School myself. It is honestly the worst experience in

School life:I hate being trapped in a quiet work space. It’s like an office job. No real breaks, no real food, no happiness… i want to slam my head against the wall, over and over, until i seem my pretty red blood add color to such a dull work environment. Other plans to leave would include self harm in the bathroom, emotional break down, or breaking my finger. These unhealthy thoughts would point out my very Unstable mental health, OR that this building is honestly worse than hell. With no talking, short breaks, crap food, and sometimes even the people make me want to hurt myself. It is honestly the worst experience in my entire life, the constant work, freezing gym, and crap food is just to much for my over emotional mind. I have learned that with time feelings change… mine have not. I still want to viciously beat my head against the wall. I want to watch the horror and shock fill everyone’s eyes as a fall to the ground, probably half dead, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that i am out of this place, out of this prison, probably in white pine, but at least i am out. At least i don’t have to deal with the insanity of the building… but again, these are all just thoughts… meaningless blurbs in my mind. Emotional stability:Life is meaningless, as meaningless as speaking german to a chinese man. As meaningless as emotions. Emotions are only chemicals going off in our brains telling us how to feel. How to react. How to function. But emotions can be forgotten about, they are not needed for survival. The longer i am here, the more i want to fall asleep, and never wake up…Thoughts:Sometimes i just sit here, staring blankly at the computer screen, wondering what my life has become, why i choose to live, my purpose. I haven’t come up with anything yet, but i am only 16 and still have a little ways to go. Who am I? A question i ask myself all the time, but can never really answer… i am Makenzie of course, but what does my actions say about me, about who i am. Why can’t i figure it out. Why can’t i figure out the future? Is it because i am still young or is it because i am worth nothing. Life is just a little speck in the universe, what is my legacy? What am i leaving behind? Can i say i am actually proud of myself? Or am i really just a small speck, useless and meaningless. I guess it’s not, my memory will live on through my Sandblossom, who goes to Elli if i die at a young age… This entire essay is about the uselessness that is my life. Who can say that they are actually useless? Besides me of course. Am i the only one not leaving my mark on the world? Is my story just a small tale, and itsy bitsy little spec in the story that is life. Am i just a background character? Am i… Meaningless? No. no one is meaningless. People do have purposes in life, past dying, past living, we help, in our own way, George Washington wasn’t famous overnight. It was a lot of hard work and determination, Determination that i don’t think i have… so… so what if my life is meaningless, if i don’t make a mark. I know that people will remember me, at least for a little bit, just a smidge of time. My story won’t go untold, and my song with not go unsung. Perhaps i will be famous after i die? Maybe someone will publish this, telling my story, sharing my life with those of who, who do not have the determination to live, breath, be happy. Is my life meaningless? No, my meaning in life is to make others feel better about themselves, to let them know that they are not alone in this cruel cruel world. That is my purpose, my meaning, my legacy. Racism and politics:History is confusing, i don’t know weather to scream in boredom or scream because my favorite politicians were jerks. Hamilton wanted a british government, while jefferson was a hypocrite, Burr was a traitor, Madison was a jerk, John Adams was sexist, and Washington owned slaves! Jeez, no one can be civil, which is pretty sad. Racism is also really sad, especially since so many people now a days pretend that it doesn’t exist, and ignore it.

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