Man, I don’t know what to write about, but the thing is, I want to write

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to think.

It’s weird. You know that feeling you get, when you’re really ambitious but really lazy at the same time, and it just ruins your total sense of human-ness; because even though you have it in you to do something great, you just don’t want to also, because you just don’t…BUT YOU DO. 
Ambition and laziness don’t go well together my friends. 
Today was my last day of school. It was actually the first time in my life where it didn’t actually feel like the end, but it was. As much as I yearn for the summer days to come, it beginning to scare me a lot. You lose friends over the summer, you lose a sense of value in yourself because a lot of the time, one spends it just laying on the couch all day watching T.V or movies or lounging through the internet, and the resulting feeling is just TERRIBLE. I MEAN, EVERY SUMMER I HAVE MORE THAN 10000000000 EXPERIENCES IN WHICH AT THE END OF THE DAY I FEEL LIKE A TOTAL WASTE OF LIFE BECAUSE I DID NOTHING BUT WATCH KOREAN DRAMAS OR WHATEVER I’M WEIRDLY INTO AT THE TIME.
That’s probably one of my biggest fears about summer. The amounting possibility of Wasteful Days, and I hate Wasteful Days.
I think I’ll be better this summer though. I have plans. I have dreams to turn into reality. I have a human mind and soul to set in motion and change the world! Because I’m going to do it guys. I’m going to change the world. Steve Jobs said so, so it is going to happen. I mean, if you’re crazy enough to believe you can actually change the world, then you will. 
I guess that’s it for my little writing time of thoughts today. I had something inside me that I needed to get out, and I didn’t know what it was, and the only way that could have happened was by writing something. Honestly, I was planning on writing about, The Graduate, (ELAINE!!!—ELAINE!!!….BEEEEN!! -sorry just had to act that one seen out cause’ I needed to and it’s just an awesome scene.) and also my last day of school and stupid freaking grades. But instead you got this other useless entry about, once again, my urge to figure out what the heck is going to inside my brain and what I’m going to do with my life. Throughout the next few months of summer this may a recurring topic in my blogs. The internal psychedelic confusion and tantrums my brain and conscience throw are a regular in my life, but then again, we are humans. And humans are weird. 
My brain as of now:

Why I love the word Freaking

I love the word Freaking. More than any other word on the planet, and knowing just how much of a bold statement and insult that is to the English dictionary, I best be ready to back this statement up with some freaking amazing reasons, or as any professional English teacher would say, valid arguments.

You see, the word freaking, or as I more accurately voice it, “freakin'”, is at its core a replacement for the word F-U-C-K. It’s a lee way into merging into a growing teenage/adulthood world while still maintaining some sense of innocence. The day that I actually say the actual F-word consistently instead of saying freaking consistently, is the day that the easygoing kid within me dies, and trust me, that’s just never going to happen.

Don’t get me wrong. I say the abominable F-word sometimes, a little sometimes, and I feel way too harsh saying it, depending on the situation. Or in other words, like an intense Voldemort, but then again Voldy is always intense. BUT, at the same time it gives me such a rush of rebellious nature that kind of overwhelms me in a way no other word does, and I like it. But using the F-Word with every other word I say defies the entirety of the English language and kind of feels like machine gun bullets after bullet shooting at me with too much unnecessary tyrannical word power and too much cynicism in one sitting. SERIOUSLY, at some point I just have to walk away because the idea of the F-Word, and the history that this F-Word has crawling behind it is just too much for me too handle. Too much of its usage results in the loss of its powerful quality.

I mean, both Freaking and the F-Word can give off a sense of AWESOME, but savor that awesomeness, because every time you use a word there’s a quality behind it, a power, a meaning. Don’t use these words without the power they deserve, because then they just become another word, and that’s not good.
Look here:

the office is freaking awesome. History is fucking awesome. HECK YEAH.

See, there’s a sense of power there. It’s like, BAM. You really know those two things are really, REALLY AWESOME.

But THEN, there is the magic that the word Freaking gives us, that the F-word will just not be able to give us—ever:

And simply put, it’s the magic of innocence. I know it sounds lame, but it’s true. When I say freaking, I feel almost defiantly liberated from the moral limits of a kid, while keeping a fair distance from that horrible thing called adulthood. So basically, it’s a teenager stage word. It’s not super intense, but it’s not weak either.

And it is just freaking amazing.

Just figured out the stages regarding this word:

1. Childhood years: “What the heck?”
2. Teenage years: “What the freak?”
3. Adulthood: “What the fuck?”

Of course, option 3 and 2 always, ALWAYS, cross each other, and it always will. I don’t think I can no longer prevent myself from ever saying the F-word when I’m extremely frustrated or intense. I can just prevent from saying it ALL THE TIME. I don’t understand how people say it constantly.

I guess the word freaking is kind of like preparation for the future, you know? When I think about it, it makes me sad that at my age I can willingly say the F-word because it means I’m growing up, and I hate growing up, even though I love it.

In a way, “Freaking” is like my safety valve from shying away from the world of innocence, or ignoring the creeping aspect of the grown up world. It makes me feel young; a rushing feeling of overall awesome, because it’s such a freaking awesome word to say.

Weird how much love I have for this word. I mean, I still say “What the heck!” all the time too. And it still totally give off strong vibes, when said right, and most importantly, when said awesomely.

You can probably tell I’ve been saying freaking a lot these days, but honestly I say all day everyday, because as my title states, I love this freaking word.

Random Statement of the Day: Fuck Chemistry. (The F-Word is valid in this statement because my intense hatred matches the F-Word intensity. “Freaking” is too good of a word to even be used among the atrocity that is chemistry anyways.)

HOLD UP. HOLD UP.

freak·ing
ˈfrēkən,-kiNG/
adjective & adverb

USinformal
  1. used for emphasis or to express anger, annoyance, contempt, or surprise.
    “I’m going out of my freaking mind!”

LET”S GET THIS STRAIGHT. THE ABOVE IS AN INCORRECT AND HORRIBLE STATEMENT OF THE DEFINITION OF FREAKING. THIS IS THE DEFINITION OF FREAKING.

freak·ing
ˈfrēkən,-kiNG/

        -AWESOME



TCWT Blog Chain…Woah, Let’s talk about books.

So, here’s the thing about writing about books: It’s that I haven’t read as many at this point in my life as I think I should have…I don’t know. It seems that if I have any aspiration of being a writer, I should have read a wide range of books by now, but then again, I’m still young, and I have a whole three months of sweet, sweet summer to read, and that’s beautiful.

Anyways, LET US BEGIN.
Topic: What kinds of published books would you like to see more of? 
1. Teenagers or children growing up (or I guess better said, “coming of age”), in obscure countries we don’t really hear or read a lot about; ever bro. What I’m talking about here is countries like Bolivia or Argentina, the Philippines, Finland, Uzbekistan, Turkey, or some other country most people don’t care about, or don’t take notice of. See, teenagers are universal, if that wasn’t made clear by the life cycle, but there are so many of us going through what many would call, “The Wonder Years” (if you get my T.V show reference) or what I would call “The worst years of your LIFE”. And every country has there own culture, or restrictions, or government, but most importantly, every country has there own way of growing up, and it is the time while we are growing up as teenagers that is most important, and should be the time of our lives most learned and analyzed from. I want to know what it’s like to go to school in Hungary. I want to know what it’s like to like a boy or girl in Uzbekistan, or what it’s like to live with a family raised in the Philippines, or what it’s like for a teenager with dreams and ambitions as huge as ours in a country so limited of opportunity. I want to meet these teenagers, same age as I am, and see through their eyes a place on the other side of the entire planet. 
2. Books from the point of view of an INSUFFERABLE DOUCHE. You know, like total tyrannical fascists like Stalin or Hitler, or more unknown, but equally as unethical, the average school bully. It’s strange, right? Why would we want to read books about the worst people on the planet and that EVER lived? But at the same time these horrible people, at the end of it all, are still people, with feelings, and hormones, and fears. The mystery is, just what made them think the way they do? What happened to them, or how did it function in there mind that what they were doing was okay? I mean, there’s always a background to everything, and maybe some of these horrible people don’t really want to be horrible, so then why are they?

3. Homeless people, AKA Hobos. You know, people living on the streets of New York City, or Austin TX; I’ve truthfully NEVER read a book about a homeless person, let alone a homeless teenager living on the streets. Sure, I guess Brian in Hatchet is homeless, but he just trying to survive in the wild, not on the streets of some of the grandest, beautiful cities in the world, like NYC. It would be interesting to me to see a world of success, passion, excitement, crime, malice, and injustice from the eyes of a homeless person. How they live, where, what they go through in the winter, in the hottest of summers. A lot of things can happen to homeless people. From the encounters I have heard from, people tell me some of these homeless people begin to lose their minds a little bit. I don’t mean to sound rude or crass, but being homeless can be a real detriment to the mind. It’s just a topic I have never really seen in published books.

4. Toddlers. These types of books would be pretty difficult to write to the core, because so few of us really remember what we were like as toddlers; and sure you can search up all of the scientific studies done on toddler’s and their brains, but nothing is like actually describing seeing the entire world as a toddler, or to be even more extreme, a baby. But then again, vocabulary is VERY limited at that age… I don’t know. Whenever I look into the eyes of a growing toddler or baby, and I see that insane expression of wonder whenever these little humans experience something new, I’m like, “Man, what the heck must that baby human be thinking?!” The expanding mind is a crazy thing.

Yep, so I guess that it for now. This was a really awesome topic and awesome blog chain. May the force be with you all young Padawans…but especially me because my Chemistry exam will be horrible. I mean the worst. The worst.

ANYWAYS, here’s the rest of the list of some freaking awesome writers, because writing, simply said, is awesome:

May 30th – http://teenscanwritetoo.wordpress.com/ – We’ll announce the topic for June’s blog chain!

I’m so excited for Air! and the Scarlet Letter (that’s a shocker)

Wow.
It’s actually kind of crazy but I’m somewhat starting to get my shit together, at least 25% of it, and that’s honestly a record.
(I mean, who can ever get 100% of their shit together. It’s near impossible…or is it? It is, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.)

So exams are coming up soon, as well as the dreaded Chemistry Exam consisting if 160 blessed questions. (This is clear sarcasm my friends.) But explicating the truth here, I’m staring to actually find some feeling of organization and validity of knowledge. I’m pointing at words in my chemistry textbook indicating my recognition of the subject, or in other words, “Hey, I actually know some of this crap if I really think about it”, or at least I know how I can figure it out eventually. And then there’s Pre-Calculus! Here’s the thing about that subject. You either freaking love it, or it just frustrates the core of your very nerves. (In contrast Chemistry does that 24/7). I love the feeling I get when I get an answer right after spending such valuable time on this problem that has a formula that I know will have a solution in the end. It’s the one aspect of life I can always be assured on, and it’s exceptionally comforting knowing that at least one thing in my life is for sure. And then when you can’t find the answer, and you know you’ve followed all the rules, but then realize perhaps you don’t understand the rules, and if you don’t understand the rules, you can never get an answer. Incredible how symbolic a nature Calculus and math overall can be to life.

(I’m also trying to use higher level diction because tomorrow I have to write an essay on the Scarlet Letter and I really think I could get an A on this one. SO, prepare yourself for one pretentious blog post.)

I also think I’m feeling at a cerebral advantage currently as a positive effect of the music I’m listening to right now. It’s (back to my comfortable self noooow. YES.) FREAKING nice and amazing. The reason I add in nice is because it’s such simple, mellow, weird music, and I honestly could listen to it for the rest of my life. And you guessed it, or maybe probably didn’t, but it’s by a band named Air.

Here a link, if you’re interesting, because you should be:

Basically, if you name a band Air, you know it’s essential to our life productivity, so they’re basically telling us listen to this music or die. True fact. Just kidding, but again, it’s worth listening to. Really worth listening to. (English teachers don’t like the word really. Mrs. Diction (pseudonym for my actual English teacher, because she’s obsessed with power verbs) would be disappointed in abundant concrete measures with my poor use of wording, neglecting the beauty of such majestic power verbs.

(Probably messed up some grammar somewhere there too.)

Anyways, my essay tomorrow is on The Scarlet Letter, and although I didn’t actually read the entire book, I got some aid from the amazing Schmoop website-a much better adversary of Sparknotes in fact- and through Schmoop I learned so much more about how much of an amazing book this really is. Seriously, I respect it a lot more now that I actually know what it’s talking about, and I just like what it has to say and what it has to teach. These are topics as teenagers that we are preparing ourselves to face in the future, such as redemption, love vs. evil, religion, justice, injustice, judgement, restrictions; and although we face some of these subjects to some extent now, when we’re adults, I feel like these themes are going to reach entirely new levels that we’re going to have to face.

And Hester Prynne is actually pretty cool, and so is her Scarlet Letter, and so is Pearl, and Dimmesdale, and Chillingworth, because as people, they just represent such a vast range of themes and topics it’s insane. I’ve decided I’ll give the book another try over the summer. I mean, it can only benefit me, after all, it’s basically a walking dictionary of especially higher level diction. I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite book, but it definitely makes me think, and when a book makes you think, but then again more importantly feel, it’s a good thing. A really good thing (Ha.)

Stand-Up Comedy

So my friends, I am in orchestra.

Now the sudden change in topic. BOOM.

So, what if I wanted to be a comedian? Strange thing is, I’m not really known for being funny, at all, so the fact that I would even consider a life as a stand up comedian is strange and far off to me-no, it’s stupid, but I do make people laugh.. .sometimes…a low sometimes, but still, sometimes.

Lately I’ve been watching some stand up comedy from Aziz Ansari, Louis C.K, Bo Burnham, and I’ve realized one essential aspect of all these comedians. They’re super relate-able, in the aspects of our lives that we don’t really think about or like to think about that much, because it’s just weeeeiiird- to some people, but these people make it FREAKING HILARIOUS.
Bold topics ranging from vagina, or penis, or extreme profanity involving bad words, life, babies, children, stupidity, intelligence, relationships, history, math, science, politics, horrible people, awesome people, George Bush, A bush (I talking about the herb-or plant I guess) animals, eyes, teeth, eating habits, Rosie the Riveter, growing up, being old and pruny, raisins, everything!
It’s weird. We don’t really, as conversational human beings, tend to have conversations about raisins or their significance in our life, but comedians can take an object as simple as a raisin and turn it into a comedic masterpiece, because how CAN’T a raisin not be hilarious. I mean, it’s a raisin. They’re an official disgrace to humanity. Seriously, they should be on the American Black List.

Anyways, I guess what-or who inspired this little surge in a stand-up comedy is B.J Novak, a writer/actor from “the office” (I left the office NOT capitalized because that’s how it should be people-lowercase “t” and lowercase “o”.)

So B.J Novak went on Ellen for his new book of short stories, called One More Thing. , and in the interview he also talked about his early days as a stand-up, and the profusely overwhelming number of times he completely bombed, in which he even had to have help from the audience, but even then, no laughter.

So that’s when I decided I wanted to try it of course.

I know it’s weird. His A-bomb of a bomb as a stand-up in his earlier days is my inspiration to try this terrifying thing one day, but look at where Novak is now. He was an actor and more importantly WRITER in one of the funniest shows in history hands down; and from his beginnings as a bombing comedian, that’s freaking amazing.

I mean, it’s inspiring. He said himself that you can’t get any better at comedy if you don’t bomb first, and learn from the embarrassment and your comedic mistakes in front of an entire crowd.

First-hand learning experience. That’s how you learn my friends, no matter the humiliation: it’s exactly the thing that makes you become something greater and better than everyone. Humiliation and Embarrassment.

RAGING BULL- i don’t know what to think

I promised people, I promised, and I told you I was not going to try that hard to keep that promise, but here I am.

———————————————————————————————————–
So, I started writing this entry a few weeks, maybe a month back, and I haven’t even gotten to it until today. But understanding this movie is important to me, and understanding why I don’t understand is something I would like to figure out also. Sooo…Let’s see how this probably misleading movie review goes.

(Damn. I’m going to have to stop this entry again due to uncooperative math homework. No matter though, I like math, it’s not like fucking Chemistry. Yeah, that’s right-the F-word; Chemistry is that bad.)

———————————————————————————————————–

The review:

So, Raging Bull marked the third movie by Martin Scorsese that I watched. The other two are Hugo and The Wolff of Wall Street (which I only watched an hour of because that’s all the shit I could handle from that movie. Seriously, who can even watch the whole three hours?) I heard-well, read a lot about Raging Bull. It stars (pretty sure Scorsese’s best friend) Robert DeNiro as real life boxer and heavyweight champion (I think) Jake La Motta.

The movie centers around this man, La Motta, and his rise in both success and failure as a fighting human machine, both in the ring and out. Beginning in 1950, we see La Motta living with a wife he doesn’t love and a yet to be accomplished dream of becoming a boxing champion.

-You know what. I’m going to have to stop here. Because although I will tell you I watched this movie, I still wonder if I really watched it. A few minutes ago, I was reading Roger Ebert’s review on Raging Bull, which received a promising review of five stars. And as he talked about insecurity, redemption, fear, and the meaning behind the ring La Motta fought in for so many years, I was just wondering why I didn’t get the feeling Ebert got from this film by Scorsese. I remember, when I first watched it, the dramatically sweet music that played in the opening and that would play in the end. I remember thinking, “Man, La Motta is freaking crazy, and insane, and I just can’t stop watching him.” I remember the overcooked steak and the vacant love between La Motta and his first wife. I remember La Motta asking his brother Joey to hit him, hard, again and again and again, and I think that’s when I decided that I was going to watch this whole movie.

At times, I felt odd and confused watching the movie, because it was filmed so different than any other movie I had seen before, and La Motta was so different than any other character I had seen before. The way he first acted around Vickie, so shyly confident and quiet, if you know what I mean. And Vickie! Man, was Vickie menacing. Plus, she was only 15 years old, compared to what must have been at least a 25 year old La Motta. It’s clear that la Motta falls in love with this very young woman, and only later I realize that Vickie really loves him too. Thing is, La Motta’s paranoia reaches extremities, and everything Vickie does, I mean every single thing Vickie does or says, he HAS to know about, and if there’s even a little, just a little hint of suspicion within him, BOOM, he goes nuts. I mean, what I got out of it, is that he’s really jealous. He wants Vickie to be a part of only his life, and no one else’s, but Vickie’s too much of a person for just La Motta, and La Motta knows it. The amazing thing about Vickie is that she’s just so strong, but La Motta is crazy and strong. So all this internal struggle La Motta has he takes to the ring, and there are scenes where he just stands in the ring during a match, and willingly let’s the opponent punch him to new bleeding depths. And I’m like, why? Why? I felt like he wanted to show people how strong he was, how many hits he could take and still remain standing. I think he did this not only for the sake of his boxing career, but his life outside the ring too.

The redemption part of this film, I get by the end. I get it that it exist as a theme, and the scene where La Motta is overweight and old and drunk and helpless in the prison cell screaming and moaning, “Why! Why, why, why, why, why!”, I do feel kind of bad for him, but not as bad as I think I should feel. I mean, I won’t say La Motta was a horrible person. I’ll say he was over obsessive about things that made him do things he shouldn’t have done that he knew was wrong but he did it anyways. Why did he do it though? I don’t get the movie. Ebert helped me understand simply what I couldn’t say clearly in words. I mean, he really knows the story, but I still feel I could know the story in my own way, because if I don’t know a film with my own thoughts and feelings, then I don’t know what to think of it.

I do want to say this though.

Throughout the movie, I never felt disconnected or distant from what I was watching. I think I was just watching something I couldn’t quite understand, because it’s a subject I’m just not very familiar with. I thought the film was beautiful, and it always kept me thinking, because it felt as if every scene was holding an essential secret, that I don’t quite understand yet.

I’ll watch it again, because I do want to understand this movie; but I need to understand it my own way.

Waazz Goiin Ooonn Yoo

What a lame title.

Anyways, I think I have three things I want to talk about today…Mmm, maybe four, but I’ll probably talk about that in another post.

ANYWAYS.

First things first, time for world news baby- (never use the word baby)

Okay, it’s not world news, BUT, it’s pretty freakin’ unbelievable. 10.3 GPA unbelievable, but it’s true.
Someone, on this earth, has recieved a 10.31 GPA, and is eighteen years old, right here in dandy old Florida. I guess we are good for something. Just kidding, FL’s nice, kind of. But yeah, that’s what I heard today. Honestly, I wasn’t aware anything higher than a 4.9 GPA even existed, so when my mom comes up to me and tells me this shit(in the good way), I’m like, “WOAH! That doesn’t even exist Mami. Impossible. No. Just no.”

And then she shows me the computer screen, and BAM!

There it is. A 10.31 GPA earned by an Indian looking girl/woman (you never know when that transition of maturity happens, even in the smartest of people) that apparently took a total of 17 AP classes and other classes at Community College. It’s actually kind of freaking awesome. She’s going to be freaking awesome.

Thing is, when my mom was like, “See, I told you.” after I saw it, you could totally tell she was saying, “Now you need to get a 10.31 GPA. Why don’t you have one already (my name)?!”. Expectations, expectations.

Here’s a lesson people. Never expect anything from anyone. Not even yourself. But of course as humans we can’t do that, so we will expect.

Second set of useless information I want to tell you about. I have a violin recital tomorrow, standing on the stage…… ALL BY MYSELF.

I mean, it’s not my first time, it’s my second time. Yeah, not that much experience. I definetely think I’m less nervous this time, but the fact that I’m writing this tells me that I may have a little internal freak out tomorrow, or I’ll remain calm. I didn’t practice that much for it, mostly because I had a lot of things happening (test, HW) to me this week, so time is not on my side, but I think I sound decent. Luckily, I don’t care or am not so scared about how bad or good I sound, I’m just excited to play, because I really love this song I’m playing. It’s really frakkin’ awesome. My confidence is improving I think. At school, when I’m walking in the halls, I feel vulnerable but then something happens to me and then I’m standing tall and proud and I’m like, “Fuck these people. I’m awesome”. Over the past few weeks, I’ve made some videos and participated in them for my TV Broadcast class that was shown to the entire school, so times were sensitive in the beginning, but I realized I didn’t want to quit making videos, because I loved. I LOVED IT, and if other people didn’t like my video, oh fucking well. My teacher says something about high school is where you should make all your second hand stuff, the place you should make all your worst mistakes, and learn from them before going out into the professional world, so that way you’re freaking awesome after high school. So as much as it is embarrassing to show my face to the whole school, I’m more confident because I won’t stop showing my face, as okay looking as it is.

I was in this commercial the other day about sleeping, because my friend needed an actor, so I helped her out, and later in the day when her commercial finally showed (a commercial that she was not in), someone assumed it was mine and told me to my face, “Your commercial this morning was boring and awkward…and that’s just being frank.” Course’, I knew this guy, and his like a freaking alien people, but I still felt bad when he said that, even though I respected him for his flat out honesty, because seriously people, NOBODY does that, all I could think about saying back to him was “Fuck you.”, because what do you say to that? It wasn’t even my commercial. But yeah, I’m actually done talking about this, because I don’t want to care about it anymore. I don’t think I do, but I do want to remember it.

I want to remember that if other people can say shit without thinking through it first, why can’t I?

I mean, I’ll consider people’s feelings. But I don’t want to stay quite. I want to have a say in people’s thoughts. I want to communicate and learn from other people, whether there stupid or not, but I don’t want to be friends with them. The majority of the people at my school are just no….just no. Except one person, who I talk to everyday about whatever and she talks about whatever. I like to think of her as my best friend, but we still don’t do things that best friends do, like hang out a lot and go over to each other’s houses, but she is the best friend that I have ever had out of all of my friends. Along with this other girl from middle school that I wish I stayed in touch with. Everyone else, stupid. I hate pretending to like people.

Oh, and the third thing. I forgot it, but guys, I just want to tell you. I’m going to start a Youtube channel, and a website, and go to college, and be a strong person, and that’s not an expectation. That’s just pure knowledge.