Archives for posts with tag: journal

I have made up my mind about my passion in life. It’s not materialistic, or an education that can buy me the life I dreamed of. 
All I want in life is to give back to it.
I am determined to go abroad to Thailand or Spain, Egypt or Israel, and teach children English and do volunteer work at hospitals or orphanages. Anywhere that needs help. I realize a MA degree or PHD won’t give me my dream, it just won’t. I need to be out there in the world making a change right now, instead of being in a classroom trying to set a goal of having a secure job.
Life is not about security, it’s about taking chances that put you on edge and sometimes make you dizzy. But in the end your heart is exhilarated. Your brain is functioning and is alive. And your heart also stays warm from touching peoples’ lives and being touched by theirs. 

Last night  found out that I may not be able to go back to school for my Senior year. My mother says she will do everything it takes to send me there this year, and some how I know we will make it happen even if we have to sell our house and live in a box. I wouldn’t care as much as I thought about leaving school behind, if only I didn’t need a BA to teach in a foreign country. So after this year if I get to finish school, I’ll be done with the idea of gradschool until I figure out the next chapters in my life.

It sounds cliche and corny, but you know when you feel like you were meant to do something purposeful and great with your life? That’s how I feel. If you’ve ever read the book The Alchemist, you’d understand this passion I think…maybe even without reading it you understand.
The book The Alchemist is simply written, and a good pace book. You can read it in a few hours. It’s not that it’s an easy read, it’s just that it’s simple in its story telling and good for you heart and finding out a meaning to life.

It’s funny that I had originally once as a little kid always wanted to be a mother, but then as I was in my teens I really did not want to be one…I didn’t want to get pregnant any more, I didn’t want to adopt any more…I just felt like I needed to figure myself out more. How could one day I be responsible for another life? I suppose I already am since I’ve been in a relationship and we are like love birds.
Well, matter of fact, I have changed yet again, just a few days ago I said I thought about it thoroughly and do not want children when I grow up, but here I am today realizing if I go across countries and work with young kids, I may just adopt one or some that I can’t live without. It’s so strange how life changes in the most oddest of moments, but these moments are spontaneous and they are beautiful!

Alright well here I am…..writing so much with excitement.
I guess I should finally open up to you more.

 I haven’t had the roughest life, but neither the easiest. I suppose you could say I’ve been privileged, considering there are poor and starving people in the world and children who can’t afford new clothes or a house. I think you could even say I took things for granted some times, you know those teen years where things fall apart and you think your life is over.
On top of that I’m a lesbian. I don’t exclude the idea of a male in my life in that romantic way, but I can’t see it at all happening. I love my girlfriend with all of my heart, and never have felt so intensely about any one. And trust me, even when I was 12 I thought I knew what love was, but I realize I knew what “that” kind of love was, but not the real love that I needed. And my girlfriend now is the love that I needed.
I came out of the closet as bisexual in 7th grade. I think it explained a lot.
I couldn’t say I was a lesbian because I didn’t know if I could ever have sex with a girl and feel comfortable, all I knew is that I had a strong infatuation with girls that  was not “normal.” 
I’m pretty regular and ordinary besides that fact that I’m a walking oxymoron of ironicness. Yes I know that isn’t even a word.
I have a good amount of friends that are males and I have female friends as well, straight, bisexual, and gay.
I grew up in a town that was overall accepting, although my parents, who are divorced, didn’t want to listen to me when I told them how I felt about my sexuality.

It wasn’t until freshman year at college that I came out as a full lesbian, even though I was still rather confused about it. My mother and I were in the car and she said that she “always knew.” I realize she always says she always knew to everything. She then said something funny, “I love you whether you like girls, guys, or animals.” And I screamed and laughed that I was not into bestiality.

Well that is all for now. 

Advertisements

Leave it on the door step. Maybe I’ll come back to it.

I think many people agree, that at some point we all realize we live in small towns where everyone knows everyone. And wouldn’t it be great if we could meet these people five or ten or twenty years later down the road? Because wouldn’t that be easier to accept them for who they have become, instead of thinking of how they were in the past? Sometimes looking at where I am now and turning my memory to the past, it makes me upset. If I had stayed in that small town and hadn’t traveled to other countries, I would never have found pieces of myself of who I am today, never would have experienced life to a fuller extent, or met some seriously amazing people. While certain people choose to go back to their past and stay close to where childhood was, I personally am into moving forward and leaving those who try to stunt my growth, behind.

Here is a post from my friend’s site that related to how I felt today.
I’m not sure if he wrote it or if he copied and pasted it as a chain, but I think you’d enjoy it if you’re in the same mood.

Lollipops turn into cigarettes.
The innocent ones turn into sluts.
Homework goes in the trash; mobile phones are being used in class.
Detention becomes suspension.
Soda becomes vodka; bikes become cars.
Panties turn into g-strings; underwear into boxers.
Remember when getting high meant swinging on the playground?
When protection meant wearing a helmet?
When the worst thing you could get from the opposite sex were cooties?
Dad’s shoulders were the highest place on Earth, and mom was your hero?
Your worse enemies were your siblings.
Race issues were about who ran the fastest.
War was only a card game.
The only drug you knew was cough medicine.
Wearing a skirt didn’t make you a slut.
Wanting to be a wrestler didn’t make you gay.
The only things that hurt you were grazed knees,
and goodbyes only meant until tomorrow?
And we couldn’t wait to grow up…