Musings of a Young Mind

WARNING: THIS IS A LONG BLOG...READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

The below is a writing I found a couple nights ago. I think it's hilarious...apparently, I've always hated formal education, and it shows. So yea, here it is...enjoy. Try not to judge it too harshly...I mean I wasn't legal when I wrote it lol. Without further adieu...

High-school has got to be the single most traumatic event in the average human life(assuming the person doesn't suffer any devastating losses of family, finances, etc). 5 days, 6 hours of nothing but relentless pressure, paper work, and popularity contests.

I see high-school as one big rat race, and the yummy low-fat cheese is our diploma. You've got some mice who want to get to the cheese first aka your overachievers ( I fall into this category, sadly)..then you have your average mice, who are content to get to the cheese when they get there (hey it's not as if it's going anywhere). Of course you can't forget your morbid lil rats who lag behind complaining about how sorry their life is and how they wish they could escape their pointless society of mindless pop princess...these rats graduate out of sheer boredom or drop out. Lastly you have your defective rats, the ones with the diseases and handicaps that keep them last in the race. They are shunned by most of the other rats and tend to remain in a large solitary unit, eventually getting to the cheese or committing unneeded suicide. Either way, they're usually easily remembered at class reunions.

Whoever said, "that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger"...tell him to come and see me..I have a few choice words for him (and they involve a large metal bat). Not saying high-school is a complete waste; quite the opposite...lasting friendships are formed, house parties are crashed, and freshman are shoved into lockers. Ahh the good life, right? No, it's more the type of people you find in high-school, abrasive teachers, cliquey girls, wannabe boys..and the list goes on and on.

The high school years are supposed to be a time of self exploration and development a time for finding that niche and filling it, yet for many people..the opposite seems to occur. They become so obsessed with being trendy and having the freshest clothes and newest tims, that they lose some (if not all) of themselves to media and peer pressure. And yes we are ALL guilty of it at some point or another. The need to be accepted by those surrounding us is a normal human need, as normal as the need for food, water and shelter. Many go to great lengths to find acceptance and or approval in the blood-shot eyes of the people around them. This includes but is not limited to assimilation, self humiliation, and decomposition.

Wearing designer names (that most can't afford) just to look presentable in the eyes of others. At any one time, at least 3 trends can be found in any high school (in FHS right now: urban wear jackets{Rocawear, Babyphat, Enyce}, shiny gold sparkly belts, and track jackets) circulating through the students. Always buying the newest electronics just to be known as the "It" guy/girl on campus. It's a constant race to "keep up with the Jones"...unnecessary but a part of high school subculture nonetheless.

Then there is self-humiliation..making an idiot of ones' self just to see goofy grins and receive pats on the back from "friends". Falling classes to look "good" and "cool", being disrespectful to teachers in order to maintain your "rep"...sickening. The guys who go into the bathroom and smoke weed until they smell like an incense shop (dead giveaway). It's as though everything parents have taught is thrown right out the window and replaced by lessons from Johnny Knoxville.

And onto decomposition, interesting choice of words, no? The decomposition I refer to is the rotting and erosion of one's spirit...that thing that stands out and makes Billy different from Bradley and Ashley different from Angie. High school and it's pressures (outside the regular smoking ,drinking, sex) seem to strip people of their spark. Their luster for life, which leads me to understand how so many students could commit suicide while in their academic years. I admit that at times I am so worn out from term papers, algebraic equations and the population density in Kenya, that I want to curl into the fetal position and cry until my tear ducts run dry (that or my mom calls me for dinner, whichever comes first). But then I ask myself (or rather my friends and mom ask me), "Is it worth it?" At the end of the day is a grade worth your mental stability. The answer: no.

So I suppose in the end, we must all just take it one day at a time, don't try to do too much, and don't try to get by on too little(or barely enough). Find your happy medium and work with it. Don't lose yourself in the frustrating and sometimes dangerous pathways, make your own trail, for others to follow in. Remember, there is life beyond high-school(as amazing as that seems, where no one will care if you were prom queen or voted "Most Likely to Succeed", or who you dated(or didn't). And we shall all get to that big college dorm room in the sky and hear the sweet words we've all waited so long to hear,

"TOGA PARTY AT MATT'S. BRING YOUR OWN BOOZE"

~Sarah

Oh NO, he didn't...

As I am writing this I am speaking with a new buddy of mine, about a topic one should never, EVER discuss with a member of the male gender. The topic of "Female Beauty". Let me say that again so that it can sink in. I was speaking to a person without the ability to give birth about his perceptions of female beauty.

Yea, I sounds like a bad idea to me as well. But nevertheless, I indulged my new acquaintance. To be fair, I will state that my friend is of African heritage and his culture still values many traditional ideals and ideals that are far removed from those valued here in American culture. With that being said...I completely disagreed with almost everything he said.

Now, I rarely take the opinions of the male gender into account when forming my own views of feminine beauty, but I will listen with open ears. It seems impossible to me that someone who is not a woman, would try to construct an (often confining) view of what a woman should be.

So this guy tells me that he he prefers women with natural hair (not unprocessed hair but rather without any extensions). Anyone who knows me, knows that this is a touchy subject for me. I consider myself very well read and knowledgeable as to the hair of African-American women (though by far we are not the only ones weaving it up). He tells me that he believes a woman's hair to be her crowning glory (which I agree with). So is he then trying to say that having extensions, weaves, what-have-you in your hair is...not beautiful?

I definitely loves myself some extra hair...braids. weaves, buns...it doesn't matter. So I am very pro creative hair. I consider myself and other women no less beautiful because we desire length, volume or protection for our hair (which we achieve through the use of extensions). Seeing as my friend is damn near bald..again, his argument holds no water.

Personally, I've always felt that women should be free to be creative. It is the visually stunning choices we make, which brand as as women...new age women to be exact. I mean if we went around looking all plain and boring (and without hair, might I add)..there would be another name for us...MEN!

A Living Legend

Two weeks ago, I got to embark on an experience of a lifetime. I met a celebrity..or at least saw one. No, it wasn't Justin Timberlake or Madonna (though, either of them would have excited me). I met a legend, someone whose life has impacted millions, whose words have inspired countries, and whose legacy shall not be soon forgotten. She is a famed activist, poem, scholar, and spokesperson. Can you guess who I saw?

Miss Maya Angelou. Excuse me, the famed Dr. Maya Angelou.

Yes..and you can not imagine what a surreal joy it was. There I was, sitting with a couple hundred people in a crowded auditorium on Ohio State's campus staring up at one of the most influential people...ever. Dr. Angelou was seated during her speech, shrinking her six foot frame to that of a woman half her size. She looked frail and tired due to her senior age and bouts of sickness. But when she spoke...man-oh-man! Her voice was so robust and full of life.

She began by telling the audience how she had longed to come to Ohio (ha!), she then recited some poetry I hadn't heard before and recounted some of the highlights of her life. Listening to her speak, was like being a bee drawn to honey...you couldn't look away (nor did you want t0). Her lyrical voice held you in rapture, whether she was laughing discussing being called "ugly" or recounting painful childhood memories. I sat there thinking, "This woman...this woman...she is the real deal." Being in the prescence of greatness, can be an amazingly wonderful thing.

The most powerful message, I took away from the speech was one of immense hope. Dr. Angelou told us to, "Not let anyone stand in the way of your liberation." She encouraged us to read more, take things to memory and to forge ahead in whatever ventures we would like. She spoke of a "If-he-can-I-could' mentally; telling us that great men have accomplished great things..and none of them are any greater than we could be.

Sadly, we as an audience, were made all too aware of Ms. Maya's declining health. She wore what appeared to be a brace on her arm. She would forget where she was in her speech and pause and stray to another subject. She did not stay to sign autographs or take pictures. The overrall length of the speech was shorter than I had hoped. Nevertheless, it was a lecture I wouldn't have missed for the world.

To be a light for yourself, is to be a light for others...and Dr. Angelou knows more about that than most. After listening to her, I was encouraged that I will indeed find some direction in this sordid thing we call life. Until then, I should continue to build my wealth of knowledge and continue to attempt to be, "a rainbow in somebody's cloud". Thank you Dr. Maya Angelou, for being a rainbow in my cloud that cold February day.

To Be or Not to BE...

For me, the above isn't the true question. For me the better question is...how and how soon. It occurred to me as I was dancing around my apartment (like a bonafide maniac) to Shakira's ridicoulously infectious, "La Tortura", that I am 20 and haven't accomplished shit-excuse my french.

Not diddly squat.

Now, I know many people would consider 20 a bit young and just on the cusp of life. I...DO...NOT. Plenty of 20-year old music moguls, international fashion models, and CEO's of companies can be find all over the world. Apparently, 20 is the new 30...at least in my world. Yes, I know I am impatient and I shouldn't judge myself by anyone else's success...but how can I not?

Everyone does, conciously or unconciously. Take a moment and think about it. We look at Oprah and Donald Trump, or Lebron James and we think..."I'd like to be like that girl/guy. I'd like to accomplish as much as he/she has accomplished. Or at the very least we say to ourselves, "Whoo...I'd like to be as rich as that mutha******".

Here is a PARTIAL list of things, I'd like to accomplish before I die:

• Learn to Salsa/Ballroom Dance


• Go Skydiving


• Learn to cook rice(I'm really bad at it)


• Publish at least two books


• Be featured in 3 major motion pictures


• Obtain one degree from an accredited institution of higher learning


• Have a piece of clothing named after me(preferrably a nice stilletto).


• Write one children's book


• Learn to professionally drive a race car


• Become skilled martial artist


• Open a "half-way house" for recovering alcoholics


• Have my own website


• Be CEO of a non-profit(maybe) organization


• Do volunteer work in two 3rd world countries.


• Travel to Japan, Italy, Ireland, and Dubai


• Research my geneology and visit the country of my ethnic origin

So yea, considering the fact that no one knows when their expiration date will be. I think I need to get started. I've got some diverse and compicated tasks ahead of me. And 20 years old is as good a time to start as any, wouldn't you agree?