June 27, 2012

Finding Nemo

     Last night I was talking to someone who lost his dad as a kid. He cried at Finding Nemo. I never did because as a kid I was sure that if I got lost, my dad would drop everything and come running. Now I'm not so sure. I guess he loves me, but it hurts when he keeps pushing me to be "better." As I teenage girl, I'm sure you can imagine this is not good for my confidence, so this blog post is to let that hurt out.
     As a kid I knew my dad loved me. I didn't really do anything extraordinary except mess up my room, but that was okay because I was a kid. Now I suppose my dad loves me. I have a 4.0 GPA and will probably be taking 3 college/AP classes my junior year. My room is still messy because I want to relax during summer and not bother with things that don't make me happy. Does that make me selfish? Lazy? It certainly doesn't make me a bad person.
     I think I'm just tired. Tired of trying to impress him so he'll tell me good job. I feel like his love is conditional- he loves me as long as I graduate high school, become a clean freak, and wake up before 12pm. I feel like it's all a waste, but that's just now.
     As much as I love my dad, my life is not his. My life is mine. I want to be happy. Right now I am not happy. I probably will be in a few minutes (hopefully) but I'm talking long-term. I want to be a happy, successful adult eventually and I feel like my dad is dead set against that happening.
     But for now I just want to be me.

June 23, 2012

My Sunburn is Peeling

     It's funny when you meet someone. You exchange names, smiles, and unsaid laughter at how funny or boringly normal the other person seems.
     Then you run into them again, and again, and maybe you undress them with your ears. You take apart their words, dissect their phrases into little chunks that hardly mean anything. You peel back another paper thin layer each time you listen, and it's thrilling to get closer, because they're taking you apart too.
     Next maybe you catch a scar on the surface and wonder what made the dent. Keep undressing away the exterior and you'll find out. Of course it's exciting. Taking off a front is exhilarating. You never know what you'll find under all the normalcy, and suddenly someone "boring" doesn't seem so plain anymore.
   No one is only their face value, or so I'm finding. Some faces are pretty than others, but eventually, like a sunburn, those peel and decay in time too. What else would a fungi do in its spare time?