truth = beauty = maturity.
[ 2003-02-21 - 10:51 p.m.]

Tonight was pretty fun. Especially since I was pretty much assuming that my night would consist of sitting on my ass watching my over-due movies. Talk about massive late fees. Thats going to suck. I went and saw The Life of David Gale with Beth. It was a phenomonal movie. It made me want to get into a debate with someone. It was really great. The end was nothing that I figured it would be. It was the first movie I have seen that truly shocked the hell out of me. I highly recommend it.

"You know you're in the Bible belt when there are more churches than Starbucks."

Clarksville.

I did a lot of thinking today. I guess I've been getting pretty good at zoning out my teachers and focusing in on my own thoughts. I am starting to feel bad because I know that I am one of those students that is supposed to be "on task" and I'm supposed to "set an example". At least according to my teachers. Ha. If they only knew me. Then I doubt they'd want me to set an example. They'd probably put me in a desk tucked away in a corner.

Why is it that my whole life, people have always called me 'mature'? Its not that I mind it. I like it. I am just wondering. When I first moved into our house in Wakefield, I met Meaghan. She was 3 1/2 years older than me & she quickly became my best friend. It was okay for me to hang out with a 7 year old because according to her, I was "mature". Our friendship lasted a long, long time...because I was "mature". Then, when I was 11, I went and hung out with my cousin in CT. She was 16. I got to go out with her and her friends because I was "mature". The summer before 2nd grade, the guy who ran the daycare I went to thought I was going into 5th grade. He said I was "mature". The list goes on and on and on: Mrs. Bedell, Mrs. Slack, Mr. Brown, Mr. Dager, and so on. I don't know what I do to make people think I am mature. I don't think I am.

Yes, sometimes I admit, I probably think a lot deeper than a lot of kids in my class. But I am not sure if thats out of maturity or if its just the way my mind works.

See, a normal person would go into the Y to work out. While they're there, thats what they would do: work out. They'd watch the t.v. and talk to their friends. What do I do when I go to the Y? I watch people. I work out. But my main focus isn't on how much weight my legs can handle that day. It isn't on how many miles I can run. I have stopped trying to count my laps. I just watch people and wonder about them.

I just like to wonder why they are there? Are they trying to improve themselves or are they trying to improve how people see them? Are they happy? What was high school like for them? I wish sometimes that I could take things for their simplicity. I wish that I didn't always try to 'look past the surface'. But I do.

Do people see me as mature because I don't laugh everytime someone talks about sex? ((Although tonight was pretty hilarious.)) Maybe people see me as mature because I tell it like it is. I don't put on a front...ever.

It definitely shouldn't be because of graduation. I am not graduating out of maturity. I am graduating because I hate high school. First off, the last 2 years have been a living hell. My fault, I am sure. But hell none the less. Secondly, I see high school, especially OUR high school, as pointless. Our school is like being in jail on death row. You can't fucking piss without you having to write it down, not only on a pass, but on a sign out sheet. And you can't skip one of our *great* pep rallies-you all know how much attending those things is enhancing our education and how it is helping us get prepared for the "real world". Yeah. Right.

Oh. The truth/beauty/perception thing came up in the movie tonight. Some guy had the right line:

"There is no such thing as truth...only perception."

I don't think truth = beauty. I think truth = truth. I don't see what truth has to do with the way the stars look at 3 in the morning at the fork in the road. The stars are not truth. The stars are stars. They are everything. Why must you bring truth into the stars? With truth comes lies. I don't want my favorite things in the world to be, in any way, related to lies. Good ole Mrs. Slack.

I have emails to read/write and a face to wash.

From the other night:(p.s. Can you guys please sign my guestbook and answer the following 2 questions?: .x. If you had to choose a song/song lyrics to describe yourself, what would they be? .x. What about if you had to do the same for me?)

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