing. Soon, you start seeing sex positions in organic chemistry molecules. Check it out: CH2 Vibrations

To put things "in a nutshell," I think we learn more about ourselves and others in college more than we learn about whatever we're majoring in. We learn that the bulk of us are retarded, douchebags, and self-centered bitches. We learn how to cope with friends with benefits, one night stands, and break-ups. We learn how to survive on barely edible food and no air conditioning. We become "independent," kinda. I'm pretty sure most guys still depend on their mommys to do their laundry for them.

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On a side note: I think most people celebrated Halloween this year the night before Halloween. Halloween is Sunday Oct. 31st.

There seems to be something innately wrong with celebrating Halloween on a Sunday if you're Christian.

Or maybe the Christians who celebrate Halloween really don't care. They dress like skanks on Halloween and then put on their Sunday best next week. He'll forgive you, right?

DAY 19: On Disrespecting Your Parents

I'm not a big fan of disrespecting the padres.

I remember one particular English class a couple weeks ago. We were talking about this short story by Hemingway; in it, the father commits suicide while his wife gives birth in the same room. The professor commented that it's a strange thing to have this thing--this breathing, squirming baby--come out of this other thing that you once had sex with. My professor said that death was easy. Birth, on the other hand, isn't. How do men bang their wives after they witness childbirth? That "thing" is never quite the same.


Anyways, I feel like it must have sucked for my mom to have to given birth to me, so I try to give her as little trouble as I can. I owe her big time.

Plus, I love her.

And I think it's too late for me to go through a weird rebellion stage.

DAY 18: On Beliefs

I don't believe in a lot of things.

I remember when it started.

I thought it sounded smart to write "I believe" in my papers. Believing sounds so valid, so secure, as opposed to an unsure "I think." "I believe that Romeo never sincerely loved Juliet." "I believe that the themes tackled include the loss of innocence." I believe, I believe, I believe.

This went on for some while until my middle-school English teacher told me that I failed as a writer. "I believe" should never be used in papers.

When I stopped writing the words, "I believe," in papers, I stopped saying it altogether in person. In the place of the words "I believe," I started saying "I think." Once I stopped saying the words "I believe" in conversations, I think I also stopped believing. I stopped believing in the silly notions of true love, I stopped believing in miracles, and maybe--just maybe--I even stopped believing in myself.


I'm ready to start believing though. I don't want to live in disbelief.

I think I'm starting to believe in God.

And I think I believe that things will get better.

DAY 17: On High's and Low's of the Year

I wish they would give me interesting topics to write about…I’m really just writing whatever comes into my head.

Highs:
-Lost around 10 pounds. I should be the next face for Subway.
-Exercising on a daily basis! Making those happy hormones!
-Found God. Kinda. –Let me edit that: in the process of rediscovering God.
-Getting over stupid things.
-Liking most of my classes.
-Staying on top of my work. Kinda.
-Bank account is relatively happy-looking. I don’t feel as bad shopping so often because I don’t really spend my money anywhere else…
-Started blogging.
-It’s almost spring semester!
-Bought rainboots for 6 bucks at Target. They were on clearance. Most people buy their boots for near $200.
-My laptop hasn’t broken down yet!

Lows:
-Hating Asian Art History. I should have learned from my mistakes from taking African-American Art last semester…
-Having crises about my future. My mom said that, with my major, I’m going to “starve.”
-Mom tricked me into buying her a $70 sweater.
-My sister has a boyfriend, and I don’t. Shame.
-WHY IS THIS ENTRY SO FUCKING BORING?

DAY 16: On Mainstream Music

Mainstream music can be amazing.

I mean, a lot of it is crap. But it’s good crap. It’s the kind of music that has a bouncy tune that you can shake your hair to and feel beautiful. It’s the music that gets stuck in your head when you’re naked and in the shower. I mean, I think I’ve sung “Ridin’ Solo” using the showerhead as a microphone a couple of times.

I’m actually one of those really annoying people. You know, the one’s that say: “Oh my God. I told you so. I listened to that song waaaaay before all of you. I knew it was going to get big. Dammit. You said you didn’t like it back then. What did I tell you? That was all all all me.”

Then I realized how much I hate people who do that, so now I just keep those thoughts to myself.

But Michael Buble? I listened to him waaaaay before all of y’all.

DAY 15: On Favorite Tumblrs?

Right now its 12:23 a.m. There are crazy drunk kids outside early Monday morning screaming. I think I should get to sleep.

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I don't own a Tumblr, and I don't know any famous Tumblrs--so I guess I'll just make this short and post a few blogs I like that come to mind:

Hyperbole and a Half

PostSecret

Cake Wrecks

EPBOT

The Oatmeal

That's all I can think of right now. I just finished a long personal reflection paper for a class, and my mind feels like mush.