Talking about Carpe Diem in Mrs Carters class got me thinking. Do we as overly busy teenagers actually stop and take a moment to think about things that have happened that we have just let slide by? I certainly don't. I have let more than one thing in my life slide by that probably could have helped me take a breather from all the things that pile up on me. I just want to get through that "pile" of things that never ends and never take a moment to stop and look at each thing individually.
Seize your day. No one else is EVER going to go it for you and like Pink Floyd so perfectly put it, "No on told you when to run. You missed the starting gun." If we don't seize the day and stop taking everything we have for granted, one day we are all are going to find that we have nothing and we are going wish that we had stopped to smell the roses. That we had sat in the green grass just soaking up the sun. That we had danced in the rain and done other things that we can never find time do and if it does happen we just speed right on through that moment in our lives.
Just yesterday, I was sitting in Mrs Carters class again talking to Whitney Withers. We were finishing up with Carpe Diem and she said something that has stuck with me. She said, "I hate realizing that every minute of everyday is one that I am never, ever going to get back." Have we wasted part of our lives? We are never going to get those moments back. Ever. Did we make the right decisions? Did we stop to relish in that one moment? Maybe one day there will be just ONE moment were if we just stop and relish in it, it could change our lives for the better.
I was listening to my playlist and I found a song that fits Carpe Diem perfectly :D
"If Today Was Your Last Day" by Nickelback
My best friend gave me the best advice
He said each day's a gift and not a given right
Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind
And try to take the path less traveled by
That first step you take is the longest stride
If today was your last day
And tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past
Donate every dime you have?
If today was your last day
Against the grain should be a way of life
What's worth the prize is always worth the fight
Every second counts 'cause there's no second try
So live like you'll never live it twice
Don't take the free ride in your own life
If today was your last day
And tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past
Donate every dime you have?
Would you call old friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories
Would you forgive your enemies?
Would you find that one you're dreamin' of?
Swear up and down to God above
That you finally fall in love
If today was your last day
If today was your last day
Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?
You know it's never too late to shoot for the stars
Regardless of who you are
So do whatever it takes
'Cause you can't rewind a moment in this life
Let nothin' stand in your way
Cause the hands of time are never on your side
If today was your last day
And tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past
Donate every dime you have?
Would you call old friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories
Would you forgive your enemies?
Would you find that one you're dreamin' of?
Swear up and down to God above
That you finally fall in love
If today was your last day
:) so live life to its fullest cause you NEVER know when your last moment will be
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Ugg...
I am here sitting on my bed at home, missing a whole bunch of opportunity to learn something because I am sick. I hate being sick! The pain that radiates through your lungs as you cough yet again, how it feels like you ate sand paper and it got lodged in your throat making it scratch the inside of your esophagus every time that you do cough, the abs that are forming from all the coughing, all the achy muscles, the runny nose, or the head that feels like it is seriously going to explode and no matter how many Motrin you take, it never goes away :P Ugg I really really hate being sick.
Any way, while I am stuck at home sick I have had to time to catch up on much needed sleep and I have gotten to think in the quiet of my room. Something that would never happen at school. Thinking about what you may ask? Everything is all I have to answer. Yesterday, I was on Facebook talking with one of my friends who asked what was on my mind. I answered the same way as I just did. Everything, or a whole bunch of random, useless nonsense. To that they replied: u should try to clear ur mind a bit...it'll make things less stressful. Someone younger than me just told me that my life would be a lot less stressful if I just let go of all the useless things I was thinking about. You know what? They're right! Probably more right than they've been right their wholes lives! I really do need to let my mind rest. Stop thinking about those stupid ACT things all the time. In English class yes, think about them all the time, but outside of class? Forget about them for a moment. Forget about what so and so said, it really doesn't matter anyway. Stop thinking about what you could have done differently almost a month ago, it doesn't matter any more!
Living a stressful life is probably why I happen to be sick right now. All the stress can lower the immune system, therefore making you more susceptible to what ever bug is floating around at the time. The only problem is I can't seem to let go all of this stress. Some of it yes, it's easy, but letting go of the rest of it is going to be the hardest thing I have done in my entire life. There are certain things that are just hard to let go, and I don't know why.
So after all of this I think we now know that living a stressful lifes sucks :) Getting out and living your life is so much better for you than sitting around letting your mind be full of useless things that aren't going to help all that much.
Just some stuff that have been on my mind lately :D
Any way, while I am stuck at home sick I have had to time to catch up on much needed sleep and I have gotten to think in the quiet of my room. Something that would never happen at school. Thinking about what you may ask? Everything is all I have to answer. Yesterday, I was on Facebook talking with one of my friends who asked what was on my mind. I answered the same way as I just did. Everything, or a whole bunch of random, useless nonsense. To that they replied: u should try to clear ur mind a bit...it'll make things less stressful. Someone younger than me just told me that my life would be a lot less stressful if I just let go of all the useless things I was thinking about. You know what? They're right! Probably more right than they've been right their wholes lives! I really do need to let my mind rest. Stop thinking about those stupid ACT things all the time. In English class yes, think about them all the time, but outside of class? Forget about them for a moment. Forget about what so and so said, it really doesn't matter anyway. Stop thinking about what you could have done differently almost a month ago, it doesn't matter any more!
Living a stressful life is probably why I happen to be sick right now. All the stress can lower the immune system, therefore making you more susceptible to what ever bug is floating around at the time. The only problem is I can't seem to let go all of this stress. Some of it yes, it's easy, but letting go of the rest of it is going to be the hardest thing I have done in my entire life. There are certain things that are just hard to let go, and I don't know why.
So after all of this I think we now know that living a stressful lifes sucks :) Getting out and living your life is so much better for you than sitting around letting your mind be full of useless things that aren't going to help all that much.
Just some stuff that have been on my mind lately :D
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Shelem the bear
Shelem the Bear
The flattened, matted hair of long aged past cover his small body. He goes everywhere with me, a security item just like Lionas' blanket on Snoopy. Floppy and emaciated he leans over pathetically. Elongated legs, like the branches of a weeping willow, dangle from the circle of my arms. He is missing a smooth russet bow so some strings hang from his stuffing-less neck. Flattened, by night after night of being rolled over onto, he appears to almost be 2-D. Beady, dark eyes stare softly into the distance. No sneer visible, no rude remarks to comment, just a comforting embrace.
When a bad day rolls around, he always sits there on the bed, bent at an odd angle against the pillow ready for a cuddle or to sponge up salty tears. When a good day comes along, or just some good news, there he sits with his small furry ears ready to listen and hang onto every word that he is told.
Smelling of dryer sheets, he reminds me of lonely afternoons when he went through a much needed wash. Coconut Lime and Amber Romance linger faintly in his fur. On top of all of that, you can also smell a faint scent of White Ginger and Nectarine shampoo.
His stringy fur leaves marks on skin. Not smooth but not rough, he makes sleep possible. The stuffing has separated and become lumpy, making it an uneven pillow. Wet noodle like, he tends to flop around. Shelem has a milk chocolate fur that sparkles and shines, and makes him all the more special
Friday, September 17, 2010
A big bloody mess
My favorite scar came from a large blue glass that my brother knocked on to the floor. I was standing at the pantry and a piece about 3-4 inches long and 2 inches thick flew across the floor and embedded itself into my tender flesh of the inside of my foot. I didn’t notice it at first because it sliced through all of my layers of skin, the fatty tissue, my muscle, and the nerves, so I didn’t feel it. The only thing that alerted me to my situation was my brother’s strangled yell, and my mothers swearing (well not really). I looked down and I was standing in a HUGE puddle of my blood. When I say huge I mean really REALLY HUGE puddle. That is when I started to scream. I moved and the blood got all over my WHITE sundress. I just stood there crying and hollering like a lost puppy. My mom picked me up, wrapped my foot in a towel and herded my brothers to the car to drop them of at our friend's house so that she could take me to the ER. It was the longest ride of my life.
When we got there my mom carried me to the doors then went back to park the car. An ambulance driver stopped by and asked what had happened. I told her in broken sobs and she asked if she could see the cut. I nodded and she uncovered the cut, and as soon as she had uncovered it, she covered it right back up and said "Yep you are going to have to get a lot of stitches." Then she ran off to get me a wheelchair. When we got in to the waiting area the ambulance driver ushered my mom and I ahead of the other waiting sick people and got me into a room really fast.
I had to wait less then 5 minutes to get a doctor and a nurse in to see my foot. He had the nurse take off the soaked towel and throw it away because it was unsalvageable because of all of the blood. He took one look at it then went out to get stuff for the stitches. He took out a syringe and looked at my mom. "You might want to hold your daughters hand for this." he said. He injected the numbing stuff in four different places and I left claw marks on my mom's arm. It hurt more than the cut did in the first place.
After 30 minutes, I had ten dissolving stitches on the inside of my foot, and 8 on the outside. I had a really ugly blue foot boot type of thing,and had to be off my foot for two weeks, Then I had to walk on it for another three weeks. When we went to go take them out, they all got stuck in my foot and we had to pull them out, so I had to wear a wrap on my foot for a couple of days. I have a really awesome scar now and I love to show it off!
When we got there my mom carried me to the doors then went back to park the car. An ambulance driver stopped by and asked what had happened. I told her in broken sobs and she asked if she could see the cut. I nodded and she uncovered the cut, and as soon as she had uncovered it, she covered it right back up and said "Yep you are going to have to get a lot of stitches." Then she ran off to get me a wheelchair. When we got in to the waiting area the ambulance driver ushered my mom and I ahead of the other waiting sick people and got me into a room really fast.
I had to wait less then 5 minutes to get a doctor and a nurse in to see my foot. He had the nurse take off the soaked towel and throw it away because it was unsalvageable because of all of the blood. He took one look at it then went out to get stuff for the stitches. He took out a syringe and looked at my mom. "You might want to hold your daughters hand for this." he said. He injected the numbing stuff in four different places and I left claw marks on my mom's arm. It hurt more than the cut did in the first place.
After 30 minutes, I had ten dissolving stitches on the inside of my foot, and 8 on the outside. I had a really ugly blue foot boot type of thing,and had to be off my foot for two weeks, Then I had to walk on it for another three weeks. When we went to go take them out, they all got stuck in my foot and we had to pull them out, so I had to wear a wrap on my foot for a couple of days. I have a really awesome scar now and I love to show it off!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Me as a writer
Laurel Jefferies
“Me as a Writer”
One of my first attempts at writing ended badly. I was sitting in kindergarten and my teacher decided that we were going to write poems. I thought, oh boy, oh boy! I get to write a poem! Yeah that was before the assistant teacher degraded my poem writing abilities. She came over to see what I was going to do my poem on, and looked to see that I had rhymed Dogs with Cogs. See looked at me and said, “Laurel you know that cogs is NOT a word (Yes it is!!!). You are going to have to write a different poem if you want credit.” Now you tell me what you would have done! A poor little 5 year old trying her hardest to write one of her first poems and her teacher hated it! Yeah I hated writing, poems in particular, for a long time.
A long time after that, about when I was in 6th grade I found out that my mom had written at least 7 books in high school and when I was a baby, but as life had gotten really busy she put it away. She had decided to start up again since her kids were a little older. She talked to me one day when I saw her writing on her laptop, and she told me that she had always loved writing, and that she wanted all of her kids to like it too. My mom was my earliest influence to love writing all over again. She has since then embraced all of my attempts at writing and continues to. Even if she has had to stay up till 2 a.m. with me and read my serial killer research paper over and over again as I scrambled to make my thoughts make sense on paper.
My writing behaviors change all the time. I write the best with my music playing softly, and a blank page on Microsoft Word. I hate having to start out and write on notebook paper, and I only do it when I am desperate. When it rains is when I write my VERY best. I don’t know what it is about the rain, but it makes the words flow. Writing narrative is my favorite. I can write at least 6 pages or more in one sitting if it is a narrative piece of work. One of my first narrative short stories was 33 pages long and 8,985 words long. I entered it into LTUE (Life the universe and everything else is a sci-fi and fantasy emporium at BYU) when I was in 9th grade, and won 1st place in the middle school division out of a hundred or so other writers. I just barely made it under the word count requirements which were 9,000 words. That was one of the hardest things I have ever had to write. My mom made a little thing that I saw everyday when I sat down to write that was a little paper chair and a button glued to it. On the backside of the chair it said “Sit with you butt-on chair and write.”
I keep and have kept a lot of journals. I love going back and reading what I wrote back in first grade or so. I was really weird, and probably still am today, but maybe less so. I have noticed that my voice has matured a lot and I write more then what my favorite color is over and over again. I write about how my day was, the classes I am taking, and maybe even the teachers I hate at that point in time. Things that are fun to read and not so tedious.
My strengths in writing probably would have to be my ability to write description and characterization. My weaknesses are many, but I can’t think of any right now. Just kidding. Some of my weaknesses include speling. Oops I meant spelling. I used to be the little 3rd grader that got one word during the spelling bee and failed miserably. Another one of my weaknesses is my inability to write UBSCT (however it is spelled) essays. What can I say? I love the letter 'I'.
I think poor writers do not know how to use their personality in their writing. How to express what they are feeling at that point in time, or how to use the 5 senses. I have talked to a lot of writers and they say that having their characters in their heads help them to write also. My mom has this saying on her filing cabinet that says, “A lot of people in this world hear voices in their minds. Some are called crazy and they lock themselves away in little rooms were the bang their heads against the walls all day. The others are called writers and they pretty much do the same thing.”
The most important aspect of writing to me is liking what you write. It doesn’t matter if your kindergarten assistant teacher hates your poems, or if your junior English teacher hates your paper, all that does matter is what YOU think.
“Me as a Writer”
One of my first attempts at writing ended badly. I was sitting in kindergarten and my teacher decided that we were going to write poems. I thought, oh boy, oh boy! I get to write a poem! Yeah that was before the assistant teacher degraded my poem writing abilities. She came over to see what I was going to do my poem on, and looked to see that I had rhymed Dogs with Cogs. See looked at me and said, “Laurel you know that cogs is NOT a word (Yes it is!!!). You are going to have to write a different poem if you want credit.” Now you tell me what you would have done! A poor little 5 year old trying her hardest to write one of her first poems and her teacher hated it! Yeah I hated writing, poems in particular, for a long time.
A long time after that, about when I was in 6th grade I found out that my mom had written at least 7 books in high school and when I was a baby, but as life had gotten really busy she put it away. She had decided to start up again since her kids were a little older. She talked to me one day when I saw her writing on her laptop, and she told me that she had always loved writing, and that she wanted all of her kids to like it too. My mom was my earliest influence to love writing all over again. She has since then embraced all of my attempts at writing and continues to. Even if she has had to stay up till 2 a.m. with me and read my serial killer research paper over and over again as I scrambled to make my thoughts make sense on paper.
My writing behaviors change all the time. I write the best with my music playing softly, and a blank page on Microsoft Word. I hate having to start out and write on notebook paper, and I only do it when I am desperate. When it rains is when I write my VERY best. I don’t know what it is about the rain, but it makes the words flow. Writing narrative is my favorite. I can write at least 6 pages or more in one sitting if it is a narrative piece of work. One of my first narrative short stories was 33 pages long and 8,985 words long. I entered it into LTUE (Life the universe and everything else is a sci-fi and fantasy emporium at BYU) when I was in 9th grade, and won 1st place in the middle school division out of a hundred or so other writers. I just barely made it under the word count requirements which were 9,000 words. That was one of the hardest things I have ever had to write. My mom made a little thing that I saw everyday when I sat down to write that was a little paper chair and a button glued to it. On the backside of the chair it said “Sit with you butt-on chair and write.”
I keep and have kept a lot of journals. I love going back and reading what I wrote back in first grade or so. I was really weird, and probably still am today, but maybe less so. I have noticed that my voice has matured a lot and I write more then what my favorite color is over and over again. I write about how my day was, the classes I am taking, and maybe even the teachers I hate at that point in time. Things that are fun to read and not so tedious.
My strengths in writing probably would have to be my ability to write description and characterization. My weaknesses are many, but I can’t think of any right now. Just kidding. Some of my weaknesses include speling. Oops I meant spelling. I used to be the little 3rd grader that got one word during the spelling bee and failed miserably. Another one of my weaknesses is my inability to write UBSCT (however it is spelled) essays. What can I say? I love the letter 'I'.
I think poor writers do not know how to use their personality in their writing. How to express what they are feeling at that point in time, or how to use the 5 senses. I have talked to a lot of writers and they say that having their characters in their heads help them to write also. My mom has this saying on her filing cabinet that says, “A lot of people in this world hear voices in their minds. Some are called crazy and they lock themselves away in little rooms were the bang their heads against the walls all day. The others are called writers and they pretty much do the same thing.”
The most important aspect of writing to me is liking what you write. It doesn’t matter if your kindergarten assistant teacher hates your poems, or if your junior English teacher hates your paper, all that does matter is what YOU think.
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