The Fault in Our Stars

"Sometimes, you read a book and it feels you with a weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read that book"

Oddly, enough its the book itself that puts into words just how I feel about the book. The Fault in Our Stars is such a rarity to me, one of those books that speak to me. Everyday, hundreds of books are published and the amount of books that exist in this world is well past the billions. But somehow, every now and then, you'll come across these deep jewels that you want to treasure forever, it's like finding a needle in the haystack. There are so many good books out there but there are rare few that really get you, that really entrance you in a way that no other can. This book is one of those rare few. 

The Fault in Our Stars is told from the point of view of  Hazel, a sixteen you girl who has lung cancer and her story of how she falls in love with a boy named Augustus, who also has cancer. They also both, have a friend, Isaac, who has cancer as well. With so many people with cancer there's bound to be one who dies, and there is. I sincerely thought it was going to be Hazel, but about halfway through the book, when she really started to fall in love then I just knew it was going to be Augustus who died. And that's it, I completely and totally expected it, and yet, I still cried like a baby when it happened.

First off, I adore how Hazel and Augustus's love is. I love any story about young love that isn't vapid, half-seen, or considered puppy love. Too many adults in this world see young love as 'puppy love' and therefore make it hard to see that there can be a wholesome and truly pure love among the young. I think age is no defining factor in whether love is true or not. And the way John Green presents the two, how much they understand each other and how the faults are healed by each other, it gives me all the hope in the world to believe that love is out there and it is true. It really exists. 

Also, in this book both Augustus and Hazel seek out a writer who wrote their favorite book about a girl with cancer who died, mid-sentence, at the end of the book. They even go as far as traveling to Europe to meet him. But it turns out he is a lazy bum of a drunk, and they learn later that he was that way because his daughter had cancer and died. He wrote the book for her and when they came and pestered him about questions it reared up in him too much pain and he was quite the douche bag. The brilliant thing about the writer in this book, he says that pain demands to be felt, and I think he's somehow wallowing in all the pain and forgetting that even though pain will be felt, happiness that can be felt will outweigh all that pain. And honestly, the most emotional moment for me in the entire book is when the writer shows up to Augustus's funeral. He came to explain his behavior, sort of, and explain his thoughts on the book and why he wrote it, though, not the answers Hazel truly wants.

The best thing about John Green, in all his works, is that his thoughts on the world are so unique and beautiful. It's just, he sees things in such a clear way. Let's face it, most writers now a days have the typical thoughts of pain. God, I'm even one of those writers, and I'm waiting for the day when my brain will somehow think outside of the box. And John, he always does. If you haven't read this book, I suggest you do. It's just, simply one of the best books I've read in my life.

And also, it helped me, with the blog I posted the other day, about just writing. Honestly, I think it's the thing that knocked me over. I had been thinking about it forever but when I finished the book I was like, this is what I want to do. I want to write, I want to create literary masterpieces like this. Which is odd, considering the book isn't much about following your dreams. It's about existing, living, death, human interactions, and just life. Life is so lovely sometimes, and painful, but still great. It's a great expanse that we all have to go through and no matter we will always be connected in that one way. John Green captures that.

-Fin

Keshia

#12/100 Books in 2012: War of Worlds by H.G. Wells

I decided to just write.

 

If you type writing into Google the first suggestion is the Wikipedia page which tells you that writing is ' the representation of language in a textual medium through the use of set signs or symbols.' In other words, some jumbled definition set by the world. Writing is passion. Writing is taking everything you see and do and trying  to fit it into to words to make sense of this crazy world we live in. Writing is the one thing I'm sure I'm going to do for the rest of my life.

For the past two years of my life if you asked what I plan on doing with my college career then I would tell you, 'Double major in Education/English with a focus on Creative Writing, oh and a minor in Theater' and I usually I follow up with but really I would just love to write. And, I mean, after a few years of doing this I have to ask myself, now why do I plan on teaching when in reality I just want to write? Well here's the deal, there's no promise for a career in writing. So if I taught English then I could try to write books while doing it. There's also this, teaching seems like it would be fun, and it'd give me a way to touch someone's life. But really, I'd rather touch someone while uprooting some emotion and make them think about the world through writing. I'd rather do that than just teach them things. I'd like teaching, but I'd never truly be passionate about it.

Basically, it's come down to this. I just want to write, read, and perform for the rest of my life. So I'm not going to teach anymore. I'm going to just do what I'm passionate about even if that means working hourly paid jobs, living in a shitty apartment, and eating ramen for the rest of my life. I'm going to do it so I can write. 

So, Keshia, what are going to do in college?

'English Creative Writing Major with Minor in Theatre'

And that's it, I'm resolute, because I'm happy now. I feel so liberated, it's a brilliant thing, to know that you're going to live the rest of your life doing something you love.

Fin

-Keshia 

#10/100 Books in 2012: The Borrowers

Montevallo Memories

This past weekend (well, no, the weekend before that) I went with a group of friends to Montevallo, my future college. We got to participate in College Night and see the incredible tradition and beauty of the school, in short, it was an amazing experience.

I remember first hearing about Montevallo from Eric Browne my sophomore year. He told us about he and his friend doing the 'Poof' symbol at the Montevallo sign and after that I was bombarded the next three years with stories from him. His Alma Mater meant everything. I never considered it even a possibility for my college (even though it made the most perfect sense, it's a liberal arts college and my planned major is English/Creative Writing) until last year amid all the Mike/Mom drama. Ironically enough it was the college that offered me the second largest scholarship. Oh, how I wish I could go back to the night in my room where I looked at all my scholarships and turned them down. Sometimes I think if I would've just changed that one moment then things would've been fine. But let's no go into my regrets. Basically, somehow Montevallo became my premiere choice for a college when I came back to Alabama. To be honest I chose it because of my friends, and I'm sure that's a stupid reason to most people but I want to surround myself by people who I'm sure at least half like me and whom I all love. I see nothing wrong with it. And besides, I somehow realized that the only reason I ever wanted to go to Troy was for that label of  "The Sound of the South" marching band and the grandiose idea I had about it. Okay, let's not lie, Troy Marching Band is grand but when it's longed up with a line of comparable reasons, it's not grand enough, at least not for me.

But back to Montevallo, College Night is 97 year old tradition with the entire school split in half of purple and golds and compete with each other in a friendly yet extremely competitive attitude. I , of course, plan on being a purple, I'm sure, along with the small army that Eric Browne has encouraged to go there. (And also if we weren't purples then he would like be-head us or something). The part that we got to watch was the big part, the musicals written, composed, and performed by students. It was incredible and thrilling, definitely nothing I've seen before. And it's just that whole weekend, the whole sense of unity and family I felt there (with purple and gold) was overwhelming. I knew Montevallo was the only place for me. This would be home for at least the next four years of my life (now if I could have seen that in Nov. 2010, dammit!).

Not to mention that the weekend was amply provided with great friends, silly dancing, and lots of picture takings (all of which I recorded in the above video). There was also the usual teenage drama and confrontation couple with an awesome college party where I danced the night away. Oh, how you know I'm a fan of dancing the night away. PV parties overcome teenage immaturity any day.

Fin
-Keshia

#10/100 Books in 2012: The Borrowers

Imagine

"It is easy to forget how full the world is of people, full to bursting, and each of them imaginable and consistently misimagined."

First off, above all, I would like to say how much John Green is a genius. I seriously do not know how his books aren't the popular things in the store, sure, they're popular, but if anyone paid any real sort of attention then they would know, he deserves more then popular, he deserves to have his name carved in stone.

So, this quote, it ignited something in me. It's easy to say I'm not one to blog much, as I write in my journal everyday (although, as of late, I've gone on a three day no writing binge--I feel like I'm dying, I also feel lazy as a sloth) I pretty much have the get my emotions out through words thing kind of done.  But sometimes, in those super flexes of emotion I like to blog. Sometimes, I can let my frustration out in one sentence. It helps, though probably confuses the rest of the populace. I'm trying to remember why I started this blog in the first place. The first thoughts were that I started it to show my friends how I see the world. But really, no, I hate it. When someones mentions that they've read my blog (although , believe me, the number is quite few) I run and hide. At first, I didn't realize this. Then it hit me like a dodge ball to the face,'Keshia, this is the internet! This is your life!'  And of course that's when I knew that this was to be judged. You, my dear blog, are nothing like my journal which is the portal  to all that is me. Paper is not prejudice, people are. Not that I really planned on turning you into what my journal was, you were just meant to be a watered down, more mellow version of it. But apparently, even that version of it is something that can be taken the wrong way. But even with this, with the fear that I'm erroneously wrong and people right now are reading and thinking, 'God, she's annoying' (but really, is anyone out there anyway?) I'm going to continue keeping you. And maybe present you more like a real blog, that is at least sometimes written in, and not just when I'm in a highly emotional state. Because apparently, my high emotions equals that I am bad, but somehow, and I honestly have no idea of a better way to put this; 'I don't give a fuck!'

But this quote, it brings me all back to the situation of this blog. You see, John Green grasped unto something here that pulled a chord in me and sent a note reverberating through the walls of me ( my soul? I don't know, I'm not trying to sound like I'm completely going for poetry here). Somehow, that's my view on humans. In my FB profile, I say something along the lines of why can't we just all get along as we're all just people struggling on in this world, I'm pretty sentimental sometimes. John Green, on the other hand, is a very prolific man and puts this concept into words more elegantly than me. Not exactly the same concept, though, just something of a similar sort. And of course his words could be interpreted several different ways--as the words of any great author should.

It's just, I don't know, I think we all sometimes forget. We all have these images of each other in our head, that could change from a time to time depending on our actions. But how are we ever sure that these are real. The 'right' images are just the 'misimagined'.  You could imagine someone of a horrible person when in truth they are a great person, or vise versa.  Sometimes, I believe we are right, though. A mean person is a mean person. (And as Taylor Swift would ask, 'Why you gotta be so mean?') But really, have you ever though about the views of the other person in question. There is no person who doesn't have an opinion on anything. Never let people lie to  you, it's human nature, everyone has an opinion about everything. And John Green captures that. The world is full to bursting of people. All these people who go about that day and form these imaginations about you and every other person on the planet. And yet, these are all half wrong and all half right. But yet it happens, and everyone does it, that's not many who can't deny that they don't. 

Really, I'm going for no point at all here, I have none at all. it's just incredible to me how often people forget that we all exist, and we all try to exist. 

As Josh Wheddon (another brilliant man) once phrased in a Buffy episode, "The hardest thing to do in this world is live in it". And that is true, so true. Only you, selfish person, can't think it's only you. It's everyone living in this world, knowing and changing--thinking or not thinking of others. We are a world of imagined and misimagined.

-Fin

Keshia

#8/100 Books in 2012: Miss Peregine's Home for Peculiar Children

Restless?

It's a new year and I'm supposed to be all new and fixing things. I can't think straight anymore.

Because...

There's something I really want to post right now, but I can't. I know people will judge me. Sometimes, I hate humans.Why do we judge someone so harshly on their actions? Can't we just understand each other. Uggghh, emotions....hard stuff. I shouldn't think too much.

I can't say what I want to say here. I just want to say that I wish people would't judge me on MY life. They can have their ways, but don't try to say MY ways are wrong.

Fin.

Stonewall Keshia

Okay, so honesty time here. The first movie I ever cried during was the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. I was about thirteen years old and Bailey was dying. The thing that I still don't get today is that I knew it was coming; I had been the one who had read the book series a year before and dragged my mom and sister out to the movies theater to watch the movie. I knew Bailey was going to die. But yet, it took me by surprise and it made my heart clench. When Bailey tried on the pants and recorded the message for her, I felt like I was dying too. So I cried, like I was a little baby again, and the screen in front of me went blurry. After that I cried at a lot of movies and series. I cried during one of my favorite animes because the ending was so happy. I even cried during Ice Princess.
The thing about crying in public during movies, books, or TV shows is that it just happens. In any other situation in life where I cry, whether I'm upset or angry, I can feel my tears coming. My chin will shake and my eyes will burn, I know I'm gonna cry. Most of the time it gives me a good warning and I have time to abandon ship and run away. But when I cry over things like movies I never know it's gonna happen. I never feel it and most of the time I'm surprised when tears start to run down my face. Crying like that is like a whole new emotion built up inside of me that just comes spilling out. And what I don't get it that when I cry like that it feels the most surreal, the most prominent of pure tears and yet it's always over fictional characters. It's over a world that's not real.
Back then is when I first got the idea in my head that any work of fiction that can move me to tears must be something that is brilliant. Anything that brings out that emotion in me must be great. I still believe that today.
But I was younger then, and now it's different. The only two movies I've allowed myself to publicly cry during in the last two years have been Toy Story 3 and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. One, because it was a literal interpretation growing up, and the other because I literally felt like my childhood was dying. And I really hated crying during those movies, I really did. I hated that unknown emotion in me that came out.
Somewhere along my path of life I decided I wanted to be a stonewall. No emotion. I'm not sure when it happened, only that I wanted it and I still want it. To me, it makes no sense to be a stone wall, but it also makes no sense to have emotions.
Most of the world sees emotions as stupid, whether they want to admit it or not. If a teenage girl is crying over her boyfriend who just dumped her, well that's stupid. If a wife is crying over her husband who is dying of cancer, well it's not. What I don't understand are the different levels of emotions, the different levels of grief. In what moments are you justified to cry? Who judges that, really? Can't a human being just be sad when they want to be sad and happy when they want to be happy? It's not like we're all carbon copies, it's not like you stab us once and we all cry. Some people can be stabbed 1000 times and not shed a tear and others can fall apart at the slightest touch. That's actually one of the few things that has pisses me off most in the world. I've been told, on more than one occasion, that I need to get on medicine to control my emotions. And all I can think when people tell me that is what the fuck? Really, are emotions not allowed anymore? I just don't get it. Would the world rather me be a person who has emotions and cares about things or a person who is a stonewall and doesn't give a shit. Because, I always seemed to be pulled in two opposite directions, and no matter how hard I try I can't find a middle ground. I have no urge to find a middle ground.
I know that's one of the reasons I love acting. With acting you have to be dramatic, you have to have emotions. That's why it's called drama. And no one will judge you for that, you're being a character. Someone who is allowed to have emotions. No one things wrong of you for that, they just enjoy the performance.
There's a lot I don't understand about emotions. I don't even know how to act half the time. Actually more than half. What does the world expect of me and what do I even expect of myself? How would I even know what I expect of myself  when I've lived in a world for eighteen years who tells me the opposite of everything everyday.
Emotions. You didn't make flag captain. You're stupid, a failure, not smart enough to get anywhere in this world. A selfish bitch. You got a lead role. Other people are better than you. You need to quit band. You have to change yourself for me. We're moving, you choose what you want. Wrong decisions, idiot. You fucked up, ruined everything. Can you be anymore stupid? Senior Superlative. I'm dissapointed in you. The only person in this world you care about is yourself. I'm proud of you. You're getting away from them, the only white sheep in the family of black sheep. We all love you. You graduated. You have no choice but say goodbye. You're free, have fun. I don't want to be your friend anymore. You can't live here anymore. You can't go to college anymore. You fucked up your life, I told you not to cry to me. What's your problem. Why?Why?Why? We all  missed you, so much. Never leave again. I really like you. What's your purpose in life? Why did you do this to yourself? Do you ever think about other people? Selfish Bitch.
Someone told me that they don't think anyone ever understands themselves. I know I don't and I'm years away, and I probably won't for the rest of my life.

Fin.