Thoughts of the Insanely Genius,
or the Geniusly Insane, High School Student
Intro-
This page isn’t so much for you the reader, its for me, the writer. I made this page as a way for me to vent my feelings and thoughts. Then why post them on a web page you might ask. These thoughts are thoughts that I want to share with people, to get their response, but feel stupid, or can’t organize my thoughts enough to, tell you in person. When you really think about it, what is the point of publishing any opinionated essay? To have people see things from you point of view, and that is what I’m trying to get you to do, just see thing as I see them. These are just my opinions, my crazy ranodm thoughts, so I don’t want any offense taken to anything that I say. If you want to comment on anything that I’ve written email me at insanlygenius2000@yahoo.com. And if you find that you can relate to what I'm talking about, I would be more then happy to talk to you about anything. Thank you very much and I hope you enjoy my thoughts and opinions.
Entries
Honesty
Hello? You really here?
Genius?......or not?
11/11/02
Honesty
My school is very liberal. Ever since the first grade they have been preaching to us to speak our minds. People seem to follow this idea, but only to an extent. The idea of speaking your mind extends no further then the classroom. As soon as people leave their classes, they become the fakest people I have ever met. People lie about who they like, or simply deal with that person. But people at my school aren’t stupid. They see that people don’t like them, or they think that people don’t they do, and this is where the problem occurs. People are never sure whether people like them, or people are just to “nice” to admit that they don’t. So people start to second guess themselves, which is horrible. People think that they are saving people the pain of feeling rejected, and they are, but they’re not saving the pain of double guessing themselves, which is ten times worse. I would rather figure out who doesn’t like me and move on then second guess myself. Its okay for people to not like you, but it’s not okay for you to not like yourself. So if anybody thinks they’re being nice, they’re wrong, dead wrong. And if you’re reading this, and you know me, and you don’t like me, then please tell me. I really want to know. You should tell everybody who you don’t like that you don’t like them. Because then they can move on, and you will both be better off. Be honest about your feelings; don’t hide them, because although you think you are being nice, you are really just dragging out the pain.
11/04/02
Hello? You really here?
We have five senses, smell, taste, hearing, touch, and sight. Now imagine that have none of these senses, that we are sensually deprived. The world would not exist. Nobody would have any proof that a speck of dust, or a tree, or anything was even there. So now I wonder what happens to that piece of dust floating in the air right in front of my face when I turn around. I can see it’s there now, but when I turn away, turn all of my senses away, to me it doesn’t exist. So really how do I know that the laws of gravity and physics still apply? Have you ever watched the way the wind flows in your house? Have you ever watched a tiny speck of nothingness float through the air? It’s amazing to me to think about all the forces of the world, and how they supposedly never stop. But how can that be? How can every dust particle in the world still float to the ground in the same lazy random fashion that they do when I’m staring at them in by basement. Are people trying to tell me that there has never been some random dust particle in some random forest in the middle of Burma that hasn’t just decided to defy gravity and fly straight up and into space? But proof, where is the proof? There is none. And that simple idea of uncertainty throws off the whole concept that things really exist when I’m not there. What proof do I have? None, because if I do, then I’d have to be sensually aware of it, which isn’t what I’m trying to find, I’m trying to find what it does when I’m not sensually aware of it. So we’re stuck in Catch-22. But I guess in a way its good that I have no proof that anything exists, including you. How do I know that anybody will really read this? How do I know that you even exist right now as I right this? As of right now (11/5/02 at 7:50:13 PM EST) there are 6,254,322,460 people in the world. 6,254,322,460, that’s a huge number. If you were to comprehend the fact that every one of those people exist, you would be overwhelmed by our insignificance. Just think about you and me, forget the rest of the world. Think of everything that you have though about and done everyday. Think about all the random things that don’t matter. Supposedly everybody it the world does these things too. Every second of everyday every person in the world has a thought, similar to the one that you just had. And in that one second, all the people in the world combined live more then you will in three lifetimes. Our life doesn’t matter. Nobody is famous enough to be known by everybody. Our life is just one tiny speck of time in comparison to the lives of all the people who have ever traversed this planet, not to mention this universe. So when you really think about it, what the point of being nice? What’s the point of going to school? And that in itself is the whole point. Our lives don’t matter. Chances are whatever we do in life won’t be remembered. So fuck it, it doesn’t matter what we do in life. Our lives mean shit, so why the fuck not make the most of it?
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10/27/2002
Genuis?......or not?
People have been telling me that I’m a genius for my entire life. Not only my parents, they don’t count because they have to tell me that, but most of my friends too. All throughout my middle school years I was a slacker, I did no work, but I still got by easily with B’s, and this caused my friends to see me as a genius, and I’ve never had any reason to disagree with them. But now I’m starting my freshman year in high school, and now I realize that I can no longer slack off. The grades that I get this year matter, for a change. And now I find that I’m doubting how smart I am, because I’m trying, and still getting B+’s; an improvement, but I thought that I could be and A student if I tried. This has me a little shaken, questioning my intelligence, my geniusness. Then it hit me, what is my definition of genius, and why do people think that I deserve this title? I sit through my classes, and watch people be proud of, and be praised for, answers to questions that I new the answer to, and had already thought about, before the question was even asked. But I still get B’s. Then my answer came to me. There are people in my grade who work there ass of all day long to get A’s. And people call them smart. But anybody can be an A student if they try hard enough, the ones who stand out are the ones who do it without trying. Me. But how smart can a person be who is clearly capable of getting A’s, yet is still getting B’s. Thinking back, people call me stupid whenever I come in and haven’t done my homework for no good reason. In that regard, I may be the stupidest person on the planet. So people think I’m a genius because I understand things so quickly, even though I have horrid study skills, I’m still smart to them. And that is one of the key lessons I’ve learned in my first quarter in high school; it doesn’t matter what other people think. I’ve let people calling me a genius for so many years go to my head, but, no offense, it doesn’t matter. I won’t truly deserve that title until I agree. Until that time, I will always know I can do better, the challenge is, doing better...
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