Writing

Writing about life and the mishaps in it.

[alexandross3]

“Friends. A mutual agreement with a lot of risks.”

[alexandross3]

What Are You Doing?

Would you be ready when you die?

If you are lucky, you can say goodbye

There is no why

All people do is cry,

Pray to the sky,

But why do they not try to buy more time

Or try to make things right?

People die every minute

While you are just sittin’ at a desk

As you try to pass every test

Will you past the test?

But what about life?

Life is a test, harder than the rest

Challenges everyday

Challenges in every way

Will you go up and say what you want to say

Or wait, day by day

‘Till you die?

I am not going to stand by my life

I am going to live my life

Because I have a life I wanna live

I am still alive

And will survive

[alexandross3]

“Remember when you were told

That your words are made of gold”

Not anymore. The words I hear are, “Why do you talk so much.” What about you?

[alexandross3]

School and Choosing

I apologize in advance for rambling.

Elementary school, you were asked the question: “Who do you want to be when you grow up?” At that age, you are charged with wonder and dreams or just confusion and randomly picking. “Do well in school” was also another saying. Middle school, they tell you to do more advance classes because “you will regret it in the future if you don’t”. While I do not know what others school are like, I ask for forgiveness if this is not what you think. This is purely through my own understanding of schools and my own future. In middle school, or junior high if you so wish to call it that, is when, typically, puberty starts. It happens first, not in the body, but the mind. You would be puzzled at the world around you. Or, at the very least, that is what happened to me. I think too much. And with these “great advance classes” and a mind that thinks with a new voice, there is only one thing you will gain: Stress. Maybe you will even become depressed. In my eighth grade year, I was proposed to pick my career. When I was thirteen, fourteen for some, I was asked to select from the various choices my own future. What if none of them suited me? “Go ask your counselor.” What will that solve? You force us to pick when we are barely able to comprehend our feelings? What if we are not ready? I know I’m not. I am still in high school, searching hopelessly through the sea of choices. None of them is ‘me’. Will the government give us time to think about it? No. We are unable to. Instead, we spend weeks on studying for tests and the breaks are used to relax our minds before we get too insane. Summer (it is different in Asia and just basically anywhere else, but the United Sates. Once more, I could be wrong) is the only time we get time for ourselves, but even then, those days are filled with school books we are required to read or part-time jobs. It is no wonder suicide is high. School takes away our freedom, but wait! What is freedom? Able to run around and kill anyone you please? No. There are always rules. Always order. Are you satisfied with this?

[alexandross3]

Maybe. Should be? Can be? Should not be? It may be, so go and make it be.

[alexandross3]

Burn Brighter, Die Sooner

There was always the question of “Why do the good people always die?” I could understand where they are coming from. The “good” people always seems to sacrifice themselves one time or another, but this post is not about that. It is about the ill people who norminally just stays in the hospital. Even in shows or books, those people tend to be so happy and bright and almost ready to die. They have already done so much, or, at least, done what they could do, and they were pleased with the life they would leave behind. “The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long.” Those group of people spread whatever joy they have in their body towards others, but in the end, they know their time is limited.

[alexandross3]

Weather

Today, I had thought of something very... let’s say, thought-provoking. The weather. From raining to sunny, from windy to hailing, it could go in many different ways. In movies, there had always been some ironic rain with [a] death(s). It is there to convey that it is not merry or cheerful. That is the same in someone’s feelings. They (weather reporters in the example), anyone, can try to understand what a person is feeling (what would the weather be like?), but no one can be a hundred percent sure. It is impossible. The clouds would move around through the sky, just like the thoughts would in a persons head before deciding on how to react to a situation or just continue to ponder on a subject. This whole text was most likely confusing and not understandable, but if you did, what do you think?

[alexandross3]

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving, for some odd reason, is a holiday. I wonder what orphans do when they do not have a family to be with. Every person should be thankful for something. It is literally in the name. What are you thankful for? I feel as if people see more of the food side than the thanking side.

[alexandross3]

Who

Who am I? I have pondered about this question for ages. Just a friend? Just a writer? Just a human being, uncapable to grasp the true meaning of life? “Just be yourself.” What if I don’t have ‘myself’ to be me? I have never been my own person. Instead, I have been stuck between what people want and what I want. That is... until I don’t even know what I want.

[alexandross3]

Home

A classmate had asked me if I was happy to go home. She was relieved when she realized that school finally ended. What had I respond with? I would just go home, stay shut in my room, and remain there until dinner. “I don’t want to know what you do after school. I asked if you are happy to go home.” She stated, but I was aware of what she said. I have a brother that would be there, entertaining himself with technology and my parents out working. I would be alone, trapped in my own mind. Where is ‘home’?

[alexandross3]

alexandross3: Allow me introduce myself, I am Alexandros. I have been troubled these past couple days and wish to write it down somewhere. Perhaps someone could relate to me.