I'm finally emotionally stressed enough to write a blog post, why am I happy about that?

It's been a while since I last made a blog post, it's been a while since I was last emotionally stressed enough to even feel the need. I've been content enough not to care, content enough to survive in the face of all these stressful assignments I don't really care for. The idea of being pressured to be more than an academic automaton has only been made harder by the assigning of tons of homework; this irony is hardly lost on me. The whole concept is having our cake and eating it too, and we have too much homework to do before we can even think of eating it.

Pushing this hypocrisy aside, I've still become more resilient in the face of stress. I'm a lot more laid back in terms of homework, a lot like my sophomore year self in a way. The difference is, my sophomore year self originally became so out of defiance, while I've currently become so out of desire for peace. Seems only natural that a personality originally brought forth out of hell should have the purpose of raising it, if only the first time around.

I find myself writing this not out of homework stress, but simply the pain of existential angst. When it comes to this topic, everyone pretty much knows exactly what I mean. It's that pit of darkness in your heart, that pit that threatens to devour you every time you feel a little bit sad. It's that knowledge that your life is all for nothing and no matter what, you'll probably end up alone. Depressing, ain't it? I certainly think so. The best solution for this, as Louis C.K. says, is to cry your guts out and let yourself get over it. A painful solution for a painful problem. Then again, if you really want a good solution to pain, another good one is the sight of an adorably tiny kitten trying to eat it's own little furry tail.

I laugh in the face of people who think it's strong women who emasculate men

My pain extends to the usual college stress as well, what with my parents pressuring me about it as if my very existence depends on it. SATs and ACTs and stuff I really don't give a shit about, and what with school stress getting to me, I've been made progressively more lazy and depressed and I have even less of a will to concern myself with them. With this I'll also delve into the recurring issue of posting under my own name, which my mother seems to think is 'obscene' and will make colleges and businesses not like me. Over and over this issue comes up, and over and over I come up with the exact same counterargument every time: Can we ever have a president who grew up in the internet age? Game, set, and match....again.

"Anyone who thinks we're all going to spend the 2032 elections poring over rambling blog posts by teenagers has never tried to read a rambling blog post by a teenager"

Randall Munroe's never met me, but he sure seems to know who I am

With this I proceed to resume my life, and to wrap up the long (or rather short) rant I've been typing out for you to read and enjoy. Some of my little gags in here are subtle, some of them are not, and sometimes it's just mildly witty and not a gag at all, and just another pointless way to express myself. The fact that I can type a seemingly random combination of words and control your emotions is mind-blowing. In a way I enjoy this pain, not like a cutter, but like a romantic. I'm lucky to be alive, I'm lucky to feel this pain, I'm lucky to be human. All of this existence that we all trudge through, all of this pain we feel, it's just another way of being human.

My body aches, my eyes burn, and my nose is stuffy. Spring is in full force. Everyone assumes that winter is when there are the most suicides, but it's actually spring, which is completely understandable. In winter you don't feel a need to kill yourself because you know however much you're suffering, everyone else is suffering, too. In the spring, however, we forget that and naturally assume because it's warmer, everyone else is happier, except for us. if there's one thing about suicidal people, it's that they feel like they're alone, even if they're not. When convincing someone not to kill themselves, you need to let them know that they're not alone. They're not the only ones suffering. Everyone suffers, it's a part of being human. "Welcome to the human race" (I'll be glad if anyone gets that Person Of Interest ref, because I couldn't find the video on YouTube).

This suffering I live through I'm glad to feel, because no matter how dead I may feel, the pain of existing always lets me know that I'm alive.