Despite All Odds - This I Believe
(A:N/ This was my Essay in English class "This I Believe" inspired by Zack Ford <http://zackfordblogs.com/2009/06/ironically-my-this-i-believe-essay/> Enjoy, share and relate!)
I want to tell you what I believe, but I’m not really sure you want to hear it. In fact, I am almost positive you don’t. My experiences have shown and proven to me, in more ways than one, that people as a whole...can be dense. I'll use this example, when you meet me and hear that I’m 17, you will laugh. Memories will flood back of your own naive childhood and, as every other person would likely do , you would nod your head and move on with your life. However, when you hear that I’m 17, and bisexual, you will cast me off as hell-bound. Right? Funny how that works. Even if, say, you have just met someone. Anyone. You ask them questions, laugh, talk a little bit, and after a while decide that this person is a pretty nifty sack of bones, skin and personality. Basically, you would've otherwise had no problem with them. Then you decide to get to know them a little better, you find out one minor detail regarding their personal life, and all the demons and hellish creatures of Satan's army are let loose. Doesn’t really seem fair, does it? However, to be fair, this experience has all been being told from an adult perspective and reaction towards myself. I'm sure if you were a teenager reading this essay you probably wouldn’t care at all- because personal experience has shown me this as well. Despite everything that has brought me to this prominent point in my life, I still chose to write this essay.
This I believe: I am doomed.
Actually, let me rephrase that. This I believe... our whole generation is royally doomed. It isn’t even our fault, but sadly enough, that sounds a bit more appropriate.
I have always said that living in the United States has made me feel like a game of Guitar Hero that never ends- going backwards. You are dodging and sliding, across notes on the guitar strings like you would be in real life. Only in actual reality, the notes are different beliefs, religions, conspiracies and people. I don’t know if anyone else sees life this way, maybe I am the only one, but my beliefs, even those I’ve publicly made known, carry little to no weight at all. Much like playing Guitar Hero on 'Easy' against someone who is on 'Expert' and totally kicking your butt. This isn’t because people don’t agree with me and don’t want to help me get my point across, it's because not enough of the right people do. You see, I believe personally that, say, Gay Marriage- we will use this example because it seems appropriate. If it were up to the general public, I have a feeling that Gay Marriage would be allowed, no, legal everywhere. But majority of the world doesn’t have millions of dollars to spend on supporting the cause. However just because I, and many other people in the world, want to make a difference- I’m not personally wealthy. I’m not completely heterosexual, either. Not 100% Caucasian, not Republican, nor, oh NO, dear Lord, don’t tell anyone!, believe every single word of 'The Bible', either. I’m doomed.
Many people will argue with me and tell me that I really have no room to complain. Maybe I don’t. I know I don’t, in fact. There are starving kids in Africa, and then all of the problems with Korea, and many others I am sure, yet here I am complaining about being a bisexual teenager with mixed thoughts on government and how it is being ran. But hey, sue me. I have a right to have beliefs and opinions don’t I? I personally believe that the government isn’t totally honest. I'm SORRY if I burst anyone's bubble with this essay, but I believe that my beliefs are the truth. People will look at this essay in the future, -actually, they probably wont- , and think that I was crazy for thinking and believing what I do today. That's nature's way, it always has been. But really, come on. I’m supposed to act like the fight for civil rights is over? I'm supposed to just blindly accept that global warming is only a myth? I should just wait around and believe that the government is totally trustworthy, leaning on social security’s future? Right. That would almost be funny enough to laugh at if I wasn’t so dead-beat serious. Lucky for me and a few others in this generation, I was raised outside of this mind-control matrix of helicopter parents and government magicians. However, the few of us intelligent ones left still have plenty of work cut out for ourselves... Convincing the rest of this generation that they, too, actually can and should think for themselves will be a feat all on it's own. I just hope they figure it out before the oil peaks, glaciers melt, and social security dries up. Do you kind of see what I mean now? We are just DOOMED.
Believe it or not, though, I’m actually pretty optimistic. I can laugh, for example, at those people we all see around wherever you live -we all know who they are- who smoke, but still at the same time, claim to be pro-life and against abortion. Ha! See? That is kind of funny to me. They get defensive when people confront them for what they do to their bodies, but they have no problem condemning what other people do to theirs. Hypocrites. This kind of hypocrisy is what I despise the most, but I also accept it. It inspires me. Despite all the odds, I believe there is hope. Hope for my generation and hope for a better world and future. And even if I don’t have all of my bearings in tact quite yet- I am only 17 after all- I still have the rest of my life to make an impact.
I want to tell you what I believe, but I’m not really sure you want to hear it. In fact, I am almost positive you don’t. My experiences have shown and proven to me, in more ways than one, that people as a whole...can be dense. I'll use this example, when you meet me and hear that I’m 17, you will laugh. Memories will flood back of your own naive childhood and, as every other person would likely do , you would nod your head and move on with your life. However, when you hear that I’m 17, and bisexual, you will cast me off as hell-bound. Right? Funny how that works. Even if, say, you have just met someone. Anyone. You ask them questions, laugh, talk a little bit, and after a while decide that this person is a pretty nifty sack of bones, skin and personality. Basically, you would've otherwise had no problem with them. Then you decide to get to know them a little better, you find out one minor detail regarding their personal life, and all the demons and hellish creatures of Satan's army are let loose. Doesn’t really seem fair, does it? However, to be fair, this experience has all been being told from an adult perspective and reaction towards myself. I'm sure if you were a teenager reading this essay you probably wouldn’t care at all- because personal experience has shown me this as well. Despite everything that has brought me to this prominent point in my life, I still chose to write this essay.
This I believe: I am doomed.
Actually, let me rephrase that. This I believe... our whole generation is royally doomed. It isn’t even our fault, but sadly enough, that sounds a bit more appropriate.
I have always said that living in the United States has made me feel like a game of Guitar Hero that never ends- going backwards. You are dodging and sliding, across notes on the guitar strings like you would be in real life. Only in actual reality, the notes are different beliefs, religions, conspiracies and people. I don’t know if anyone else sees life this way, maybe I am the only one, but my beliefs, even those I’ve publicly made known, carry little to no weight at all. Much like playing Guitar Hero on 'Easy' against someone who is on 'Expert' and totally kicking your butt. This isn’t because people don’t agree with me and don’t want to help me get my point across, it's because not enough of the right people do. You see, I believe personally that, say, Gay Marriage- we will use this example because it seems appropriate. If it were up to the general public, I have a feeling that Gay Marriage would be allowed, no, legal everywhere. But majority of the world doesn’t have millions of dollars to spend on supporting the cause. However just because I, and many other people in the world, want to make a difference- I’m not personally wealthy. I’m not completely heterosexual, either. Not 100% Caucasian, not Republican, nor, oh NO, dear Lord, don’t tell anyone!, believe every single word of 'The Bible', either. I’m doomed.
Many people will argue with me and tell me that I really have no room to complain. Maybe I don’t. I know I don’t, in fact. There are starving kids in Africa, and then all of the problems with Korea, and many others I am sure, yet here I am complaining about being a bisexual teenager with mixed thoughts on government and how it is being ran. But hey, sue me. I have a right to have beliefs and opinions don’t I? I personally believe that the government isn’t totally honest. I'm SORRY if I burst anyone's bubble with this essay, but I believe that my beliefs are the truth. People will look at this essay in the future, -actually, they probably wont- , and think that I was crazy for thinking and believing what I do today. That's nature's way, it always has been. But really, come on. I’m supposed to act like the fight for civil rights is over? I'm supposed to just blindly accept that global warming is only a myth? I should just wait around and believe that the government is totally trustworthy, leaning on social security’s future? Right. That would almost be funny enough to laugh at if I wasn’t so dead-beat serious. Lucky for me and a few others in this generation, I was raised outside of this mind-control matrix of helicopter parents and government magicians. However, the few of us intelligent ones left still have plenty of work cut out for ourselves... Convincing the rest of this generation that they, too, actually can and should think for themselves will be a feat all on it's own. I just hope they figure it out before the oil peaks, glaciers melt, and social security dries up. Do you kind of see what I mean now? We are just DOOMED.
Believe it or not, though, I’m actually pretty optimistic. I can laugh, for example, at those people we all see around wherever you live -we all know who they are- who smoke, but still at the same time, claim to be pro-life and against abortion. Ha! See? That is kind of funny to me. They get defensive when people confront them for what they do to their bodies, but they have no problem condemning what other people do to theirs. Hypocrites. This kind of hypocrisy is what I despise the most, but I also accept it. It inspires me. Despite all the odds, I believe there is hope. Hope for my generation and hope for a better world and future. And even if I don’t have all of my bearings in tact quite yet- I am only 17 after all- I still have the rest of my life to make an impact.
My Not-So-Sweet Sixteen
~theoneperson (deviantArt.com)
As I look into the doctor's eyes right now, I feel a sickeningly bitter feeling at the pit of my stomach. The doctor's heavy breathing was rhythmic, the only evidence that I wasn't alone.
My name is Gracia.
I am sweet sixteen. I grew up in a family where I never understood what love meant. My childhood was filled with "you are a curse" and "life would be better without you". I listen to my parents repeating this to me every single day, drilling it into my brain.
I was only a child. And they had destroyed my childhood.
I am sweet sixteen. When I was seven, I dropped a plate while drying it. My father came rushing in, cane in hand. He never gave me a chance to explain my self. He beat me up and picked up a piece of broken plate. He cut my arm with the broken glass. "You are useless," he said. My mother never took the time to clean my wound.
That day they left a scar in my heart
I am sweet sixteen. When I was twelve, I had to take an important exam the next day. One that would determine if I was to go to a good secondary school. Before I slept, I prayed that I would not be woken up by sounds of my parents screaming and fighting. Miraculously, I slept soundly that night. I woke up the next morning to find my mother crying on the sofa, she had a piece of paper in her hand. It is a divorce statement. My father had left us last night.
I wish I had been awake now.
I am sweet sixteen. At fourteen, I was an elite student. Hardworking and clever. I topped my level in three subjects and was chosen to go for an overseas exchange program. I came home with the application and showed it to my mother. She slapped me. She asked me why I thought she would spend so much money on me. "You are a curse," she cried.
I am a curse.
I am sweet sixteen. I celebrated my birthday yesterday. It was the happiest day of my life. I was finally an adult. I bought myself a sponge cake from the school canteen. My friends surrounded me and sang me birthday song. I blew out sixteen imaginary candles. Suddenly a thick, salty liquid started to flow from my mouth. It was blood. I was rushed to the hospital.
Blood?
I am sweet sixteen. And I have leukaemia. That explains my natural paleness and the fact that I am always so weak. Now I know, why I am a curse and why I am so useless. My parents didn't want to take responsibility for my sickness, they thought by not telling me, they would not be involved. This explains everything, my life, my childhood.
My everything.
I am sweet sixteen and I am going to die soon. Seven to eight days is all I have left. My childhood lasted for sixteen years and right now I was to make my first adult decision. I look up at the doctor and considered. I am useless just a bane to the rest of the world, an imperfection, god's cruel mistake.
"Doctor please let me sleep...."
As I look into the doctor's eyes right now, I feel a sickeningly bitter feeling at the pit of my stomach. The doctor's heavy breathing was rhythmic, the only evidence that I wasn't alone.
My name is Gracia.
I am sweet sixteen. I grew up in a family where I never understood what love meant. My childhood was filled with "you are a curse" and "life would be better without you". I listen to my parents repeating this to me every single day, drilling it into my brain.
I was only a child. And they had destroyed my childhood.
I am sweet sixteen. When I was seven, I dropped a plate while drying it. My father came rushing in, cane in hand. He never gave me a chance to explain my self. He beat me up and picked up a piece of broken plate. He cut my arm with the broken glass. "You are useless," he said. My mother never took the time to clean my wound.
That day they left a scar in my heart
I am sweet sixteen. When I was twelve, I had to take an important exam the next day. One that would determine if I was to go to a good secondary school. Before I slept, I prayed that I would not be woken up by sounds of my parents screaming and fighting. Miraculously, I slept soundly that night. I woke up the next morning to find my mother crying on the sofa, she had a piece of paper in her hand. It is a divorce statement. My father had left us last night.
I wish I had been awake now.
I am sweet sixteen. At fourteen, I was an elite student. Hardworking and clever. I topped my level in three subjects and was chosen to go for an overseas exchange program. I came home with the application and showed it to my mother. She slapped me. She asked me why I thought she would spend so much money on me. "You are a curse," she cried.
I am a curse.
I am sweet sixteen. I celebrated my birthday yesterday. It was the happiest day of my life. I was finally an adult. I bought myself a sponge cake from the school canteen. My friends surrounded me and sang me birthday song. I blew out sixteen imaginary candles. Suddenly a thick, salty liquid started to flow from my mouth. It was blood. I was rushed to the hospital.
Blood?
I am sweet sixteen. And I have leukaemia. That explains my natural paleness and the fact that I am always so weak. Now I know, why I am a curse and why I am so useless. My parents didn't want to take responsibility for my sickness, they thought by not telling me, they would not be involved. This explains everything, my life, my childhood.
My everything.
I am sweet sixteen and I am going to die soon. Seven to eight days is all I have left. My childhood lasted for sixteen years and right now I was to make my first adult decision. I look up at the doctor and considered. I am useless just a bane to the rest of the world, an imperfection, god's cruel mistake.
"Doctor please let me sleep...."
