Hmmm... yes, I am alive.

It felt wonderful to go outside and walk a few feet to the store and purchase my beloved Dr. Pepper. It's not that I am glad that I have a carbonated drink that has sugar, corn syrup, and caffeine, but I am glad that I was outside on such a gorgeous day. What also felt great was smiling and saying "hello, how are you?" to the cashier. "It's $1.19, isn't it?" "No, Coke is $1.09. Pepsi is $1.19." "Hmm, how odd," I said as I threw exact change onto the counter. "Have a nice day." "You too."

Conversation, as well as letter writing, is a lost art. There is not much emphasis nor time spent on the content of literature, writing, thought, nor discussions. Very often is our society focused on the visual presentation and superficial aspects of things which take up more space in our minds and less time.

I am terrible at communicating, which is probably the reason why many of the relationships I attempt to have fail. I wish to improve, though everyone else is focused on artifical communication through the means of telephone, e-mail, instant messaging, and cell phones. These are mere distractions and prevent a more indepth and thought provoking conversation.

I felt awkward as I allowed my body to clumsily move to the rap that was played at the Saturday night dance during SWC's concelvette, especially since I was the only one to make a fool out of myself. I had forgotten how fun it is to dance... it is quite enjoyable.

The conclevette was rather "sketchy" (popular slang among NFTYites). Our temple youth group advisor and I both noticed an extreme negativity in the air. Although the high schoolers were friendly, they were very clicky and excluding because everyone knew each other. Many of the TYGs were from Conneticut and New York. HEFTY, on the other hand, drove three and a half hours from the northern border of Massachusettes to the middle of Conneticut.

The host family had ten adolescent females in their basement. During the two hours of free time, everyone was using their cellphones or going online. How ridiculous is that? No one has an actual face-to-face conversation anymore. Where are our interpersonal communication skills?

What bothers me about the Jewish youth group is how much gossip there is. Everyone wants to know each other in order to "hook up". Does anyone care about religion and spirituality?

I need to stay away from the internet and learn how to live, how to appreciate life, how to enjoy myself.

Again I slipped between the seats of Lawrence's vehicle, though this time my mom was walking the dog in the rain and I'm afraid that the only reason she took the dog for a walk was because she was searching for me. I left a note saying that I was at Chris's... but Chris moved back to NYC a few months ago.

I felt like I was slipping away from the life I was living when I was pulled into His arms, that I was embraced by a security blanket.. warm, always there... and something that I need. Something beckoned me to look into His eyes... yet something also pulled me back into the dark, wet, frightening reality. Always is there a battle between mind and heart.

I need to surrender to the love that I can no longer fight.

Also, Ari's performing at UMass Amherst's Fine Arts Center, A Chorus Line, on April 17th, 18th, and 19th. He is like the Lord of Dance on stage.. leaving everyone in awe.

Why is it extremely difficult to think before reacting, to question impulses, and to interrogate what is spoon fed? Thinking is painful, though the pain is what is needed to open my eyes. I have slept through life long enough and I must endure the truth.

It is no wonder that I feel numb and empty.

ShadowsCircle's Xanga Site

I am disappointed with myself.

As usual, I am very influenced by Mr. McMahon's class. We were discussing personal filters, how many lack one. Like a window, you open it; the screen keeps the bugs and what not from entering while the breeze and fresh air, the goodness, filters through. He also referred to the mind as personal property and we allow whoever into ourselves and they, being disrespectful, leave their beer bottles and dog shit. If we only allowed those who would be respectful to enter, we wouldn't be filled with trash.

My filter has a large gap in it. I have allowed the media to influence my behavior instead of the truth and have also allowed people to abuse my mind, especially via the internet.

I have low standards because high standards are difficult to maintain, if ever reached. I desire to change.. but I don't allow myself to. Change is hard and I'm lazy.