Standards

I wrote this shortly after I was expelled from a school for missing 48 days of school even though half of those days were excused. I had a 3.1 GPA, which is more than some that attended every day.

The world around me has taught me itself that I don't need to live up to standards. Not by books, lessons, or the "history" I've learned about. Not by some children's story, about an outlandish character who made it to the finish line even though he was diverse. The world has taught me, by people's actions. By the lies fed to me, and in front of me. My entire life has been filled with, misconstrued, and made up of lies. I feel that so far I've solely spent it trying to figure out what is true. I'm sure many people, and philosophers, could agree with me when I say that the search for truth is never ending. But all in the same, for many, the search for truth has yet to begin.

 

This life is too short to worry about what constitutes being right by society's standard. It seems as though, that by the fact that I, and many others like myself, didn't finish high school, people and employers see me as being unfinished, unrefined. What they don't realize is that how I work in a classroom doesn't define anything about me. Not my intelligence, not my percieverance, not anything. It doesn't define how far I will succeed, it doesn't define my grasp on reality. I have been blinded by this society's mask. For a long while, I let one simple fact make me feel like there was no point in trying to be successful. 

 

 

In every moment of research upon religion, spirituality, I just feel myself needing some kind of guidance that I have never found in churches or in studying. I long for new places. I long to see and feel the conditions that other people live in. I've seen many, from the rich to the ghetto, but I haven't seen enough, I haven't helped in the slightest and THAT makes me feel unfinished. That is what makes me feel unrefined. Not a piece of paper informing McDonald's that I was properly brainwashed for 12 years.  I need to be a part of this world, not a robot in some fast food chain; I need to be set free. I need to become one with this world, let go of my fears, of everything that's been holding me captive and begin. I need to help. I need to feed into my will to give. 

 

My goals are very vague, but there. I want to travel and learn first hand what the world is like. I want to write about my expieriences. 

 

Some people have this huge fear of death as if death were the worst thing that could happen to you. Regardless, the way I see it, even if the worst comes, it isn't a reason to sit back and give up on living. Some people wish for death though, and have a standard complaint about life as if it being given to them were some type of curse. I'm not sure which I understand less, but I do know that death is something that is not meant to be glorified. And life is not meant to be taken, it is meant to be given, and shared. Explored. 

 

What if the only heaven there is, is one in which you create?

How did any physicial thing come to be? It was thought about, surely a lot, drawn out and created. If you don't create your world, it will not exist. Only the world you have been given, someone else's world exists to you until you have the will to change it. And only you can create the state in which you live in. 

It is your choice to live a happy life. It is a choice, whether you want to believe it or not. 

You can sit around wallowing in a lesser state, or you can choose to do something. 

I've let sickness and mental illness drive me into a hole in the warmth of my bed. I know what it is like. Don't ever think that no one will understand, or care. Though they may not know how to help you along exactly, people always care. You have to create your world, YOU have to create your happiness and that is as simple as opening those blinds or taking care of yourself. 

Taking care of yourself extends beyond the simple tasks of hygiene and health though, it is the things you tell yourself before you go to sleep. The things you tell yourself in general, and the way you see yourself. The way you hold yourself up. The way you portray yourself. It is also having the courage to speak up when something is wrong. That is what's really difficult.

 

It's much easier to fake a smile than explain how the epitome of your own disaster is spiraling around your head a million miles a minute, but easier usually falls hand and hand with less exert, less healthy.