No. 221

Oh Oh Oh, i'm blogging again (to the rhythm of that Pharrell song with Snoop)

Ok, so life is so ironic, and why do I personally constantly bitch about it.

Life is ironic, I find the most healthy people that i've known, my godfather, my swimcoach, my uncle-who I was never close to, but thought he was a swell guy not because he was nice, but he genuwinely enjoyed life and took care of his family. (Getting teary eyed). So, here I am, unhealthy, America's fat, and i'm still alive, yet these people are dead, close to dying, and yet here I am, still a live, bitching about life, and these people, what is it about them that makes them have to suffer. Is it the fact that they were so healthy that now they are fighting on to live, fighting to live what kind of life? I've read the book Tuesday's with Morrie who embraces death and blah blah so upbeat, sure you are, you can talk, you have all your knowledge, you just know you're dying. What's with the people, the aging ones, who can no longer talk, who can no longer move and are conscience of it, who know what's going to happen-what's going on, and can't voice it to the people who care the most? I just don't get it, I seriously don't, if I ever went into the field of medicine, I would want to know why the strong stay alive yet at a immobile state. That is the question, why the weak reach death faster and painlessly, while the strong have to duke it out, it's if they're fighting for the coveted spot in Heaven before being thrown into the depths of Hell. What gives?

It's as if I have lost the will to live. No, i'm not sucidical, but i've realized shopping it just not it for me anymore, school really is great-but I mean, I don't thrive like I did in high school. It's become to tedious, to exhausting. It's as if I would be perfectly content on my lounge chair on the balcony with nothing but myself lying there. I don't need music, water, sun block, lotion, lip balm, food, magazines, to do my homework, to go on the net, to go and organize or to look at my calendar. It's like i've stopped being obessive compulsive. Maybe this is the moment i've wanted to live, the moment where I realize everything is ok and i'm perfectly content sittnig there knowing the world won't wait, but it's ok, because it really doesn't matter as long as i'm happy, yet I have this whole anxiousness about what classes i'm taking Winter Qtr. when I really can't do anything, about how i'm going to law school-when I really can't do anything, when am I blah blah blah, when I really can't do anything about it, because I am a shaker and not a mover, because words cause more damage to the psychological phisyque then do actions...