Ch-ch-ch-CHANGING

I've neglected you again, I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better I'm writing this while I watch Scooby Doo, and I don't multitask while Scooby is on, so that says a lot. I actually had written a full blog earlier in the week on my phone and forgot to save it. I was a little upset that i lost it and not in the mood to redo it... But let's just jump right into something new instead of wallowing over that rubbish.

I never know how to feel about changes. And there are so many changes coming my way. With high school coming to the end, and things with everybody already being so different, EVERYTHING is going to change. I have two outlooks on these transformations, the same two outlooks I have on any kind of change no matter how small.

Naturally, I'm a creature of habit and I don't like change. Especially when people are ALWAYS making changes. To me, it's like no one can just be happy with who they are and what they've got. People are always searching for more than they need. For example, after I graduate my parents plan to leave my hometown and move elsewhere. It irks me to think about it though. You may not get it, but let me explain that I have moved from house to house way too many times in my short life. I've lived in some crappy places and had some crappy times. And before now I've always been okay with moving because it was always the only thing that made sense. However, now we are finally in a livable house. It finally feels like a home. A lot of those previous house were "temporary houses" and we wouldn't stick around for long. But this house was suppose to be it for a long time. This was suppose to be the house I come back to when I come home from college. We've only lived here for a bit over 2 years and they want to leave again. They includes my mom, sister, and brother. They are once again unhappy. I don't think my mom ever stopped looking for new houses, she won't let herself be happy. And its annoying, that constant need to change. I'm happy. This is a happy place with happy memories, why crush that. It doesn't even make sense to move where they want, they would live so far from work, you know...
There are lots of other changes that irritate me, I'm just uncomfortable with them.

But I totally see and can agree with the other side of the spectrum of changes! This is the side I TRY to be most acquainted with. Changes are for improvement. And improvement of oneself is something that should be constant. I constantly want improvement. The way I'm leaving home for college, is me wanting change. As for my family, I understand that I can't be selfish. If they aren't happy here, they need to go. They need to do what makes them happy. My mom wants to be closer to her family. My sister wants away from the not so safe neighborhoods. My brother wants to go to high school somewhere where he won't be miserable. They just want to improve their life's and that is reasonable. Living here has been right for me, and we've stuck around so i wouldn't have to change schools a bunch, but it's not right here for them. I want everyone to do what makes them happy, it's their life. If you don't like the way you look, change it. If you aren't happy where you work, change it.... (I blame my contradictory self on me being a Gemini. I'm like a walking contradiction...) I myself am always trying to show others the different sides on issues, all to change their judgmental ways if not their viewpoints. In fact one of my goals is to in so way actually change the world. So change IS good, and I have to tell my natural state of mind that all the time.

I am excited about the changes that are coming into my life. I'm thrilled to start a new life in Austin and make new friends and just have SO many changes. Yet there is still this part of me that is trying to hold on and fight it. Not fight the going to college part, but fight the change in people I guess. I'm trying to do things with the people I'm used hanging out with, but I'm not having fun anymore. Its like I'm forcing myself to go and be around them, when really change is what i need. I'm ready for the change. My stubbornness of holding on is nothing compared to my excitement for the future. Change is needed. I think what bothers me is when people don't let themselves be happy because of something dumb. To me, you can't accomplish anything unless you're happy. Even if you aren't where you want to be, even if you are striving for change, I feel like you have to at least let yourself be happy...

Change is good. Do what makes YOU happy.

Taylors will be taylors

No, no, no. I did NOT FORGET to blog this week. It's just been all go go go this week for me! I've been actually doing work in class, and I've been running, and I've replaced my nap time with reading actual books! And if you know me, you know I value my naps like I value oxygen. But now I have nothing but time for you, my blog. I am on my way to Fort Worth for the livestock show. It's Abbey Road's first major show and I'm super excited. I'm all cozied down in the backseat of the car with my hair a hot mess, my iPod a playing, and my pillow pet under my arm, ready for this four hour journey. But none of you are interested in any of that. Or maybe you are, I really have no idea. Anyway. For a while now I've just been thinking about people.

Now. I've expressed before how I love people. And I've also expressed my frustration with them. But honestly, the only thing I can say about them, no matter what mood I'm in, is that people will be people. I always say that, at least to myself. It's the most true statement I can tell you. Boys will be boys. Girls will be girls. Parents will be parents. Bitches will be bitches. Kids will be kids. And there is no changing any of that. No matter what, people will be people. I'm not saying that people can't change and nothing about this post is to be taken in a negative sense because I'm a Positive Polly today. So people being people is a good thing! Not to stereotype ANYONE, but most girls will take a long time in he restroom and getting ready in the morning. And that's because girls will be girls. Most parents will be completely ridiculous around your friends and instead of being embarrassed, just shrug your shoulders and laugh because parents will be parents. It's just a part of life. And it's cool. Not that this is a controversial issue and you probably aren't disagreeing or having any reaction to my statement, but I think some people need to accept this about themselves and about society. And that's all i have to say about that.

This post is real jumpy today. But not very long, I don't think. It's harder to tell how long it is on my phone. But this weekend while I'm out of town I'm also doing a project. Other than than writing a research paper, reading a book for class and writing a paper on it, and doing a lab about soil, I'm going to take a project I got for photojournalism a step further then what was assigned. Should be fun. I'm not going to tell you what it is, but it has to do with colors. IF it turns out cool then check out my Tumblr next week. And if it doesn't then oh we'll... I'm going to try and post again early next week to get back on my blogging schedule. But for now I leave you with a picture of a bald eagle.


Well my pathetic version of one!
But what else is there to do on long road trips...

Dying for Love

What would you die for?
What loss would kill you?
What would you fight for?
What would you break the rules for?
But most importantly. What. Would. You. Die. For.

In English class, we've started studying romanticism and the romantic movement. The first thing I learned, before she even said the word romantic and while she was simply describing the concept, was that I am a romantic. I'm undoubtedly, an iconoclastic, hopelessly romantic person. Now, teacher lady is the one who pointed me out, I would never claim myself as one before hand. But the more in depth she described romanticism, the more I saw myself as a part of it. I am a romantic rebel. And as we read several poems and learn about this love rebellion, we are going to have to create our own romantic poems. The theme has to be based on at least one of those questions in the introduction above. And the only one I can focus on is "what would I die for?" Whoa. Die. As in, to cease living; no breathing, no heartbeat, nothing. That's is kind of a big deal, you know. And I haven't been able to get it out of my head.

The truth is, I do not have an answer. As much as I love to love, I can't answer the question. There have been situations in the past where I thought I would die for somebody I loved, but I was wrong. Or at least that feeling passed because it is no longer true today. You see. I believe in love, but I'm not in love. So. I'm blogging about this, instead of the other thing I had planned on writing about, because sometimes I come up with my own conclusions and fix my own problems just by writing these and getting everything in my mind out in physical words.

What would I die for? My cow is the only living thing that pops in my head, but... And then, there's something that comes to mind that has always been super important to me. Dying for what you believe in, dying fighting for those beliefs. But the problem is, what exactly do I believe in?
Equality.
Expressing yourself.
An open mind.
And as I already said, love.
Everything else I believe in someway relates to love. Even the other examples I just said all come back to love, at least for me they do... Like. I believe that money is worthless, it means nothing. I'd rather be poor and have a love than rich and alone. I get that we need money to eat and do others things living requires. But I don't care for money, maybe it's just because I'm young... I don't know. All I really want is love. Teacher lady (I'm referring to her as that because writing out Sydnor is annoying) said that if we write about love, it should be about a specific and life long love. None of which I have. (I don't get how I'm a loveless lover but oh well) But. How can I die for something I don't have. If I were attracted to the other questions, it'd be easy. I break rules all the time because I'm such a bad ass rebel (she jokes, she jokes.) But those questions don't seem real enough to me. I want to put passion into this, because for the first time this year I'm interested in what's going on in English. Usually, it's my favorite subject but my teacher has managed to bore it up and I haven't learned anything. But this. This is what I dream about. All day, everyday. A love so sublime I would die for. I cannot stop thinking about it. I'm not wanting to get super sappy and explain all my desires here. I don't want to mention how more than anything I want to be the Christian to my own Satine and pour my heart out to them, possibly in song. And how I would fight for and never give up on them... Or how Moulin Rouge scenes pop in my head whenever I think about love. Sorry....

Now. This is also not me being afraid to die. It will happen when it happens and I can only hope I'm living my life to the fullest until then. It's the thought of sacrificing my own life for something. It's an uncomfortable topic. I love life, and I love living. I don't know if there is anything I would willingly give my life for; dying by choice. I don't I have the heart to do that. I think I'm too selfish to do that. And maybe I'm being completely ridiculous and taking this way to seriously and should just write a damn poem about pizza or something. But I need to know this for myself. I'm trying to think of how to state this without it having the wrong, negative, connotation. Its like... You have to have something to live for. Some reason why you are who you are and do what you do. And that same reason you live, should be something you are willing to die for, get it? Dude... I'm way to attached to living to think about this. And I cannot think of something I would die for, for anything. Doesn't that make me not the romantic person I was earlier? I'm not sure, maybe. And now I'm running out of things on my mind and I'm trying not to babble, but I've yet to stumble on to a conclusion....

After thinking and and more about it as the day went by, Conclusion time: I would go to great risks to express myself. I would fight for love no matter what the consequence. I would break any damn rule to be happy and free. I would be lost without my individuality and love. But dying. There is something about using that word that freaks me out. But when it comes down to it, I guess there are things I'd die for. If I needed to express something or stand up for something or not let others oppress me, then I would accept death in those efforts. Maybe the problem is the way the question has been so strongly worded. It makes me feel like I would be taking a knife to my own chest for this something. Is it that serious? I hate to have talked so long about this all and not leave with an answer. It's a difficult thing for me to say. It's like I'm making a oath to die for this something as soon as the words leave my head. But. It's JUST an English project... I guess... I would die for freedom.. And I don't exactly mean in the going to war for my country way, with guns and camouflage.  I mean, I will fight anybody who stands in the way of my own personal freedom to be myself. This is broad and I've been thinking of how to set it up. Purposely I have made it like an umbrella so that under "Freedom" everything from self-expression to love is included. And that's that. I could talk about this forever but after me writing and thinking for soooo long, I've decided this is the best way to answer the question. I don't necessarily think this answer is good enough. But it's something I'll work with...


Now, What would YOU die for?

Let it Rain.

Do you ever just need to CRY?!

Your automatic answer should be, "Yes, Taylor! How did you know?"

Well. We all do. And I realized that just a bit ago...

Story time!
I was walking with a friend, named Francis. Not really, but Francis is slightly gender-neutral and therefore a good disguise for said friend... I don't like using names without their permission. And Francis is the only gender-neutral name I can think of.... Besides Taylor. Anyway, Francis and I were walking to walk and having a good ole talk while we walked. In some way Francis started telling me about this one time at camp... So. This one time at camp, Francis hadn't slept well for 5 days, and not at all for 2 of those days. Francis was tired. And when mother of Francis came and got *'em from the camp, for what seems like no reason at all, Francis started crying on the way home. And when the mom asked what was wrong, Francis could not answer in a way that made sense. A lot of "I'm just so happy to see you" and "Everybody was SO nice there" and "I miss home, but I'm going to miss camp!" And when Francis got home mommy-dearest sent 'em to bed, after so many hours woke 'em up and fed 'em soup, let 'em sleep for 12 more hours. And after listening to this story, I felt so... normal.

Let me tell you. I was the sensitive child growing up, and even though nobody realizes it now; I'm still a sensitive person. (Not nearly as much, because I was just dramatically over-emotional back then). I was the one who got my feelings hurt easily. The one my siblings would pick on, just because they know how easily they could make me cry. The one, that to this day, can't control that she tears up as soon as someone yells at her. Yup. That kid. Well, I was that kid around my family, but at school and everything I had to be the tough chick(for unrelated reasons)... So I knew how to hold my own. And I guess somewhere along the way, I found myself in this mind set that it is NEVER okay to cry. So, somehow, I blocked out my sensitivity completely, and didn't cry for 3 years. Worst 3 years of my life... When I heard Francis's story, I started laughing really hard. Not laughing at him/her, but the fact that the same EXACT thing has happened to me. The way mom handled it, the way I couldn't tell if I were happy or sad, the way I was SOOO tired that I just couldn't control it. The crying. I've had those nights when I'm just dirt-tired and any little thing (a song, somebody looking at me funny, etc.) would set off the water works. And my sister and brother have always made it seem like I'm the only one that happens to.. But Francis changed that.

When I finally cried after those years of boycotting it, it felt great. Crying after being relieved of sooo much stress, or even when full of stress, feels great. Sometimes, we just need to cry. Sometimes we don't need a reason.... I have learned that one of the worst things to do is pretend you are happy when you aren't, you know, plastering a fake smile. Though it is sometimes necessary to do so to make it though a situation, fake smiles should never be a constant mask. You have to let yourself cry, or do WHATEVER your form of crying is (to some people laughing has to be their equivalent to crying). Don't be that dramatic over-emotional kid like this girl was, but let yourself go sometimes.... Everyone has their days when they just need to cry.

Now. It seems to me like this post was sort of everywhere, I apologize. But I was running late on posting this and... well... It is what it is.
Have a great week!

*another attempt at being gender-neutral...