How the World has come to See Us

Nobody can change what has happened in the past. Nobody can stop how the world sees our cultures. You may be a crazy gook. Maybe your a sedated drug addict. A braniac who always thinks they know better. An optimistic who dreams to high. A terrorist set to kill everyone in their way. But these aren't the titles we choose for ourselves, they are the titles bestowed upon us by self ritcheous anarchist who have a distaste for anyone who isn't themselves.

If you could choose your own title, what would it be?
Would you be known as the savior of your family fortune? The geek who built the latest lazy person gadget? The scholar who solved world hunger? The actress who never left a friend with a frown?
You choose your own path, nobody else.

This week we will touch on the things people have called us and how we may have pictured things turning out differently.
For someone who may have been seen as a pill-popper because they need antidepressants; maybe they wished to be an artist bringing views to some that never existed before but they were denied and their hopes suffocated.
Maybe the one seen as a self absorbed popular teen wished to recieve new levels of attention because all they've known is neglect and wrong doing.
The grandma with the bad attitude wishes nobody would hate on her mother russia because that is all she has known.
The afgans want to be saviors for their parents and help free their parents but the world sees them as terrorists destroying lives and millions of dollars worth of government systems.

Maybe a time has come for us to change our perspectives and re-evaluate what we can do.

Reasons to be Happy by Katrina Kittle

Initially, I had deemed this book as another self help one. 'Reasons to be Happy', it has to be aimed at people with depression and helping them see why their lives are so much better than they think; right? I was dead wrong. This novel, while very chick-flicky; follows the life of an eighth grader forced into a life she didn't choose. Due to her parents' acting careers, Hannah is placed in a private school filled with snobs. She is quite literally dragged in to the mean girls posse because of her father and she is forced to give up the things she loves. Ultimately she is consumed with trying to make herself 'beautiful' and she ruins her chances of enjoying her final moments with her mother who dies of cancer half way through the book. Even before her father becomes consumed with alcoholism, Hannah becomes overwhelmed with her bulimia. She can't admit it to anybody, she doesn't even admit it to herself by calling it what it is; but she knows it is killing her. Aunt Izzy who had experienced anorexia first hand can see the signs and tries to help Hannah. After a trip to Africa, Hannah reconnects with her true self and brings that with her when she comes home to LA. Through the struggles you can connect to the characters and their lives but you are also presented with plenty of reasons to hate them. That is what gives the book personality and a real aura that entraps you in the scenario.

Anyone who is having trouble admitting their problems might like to read this book because at least to yourself, or to a close friend; it may become easier to say what is going on and how you may be able to fix it.

-The Original NightDweller

Prom

I've tried keeping this to myself. I only told those whom I knew wouldn't laugh at me for being conceited or tell me I was being petty.

Senior Prom is meant to be a "right of passage". That is what everyone tells me anyway. They've told me that I will regret it later. That I will wish I would have been more involved in my high school years. But the thing is, I don't belong here. I don't belong in this time period and I sure as heck don't belong in a life where I feel forced to do everything I hate.

Las Vegas is cool. Tons of outrageously expensive gowns. Poker. Slot machines. Music blaring The whole nine yards. So why wasn't prom that fun for me? I felt abandoned. I wanted to crawl up in my cubby back home but I couldn't. I was stuck trying to please these people that call themselves my friends and my family.
I'll admit that the evening started out kinda fun. I finally accomplished putting makeup on for once. I kinda liked the poofy Cinderella like dress I had. I went with two of the coolest guy friends I could have asked for. And we even convinced my dad to dress up and play chauffeur. But after we got there, after everyone started jumping up and down to this horrible dub step remix stuff; I was left regretting that I spent ninety-five dollars on these four hours of my life. I sat in a corner hating that my camera wasn't working so I couldn't even get pictures with my teachers. I got up every time a friend came to my table to join me in the fun only to return when they got too preoccupied grinding on their dates.
After prom was kinda cool though. I got to go laser tagging for the first time in my life with some people I like to think are my friends. That was probably the highlight of he night though an to think that out of six hours I enjoyed the forty minutes of running around with fake guns the most.

I definitely think that prom would have been more fun for me if I had more people who didn't care to spend the night with their dates. Or say we actually had the poker tables set up so I could play against the teachers. Or if the theme was a masquerade ball, I really could have got into that and hidden who I was so more people wanted to hang out with me. Oh well. What's done is done.

I just wish the conversation and drama didn't have to carry over into the following week.

-The Original NightDweller