school

Sorry, guys. I haven’t had much time to think.

Okay, that’s a lie.

I’ve finally gotten myself to try in school. I had no idea that trying was this easy. If I had known how easy this was, I would have tried years ago.

But no. It looks as if I’m going to have near a 4.0 for my entire senior year, when it doesn’t even matter. Stupid me.

Reflection for my classes:

Orchestra: orchestra.

Stats: Not really what I’d call “math.” It’s identifying charts, graphs, tables etc by their types and making some of our own. But honestly, I’m really glad it’s not very hard.

Government: The teacher is really chill, which is pretty awesome, and the classwork is super easy. My teacher is the one who teaches all the other teachers what to teach and how to grade the AP test. Hence: Oh yeah.

Music Theory: The workload is a buttload, and the concepts are difficult to grasp, but it’s a fun yet tiny class. Go Mr. Steves.

English: I dislike this class. The teacher is a numbnut and some of the people in the class shouldn’t be in it.

Java: Fun? I guess. It’s kind of hard to understand the concepts in this class, too.

Of my six classes, five are AP (can you guess which one isn’t?). Of my five teachers, three of them are male. I’ve had two of them before, and I’m trying to befriend all of my male teachers so they don’t see me as one of those “f— school” types.

But hey, this is pretty easy. The latest I’ve worked until is around 5. With distractions. I think I could have been done around 4. An hour and a half of homework max.

Fun stuff.

Crap. College apps.

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Finally, something that’s not depressing.

Just kidding.
Do you know why I only post about depressing stuff? Because that’s all I see. Rather, it’s the only way I react to what I see. So I think the world is going downhill because there is reason for me to believe that it’s true.

Though on a happier note, I’m going through lifestyle change. Sleep at ten, wake at six. Poop in the morning, eat three square meals a day; same time every day.
All because I want to dream lucidly.
I’ve noticed that I can only motivate myself. I won’t do things unless I want to.
Speaking of which, I’ve started trying in school this year. A bit late, right. But whatever. At least I’m trying.

life

Life is great! Yeah! Whoopee!

I can’t wait to get back into the world and just meet new people!! There are so many people that I just love talking to, it makes me so happy!

Sometimes I wish I didn’t know some people just so I could meet them again and get to know them better again!

Life is so fun! I’m doing really well in school and I have a 4.0 and I love all of my classes and everybody in my classes!

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

I

I realize that I’ve already posted once today but I don’t care.

I would like to announce that the entirety of what I want to say can be realized when one reads the titles of my previous posts in reverse chronological order.

Have a nice day.

really

Why do we feel the need to exaggerate so much?

“Dude, I swear, he must have said that like, a hundred times.”

While this may actually be plausible, there are times when exaggeration is completely unnecessary and annoying at the very least.

So here, I ask again: why do we feel the need to exaggerate so much?

It’s because of the shock factor. It makes sense. Think about it.

The more shock you give someone (without sounding totally ridiculous), the more attention you will get from them. And once you get that attention, you feel that warm, fuzzy feeling inside of being listened to and having a voice in someone’s day.

And then you turn around and the person you just talked to tells your story, only he exaggerates it more.

Next thing you know, your story is now completely false. What turned from you saving your neighbor’s cat from a tree turns to you fighting hyenas in the African Bush on your way to rescue some dame that nobody’s ever heard of.

And then rumors start. “he lost his leg. The one he has is prosthetic.”

And then you disappear for more shock factor. “My dad…”

Hm.

Maybe I’m just exaggerating for shock factor.

Who knows?