I really enjoy writing. It’s one of my absolute favourite things to do. I love it when words flow together well and make something beautiful. Because I enjoy writing so much I chose to take a college composition class that was offered at my high school. This class has been absolutely amazing for me. There are habits in my writing that I didn’t know I had. Things like a tendency to forget commas, over-explaining, circular logic, floral language. Things that I wouldn’t have been able to detect by myself. I also have a theme that I follow I’ve noticed. I don’t have a very wide variety of genres so to speak. Now, this doesn’t apply to fictional writing. It’s a lot easier to branch out in fictional writing than it is when writing a research paper or something to that extent.

What I’m struggling with most right now, is personal interest in the content. I’ve been assigned to write a 1200+ word argumentative essay over a topic of my choosing. I love writing about the psychological and sociological aspect of things. I find the subjects intriguing. But I’m not in any way interested in arguing my point over one of these subjects. I like to think of myself as pretty chill. I don’t find reason to disagree with your opinion because honestly, I just don’t care. So for this essay I had to choose a topic from a list of topics given to us if we were unable to come up with one on our own.

I would have liked to write an essay about the importance of a neutral standpoint rather than that of a conservative or liberal, and maybe I will someday. But for now, there isn’t enough time or research on that topic for me to write an essay. So I chose to write about what the “selfie” tells us about ourselves. There are a few problems with this topic.

1. I don’t care.
2. It’s impossible to write entirely in the third person
3. I don’t care.
4. All the literature on this topic is art v. narcissism
5. I don’t care.
6. There’s not even a good standpoint I could have on this.
7. I don’t care.
8. Ima get roasted if I ever post it online
9. I don’t care
10. And finally, I DON’T CARE.

At this point I’ve done a lot of research on the psychology of selfies and come to the conclusion that I don’t care. In fact, the more I read about the topic the LESS I care. So here I will summarize everything I have found:

Selfies are not inherently bad for us and everyone takes them including the Pope. Nobody really cares about your selfies unless they say otherwise and you don’t need to get all worked up about it. Excessive selfies basically just tell us you’re either a friggin’ narcissist or incredibly insecure.

Too many selfies are annoying and unnecessary. Stop being annoying and unnecessary.

I’m OUT!

Age: 18 Day 6/365

Some things I learned this week:

• It is correct grammar to say theirself rather than themself when speaking in the singular.
• The room looks brighter when it’s clean.
• Headphones that work are positively fantastic.
• People are pleased by even the smallest of things
• How to be pretty.

I have spent the past week in an incredibly bad mood. I woke up early Monday morning and still managed to be late. I woke up early Tuesday morning and was late again. I woke up later Wednesday morning and was on time. I was then late Thursday and late Friday. I hate being late. I started using a new facial scrub for my acne and my skin broke out really bad. My room was an atrocious mess because I don’t have time to clean. I went to bed late all week because I was working on all my school work. I didn’t manage to get a shower in for a good three of those days because I had to work and someone insisted I went to their party.

All week I was in a terrible mood and looked like the most disgusting thing that’s come out of my basement yet. People kept asking me if I was alright. They didn’t talk to me much because I was testy and angry. I was all manner of things that nobody likes. I was the epitome of the word Ugly.

I realized I was bored. I was tired of my routine and not having time to do the things I like to do or talking to the people that I want to talk to. As a team my colorguard talked to the coach. We told her we needed time off to focus on our work. We got it. Come Thursday I didn’t have to teach middle schoolers the same thing I’ve been teaching them for weeks. I had time to practice piano as I needed. My lesson went incredibly well. That evening a mutual follower on a website I frequent asked for a partner to write a webcomic with. I got excited and jumped on the opportunity. I then spent the rest of my time talking to a very good friend. At that point everything was alright.

Thursday night I took a shower and slept very well. So well in fact that I overslept and was late Friday. I didn’t care. I was happy. I wore my favorite shirt and spent time with my family. My brother bought me a pair of headphones to replace my sad old white pair. I just generally had a good time.

I felt pretty that day. I like to stare at pretty people. The kind of person that looks nice and looks confident. The person that walks past and looks comfortable in their own skin. I tend to watch them. I don’t realize sometimes that I can be that person. Walking around Friday night I figured that out. I noticed the pretty people were staring at me and not the other way around. I happened to notice myself in the mirror and thought, “Woah. Since when am I this good looking?” Since I was happy.

Beauty, and good looks aren’t necessarily all about outward appearance. It definitely helps to be clean though. The concept rests in how you feel about yourself. I was ugly because I felt ugly. I was pretty because I felt pretty. The acne didn’t go away in just one night’s rest. But that one night’s rest helped me feel so much better about myself.

How to be pretty:

• Be clean
• Sleep as needed
• Get excited about something. Don’t just wallow in the same old routine. Have a project to focus your mind on.
• Wear clothes that make you happy and feel good.
• Talk to people that make you happy.
• Feel good about yourself.

That’s what I learned this week.

Post Script: This isn’t a guaranteed thing. It’s my thing. Also, all my favorite shirts happen to be plaid. I have enough plaid to wear everyday for over a week. It makes me happy.

Age: 18 Day 1/365

People like to think something about a person is different the day their birthday comes around. This does not hold true for myself. I do not, in fact, understand why people think something changes. Under normal circumstances you’re the same person that you were yesterday. Age is an arbitrary number that we use to define how long we have been on this earth. You can tell someone the exact same information in multiple ways. Today I am eighteen years old. Today I am 938.57142857 weeks old. Today I am 6,570 days old. It’s just a number.

Exactly 8 days previous to this one my friend had his (arbitrary number here) birthday. He told me that if felt “weird to be (arbitrary number).” I did not sympathize/empathize with the sentiment. I think I might have even told him that nothing changes on a birthday. I can’t remember, it was a week ago.

Well, my birthday started getting close and people started getting excited. What for? Everyone would ask me, “Hey! What do you want for your birthday?” I would answer, “I don’t know and I don’t care.” Because I don’t care about my birthday. At some point during the week I mentioned the date and from across the room someone yelled out “Two days till (my name)’s birthday!” The people around me were far more excited for my birthday than I was. Why is that?

So I thought about it. I thought about why people celebrate birthdays? Why do I celebrate my own birthday? I celebrate my birthday because it is a societal and a cultural norm, I want to eat cake, and I like being just a little bit selfish with good reason. So I expand that thought a little bit. Everyone wants to be a little bit selfish with good reason. Expand the thought even more. It’s nice to give someone a reason to be selfish and get cake while you’re at it. Then I jump to a new thought. Man, it sure is great I’ve managed to survive an arbitrary unit of measurement. Now it makes sense. Celebrating the fact that we’re still alive. Then now, that isn’t selfish. That’s grateful. So then shouldn’t birthdays be about gratitude towards the life we have been given and those that have helped us all through out the journey?

So now I understand why we celebrate birthdays. Nothing may change over a day but plenty changes over a year. Suddenly being a legal adult means more responsibility and a means of using all of those changes I’ve amassed since the day I was born 938.57142857 weeks ago. It sure is great to be alive.

Post Script: I do hope I did that math correctly.