Rediscover

I am about to go to church for the first time in half a year.

Half a year.

It's youth group, not really straight-up conservative Sarah-Palin church. Does it matter? I don't think it does.

I look up to the people who find Him every day. They see Him, they feel Him, they learn from Him. Every day. I wish I could do that.

Granted, I've been trying. But it's so easy to turn and hate those little ditzy brunettes with the short-shorts, Uggs, and the aggressively-straightened hair. It's so easy to disregard the parental units. It's so easy to ignore everybody else and just concentrate on me.

To be selfish

To be lazy

To be everything I don't want to be.

I talk to Him a lot, more casually than I should, I think.

Me: Hey, God. What are we gonna do today?

What I presume He says: Whatever you want to do.

Me: We're going to school.

Him: Okay.

Him: How was your day?

Me: It was okay, with the usual drama.

Him: Drama?

Me: Yes, You know.

Him: Yes, I know. What are you going to do about it?

Me: I don't know. You'll show me the right way, won't You?

Him: As always.

After these conversations, everything seems work out okay.

I don't believe you

Relationships.

The inevitable blog post discussing quite a controversial topic indeed.

Relationships.

The friend, the teacher, the boyfriend, the girlfriend. The parent, the counselor, the acquaintance, the idol.

For some reason, there are four listed above that are uncannily misused too often.

THE FRIEND:

The one who eats your food without asking, the one who sees you without asking, the one who listens to you without asking.

Give or take, that also applies to

THE GIRL-BOY-FRIEND:

Typically the "significant other", the "one", your true knight in shining armor (or tin foil), the girl of your dreams (or fantasies), your hubby (or tubby), your baby (or literally?!?!), the one person you are allowed to kiss on the lips because in today's society, doing so to anyone else is cheating or possibly homosexual.

Or rather, if you enjoy screwing life around, your player, your slut, your whore, your jock, your boobs, your social status, your game, your self-esteem.

THE ACQUAINTENCE:

The one you ask for math help, the one you partner up with because you are a dork without a partner, the one who tells you everything you really don't care about.

THE IDOL:

The one you admire and follow with your mind and eyes, the one who doesn't know you but you even know their fax number, the one you cheer for simply because you love them.

Now toss out your brain and put your heart next to each of these and determine who or what you really are.

The Third Realm

I hate perfect.

Perfect is so boring.

First there is no challenge. Then there is no failure. Then there is no determination. Then there is no motivation. Then there is no overcoming. Then there is no accomplishment. Then there is no human.

Utopias are perfect.

I hate utopias.

My utopia is my dystopia.

Mess with my grades. Sever my relationships. Choke my hope, beat my love, pull my brain.

Make me weak.

And I will become strong.

Suck it, Satan, you won't get me.

And I know you know my friends' worst secrets. I know the crap you whisper in their ears and the crap you whisper in mine. I know you know I know because as long as it's communicated, you know. I know you know, the vast majority of people express what they think. Almost everything they think. I know you  know my friends' worst secrets and many of mine, because we express what we think.

But you also know you have done to us everything above. Screwed our lives over at some point. If you haven't you will, because sometimes people just forget that the Holy Spirit is even there. Even if you have already you can certainly do worse. Dear. You can certainly do worse.

My friends may not know this but I certainly do, and if one day they believe then you'll never take us again, because I know you have demons crawling everywhere in the spiritual realm, I know you, Lucifer, are going around screaming the most hideous nightmares in the people who are suffering the most. Then here, Satan, remember this.

That at the name of Jesus, every knee shall bow, on heaven, on earth, and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

I command you, Satan, in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior, to leave the threshold of our lives. Go where Jesus goes. In the name of Jesus, stop hurting us. In the name of Jesus, stop hurting the innocent.

I wish you guys were still angels. I wish you never fell from heaven to become evil.

Every little thing she does is magic.

And so begins the journey towards perfect.

I don't think your average high-schooler consciously thinks about perfect often, but the goal of high school is just pushing us to perfect.

Who's the best at this? Who's the best at that? Is your ACT score higher than mine? Are you going to a Top 5 magnate school? Who's good? Who's better? Who's best?

Precisely.

Adults tell us to try our best and don't stress out because everything's gonna be okay.

My PE teacher has actually started to check in on me. He asks me how I'm doing and how much homework I have. He tells me that I have to relax and try not to break my brain because, you know, I can only do so much.

I tell him that I try to get enough sleep, try to keep my brain intact, stay away from alcohol and drugs because they don't solve my geometry problems for me. He laughs and smiles, but I still think he's worried. And my situation isn't even close to the worst.

I once made a list of all the things I wished I could do. Get a superhighsupercool GPA. Obtain a free ride to my college of choice. Appease my parents, help my brother. Have a life (yeah, haha). If only they actually helped me achieve all of those goals. Yeah, it didn't.

I spend my free time planning out my life. Today, to take a break from brainbreaking geometry, I recolor-coded my four-year high school career plan. (And yes, by recolor-coding I mean that I've color-coded it already. It just wasn't schmancy enough, let's face it.) I printed it out, made a key, and went colored-pencil happy with filling in boxes for courses I would take.

And yes, I had fun.

I also had fun converting grams to liters using the mole. For chem, naturally.

Anyway, since the beginning of middle school, I've known where I'm going to live, what I'm going to do, where I'm going to go, but this doesn't assist me in my goal of perfect.

I have friends who are so amazingly good at every little thing they do, and I think they wish for perfect, too.

BUT GUESS WHAT, HIGH SCHOOL.

Nobody's perfect.