well, it has been fun interacting with all of you here, but I’m not going to be on here anymore. I would explain, but I think it’s unnecessary. goodbye!
it’s pretty weird, come to think about it, because as much i am, more often than not, turned off by the people around me, i am also very much in love with everyone. i mean, it’s easy to just look on the surface, and hate what you see, but once you delve deeper, once you pick out their little tics, all the details that make up who they are… it’s difficult not to fall in love. on a day-by-day basis, i fall in love about a hundred times. so i’m out on the street, right? and then i see this guy giving coins to every single busker along the road, and it’s sweet, so sweet. i see a father and a daughter dancing along to the music playing at a cafe, and i fall in love with them both. the sun is setting, and i see a girl on the bench just admiring the sunset, smiling to herself, such a beautiful smile, and there you have it, bam, i’m in love. i can’t help myself.
all i’m saying is, the gist of it all, is that it’s impossible to hate anybody if you just watch them long enough. i don’t know if it makes any sense. it’s just, y’know, a theory i developed while i was at a cafe reading a book by myself, and then this guy came and sat diagonally across from me, and this guy was someone i absolutely loathe because he was really arrogant and standoffish. i was tempted to leave, but for some reason i couldn’t take my eyes off him. not because he was handsome or anything, mind you. it was just, he had this really forlorn expression on his face. and he just sat there, not even touching his coffee, clasping his hands together as though in a prayer of some sort, and i was strangely moved. he’s carrying a story that i can’t figure out just by looking at him, and i wonder, maybe there’s a reason why he has such a lousy attitude. maybe i was too hasty. and i couldn’t hate him anymore, i just couldn’t.
There’s nothing sadder than having so much to say and not a single way of expressing it, because you’re neither good with words nor art.
I like this shot that Sam took of me :-)
The Inner Condition: Why Does Every Girl In Teen Fiction Need A Boyfriend?
Editor’s Note: Hmm.
I love to read. It is a fact that my house contains more books than my room does clothes. And as a slightly shopaholic teenage girl I can boast this to be a lot. In the past years I have collected many novels aimed at girls of my age. (Thankfully this phase is over and I have overpowered my small collection of supernatural shame with classics such as Shakespeare, Dickens, and my beloved Edgar Allan Poe) And I have a pet peeve when it comes to these books. A main requirement is a romantic interest. Always. A girl describes herself as plain but is found irresistible by every cliché teenage dreamboat they encounter. She must be this “witty” (though they are rarely successful at this) “deep” girl who believes she is average in every possible way.
This girl often has a friend who wants to be more than friends or a troublesome ex with unresolved issues and of course the boy who she has a combative “I will act like I hate you but secretly I want to rip your clothes off” relationship with.
Now I am in no way opposed to romance as a part of a story, I’m not a wet blanket. I am simply irritated by the fact that even in today’s society of gender equality, girls and women seem to need at least one man to flirt with, be saved by and ultimately rely on in one way or another. I have found that most kickass females in young adult literature have been written by men. Take Max Ride, a creation by James Patterson (an amazing author), whilst she has a romantic interest or two, they aren’t core aspects of the story, she’s far too busy kicking backside and defending her family to be making out with her morose companion. I much prefer a girl like that to Bella Swan and her damsel in distress bull.
I don’t see why women in literature can’t decide at some point in the book, “you know what, screw this I have my own dreams” and decide that pandering after a boy, as good as his ass must look, isn’t for them. Or even a lesbian heroine to shake things up a bit? I would find that far more interesting than another testosterone infused love triangle and the teen angst it brings along with it.
In conclusion, Stephanie Meyer needs to attend some feminist rallies and teenage girls everywhere should put down those books and pick up something that doesn’t teach them to focus their lives on attractive men.
