I've been thinking a lot about ninth grade lately--like, a lot. I think part of it is the fact that I'm going to be a senior next year, but I think the biggest part is that, with me being in concert choir, I'm seeing all these seniors getting ready to graduate and experiencing some of their emotions while we practice the songs we'll be singing at graduation.
Or, at least, that's what I tell myself.
In reality, I'm not experiencing their emotions at all. They're completely and one hundred percent my own. In choir, we're singing a song entitled "Thankful," which we sang the first verse and chorus of at the ninth grade assembly on the last day of school for the ninth graders. When I heard that we would be singing it, I was rather excited. Now? Well, I still love singing it, but I get teary-eyed every time we do.
I keep saying that it's just because I'm going to miss my senior friends, or that it's because I'm going to be a senior next year. But those are only a couple of my tears.
In all honesty, it's because I'm missing junior high again. Some nights, I just lie in bed, thinking about those different memories over and over again. They make me happy, which is a significant change from last year, when I would be reduced to tears sometimes over a journal entry of something fun that happened. But they also make me sad. Again.
It's frustrating because I'd gotten over it. I daresay that I had just gotten over it. This feeling of being at peace with high school and moving on from junior high is relatively new. And it stuck for a few months. I honestly and truly thought that it was behind me, and I'd never cry about it again.
Now look at me. It's like reliving the first half of last year all over again, except within the space of three weeks. It doesn't hurt as much though--I will admit that. And thank heavens too. But it still hurts nonetheless.
And I know, deep inside, that I'm going to do the exact same thing at the end of next year. It might even be on a bigger scale.
I can't remember the last time I've dreaded something more.
I do not want to feel like that ever again. Never again for the rest of my life. For the life of me, I can't figure out why it was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I moved on from junior high; so what? Yeah, I loved junior high, but I didn't realize how much I did until ninth grade, which was the last year. Whatever it was, the sick feelings of misery spread gradually like a poison for most of that year.
But I ignored it. I forced myself, after the first couple weeks, to not think about it. It was hard sometimes, but I did anything and everything I could to distract myself. I dragged it out as much as I could, squeezing every last drop out of the year. I wrote down all of the fun things that happened. I relived every fun moment I could over and over again in my head. I never took any of it for granted.
And it was not enough.
At the ninth grade assembly, I cried a lot. And while we sang that little bit of "Thankful," I was crying so much I couldn't sing for a few lines. (But I composed myself enough for when we switched to "We Are the World" and my solo.)
The point is, I'm already reliving it, and I have absolutely no reason to. Well, maybe I do. Given the chance, I'd still go back to junior high, but only if it was the way it was when I left.
But, then again, I'm pretty sure that next year will essentially be ninth grade on steroids. I'm on seminary council, I made Madrigals, I'll be taking Italian 1 (I've wanted to learn Italian for a long time), and so many other amazing things are going to be happening next year, I can barely contain how excited I am. It's like all my dreams are coming true.
That's probably going to make it harder, but so help me, I will not feel that emptiness and misery again. I refuse to let my emotions overwhelm me again. I have not suffered and learned and prayed and cried and believed and healed only to have the same exact stupid thing happen to me again. I've grown too strong for that.
This could also potentially be my last blog of the school year...not sure yet. So if it is, this is Odessa Taylor, signing off and wishing you the best that life can give you.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
Friday, May 5, 2017
Late Night Thoughts
Do you ever get the craziest urge to write? And then, as you're sitting there, fingers eagerly twitching in anticipation, you can't think of anything you want to write about?
This happens to me all the time.
It's almost like wanting to eat, but not knowing what to eat. Nothing sounds good.
It drives me absolutely nuts.
Like, I want to write. Badly. My fingers sometimes are literally itching because they want to type or write so badly. But nothing. Absolutely nothing. My mind just looks blankly at my fingers, trying to understand why they're doing a weird dance on the keyboard.
It hits me especially strong after 10:30 at night, which is a good time for inspiration for me, but absolutely terrible for writing during the school year, even on the weekends, because I'm rather tired, thus making my brain move rather sluggishly. Not to mention most of my thoughts are completely aimless and random the later it gets, and there's usually nothing worth writing about for longer than two minutes.
I think it's interesting that I work so much better at night. Of course, it makes sense. That's just my personality. However, I struggle doing homework at night, and I think it's partly because night is my time to have fun and think in ways that I enjoy--not my time to think about math or history.
I mean, this is easy to write about. It doesn't require too much thought. It's just something to write that doesn't overwork my tired brain while still giving my fingers that satisfaction of pushing down each key. (Look, I'm trying to give my brain a break, I took the AP U.S. history test today). It's also something that I like to write about, which is writing. And no, I don't think that's paradoxical at all.
I haven't had a really creative idea in a long time. When I get a creative idea--an actual creative idea with a lot of potential--my stomach hurts, or right below it does. Like, real, physical pain. It's so weird. But that's how I know I've come up with a good idea.
It's been a long time since I've felt real pain from an idea. Maybe the occasional tightening, but no pain. It makes me a little bit sad because there was a time in my life when it was a noticeable occurrence. I wouldn't say it was regular, but it was definitely not rare. That must've been two years ago. I didn't even realize how long it's been until I thought about the last really creative idea I've had. Yeah, it was not recent.
Maybe that's a sign. Maybe it's my mind's way of telling me that I've finished preparing myself, and now it's time for me to just go ahead and write. Maybe once I finally empty my head of the previous ideas and put them on paper, there'll be room for more ideas to grow.
Only one way to find out, eh?
As much as I love you all (I'm fully aware that no one reads this, but whatever, I don't care), I will not be publishing my creative writings on my blog. Those will be typed on my other computer--the one downstairs in my room that's technically a laptop but still needs to be plugged into a wall and sounds like a rocket about to launch when I turn it on. I'm pretty sure it's from the 90's at the latest. The Microsoft Word application is so old. But I like it. It's basic--nothing terribly elaborate. Really, there's nothing elaborate.
Wow. This blog has jumped from, like, three different topics. Oh well. I did warn you that my brain doesn't work right after 10:30 at night.
And in case you were wondering, it is currently 11:44pm.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
This happens to me all the time.
It's almost like wanting to eat, but not knowing what to eat. Nothing sounds good.
It drives me absolutely nuts.
Like, I want to write. Badly. My fingers sometimes are literally itching because they want to type or write so badly. But nothing. Absolutely nothing. My mind just looks blankly at my fingers, trying to understand why they're doing a weird dance on the keyboard.
It hits me especially strong after 10:30 at night, which is a good time for inspiration for me, but absolutely terrible for writing during the school year, even on the weekends, because I'm rather tired, thus making my brain move rather sluggishly. Not to mention most of my thoughts are completely aimless and random the later it gets, and there's usually nothing worth writing about for longer than two minutes.
I think it's interesting that I work so much better at night. Of course, it makes sense. That's just my personality. However, I struggle doing homework at night, and I think it's partly because night is my time to have fun and think in ways that I enjoy--not my time to think about math or history.
I mean, this is easy to write about. It doesn't require too much thought. It's just something to write that doesn't overwork my tired brain while still giving my fingers that satisfaction of pushing down each key. (Look, I'm trying to give my brain a break, I took the AP U.S. history test today). It's also something that I like to write about, which is writing. And no, I don't think that's paradoxical at all.
I haven't had a really creative idea in a long time. When I get a creative idea--an actual creative idea with a lot of potential--my stomach hurts, or right below it does. Like, real, physical pain. It's so weird. But that's how I know I've come up with a good idea.
It's been a long time since I've felt real pain from an idea. Maybe the occasional tightening, but no pain. It makes me a little bit sad because there was a time in my life when it was a noticeable occurrence. I wouldn't say it was regular, but it was definitely not rare. That must've been two years ago. I didn't even realize how long it's been until I thought about the last really creative idea I've had. Yeah, it was not recent.
Maybe that's a sign. Maybe it's my mind's way of telling me that I've finished preparing myself, and now it's time for me to just go ahead and write. Maybe once I finally empty my head of the previous ideas and put them on paper, there'll be room for more ideas to grow.
Only one way to find out, eh?
As much as I love you all (I'm fully aware that no one reads this, but whatever, I don't care), I will not be publishing my creative writings on my blog. Those will be typed on my other computer--the one downstairs in my room that's technically a laptop but still needs to be plugged into a wall and sounds like a rocket about to launch when I turn it on. I'm pretty sure it's from the 90's at the latest. The Microsoft Word application is so old. But I like it. It's basic--nothing terribly elaborate. Really, there's nothing elaborate.
Wow. This blog has jumped from, like, three different topics. Oh well. I did warn you that my brain doesn't work right after 10:30 at night.
And in case you were wondering, it is currently 11:44pm.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)