I reserve...

the right to be me.

I took this picture a while ago actually but when I saw it again, it made me remember the reason I took it. An old friend of mine, who is going to school for theology, seems to be one of the most judgmental people I’ve ever met. And I never remembered him being that way until recently. So when I bring up my own opinions, he always has something judgmental to say. For those of you that don’t know theology is the study of religion, which means he’s going to school to be involved in the church in some way.  So this strikes me as odd. How can you listen to and help people if all you do is judge? It doesn’t make sense. So, whenever I feel like someone will think I’m crazy for the things I do, I think of him. Because no matter what judgment he or anyone else passes, I will remember that I am myself and no one can take that from me. At the end of the day, only God can judge.

how can you tell....?

Can you really tell what’s going on in my head? Are you taking random guesses based on my facial expression? Or perhaps even the look in my eyes? Wouldn’t it be nice to know, to figure someone’s whole mindset, their whole being only based on the look on their face? Too bad no one ever could. A face could tell you nothing, everything or simply only what it wants you to know. A smile could hide pain or a look of calmness could hide the chaos that invades in head. But can you really tell? Expressions are what we let people see and determine as how we feel…only we can give the answers to the questions  that people are guessing.

Strong.

I don’t ever want to be that girl again. You know, the girl who always is upset or always has a problem that stems from the same thing…a BOY. I don’t want to cry all night and wake up in the morning and pretend everything is okay. I don’t want to have to tell people nothing is wrong when everything is the real answer to that question. I don’t want to have to force myself into believing in a love that no longer exists. I don’t want to hide from the truth knowing that my misery lies within. I don’t want to live in fear, I want to live fearlessly. I want to experience a love like in the movies, even if doesn’t exist. I want to make my own happiness instead of depending on someone else to bring it to me. I want to know that when I wake in the morning, I’m not just going to tell myself I’m okay; I will be okay. I want to be strong…I will be strong.

Yeah, it's classy.

"Nice dalmatian shirt," says the boy that sits across from me in lab, with a smirk on his face.

I reply calmly, "Thanks, I know, it's pretty classy."

It was from his remark that made me wonder why people are so concerned with others style and fashion choices, but even on a broader spectrum, with other people in general. People go through life every day judging others and trying to dictate their lives. But why? Why is it so important that everyone have their input on what other people do? If it doesn’t directly affect you, than leave it alone. Yet I feel people make it a duty to be concerned with others but only to make them feel small. What happened to the age old saying, if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all…well, except in art class. Critique is essential!