Today during dinner we discussed the possibility of moving 1400 miles away from our home.
Well, it was more so my mother talking and my sister naively following everything she said, immediately forming an opinion despite knowing any details.
My mother found a job in Houston, Texas that would require her to move there for at least a year. She said there’s a great weather and sight-seeing, a fantastic Arts district and many performing arts schools— a transparent attempt at piquing my interest no doubt—, and a plethora of other things that could prove really beneficial to our family. While she talked, my mind raced through the prospect of new adventure, new possibilities, a chance to start anew.
But that’s what moving means— starting anew. I’ve moved around before, but most of it has been within the state…
I don’t know why I have this blog. I always get too emotional to continue recording my thoughts.
Amongst other things though, I feel selfish. My mother, a strong and courageous woman that has worked hard all her life, is seeking a new opportunity to further her career, and all I can do is selfishly think about myself— how I’ll never see my childhood friends; how I’ll have to transfer schools and if I get into an Arts one have a completely different curriculum, and if I don’t, heaven forbid, how my musical career will pretty much end before it can truly begin; how all of the opportunities I have yet to take advantage of would be lost.
Like I said, I really don’t know why I have this blog.
I’ll end for now.
I’ll sleep on my couch tonight.
Let’s face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren’t invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm goes off by going on. English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn’t a race at all). That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.
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I’m currently writing my Literary Analysis, and it is coming along pretty well, but I got sidetracked after getting food to fuel me on (and cure my throbbing temples)…
He said I was salty. Not the bad, sweaty, mildly disgusting, but the seasoned and peppered-just-right salty.
I can’t continue, I need to focus on my writing.
dont do drugs
OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU