Why do people succumb to anger?
It feels so easy to slip into its grasp. But at the same time, from a distance, it looks quite stupid. Aren't we overreacting? What's the point of hitting one another, yelling at one another, going to war with one another? Yet when are up close, immersed in anger, we feel nothing but blissful rage, if that makes sense. Sweet revenge empowers us. Makes us feel as if we are at the top of the world. Maybe it is a survival mechanism. But I sure wish it weren't.
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La plume sur le vent
Finally! Some time to myself!
I felt so happy after finishing Hiroshima. It was a great book; I'd recommend it to anyone interested in reading historical nonfiction. xD It may sound boring, but I love it.
Anyways, I was walking along after school with the Gal with the bleu umbrella. xD And guess what we saw? A feather in the wind!
It was so delicate, white, soft, and cuddly. I don't know how I felt that towards a feather, but I did. The feather was beautifully simple, yet small.
We watched it soar up, then stumble down to return once more to a point of exaltion. And then it fell. It was the only white in a bed of green grass and flowers.
Ever since 8th grade, I could relate my life to any random inanimate object I saw. I'd stand in the window on the second story of my house and just stare out at the street ahead.
The driveway in front of me was my life. I was maybe at the middle of the driveway, after starting out from the front doorstep of my house. I'd changed over the years, become more stubborn and foolish, the stupid teen I am today. But I didn't feel ready to get to the end of the driveway [end of high school]. I'd go to sleep, pressing the same question in my brain: Left or right? Left or right?
Another time for reflection that I usually had was in the switch from 3rd to 4th period. In walking from science to French, I'd always ponder the meaning of life. I'd always seem to settle that my purpose on Earth was to find out who I am.
When asked deep questions, I always had an answer in mind. I still do. But how can I learn when my brain's already full of stuff that I think is right? How will I ever find out what truth is?
Every teacher teaches us based on what they know. How do we know it's true? They may have a degree, being taught by someone else, who was taught by someone else, who was taught by someone else. After you go down the list of all the teachers in the world, who is at the top? Can their lessons be accepted as true? Where does their knowledge come from? What is knowledge anyways? Is it science, english, math? What are we supposed to be learning in life?
That's something I don't have an answer for. And if you have an answer, then your brain is funked up 'cause that question is not in the scope of any average human brain. It takes a realized soul to answer that question. I hope to answer it one day.
This entry is all over the place. So let me tell you a story now; it's a story of a kid who didn't want to grow up. Can you guess who it is?
Anyways, me, my bro, and my dad were coming back from a great tabla concert by our family friend's guru, Pandit Swapan Chaudhuri. He was phenomenal! His fingers made magic on the tabla, and although the concert was hours long, we all enjoyed it immensely. [http://www.swapanchaudhuri.com/]It was Hindustani, by the way. Great stuff.
He had a great personality. Playfully asking why his son got the better mike [he was also playing], he made us all laugh. It was worth the wait to see his concert, which was at the Hindu Temple in Sunnyvale. He went so fast, his fingers were a blur. But the sound was amazing.
I'm going off topic now, but before I forget I MUST talk about artists. Artists are wonderful, expressive beings and I love them for what they do. There are some who are just out there, have a nice voice, and that is all well. But there are some who live in their art. Pandit Swapan Chaudhuri is one, as is my own music teacher, Jayashree Aunty. I love their work and enjoy listening to them in their concerts. But my uncle pointed out something; real artists aren't there for the applause, they're there for the art itself. My teacher, in a concert, seemed unconcerned about the applause. She didn't smile or anything; she just kept singing. That's Jayashree Aunty for you. Always dedicated to music, willing to support many budding artists. I should really be practicing more...
BACK TO THE STORY!!!
We came back and were parked at Safeway. My dad and bro went, and I chose to stay back in the car, alone.
At the time, I had turned 13 and was surprisingly feeling more like a kid than ever. I didn't feel responsible or anything. I was a little bouncy ball of fluff.
I sat in silence for a while, looking around. And then I saw, in a car in front of me a scene that changed my outlook of life. It was a little girl, in the front seat with her mother. They would talk for a bit, I saw the girl laugh with her pearly whites showing.
And it hit me then. Why was I pretending to be a child? I could never go back to the infantile pleasures of childhood. I could never relive it. My life was a cassette that was rolling on, but couldn't be rewound. I wasn't a kid anymore. I was a teen and I'd have to accept it.
I did. But I never liked it. I'd be grumpy, have mood swings, be stupid and stubborn. I just want to be that kid again. I'd never question my parents. I'd be happy. I could talk to people without any awkward turtles. I could live that happy life again.
But did we get anything done in that life? Did we move forward at all? What was the point of running around, amusing ourselves? What are we supposed to be doing with our lives?
Okay. Now whatever you're doing, stop. Right now. Well, keep on reading and then stop. What good will that A you're trying to get in Bio do to you 20 years from now? Do you know why you're in school? Do you know that college isn't your life? Do you know that there is a life for you outside of school that isn't reliant on grades?
Think about that. It's really important that we all know that. Education is primarily for ensuring that people can do jobs to support the type of society we have today. That's it. School is not your life. Do not fall into that trap and find yourself overwhelmed. Take breaks and enjoy what you learn. Hakuna Matata. That's how I roll. So that's why I'm going to Pillsbury's concert in half an hour. CLASSICAL MUSIC! YAYAYAYAYY
Things i'm grateful for:
-Latin
-writing
-cooking
-art
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|
La plume sur le vent
Finally! Some time to myself!
I felt so happy after finishing Hiroshima. It was a great book; I'd recommend it to anyone interested in reading historical nonfiction. xD It may sound boring, but I love it.
Anyways, I was walking along after school with the Gal with the bleu umbrella. xD And guess what we saw? A feather in the wind!
It was so delicate, white, soft, and cuddly. I don't know how I felt that towards a feather, but I did. The feather was beautifully simple, yet small.
We watched it soar up, then stumble down to return once more to a point of exaltion. And then it fell. It was the only white in a bed of green grass and flowers.
Ever since 8th grade, I could relate my life to any random inanimate object I saw. I'd stand in the window on the second story of my house and just stare out at the street ahead.
The driveway in front of me was my life. I was maybe at the middle of the driveway, after starting out from the front doorstep of my house. I'd changed over the years, become more stubborn and foolish, the stupid teen I am today. But I didn't feel ready to get to the end of the driveway [end of high school]. I'd go to sleep, pressing the same question in my brain: Left or right? Left or right?
Another time for reflection that I usually had was in the switch from 3rd to 4th period. In walking from science to French, I'd always ponder the meaning of life. I'd always seem to settle that my purpose on Earth was to find out who I am.
When asked deep questions, I always had an answer in mind. I still do. But how can I learn when my brain's already full of stuff that I think is right? How will I ever find out what truth is?
Every teacher teaches us based on what they know. How do we know it's true? They may have a degree, being taught by someone else, who was taught by someone else, who was taught by someone else. After you go down the list of all the teachers in the world, who is at the top? Can their lessons be accepted as true? Where does their knowledge come from? What is knowledge anyways? Is it science, english, math? What are we supposed to be learning in life?
That's something I don't have an answer for. And if you have an answer, then your brain is funked up 'cause that question is not in the scope of any average human brain. It takes a realized soul to answer that question. I hope to answer it one day.
This entry is all over the place. So let me tell you a story now; it's a story of a kid who didn't want to grow up. Can you guess who it is?
Anyways, me, my bro, and my dad were coming back from a great tabla concert by our family friend's guru, Pandit Swapan Chaudhuri. He was phenomenal! His fingers made magic on the tabla, and although the concert was hours long, we all enjoyed it immensely. [http://www.swapanchaudhuri.com/]It was Hindustani, by the way. Great stuff.
He had a great personality. Playfully asking why his son got the better mike [he was also playing], he made us all laugh. It was worth the wait to see his concert, which was at the Hindu Temple in Sunnyvale. He went so fast, his fingers were a blur. But the sound was amazing.
I'm going off topic now, but before I forget I MUST talk about artists. Artists are wonderful, expressive beings and I love them for what they do. There are some who are just out there, have a nice voice, and that is all well. But there are some who live in their art. Pandit Swapan Chaudhuri is one, as is my own music teacher, Jayashree Aunty. I love their work and enjoy listening to them in their concerts. But my uncle pointed out something; real artists aren't there for the applause, they're there for the art itself. My teacher, in a concert, seemed unconcerned about the applause. She didn't smile or anything; she just kept singing. That's Jayashree Aunty for you. Always dedicated to music, willing to support many budding artists. I should really be practicing more...
BACK TO THE STORY!!!
We came back and were parked at Safeway. My dad and bro went, and I chose to stay back in the car, alone.
At the time, I had turned 13 and was surprisingly feeling more like a kid than ever. I didn't feel responsible or anything. I was a little bouncy ball of fluff.
I sat in silence for a while, looking around. And then I saw, in a car in front of me a scene that changed my outlook of life. It was a little girl, in the front seat with her mother. They would talk for a bit, I saw the girl laugh with her pearly whites showing.
And it hit me then. Why was I pretending to be a child? I could never go back to the infantile pleasures of childhood. I could never relive it. My life was a cassette that was rolling on, but couldn't be rewound. I wasn't a kid anymore. I was a teen and I'd have to accept it.
I did. But I never liked it. I'd be grumpy, have mood swings, be stupid and stubborn. I just want to be that kid again. I'd never question my parents. I'd be happy. I could talk to people without any awkward turtles. I could live that happy life again.
But did we get anything done in that life? Did we move forward at all? What was the point of running around, amusing ourselves? What are we supposed to be doing with our lives?
Okay. Now whatever you're doing, stop. Right now. Well, keep on reading and then stop. What good will that A you're trying to get in Bio do to you 20 years from now? Do you know why you're in school? Do you know that college isn't your life? Do you know that there is a life for you outside of school that isn't reliant on grades?
Think about that. It's really important that we all know that. Education is primarily for ensuring that people can do jobs to support the type of society we have today. That's it. School is not your life. Do not fall into that trap and find yourself overwhelmed. Take breaks and enjoy what you learn. Hakuna Matata. That's how I roll. So that's why I'm going to Pillsbury's concert in half an hour. CLASSICAL MUSIC! YAYAYAYAYY
Things i'm grateful for:
-Latin
-writing
-cooking
-art
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