For some strange reason i find it more comfortable and less awkward to look at someone’s ears then into their eyes.
Don’t get the wrong idea I don’t have some kind of fetish for ears or anything (but if you do it’s ok, do your thing).
I’ve noticed that my problem is starting to freak people out (well the ones that notice). They don’t call me any terrible names like “ear stalker” or “stupid ear lady”. They just do that “wtf is going on? And where is the quickest exit out of this conversation?!” face.
I just think its too personal to look someone in their eyes. I feel like I’m looking into someone’s life story as soon as I look in their eyes. I have no idea why I choose ears of all things (if you have a idea why tell me!). I think it might be because…I’m a weirdo who can’t just have a normal conversation with a human being.
Remember that part in Carrie when she gets covered in animal blood? That scene haunts me till this very day. For the people who haven’t seen the movie (go see it) it’s basically about a girl in high school who has telekinesis and a crazy religious mother. Carrie gets invited to prom by a very good looking guy. She agreed to go with him and they got voted as the prom king and queen. Right after Carrie was handed her beautiful flowers and in the midst of people cheering she was covered in in a bucket full of animal blood. My situation is oddly similar. I was asked to a dance by a very good looking loved by all guy. He was very tall, had a big smile, and was very funny (just the way I like ’em). He hung out with very popular probably soon to become ladies of the evening when they grow up, girls at school. That’s why it was so strange to me that even though we’ve never spoke to each other and I’m the complete opposite of the girls he would go out with that he wants to take me to a dance. I refused to believe that he would take a nerdy looking goof girl like me in public to a dance. So as soon as he asked my brain just screamed ‘IT’S A TRAP THEY’RE ALL GONNA LAUGH AT YOU’. So I said no thank you. Because of my low self esteem and that damn movie I’ll never know if he actually wanted take this nerdy looking awkward goof ball to a dance so she could finally feel comfortable In her own skin. I regret not taking that chance.
I know kids my age (people think) usually hang out at parties or dangerous places where they smoke the trees and drink adult apple juice. But not me…the party spot is the bathroom. Well it’s not really a “party” it just a nice quite place where I like to think and…write blogs. So it’s the opposite I guess. But I was never the “lets go out and party and make all the mistakes” type person.
I have the strongest feeling that you’re (the beautiful reader) is saying “hey this weirdo doesn’t have a life that sad poor girl”.Well I do, a pretty good one at that!. Sometimes I just need alone time. Sometimes, I need to go to a small room filled with the smell of oranges for some strange reason. I need to go to the quietest part of my house…which happens to be my bathroom at the moment.
I bet if I applied the same time and dedication I have toward
watching old Freaks & Geeks episodes and watching cat videos on the Internet to my school work I would be a genius.
I feel like I’m mental sometimes, my brain says “hey shawna, you know what’s a good idea? Studying for your chemistry test that’s going to be 155 questions and harder than anything you have ever faced in your life!”. But there’s always that part of my brain that says “lets listen to one more album, then watch one more video about a cat going up stairs and then after that you can finish debating about what came first the chicken or the egg over the Internet then you can study.”
Next thing you know, it’s 12:00am. I’m insanely tired and ready to finally put the computer down and sleep. While drifting off to beautiful relaxing sleep I forget that this whole time I’ve only thought about studying and never actually studied.
Writing is beautiful but difficult. More so the inspiration of it all. I honestly just try go out side because I heard that nature is like the mother of inspiration. But I end up trying to come off as really artsy and well educated about the world’s problems. I would look at a rock and try to connected it to diversity or look at a chewed up wad of gum and connected to women’s rights. Or even worse, I’ll write something that I think is the most amazing thing ever to be written by a human. But then realize everything is out of order, most the big well educated sounding words are spelled and used wrong, and while trying to write about something serious like drug abuse I go completely off topic and write about how someone should invent pizza tacos.
Anyways, by the end of the day I’m just sitting at a desk staring at a piece of paper that is as empty as a box of chocolates I purchased for myself on Valentines Day.
I honestly think I believe in fate because it reassures me that no matter what you do things will be ok. It’s all apart of this one amazing plan we’ve got going for us. Remember that time you puked in front of everyone? Yeah, that was totally suppose to happen. Even that time you shat your pants while riding that roller coaster. That crap led to bigger and better things for you (maybe not roller coasters but eh). To me fate doesn’t create limitations but instead makes life just a little easier to get through. When going through life maybe try to remember that you can never truly ruin your life it’s just a stepping stone to something better. It’s just another poop on a roller coaster.