I Want to Swim in the Garden.

There it is again, that sinking feeling deep down in your core. It feels like the world has thrown me into the raging ocean with nothing but a life jacket for a toddler. It's just enough to keep my head above water, it's enough to keep me from dying as my fragile, breakable body is shoved and jerked around by the violence of the storm. My life is just one big movie. A movie that keeps you on the edge of your seat, a movie that you wouldn't tell any of your friends about because it's treasured. It's your's and you want to sit alone in your room and watch over and over because it gives you feelings that you couldn't openly share with others. My life is a roller coaster of genres. One day I am preppy with my argyle socks and matching sweater, the next I smear dark eye shadow on the pale skin of my eyelids and prance around in my black suede combat boots. People may think I don't know who am I. I've hit that crucial point in life where no matter what costume I choose for the day, I know who I am underneath the multicolored fabrics. And I understand a very hard concept that many people never grasp. Underneath our clothes were all naked. We are all the same. We are all the same, we are humans. We are all made up of the same materials, we are all carbon-based. I don't care if someone's sexual orientation is different than my own, or what religion they are, or if they prefer mayonnaise on their burger instead of ketchup. If they have a pair of expensive shoes, or if they only wear old tee shirts and jeans, it's okay. It's not our job, as humans, to judge, belittle, and berate others of choices they make. Because at the end of the day, who cares if they wear different socks on each foot, who cares if they wear black and brown in the same outfit, who cares if a girl is 110 pounds or 160? What's on the outside is superficial, the fundamentals of their personality may have nothing to do with appearance. I am a human, and so are you. We all live in a tumble of weeds, and everyday we have to pull one out in order to grow the garden of who we are. Some gardens may be more extravagant than others, some may be full of roses and others full of different grasses, and that's okay because it's still beautiful and it's still our own. I have have a little bit of everything in mine, I feel as though I have a plethora of colors that almost burst from the petals of each and every flower. Not everyday can be sunny, so we have to remember that we shouldn't fight who we are, and we should always fight the tempest that comes our way. We need to view struggle, not as a thing to avoid, but a thing to dive head first into, because struggle builds us, struggle helps define us.

Oops.

So I haven't blogged in a while, and I deserve a good slap on the wrist. As of Thursday I have been reading a very inspiring book called "The Perks of Being a Wallflower". Wow...Just wow. This book is connecting with me on 1,000 levels. The writing style is brilliant! It was given to me by a girl in my technical theatre class named Jess. I think she and I may become good friends, but we'll see. I've been struggling with high school lately (not academically, more or less socially). I'm growing more and more to dislike most people. Also, I've been having anxiety attacks over my birthday. Silly, right? Birthdays are supposed to be fun and awesome, especially your 16th. But unfortunately we cant afford sometime grand, and I prefer something small anyways. And all I want for my birthday is driving classes and my license and a car. Cliche. But I think my parents are going to get me and iPod. I don't want to sound ungrateful at all, because and iPod is a great gift, and they're not cheap, but I just wished my parents would listen to me. For example, the other day my mother and I were talking about what I wanted to do for a birthday party. I told my mother I wasn't sure yet, but I knew it would be small and only with a few friends. And promptly my father told me that I didn't have friends, and the only thing I could say without bursting into a sobbing mess was "You're right", my mother said nothing in my defense, so I just walked away and locked myself in my room. We haven't talked about a party since. I'm starting to really think about what it means to have friends, and what separates acquaintances from friends. Sure, I have many acquaintances, but only a few friends if any at all. Which conveniently goes back to the book. I want to have friends like Sam and Patrick. I want to have people I have moments I feel "infinite" with. I want to be a teenager, and live like a teenager, and feel how a teenager feels, and have great teenager glory moments. Instead I sit at home, read, listen to music, and sleep. I'm hoping my day to live comes soon. I'm ready. I used to live and feel free and invincible, but the person that gave me all those memories is gone, everyone leaves in some sense. They may not die, but your friendship might have. But I guess that's a part of life, too. The one think I'm actually excited for is our production this year at Fine Arts Center "My Name is Rachel Corrie". Great play for sure, it's real, like REAL. Rachel Corrie was a real person until the Israeli army bulldozed her. I honestly don't know much about politics or other countries, so this play is a eye opener for me. We are the first theatre to do it in this area. It's only been preformed a few other times by theatres in Europe and New York. We're just teenagers doing a play that's really controversial. That's why I love the Fine Arts Center. We're constantly challenged. Well, that's enough ranting for today.

The World of Coke.

Today, my family from Jersey decided to take a trip to Atlanta, Georgia (it's only a 3 hour drive). I tagged along in hopes of getting one last hurrah in before school tomorrow. The World Of Coke is surprisingly awesome. However, I do not recomend doing acid then going there (not from personal expirence), the exhibit centered around the secret formula was trippy. Not only were there projections, cameras everywhere, and strange whispering sounds. It made me feel quite uncomfortable, but sometimes I'm just a scaredy-cat. Theodore "Pop-Culture" exhibit was amazing. I guess I never realized how influential a soda could be. The museum had the original advertising posters from the 50's. My father said the museum would have been a "[antique] picker's heaven". I do have to say that my favorite exhibit had to be the Coke tasting room. It was fantastic! I tried Coke products from Africa, Europe, Asia, Latin America, and North America! Some of the tastes weren't expected, like the "Beverly" from Italy.
I tried every flavor there, because even if you didn't fancy the taste, you still tried it and made the memory. We spent about 30 minutes in the gift shop, but I don't mind because my aunt and uncle bought me a cute shirt (which I'm probably going to wear tomorrow on the first day of school). After The World of Coke we went to The Atlanta Underground (which is a pain to get to, we got lost. Twice.). Atlanta's Underground is similar to a market place or a shopping mall with a lot of kiosks. I was quite worried the whole time because there were so many people who appeared to be nafarious, it was a sketchy place. According to my uncle and father the area had really cleaned up since they were here in the late 70's/early 80's. We ate at this little restaurant called "The Georgia Peach", they had amazing southern food (better than my Mama's). I didn't even care the location of the restaurant once food hit the table. It was seriously some of the best food I have ever had. Overall, I think the last hurrah to my summer was quite a sucess, I've definately made some great memories today!

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