The Honesty Blog

 People say that patience is a virtue, but I think that honesty is much more important. Granted, as human being-and a teenage one, at that- I'm not always completely honest. I think that it's rare that I'm ever completely, 100% honest with anyone. Why is that? Why can't I talk to people, unafraid to say what's really on my mind? Sometimes, I feel like I'm even editing my thoughts. I try to keep myself from thinking a certain way, or about specific things. It's almost like I don't want to hear my thoughts. I don't want to face who I really am, alone and honestly.

Don't get me wrong, I love myself. I don't have any self-esteem, body image, or self-acceptance issues. But sometimes I just don't think that I'm completely fair or appropriate or what-have you. Sometimes, I surprise myself with  my thoughts. They're wild things-things I wouldn't expect I am capable of thinking. And I suppose that's why I'm not always honest with people, isn't it?  I don't want them to know everything about me, how I think and what I think. I don't want them to know I were really am.

But if I'm clipping myself-editing out the parcels of my character that I don't want other people to see... am I still that un-clipped, unedited person? Or have I become the new and improved, mature, appropriate, likable person? Is it healthy to be dishonest in this way? I don't even know if it counts as being dishonest. Is not telling the truth lying? But then again, if I were to be completely honest, nobody would like me. They'd find me to be a crude, unkind, immature, perverted, materialistic, needy, perverse girl. So would it really be better if I were completely honest?

Both Eugene, the main character in Brighton Beach Memoirs by Neil Simon, and Holden, the main character in the book The Catcher in the Rye by J.D Salinger, made me question honesty. Both characters often said what was honestly on their minds, never keeping a single perverted, unkind thought to themselves. As a result, I think it was easy for me to more than a little bit uncomfortable reading some parts of these books. I didn't like knowing what was really on these character's minds. Even though all their thoughts were natural, they were almost too honest. At the same time, their sincerity and honesty made these characters so real. I found myself relating to these characters. The writers dived straight into the mind of a pubescent boy, writing without hiding a single thing. And that's what I think made me love these books so much-even if sometimes I felt like I was hearing too much, the characters were totally relate-able.

But as much as I was able to relate to these characters, the other people that they interacted with in their books seemed unable to. These brutally honest boys seemed lonely, misunderstood, and disliked by the people around them. Why is that? Why don't the supporting characters like these totally honest people? Have these characters been hurt by Holden and Eugene's honesty? Does the truth, indeed hurt? I'm sure we can all say that we've been hurt by someones honesty. Perhaps being honest all the time would also end up hurting people all the time. At the same time, don't lies hurt people as well? Which is better?

Even if these characters seem to prove that honesty can be harmful and isolating, I read something recently that makes me think otherwise. Last week I was reading 36 Assumptions about playwriting by Jose Rivera, which is basically a list of things that make plays wonderful. One of the first things on this list was that a writer should hide nothing in their writing. It's important to be completely honest when one writes. A reader can tell when writing is authentic; that something is wrong. So if in the literate world, honesty is good, why is it that in the real world it seems that honest can cause trouble?

Maybe it's not the honesty, but what the honesty reveals. In being honest, we expose to the world all of our flaws. Perhaps, if we we'rent as flawed; if we were better, more respectable people, our honesty would not be a problem. Honesty can be good. And perhaps Rivera was only speaking about writing. Perhaps, it's okay to lie once in a while. Maybe it's better that I'm not 100% honest, 100% of the time. I think what Rivera was trying to say was that when you write, you have to write with your heart. Write what you feel-don't just write what you're told to write. And I think that this applies to life, too. Be honest-do what you feel is right, not what you're told is right. Of course, that doesn't mean that you should go about breaking every rule.  Overall, honesty is good. An honest person is good. But an honest person also knows when NOT to say something. They will keep things hidden, because if you expose everything, you will become a Holden, a Eugene. You will be scrutinized, ostracized, disliked.

 Honestly, honesty is a dangerous thing. It is not good or bad, but something much more complex. So use it with caution.

Magical Mistakes

So...I know that I might face possible Ms.Robbins Jail Time or public reader's shunning or something, but...I totally didn't read this week.
BUT!
I have an explenation: for the past four days I've been sick, and I couldn't do anything but mope in bed and be sickly. It was bad. Really bad. Also for another three days I've been in a terrible bookless state. (I searched the classroom library, and my own library for like fifteen days but nothing struck me as interesting).
Alas, I was in a 'all the good books that ever existed died in a terrible fire of terror' state.
So for the part of the week that I was actually physically capable to read, I read this biography about Nikola Tesla which was really good but totally non-thought provoking/inspiringly magical.
I mean, he's a really interesting guy, he had a really interesting life, but this book was...lame sometimes.
There was no pizaz, or spunk or spark. I mean, even a non-fiction book can be exiting, right?
This, was not.
The book kind of went like this "Nikola Tesla blah blah history history". Somehow, on the fiftieth page I decided, if this book wasn't going to excite my inner reader, I would.
So I thought of everything I learned from this book.
A lot.
Nikola Tesla was a total genius, but had a lot of nervous and psychological/mental problems. The lack of documentation on his past makes him a man shrouded in mystery. More facts, blah blah blah.
So then I decided to think deeper about the FACTS, and make THAT interesting.
I realized, most geniuses are usually pretty much sociopaths or have some small form of a mental disorder.
Why is that?
Does your brain erase the common-sense part of it to have more room for crazy genius facts?
Tesla had a pretty dark past, so maybe the fact that he dealt with what he did caused his mental issues, which actually HELPED him strive as an inventor/mad genius.
He had OCD, might have had schizophrenia, often had hallucinations, photographic memory and a multitude of other medical phenomena, and they all contributed to making him successful as an electrician/inventor/genius.
So I thought, maybe our faults help us become better people? That might be something I can get out of this totally lame book...Because it's true. Every mistake we've ever made has brought us closer to success. Every fault we have kind of makes our good sides better. Maybe the fact that I'm really moody makes it easier for me to write plays that are super dramatic and complicated. Maybe the experience we've had, be it negative or positive, have helped us be better equipped to go out into to the world.

So yeah, I did read a book. Not my favorite, not something I would suggest unless you're seriously into the informative non-thought provoking, but I definitely got something out of it.
It was a good mistake.

New York Writer Sentenced to 5 Years of Angst?

Well I mean, we all are, kind of. (Sentenced to five years of angst). Honestly, as adolescents, all we do is suffer the terrifying grips of 'teen angst'. So usually, from around age thirteen till eighteen, we are the unrecognizable monsters of the human race. Just kidding.
In Ned Vizzini's book Teen Angst? a collection of essays and short stories about growing up in New York City (Brooklyn, actually). Throughout the whole book, I was thinking 'uhh, this is all great, but really, where's the teen angst, exactly?'. There was no angry brooding bohemian grunge boy, no nerdy trench-coat mafia kid; just a nerd who went to Stuyvesant. A kid like you, or a kid like me. (Honestly we're all nerds) And I realized that I was kind of angry.
I wanted my teen angst and I wanted it now! I wanted all the stories about drugs and alcohol and all the stupid things teenagers were supposed to do. So why was I reading about SHSATs and Summer Camp with a Punk Rocker Girl? And more importantly, why was I enjoying it?
Because I can relate to it. Even though I have to admit, sometimes I can be a terrible annoying angsty girl, (like everyone else), I'm normally just...me. A 'normal' teenage girl. Not rebellious or angry, or stupid or badass (uhh...am I allowed to say that here?). Ned Vizzini, once again, shows how interesting life is, on it's own, without any extravagant rebellion/dramatic additions.
I mean really, do you think that being all 'fml, I hate my life, blah blah blah' unless you actually have a reason makes you more interesting? (And even if you have a reason, would you really be saying that?) I don't think that angst is something that teenagers NEED to have. Sure, it's something we all feel occasionally, maybe more than your average adult, or toddler, but I don't think that we need to make it our only emotion. And I don't think we need to hunt for it in books, either.
That's kind of what I love about Ned Vizzini's books, actually. They're mostly all normal. There's no extra drama, it's all stuff that could actually happen to anyone. (I'm not saying that being assaulted by your uncle after your dad died and become addicted to cocaine while your mother goes bankrupt and your sister suffers from lukemia and you struggle with anorexia while trying to get a certain hot guy to like you couldn't happen to anyone, but really...?) Somehow though, it's still totally interesting. You don't need to suffer from five years of terrible angst and terror to have something interesting to say to the world. I think, by simply being alive, we can be interesting. You don't really need a lot of sprinkles on your vanilla ice cream to make it a real ice cream. (Okay, my metaphors are weird, so shoot me.) And I have to say, Ned Vizzini's teenage life totally lacked sprinkles. I mean, he never really bemoaned his life or talked about his troubles. He was pretty vanilla.
 Which makes me think, what's with all these kids who try so hard to be miserable? Since when was this a pity contest? Since when was being a brooding teen with a terrible emotional life become cool? It's all for attention, I guess. We all want something to make us feel special, unique, worthy. And as soon as you don't care about that, like Ned did as a kid, you start to be okay with life. Things are happy, normal. You're not some ridiculous kid with an abnormal amount of problem sprinkles on your vanilla ice cream of life. Yes, a few sprinkles add flavor, but too many cause diabetes...
I don't think that people really need to put an emphasis on their problems. I think that if you have a problem, you should fix it. Publicizing it isn't really going to get you anywhere. You're life is already interesting without the extra emphasis on the misery. YOU are already interesting without the extra sprinkles.
I mean really, sprinkles can be really gross if you eat too  many. Have you ever tried to eat a container of sprinkles? They loose taste, your tastebuds kind of die and all you taste is food coloring for weeks.
So trust me,  you don't need extra stuff to make your life more interesting. You already are interesting. If a 20-something year old New Yorker can write a book about his bland life, then so can you! And I'm not saying you have to right a book, you can just sit here and think of how cool you really are, and how your life totally IS interesting.
So comment, tell me about the vanilla in your life, or the sprinkles, or what makes your life good. Think about little things that are totally average or uninteresting about your life. Because really, the vanilla is the best part of the ice cream.
Sprinkles suck.

Social...what?

Look out of a window, right now. (The one in your bedroom, that opens up to the street that seems to always full of loud, obnoxious people right as you're about to fall asleep.) All of those people, they have lives. They have lives, and their lives have issues. That man in the yellow parka, (which is so weird, because it's like, thirty billion degrees and sunny...) he might have marital issues, or he might have just lost his job. That woman in the workdress, her son might be gay. And she's homophobic.

Now you're asking yourself, 'Why am I making up terrible scenarios for these people?'. Well, that's what stories do. They make problems. In every book I've ever read (no, self help books and non fiction and cookbooks don't count), characters always have major issues that they're dealing with, throughout the story. Without a problem, you have no book. Problems make everything interesting. They are the story, itself. Problems make you relate to characters.

For example, I'm reading Sold by Patricia McCormick, which has major social issues. It's not just about prostitution, which is a pretty heavy topic, in itself. This goes so much deeper. Because, what makes these people think it's okay to hurt people like this, to do disrespect them?
The fact that they're prostitutes.
Why are they prostitutes?
Because these girls were tricked, hurt, and young and naive.
How are they tricked?
They are uneducated, and poor, and unexposed to the world.
Why aren't they educated?
Because they're women.

In Lakshmi (the main character) 's society (in Nepal) women are seen as lesser, they are only meant to bear children, and support a family. Women cannot function on there own, according to Lakshmi's culture. Her mother even tells her 'a crippled husband is better than none at all.' That's demeaning.
That a social issue.
How can women be so degraded?
 Women are hugely significant in life-we're not just goats who get used for milk, and then slaughtered for stew. And it's terrible that Lakshmi's society sees women this way. Because of this, she's been sold into prostitution-because of the way these women are treated, like they shouldn't have rights, like they're lesser, it isn't fair. It's what causes them to be in this situation, in the first place.

Now, how can we relate to a social issue like prostitution, anyway? That's why McCormick ties feminism, and women being degraded into this story. It's something we can relate to more easily, it helps us understand this struggle that Lakshmi goes to, having been sold into prostitution, and it makes us think.
What gives them the right?

What gives people the right to treat women-or any group of people- like they're lesser?
I mean, why couldn't these women fight back, come to the realization that this wasn't okay, that women are just as intellegent and worthy as men? Maybe, it's because they're not educated. I read this article that talked about how many families in India wouldn't send their daughters to school, because they could only afford to pay for one child's education, and they would rather educate a son, because sons are 'more worthy'.  By keeping women uneducated, they are more easily brainwashed into this 'unworthiness' idea.

And the disgusting thing, is that many women accept this. In Sold, there's this whole feeling that even if Lakshmi, or anyone else tried to speak out about the way women are treated, or the issue of children getting sold into prostitution, no one would listen. Most women have accept their fate, and have started to believe themselves, that this is how women should be; that they are lesser than men. And if anyone tried to speak out about this, even many women would be against it. And in terms of prostitution-no one really seems to know, or care, maybe. And these girls have no way of getting out-their brothels are like jails-the girls cannot speak to anyone, or get anyone's help.

I hate that, the idea that even if you tried to save yourself, or could speak up, the people you're representing would push you back down. Because they've already accept their fates. They've lost all hope. And that's the remarkable thing about Lakshmi-she never loses hope. And because of that, she's able to stay 'alive'. She's able to stay who she is, and not become another slave, another zombie to this terrible situation. She hasn't given up but she's giving in. She's accepting where she is, but you still understand, she's holding on to her past, and she still knows she can get out. And that's remarkable.

I think that strong social issues like these can bring you to conclusions like these. A social issue can get you to want to do something about the problem. Whether it's helping girls escape prostitution, or just helping girls know that they're worth something-these social issues impact you, when used and written powerfully. That's exactly what Patricia McCormick does.

So when you look out your window at 3 A.M and hate all the loud people keeping you up, maybe, you can think about their problems, and why they're so loud anyway. Maybe you'll get some inspiration. Maybe you'll want to do something. Or maybe you'll just get some earplugs and go to sleep.

Youth in Revolt

I literally just started this book today, so I'm only on the sixth page, and don't know anything about the plot yet. But so far, I love this book. It's so awkward and real. Not awkward in a cute way, awkward in a kind of gross, weird, adolescent way.The fact that Nick Twisp is so honest about how 'weird' he is, makes it more acceptable to the reader. He isn't hiding that he has weird fantasies and stuff, he doesn't embrace it either, I respect his awkwardness, in a way. And what's great about the way the writer portrays Nick, is that she still manages to make him likeable. Maybe it's the fact that in reality, his life is sort of terrible-his dad doesn't really like him, (actually his dad is just...a big terrible person) and his mom wants him to be something he isn't. Life isn't easy for Nick, and that makes us feel sympathy for him, even if he's totally gross. But you still like him! We can still connect to him, in our own, screwed up way.

Nick is basically all the awkward and hidden secret parts of us that we don't share with anyone. All those weird curious and unsure feelings we have during puberty are basically Nick Twisp. And you have to love that. You have to love that he can actually admit these things (to his diary...eheh). One quote from this book that I really love, is when Nick's mother tells him he's insane, and he responds 'I'm being a teenager'.

I think that is one of the most true things I've ever heard. I think that at one point, you just snap. Teenagers seem like these crazy, mentally deranged, strange things. And they totally are. No one can understand a teenager. (except for maybe other teenagers.) I think that that's the cool thing. They're so into their own world, in a sort of inbetween, that to everyone looking in at them, they seem like strange creatures with twisted morals and twisted minds. And Nick can show you, that is SO totally not the case. Nick can show you the thought process-how everything sort of does make sense, in his weird, awkward and sad life (while managing to be hilarious and upbeat, as well).

I can't wait to continue this book to see what Nick's adolescence has in store...

Death

Death plays a fairly large part in Charlotte's Web. It seems to be more the concept of dying, that scares Wilbur. The idea that Charlotte could be no longer, or he would no longer exist. For example, when Wilbur finds out Charlotte's dying, Wilbur is totally upset and cries and is practically depressed. But when Charlotte dies, Wilbur distracts himself with Charlotte's eggsack, and later, her children.

I think it's kind of like Wilbur was avoiding his pain (from Charlotte's death) by caring for her children. People do that a lot-distract themselves from their problems. I think it's more to move on faster, to not feel pain, to pretend it didn't happen, that you're not hurting. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

Wilbur was trembling and crying with joy when he met Charlotte's three children. Because he had a new version on Charlotte? Because he was upset that Charlotte was dead? I think that in order to keep from hurting , you still have to think about what you miss. Hiding something away completely will just make it harder, when the feelings come back up.

I've lost people in my life many times, and I know that hiding your problems completely doesn't help at all. Wilbur has found a way to keep Charlotte alive, in a sense. People are happier that way. Why? Why do we need to keep a memory alive, even after it's gone?Why can't we completely let go?

TBC

It's kind of a funny story

Hi Craig, it's your brain!

So you know what I think would totally be fun? If I got really depressed, which would then have you check into a mental ward (okay, it's called a psychiatric hospital facility or whatever, but we all know what that means), and throw away your practically perfect academic life, and your...merely functional social life. Afterwards, this guy, Ned Vizzini, can TOTALLY write a book about it, I think he'll call it It's Kind of a Funny Story (By the way the book will turn into a movie). And the best part? You wouldn't be able to eat sleep or enjoy yourself at all, but everyone would LOVE your story!

Now Craig, you're probably thinking this is crazy (well, I have to say, I kind of am, which explains why you're in a loony bin in the first place...), but I think that what you SHOULD be thinking about, is why people would love this story so much, anyway? I mean, what's so fascinating about a depressed teenager? We meet crazy, depressed, neurotic people all the time (whether we know they're crazy/neurotic/depressed or not, is another story) so it shouldn't really be that big of a deal, right? I totally agree Craig, but I don't think the rest of the world feels that way.

Maybe it's the things that you're going through, I mean, we never really notice how lovely and beautiful and heartbreaking and hilarious our lives are until we make a story out of them. Because really, being depressed may be a major thing, but it's not uncommon, and in reality, you're life could easily be that of any random person on the street. And that's the beauty in your story, Craig. You could be anyone, you ARE anyone, and everyone. Because really, we're all insane. We're all animal. Like Humble said 'We're all created equal, but some of us are created more animal'. Some of us may be a little more insane than the other, but we're all messed up. Why else would we try to figure out this complex, terrible, wonderful, scary thing call life? Why would we even bother with it?

That's exactly why you wanted to stop living. Because you realized how insane it was to keep trying to live. You can't manage everything-no one can. But even if life doesn't require people to be perfect, we all know it's expected. Normal people aren't liked, Craig. Only the people that give up everything wonderful to be perfect. (Or as close as possible). So why are you being called crazy? You're the most sane of them. You realized how messed up everything in life is, and you were doing a rational thing, you were being normal, and trying to get out of a situation you can't handle. But still, you're the one who's labeled as crazy. Why is that? They're all the crazy ones, for trying to live. They're like lab rat's in a rigged maze.

But you don't need to listen to me, you still have to get through this journey, I mean, your story isn't over yet, and every book needs an ending.

I just hope you get out alive.

GET WELL SOON!

Love,

Your Brain.

Charlotte's Web Post.

In class, we read Charlotte's web as a 'childhood favorite reread'. At first, I wasn't too excited. A book about a pig and his genius spider friend didn't seem to deep and meaningful to me. I was wrong. It seems that children's books can be more packed with deeper meanings than suspected.
To me, Charlotte's web was a way to reconnect with a book I'd read, (and hated) as a child, but as I read it for a second time, I began to notice things I hadn't seen before. I started to look into the morals that were given, and the way E.B White seemed to make you do a double take and say "Why would Fern/Wilbur/Charlotte/Whoever say something like that? What does that mean?". You start to question what's right and what's wrong, as a person. The way the Fern saved Wilbur, possibly only because he was vulnerable. It made me think about whether she would save him, if he were just a big normal, healthy pig.
I loved the characters in this book. They were all so charming and cute. Wilbur, a little runt when we first meet him, develops and matures wonderfully, and stays adorable and loveable as ever. And Charlotte, a beautiful spider, more like a mother than anything else.
The story is told simply, without any fancy words or metaphors or complicated things, (though to me, the book, in itself is one huge metaphor) but somehow, it's beautiful and somewhat complex. Everything is about growing up, what's wrong and right, and a loss of innocence. Charlotte's Web talks a lot about death, but somehow, it's still lovely, and a book that makes me happy everytime I read it.
It's a delightful class assignment, and a feel-good book to reread all the time.