Tag Archives: life

Fear the Unlived Life

“The average life expectancy is 67 years. You have 24,455 days to live, dream, and thrive. That’s it. The end. No redo. With that sort of fact residing in your brain, how can you not live your life to the fullest and pursue your dreams and desires? Why do we settle for less? Why do we not try things because we’re scared we’ll fail or be laughed at? What makes leaving passion behind to live a life of repetition and solemness so desirable? I have no idea, and this is the first time I’ve ever been glad to not know something. Life is meant to be experienced. To be felt. To be taken. To be dissected. To be lived. They always said the world is for the taking, and you know, it truly is if you throw yourself out there and actually try and take it. Life comes down to passion at the end of it all, so why act as if it’s childish or impossible if it’s truly your passion? Another question that need not be answered. Live!”

I just read this on another blog of a foreign exchange student I saw on YouTube during some late night exchange student perusing and thought it was so relevant. It speaks for itself.


 Over and out,
Clare Roth
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Pity Party

I’ve always had bad luck with birthday parties. I was always the one girl at your party who didn’t like something that happened, cried and ran off. And I did the same thing at my own parties. So, people stopped inviting me to theirs.

Ever since, it’s always been a slippery slope. And people aren’t sensitive at all. You think I don’t freaking notice when you talk about your party and invite people to your party right in front of me? Really? That’s rude to anyone in any circumstance.

But I guess now that I think about it, logically, since I’m 15, I’m definitely going to act the same way at a birthday party that I did when I was 7. You’re so so right. Silly me.

No. And I’m tired of being a fucking joke to everyone. Why are people so insensitive and juvenile and oblivious and mean? I mean, I guess it doesn’t matter how some people act seeing as they aren’t very memorable.

Last year I didn’t even have a birthday party. And it doesn’t hurt or bother me or anything really, because it saved me a lot of anxiety and hurt and whatever. That’s so wrong.

You shouldn’t be afraid to throw a freaking party. You shouldn’t worry about every little thing and what it will say about you to other people. Some of it is being a realist, but a lot of it is being afraid, and the result of being scarred by people from the past who were the wrong ones.

And how fair is it that someone has to worry that someone else’s parents forced them to go to that party? Are you kidding me? I don’t know, I just think this is wrong. Is wrong the right word?

I don’t know what it is about birthday parties, but they make me so nervous, and tense, and empty. Sometimes it turns out okay in the end. And while half the time it is people being insensitive and cruel, the other half is me overreacting.

But even my parents have told me not to act a certain way and have cautioned me to not let something bother me or make me “mope” or be absolutely rude. That’s not fair either. I am SIXTEEN.

Are my feelings and frustrations and problems something for you to just throw around and discard? I really can’t have an opinion or pick a side? I can’t feel something or want something or care about something without it being written off as just because of my age? That’s not right either.

Okay so the next time you have a party, or write off someone’s feelings, or make someone feel small, and empty, and worthless, fucking think about how this could potentially scar that person for the rest of their life.

xoxo – katy

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