Failure, it hurts. It stares you in the face, punches you in the gut, and laughs at you while you curl into a little ball trying to get your breath back.
I honestly think that this year, I've had more failures than successes. I wrecked it with Colin. I'm not doing well in my classes. I'm not first chair oboe. I had the worst last marching band show of my life (it was at Bands of America Grand Nationals in Indianapolis, and I couldn't play to save my life- i forgot parts, botched timing, and just generally sucked D: ). I'm at least a week behind in NaNoWriMo. And overall, I'm just not where I want to be.
Senior year, I wanted to be wildly popular. I wanted everyone to love me. I'd be such a drastic opposite from who I was as a freshman- I'd turn myself around and it would be great. Underclassmen would kiss the ground I walked on, teachers would adore me, I'd make my parents so damn proud, everyone would be calling me up to hang out all the time, and Colin would wish he hadn't dated Kelsey...
But you know what? We don't learn the most from succeeding; we learn the most from failing. From failing, and from trying again and again to learn how to get it right. If everything was perfect, we'd have nothing to perfect.
It hurts, but I'm learning. You have to hit rock bottom before you can spring off from anything.
11.13.2011
a post about failure.
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Hello!
Wow, you really read all that? Danggg. Props! =]
Well, I see you've just had the imponderable joy of stumbling onto the blog of an 18-year-old girl who can't really describe herself in 500 words or less, such as in little text boxes like these. She didn't intend her blog to really become so much like her online diary (she was hoping it would have an interesting, helpful purpose to serve the world and all) but blogging is just kind of fun. This girl's a bit of an environmentalist and a full-tilt vegetarian, a bit of an artist who can't draw, a bit of a writer who can't find time to read, and a completely hopeless romantic. She enjoys white chocolate, coloring, wading in creeks, music, Doctor Who, and speaking in third-person when it's unnecessary like this.
Now go read the rest of the blog and meet her, if you like of course. :)
Well, I see you've just had the imponderable joy of stumbling onto the blog of an 18-year-old girl who can't really describe herself in 500 words or less, such as in little text boxes like these. She didn't intend her blog to really become so much like her online diary (she was hoping it would have an interesting, helpful purpose to serve the world and all) but blogging is just kind of fun. This girl's a bit of an environmentalist and a full-tilt vegetarian, a bit of an artist who can't draw, a bit of a writer who can't find time to read, and a completely hopeless romantic. She enjoys white chocolate, coloring, wading in creeks, music, Doctor Who, and speaking in third-person when it's unnecessary like this.
Now go read the rest of the blog and meet her, if you like of course. :)
2 comments:
I was worried about you. I was worried right until that bottom bit. You're hopeful. You're seeing things right. Give up the writing. Really. You may feel like you failed in that. But you won't be. You'll be succeeding in giving yourself a schedule you can manage. Make yourself in-depth agendas every morning before school (on the way if you get driven). And cut down only to what needs to be done. Homework first, babe. You need to keep that GPA up. Okays? It's okay to fail. That's part of what has fucked me over so hard: I'm too afraid to let anyone know I'm slipping. Be honest. Tell people when you feel like you're drowning. And we'll pull you up.
Thank you so much for reminding me of that. Ever since I moved out, it feels like my failures are constantly being monitored. And the more I mess up, the more likely I am to fail again. Although I have definitely learned a ton of things this past year, it really gets exhausting having everyone on my case about the next big thing. So I feel as though everyone has to know every little detail about even the smallest thing that I manage to do right just so they know I am trying. Sorry for the rant, I am just so happy that someone can relate.
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