So I’m just a teenager living in the gay capital of the world (and I say this with the utmost affection to my fellow San Franciscans). I don’t really like to write because I always think that people on these kinds of websites just want to “express their inner pain” or “show the world who they truly are”. I think this is crap because: a) If you have access a computer and wifi, you are probably living a pretty good life and don’t have as much pain compared to less fortunate people all around the world suffering in war zones, living in poverty, unless you have some kind of physical disease or disadvantage, maybe even a mental condition, b) Chances are that you don’t need to “reveal” your true self to the world because everyone on this site knows what you are, an amateur writer with no life.
I might sound pessimistic but I know this because the writers at my school are like this: all moody and pretending like they’re more than they’ll ever be. I just recently found the pleasures of writing through science fiction. I don’t know why but I’ve been an avid reader my whole life, but never a writer. I have never thought of writing my thoughts down on a piece of paper; I never thought they were interesting enough.
Yesterday my English teacher came up to me while I was reading Kurt Vonnegut for the first time and we struck up a conversation before class started. She just wanted to know why I was reading such a depressing book at such a young age. I told her that it was my type of book that I enjoyed reading in my spare time. She said that her professor in college made her class read Vonnegut and she thought Cat’s Cradle was pretty weird. I just told her about my interest in science fiction and how many people think it’s all about Star Wars and aliens and crap but I explained that science fiction can be anything from psychology to the apocalypse, it just has to contain real science and put facts in an amusing story to entertain and educate simultaneously. She was such the opposite. She’s all into romance novels and stories about healing, friendship, love, and emotions. I had to restrain my involuntary muscles from reflexively rolling my eyes. I will never find a science fiction enthusiast out there like me. There I go again with the hippie pain crap. Never mind, she then told me she came over to say I have the highest grade of the class and that I scored the highest on the English standardized test. She also told me that I have a mature and peculiar style of writing in my essays.
Last night I decided to start a writing club. Not because I “have passion” but because I’m good at it. My parents went to this college acceptance informational meeting where a few parents of ivy league students said that leadership opportunities will definitely help with the applications. So my parents are not-very-discreetly hinting me to be more of an extrovert. I wish I could show them that TED Talk about the power of introverts but they won’t have any of it. Anyway, I’m going to start a writing club to try to up my applications while doing what I do best at the same time.
So what the hell am I doing on this website? I want to say that it’s practice for my writing but mostly, I’m just a curious kid.
An invitation to be in the moment
This morning we decided on a spontaneous trip to Baker Beach with our two-year-old son.
Our city by the bay is done with Summer. That summertime fog that we wake up to is no more.
Homeward bound after a month in the USA
One day-One Hour- One Minute- It will happen. It is inevitable. Except it already has.
Top 10 Things To Do In San Francisco
If you live in San Francisco, you know to avoid Eddy and Leavenworth Street... *stab*
Wrote this the day after the attacks in Paris but was reminded of it this morning when I read the news about the bombing in Turkey
In Search of Color