The mind is a dangerous place and as a former hopeless nihilist I feel I have earned the right to say that. The worst part about thoughts is that they don’t stop. It can be torturous to spend a single protracted moment in your mind when every thought is weaponized in some way to be destructive. The psychological degradation brought on by a depressed mind is exhausting. Every thought drags you deeper into the pit until your mental breaks and you give up.
I was lucky enough to break this seemingly endless loop by repressing emotion and taking away meaning and depth from every emotional outlet. My past statement of being a former nihilist was a lie, however I am no longer a hopeless nihilist. I’m just a person who copes with stress and anxiety by believing nothing should make me stressed or anxious because it lacks meaning and worth. I understand this might not sound like a valid process of thoughts as people will question my morals around every corner, however, I assure you, I have decent morals. As well as many other decent qualities. Greatest of all though, the biceps. The biceps s h r e d, and that among other things boost my dopamine levels giving me dreams and ambitions to quickly acquire. Finding something, anything interesting would lead me to want to try, learn, and quit. However some dreams in my head take a long time to learn. These thoughts of my future give me ambition to live an active and fulfilling life. I found reason along the ashes of self destruction.
Sometimes I just want to sock someone in the nose. I obviously mean this statement figuratively but sometimes I get so riled up over things so stupid. I don’t mean I’m a little b*!/h that cries over everything, but I feel that a lot of stupid stuff happens to me. These emotions that are evoked from my pissed off self may define who I am to some people, however to me the way I deal with said frustrations defines who I am. Sometimes I eat, other times I try to wack golf balls as hard as possible, but most importantly I “sweep it out the door”. This is my twist on the common phrase of “sweeping it under the rug,” however I changed it for myself. I feel that sweeping the dirt under the rug implies its kept there and can’t be erased or forgotten, however under my rug there is an endless pit. There’s nothing going on back there, its void, null. There is no backstage or backstage party, once I sweep it behind the curtain its gone. I simply forget my emotion and uneasiness, what better coping mechanism could there be? In retrospect this may be destructive and it is obviously stupid to neglect self reflection, but hey at least I’m happy.
Recently a rule implanted by a tyrannical government has been put into action, outlawing the use of earbuds on campus. This ban on earbuds keeps students from using them on campus, supposedly because students wearing earbuds are unaware of their surroundings when walking around, they cannot engage with their peers, and they are worn in classes and become a distraction. This rule is B.S. Over the past three and a half years, I have been wearing earbuds on campus. Of course I followed safety precautions such as having one earbud out and playing my music on medium volume so I could hear cars and people talking. Not once have I had a close call with a car or any sort of traffic, I am constantly aware of the movement of the people around me, and I consistently engage in conversations with my classmates. This year nothing has changed except for me being interrupted mid sentence to take out my earbuds when sitting and enjoying a conversation with my friends, or even having my earbuds taken away when I was talking to my classmates outside of class while the teacher was setting up. This useless rule has only hindered me in my day to day existence. My music is important to me.
I understand I sound like a madman complaining about not being able to wear earbuds at school, however listening to music affects my mood and the way I act. Music relaxes me, it distracts me from anxiously tapping my feet or getting lost in my head and spacing out. Music benefits me academically. Which is why I fail to comprehend how a rule as dumb as this one has come to fruition. I hope to argue and eventually abolish this hindrance to student quality of life by fighting and following in the footsteps of freedom fighters of the past such as Martin Luther King Jr. or Malala Yousafzi. I will not be stopped by an impregnable wall of authority. I will persevere.
As I joined the workforce over summer I found an underlying passion for making smoothies. From the outside smoothies seem basic and boring; but once I was introduced into the world of smoothie making my eyes were opened for the first time in my life. A good smoothie is defined by a smooth texture and an even yet diverse flavor profile. I mastered my techniques while working full time at a deli, juggling responsibilities and multiple orders at a time, while still sanctioning my control over every ingredient and the overall texture of the cool beverage. In the end, smoothie making taught me to keep a level head through adversity.