Not to quote the Bible or anything, but...

Ask, and you shall receive.



Life doesn't hand you opportunities, and when it seems like you are being given opportunities right and left- opportunities that just scream "here, I'm yours for the taking"... they never work out. When it feels like an opportunity was stolen from you by some goody-goody with a 4.0, impressive references and plenty of job experience, you have to step back and realize that it was not stolen, as it was never really yours to begin with. An opportunity isn't something that you are worthy of unless you have put in the man hours. The hours digging around for information, contacting random people at the risk of looking like a nut-job with no sense of how the process is supposed to work, the seemingly pointless jobs and networking, these are the things required to truly earn and deserve an opportunity.

And if this opportunity falls through, or is stolen away from me by another goody-goody with a 4.0, impressive references and plenty of job experience... Well, then my theory will be shot to hell, and it will likely mean I am destined to a life of mediocrity.


So really, is it me, or has the term "opportunity" acquired the elusive definition of a stroke of luck? To give someone an opportunity is to give them a chance... and if you're anything like me, you don't give someone a chance until they've done something to earn it. I think I'm done using the word "opportunity" for things that are not necessarily going to happen. I do not have an opportunity for something until the opportunity has actually been given to me.....


And at this point I realize that there's highly likely that none of this makes any sense, so I'm going to stop. Hey, it's finals week, and I can't even be sure of how many hours of sleep I've gotten since last Thursday, since none of it seems to be at night or at one time... so give me a break.

It seems like when you want something too much, it doesn't ever happen the way you'd really like it to. Likewise, your worst nightmares often transpire.

My thoughts are so scrambled these days. Forming sentences is a mind puzzle, and finding my way back to my apartment at the end of the day has been getting harder and harder.

I'm too young for my brain to be shutting down. I want my memory back, please.

It was kind of funny for a while... now it's kind of not.

It's sad that writing this post has taken 30 minutes, but maybe







I forgot what I was saying.
Crap.


Uhm.








Whatever, I'm done.

POV

Every time I get an idea for a creative writing, I can never decide which point of view to write in. My writing style is to start with a broad idea and see where it takes me... so how do I know if it will be more effective to write in first person or third?

I suppose first person comes more naturally.

Hm.

Every year around this time it always feels the same.

Retreating inside myself the longer we shut ourselves in away from the bitter cold wind.

I don't do well with walls. Or ceilings.

Especially these walls, these ceilings, and everything they represent to me.

I like winter. I love snow. I love when snowflakes get caught in my eyelashes or land on my nose.

I dislike this wind that brings tears to my eyes. I dislike the days when the sky doesn't look like the sky.

To be honest right now, the view out my window makes the buildings and trees look as if they are set against their own backdrop. Another wall. And it matches MY walls, the ones I hate so much.

Waking up with Lupus.

Lupus symptoms are flaring up again.
Woke up today and my joints were swollen and hot and achy. I couldn't even manage to wrap my fingers around my toothbrush or hairbrush. My head and neck were aching.. So I took some drugs and skipped my first class (an 8am).

Set an alarm for 9 so I could get ready for the rest of the day. My joints are still achy but at least I can move them now. Still have a slight headache and some swollen lymph nodes, and I may possibly throw up at any moment. I have a class at 10 that I really don't want to skip, though. I'm going to take the bus even though it would normally be faster to walk.

I look like what I imagine death's mistress to look like.

Oh well. We'll see how class goes while I'm tripped up on a plethora of medications.
It's probably not even worth going, but, I am.

I took a two month hiatus, but not much has changed.

After a record blizzard, my university cancelled classes for the first time since I was born. It's been a week now and I still help at least two people push their cars out of the parking lot each day.

Finals week is here, and since most of my professors are lazy and don't want to grade the tests themselves, I have all week to take 3 online finals. Which means I get my final test in procrastination.

I've barely begun to study, but I figure I'll get around to it eventually. Like usual. Until I am served a lesson from procrastination, I will continue to put in minimal effort to get average results. I'm okay with being average when it comes to school. No point in killing myself or going slightly insane just to do better than the rest in something that will have little to no impact on my life. I don't need to know organic chemistry and I don't care how hard you try to convince me otherwise.