- Gage and I are doing great.
- I can drive.
- I designed a skateboard for Joey today.
I'm staying up late every night, playing Neopets. That's what's going on in my life. That's it. Yay.
7/31/08
So... Bored...
NOTHING is happening in my life, besides a few things:
7/21/08
Does God Exist? A Question in a Forum. My Answer.
This morning I logged into my Myyearbook account, and read the question someone put out there in the forums. The question was: "i just got back from girls camp and now i know god is real. and that thereis a heaven and a hell if you disagree why?? what do you think happensafter you die?"
After a couple of minutes, I couldn't pull myself away. I had to tell this girl why. I think I had to tell me why. And now I will tell you why.
Hey, I'm LDS, or at least I was raised as one. I went to camp and all that, wentto church every Sunday, went to activities, (never went to Seminary, tho...) andall that jazz. I even gave one of the best talks that a youth in my ward hasgiven. But recently, I've opened my eyes to the world around me.
I hate the whole "gay marriage" argument. Love is love, and all love should behonored. If anyone wants to get married, it's thier right. If God doesn't likeit, then he can deal with it when they die.
My little sister is the epitome of Mormons. She is the EXTREME Molly Mormon. But I never was. I don't think I ever truly believed in it. And because I wasn't as perfect as her, not as happy, or didn't wear bright colors, and everything, Iwas judged. I'm upset that the Ward my family is in now is so cruel, as they do it to my little brother.
My sister was needed for babysitting by two families at the same time. When they were asked if I could do it for her, both adamantly said no, they just won't go out.
I have never had an amazing experience to tell me God is real. Even my baptism didn't reveal anything special, no peace of mind, no "holy ghost", or anything.Those few times I have believed, I have never felt so very alone.
That is why I don't believe in God.
I don't know what happens after death. Because I truly don't believe in God, I never could kill myself when I attempted to. I was afraid that there would be nothing, no life after death, no new experiences, that it all ends. I was afraid I was wrong and there would be something, and that I would suffer for my choices.
Religion has always been a struggle for me. I have a hard time not knowing if there is a higher being, also known as faith. I hope that all explains what you were asking. [end quote]
Does that make sense at all to you? Or am I just crazy?
After a couple of minutes, I couldn't pull myself away. I had to tell this girl why. I think I had to tell me why. And now I will tell you why.
Hey, I'm LDS, or at least I was raised as one. I went to camp and all that, wentto church every Sunday, went to activities, (never went to Seminary, tho...) andall that jazz. I even gave one of the best talks that a youth in my ward hasgiven. But recently, I've opened my eyes to the world around me.
I hate the whole "gay marriage" argument. Love is love, and all love should behonored. If anyone wants to get married, it's thier right. If God doesn't likeit, then he can deal with it when they die.
My little sister is the epitome of Mormons. She is the EXTREME Molly Mormon. But I never was. I don't think I ever truly believed in it. And because I wasn't as perfect as her, not as happy, or didn't wear bright colors, and everything, Iwas judged. I'm upset that the Ward my family is in now is so cruel, as they do it to my little brother.
My sister was needed for babysitting by two families at the same time. When they were asked if I could do it for her, both adamantly said no, they just won't go out.
I have never had an amazing experience to tell me God is real. Even my baptism didn't reveal anything special, no peace of mind, no "holy ghost", or anything.Those few times I have believed, I have never felt so very alone.
That is why I don't believe in God.
I don't know what happens after death. Because I truly don't believe in God, I never could kill myself when I attempted to. I was afraid that there would be nothing, no life after death, no new experiences, that it all ends. I was afraid I was wrong and there would be something, and that I would suffer for my choices.
Religion has always been a struggle for me. I have a hard time not knowing if there is a higher being, also known as faith. I hope that all explains what you were asking. [end quote]
Does that make sense at all to you? Or am I just crazy?
7/20/08
Guess Who's Back, Back, Back, Back Again, Gain, Gain...
HELLO, my READERS!! I am back in Horrible LAS VEGAS!! I'm HAPPY to be home!
Sorry that I didn't write that much... we had NO Internet...
I'm sooooooo happy to be home, however, no matter how awful Vegas is. My friends are all here, and I missed them.
Especially Gage, my baby. I had such a hard time without him. And he had an even harder time without me. Thankfully, we called each other every day and night. Still doesn't make up for not being able to kiss, hug, and just touch each other. I still wonder if he's real, he's so wonderful. I still love just reaching for his hand and finding that it's solid, and not just my imagination.
We went to a party tonight. It was a gathering of friends, celebrating a loved one's 17Th birthday, and the beginning of her 18Th year of life. It was great seeing my friends again, even knowing this may be the last time we hung out. Joel has gone an graduated, and a lot of people are moving.
And to think, our lives which we hold so dear are going past us soo fast. I'm scared to grow up, and be independent. I have no income, as of yet; no way to support myself. But I'm torn in that I cannot wait to get out of here. Away from this place I so bitterly call a home. And yet, I don't want to leave. I wasn't a child long enough. I grew up too quickly. My childhood was wreaked with emotional pain, and torment. I had to grow in maturity to handle it. I resent that.
I also resent my father. I know it sounds wrong, but hear me out. I need to vent.
My father does nothing around the house. No chores, I mean to say. I haven't seen him pick up a plate to clean in nearly a year. He comes home every day from work, and lays down on his bed to watch TV. And then yells at us that we don't do anything. When we point out that he hasn't done anything, he tells us he has a job, and puts food in our mouths, so shut up, and get to work. But that nagging voice in the back of my head reminds me that mom has a job, and she does more than anyone. I told this to mom, and she says that he thinks teaching is a joke. WTF?? TEACHING, a JOKE???
Well, I'm going to go now. Have to do those dishes dad's been bitching about. Hugs and Kisses!
Sorry that I didn't write that much... we had NO Internet...
I'm sooooooo happy to be home, however, no matter how awful Vegas is. My friends are all here, and I missed them.
Especially Gage, my baby. I had such a hard time without him. And he had an even harder time without me. Thankfully, we called each other every day and night. Still doesn't make up for not being able to kiss, hug, and just touch each other. I still wonder if he's real, he's so wonderful. I still love just reaching for his hand and finding that it's solid, and not just my imagination.
We went to a party tonight. It was a gathering of friends, celebrating a loved one's 17Th birthday, and the beginning of her 18Th year of life. It was great seeing my friends again, even knowing this may be the last time we hung out. Joel has gone an graduated, and a lot of people are moving.
And to think, our lives which we hold so dear are going past us soo fast. I'm scared to grow up, and be independent. I have no income, as of yet; no way to support myself. But I'm torn in that I cannot wait to get out of here. Away from this place I so bitterly call a home. And yet, I don't want to leave. I wasn't a child long enough. I grew up too quickly. My childhood was wreaked with emotional pain, and torment. I had to grow in maturity to handle it. I resent that.
I also resent my father. I know it sounds wrong, but hear me out. I need to vent.
My father does nothing around the house. No chores, I mean to say. I haven't seen him pick up a plate to clean in nearly a year. He comes home every day from work, and lays down on his bed to watch TV. And then yells at us that we don't do anything. When we point out that he hasn't done anything, he tells us he has a job, and puts food in our mouths, so shut up, and get to work. But that nagging voice in the back of my head reminds me that mom has a job, and she does more than anyone. I told this to mom, and she says that he thinks teaching is a joke. WTF?? TEACHING, a JOKE???
Well, I'm going to go now. Have to do those dishes dad's been bitching about. Hugs and Kisses!
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