Because I was feeling angsty

"To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be happy one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness."
— Woody Allen

 

 

i think this guy was on to something...

 

Why do we love anyways?

 

Even when people hurt us

 

Probably because love makes you do stupid things...which is a monumental undersatement.

 

It makes you question everything you thought you knew to be a certainty

 

So the question you need to ask yourself before you take that leap of faith?

 

Will they be worth it.

 

 

I'm a little more than useless

Okay So.

I realize thats it's been awhile since I posted on this thing, but it's exam time and I'm sometimes an inconsistent person.

It's recently come to my attention that over the course of the past six months my life has almost completely changed.

Which is I guess to be expected, you know since moving out of my house into the city, enrolling in a new school, and living with a bunch of people I've never known prior to Frosh week is a bit of a change.

But Not Even That.

For the first time in my 18 years of exsisting, I've had my first exposure to real life, at least as real as university life can be. But this frightening revelation has taken place; I'm not who I was six months ago...

I realize the incredible cliché that is what I'm discussing, even more so because I"m blogging about it, but none the less I can't shake the feeling that I've gotten more than I've bargained for.

I've seen friends come and go, bridges burned and ties severed. I've let people down and I've been let down. I've seen some doors close but I"ve also been given some amazing opportunities.

But the most strinking thing about leaving home has been having to face who it is that I really am, and how I'm supposed to get to who I want to be.

It's funny to me now that at one time I thought I had everything figured out. Only to come to University and realize that I"m completely clueless.

There are days where I hate who I am.

There are days where I wonder if life could possibly get any better than this.

There are days where I want to crawl into a dark hole somewhere and never come out.

But there are also days where I see hope in tommorow and what life could be like one day

If I can somehow muster the courage and tenacity to pursue my heart's desire.

Blogging?

I never really thought I`d ever start a blog. The whole idea always seemed sort of narcisistic. But it`s been brought to my attention over the past couple of months, mostly through tangents by my friends and boyfriend,  that I tend to not talk about... things. I have the convenient tendency to bottle up. It works, it`s efficient and it saves a lot of time and unnecessary conflict. At least it did for awhile.

So, I`m doing what most 18-25 year olds who have too much time and too much to think about do. I`m going to blog.

Let`s just see what happens.

But before I write anything else, I feel like I should at least gice some kind of information about who I am...or at least who I think I am.

First things first, I`m Christian. I believe that Jesus was God`s son who came and died for the wrongdoings of the world. I believe in a relationship with God, not religious dogma and set social standards. If theres one thing that saddens me the most it`s how tainted the Church`s image is in today`s society, and how God has apparently become irrelevant.

I`m also a university student, with an undeclared major because i`m still trying to figure out which way is up and what the heck it is that I`m supposed to do with my life.

I try my best to love people, which isn`t always easy with a chip on your shoulder.

I`d like to think that I`m complicated and interesting...but I`m probably not.

While this may sound like a tacky facebook picture tagline, I really don`t know what I`d do without my friends. They keep me grounded, build me up, and usually have the guts to tell me what I need to hear, even if it hurts.

I`m lucky enough to have a boyfriend who has a killer sense of humor, the confidence to pull it off, and who is somehow a nice enough guy to put up with my irrationality and still hold my hand in public.

  I`m a wretch who has been saved, despite the fact that I royally screw up on the regular.

R. A. Johnson