Dreadful Two Hours

Dominique had spent so many summers and winters, surrounding herself with people in order to feel alone,that the experiment of actual solitude was an enchantment to her and a betrayal into a weakness she had never allowed herself: the weakness of enjoying it. she stretched her arms and let them drop lazily, feeling a sweet, drowsy heaviness above her elbows, as after a first drink. She was conscious of her summer dresses, she felt her knees, her thighs encountering the faint resistance of cloth when she moved, and it made her conscious not of the cloth, but of her knees and thighs.
She saw his mouth and the silent contempt in the shape of his mouth; the planes of his gaunt, hollow cheeks; the cold, pure brilliance of the eyes that had no trace of pity. She knew it was the most beautiful face she would ever see, because it was the abstraction of strength made visible. She felt a convulsion of anger, of protest of resistance-and of pleasure. He stood looking up at her; it was not a glace, but an a act of ownership. She thought she must let her face give him the answer it deserved. But she was looking, instead, at the stone dust on his burned arms, the wet shirt slinging to his ribs, the lines of his long legs. She was thinking of those statues of men she had always sought...She saw him looking at her as if he knew that. She thought she had found an aim in life-a sudden, sweeping hatred for that man.
She felt anger, a satisfying anger because it was cold and certain. She felt also a desire to let her skin touch his; to let the length of her bare arms press against the length of his; just that; the desire went no further.

-The Fountainhead
By Ayn Rand

I think its pretty obvious that I feel the way that the above character does in the novel that we are currently reading in my English class. Funny think because out of anyone in that book, I hate her. Yesterday, we went to a neighboring congo and to be honest, I really liked it. I learned that people that are humble are nicer. I should be more humble. Plus my daddy did really good on his talk. There was one thing that really bothered me though. They got my dad's last name wrong and for those two hours, we were Mendez.

Here's the deal: MENDOZA!!!

Jackrabbit Street

This week I was talking to an old friend and I realized something that I had never thought of before. Since basically we teens make things "fashion", I realized that being teens going into adulthood makes us more aware of things. This thing, I wonder though, if its really something to be aware of or just mere fashion. Lately I think people take friendships for granted and friends no longer exist, just the thought of a friendship. We are not friends, we are acquaintances. In my personal opinion, this is dumb. because I'd think an acquiantance is someone that I have in class or that I've had like two very AMAZING conversations with. But that is not what I am here to write about. Before I get to what I am here for, I have to say that I've become cynical. I refuse to fall in the crowd and be mediocre but I can say one thing for sure; we are all selfish.

Ok now to my point. What I am about to say comes straight from the heart and is the truth and nothing but the truth.

I have very few FRIENDS. And I literally mean FRIENDS. Friend as in the way that Webster defines it: one attached to another by affection or esteem. But I'm here to talk about ONE very special and dear friend whose friendship I value like gold.

This friend I met three years ago. It was April and our convention had just finished. I was having a conversation when this group of kids (LOL) approached us. Two boys and a girl. The girl I thought was very pretty and I liked her purple dress. She seemed nice in a way that not a lot of people are and I liked her pleasantness. She wasn't there very long but I can remember this very well only because of the events that followed our encounter (which are irrelevant to this blog).

It took a year for us to hang out. We don't see each other often, but, what I think makes this friendship special is the reliance that we have on each other. This girl is not just beautiful, she has an incredibly unique personality and that is truly something that I admire. She is one of the few people that I look up to and can't wait till our next hangout. With tears in our eyes, we have gone through some really hard times and we have laughed our butts off to the dumbest things. Her strength as a woman has helped cheer up a lot of her girls and even me at times.

One time, I was reading something silly and it said something like " BFF, when we are old, we'll be chasing each other in the nursing home in our wheelchairs". Well if we get to that age, that will be us. There is so much I can learn from her because even if she doesn't know, she'll learn. No matter how sad this world gets, her smile is just like the hope for a better tomorrow. I KNOW this is my friend (and if you're gonna tell me we're acquaintances I'll personally drive to your house with a bat!!!)

My dear Abby Love. My friend at heart. My sister. My Love :P

Books don't teach everything, Neither does life.

I am not happy today. In fact, very lately I find myself thinking about stuff that makes me upset. The way I see things and analyze just about everything, has given me, literally, a stomach ache. I have not been able to go a single day without my stomach feeling gross and nervous. To be honest, it's very annoying, not because of the things I think about, but because of the effect that I imagine these things will have on my actions. There is one thing about me that I don't understand. It is am intriguing flaw and quality of my character that I question everyday; such a thing, is the thing that makes me wonder how ok is my sanity.

Today is one day, like many others, that I woke up, went to school, listened to an annoying lecture, fought my french class, read, kicked to Justin Beiber's I Just Need Somebody to Love, took a quiz, dissected a brain, filed some papers, took insult to one of my opinions, came home, checked my Facebook, read some stuff and now I'm up to this point. My anger. I really don't think that I have anger issues. I think I am very calm, in fact, I know I am patient. I'll admit however that when I lose it, its bad and I don't let go of it for a while. The thing is that I don't usually lose my head. There are ways, however, to make me lose it very, very fast. The latest of all is people's ignorance.

So like I said today, I took offense in one of my opinions, and this is what I came here to analyze. Sometimes, mostly lately, I look at a person and a voice inside my head goes, Who are you?, even though I've been knowing that person forever. Sometimes, its not forever, but I still think, Who are you? We've been studying the brain in anatomy and I have not stopped to be amazed by its capabilities( If I were to be a doctor, I'd be a neurologist).

Here's the way I see it.

Can anyone criticize the way another person feels or thinks?

Back in grammar school, they taught me that there are two ways to differentiate two things. Fact and opinion. Facts are supported by proof. Opinions aren't. So why must opinions be a matter of argument? The only things that are important in life are facts. Here are a few facts on life: We are born, we grow, we reproduce, we age, and we die. Everything else is just a matter of opinion; the way we are raised, the way we grow, the way one chooses to reproduce, what we do in life and what we make out of life. Why? Because everyone has a different opinion in the way that these things should be done. That is all an opinion is; a thought on what something should be.


Here's something else, this is about me. I don't consider myself to be super smart. I do however, acknowledge that I have a sense of intelligence. The way that I have acquired my intelligence is absolutely irrelevant. Why then, must I be judged by the latter? No one cares where we learned things as long as they are learned correctly. Forming my own opinions should not be a trivial matter. I admit that the way I think is neither wrong or right and it is not influenced by my knowledge. The way I think is just a reflection of FACTS. I'm very realistic and I say things how they are. Of course, I think before I say things. Thinking faster though, has been of my benefit. I am always thinking and I hate myself for it because I question a lot of things.I am an Interpersonal thinker. If I want things to go a certain way, I am the only product that can influence the result. Will it happen? I don't know. What does all this have to do with me being smart? Absolutely NOTHING! I am not smart because I read. I am smart because I listen and look for facts; even if the facts are hurtful.

My latest lesson in life that I, myself, am still trying to accept, is that the truth hurts but we have to accept it anyways. Nothing lasts forever, and that is just another fact.