Systems of My Life

Yesterday, after completing my daily evening jog, I laid down on the grass and thought about the systems that organize my life.

The government is a system. Right? That would probably be the most obvious one to point out.

Education is a system. You go to high school. Obtain remarkable academics, join numerous clubs, volunteer, join a sport; all so that you could get into a good college, right? And then once you get into a good college, you bust your ass even harder than you did in high school. Because right now, you’re working towards the real thing. You’re working towards your life. What you do in college will (for the most part, and with some qualified exceptions) determine the type of person you will be once you start living your own life.

So, you do great in college, then you get a good job. No, not a good job, let’s say, a high-paying job. This high-paying job is probably something you like to do, or maybe it’s something you absolutely despise. Does it matter? No. it’s ‘high-paying,’ not ‘much-liked.’ This job will give you tons of money. Money that will feed you, clothe you, put a roof over your head, and indulge you in materialistic luxuries. In other words, it feeds your shell. Not you. Your shell.

God, sometimes our bodies are so demanding, huh? At least mine is. “She wants caviar, designer clothes, a big house, a luxury car, the latest technology, et cetera, et cetera…” That’s not me wanting those. That’s my body. Or, at least that’s what I want myself to think, so that I won’t seem like a spoiled heiress.

Life isn’t supposed to be all that complicated. You live and you die. You lay on the grass and watch the sunlight filters through branches of autumn leaves. Sit on the swings, and listen to the infectious laughter of children. Watch grass grow, feel the warmth of the sunset upon your cheeks, appreciate the next day by simply enjoying being alive…The simple things we ought to do. The simple things we take for granted.

But, I suppose we aren’t primitive. Humanity isn’t as barbaric as it used to be. So, these systems that govern us, govern us with good intentions. We need them to do so anyways. Otherwise, we would be laying on a rough cavern floor, wondering where food is supposed to come from.

Sepia day

I’m tired of posting other people’s pictures, despite of their apparent beauty haha. So, I spent the evening taking pictures in sepia. And they will be posted, despite of their LACK of professionalism haha. But at least they’re genuine? :)

The Beach

I think the beach is the greatest teacher of all time. I mean, the memories you leave there; you can so easily reflect upon them, and learn the things that no one else could ever possibly teach you. Not your teachers, parents, nor your friends. It’s this pool, this cove that you can hide in, and let the stony walls tell your stories back to you. Each wave mothers your body, and envelopes you inside it. And then, once the waters settle its stormy disputes and cough you back up upon the shores, you lay there on the sand and feel half of the sun’s shine blanketing your body. The stories you leave lingering in the waters aren’t probably the greatest, but the beach is the greatest listener. The ocean gathers so many memories, sinking deep into murky depths.

One Phone Call

It left me there feeling lifeless on the couch. Staring at the ceiling, tilting my head back, in hopes that the tears would fall sideways and not smear the lining of my eyes. With my head propped up against the shoulder of the couch, I separated my soul from my shell. My grief, my exhaustion, my tears falling into the valley of my cheeks; I watched them gather and regroup, figuring out ways to mutilate my sanity. 

who knew that my mother would have the heart to do such a thing?