Let me start by mentioning how much I would love nothing more than to be writing a literary work of art right now. 

But unfortunately, seeing as it is 10:56 on a Sunday night (roughly 2 hours, 4 minutes and 12 seconds before this assignment is due) - and teachers being placed on earth to make our lives very difficult indeed (as I have 3 tests in a row tomorrow, as well as 2 major assignments due) - I have been a BIT preoccupied. And I am not in any way insinuating that English is an unimportant subject. No. 

In fact, English is my second favourite subject.

If I were aiming to create a literary work of art right now, I would probably say something funny (insert hilarious quip here) to grab your attention, and launch into a seemingly useless topic surrounding it.

But I am not creating a literary work of art and I am definitely not capable of thinking up a hilarious quip at this hour. So you're going to have to settle for this: (I am aware this is a rather long introduction, but I will not allow word constraints to hinder any scarcely found creative juices)

Why do people insist on being the best?

Why is it so important to be able to say "I win"?

Why does everything have to be a competition?

And don't deny it. If you don't like winning; you're not human.

As the saying goes: "from the mouthes of babes..." Kids are often painfully honest. Not always in being truthful in the typical way, but in being true to human nature. Do you remember being a kid, running around a playground or sitting on a swing with your mate and you say, "my big brother is 19." 

Your friend is impressed. "Well," he says, "my big sister is 32, and she just finished grade 10 in university." 

"Oh, sorry, I forgot," the other says. "My big brother is actually 50."

Is it that feeling of accomplishment you get?

Seeing the other person as possibly beneath you, being superior?

Whatever it is; it sucks.

Trying to be the best at everything every minute of every day is tiring. I for one am sick of it. 

Sure, I welcome praise and admiration with open arms. But I won't go looking for it. Next time you ask someone how they did in a test, or how old their big brother is, say "Wow. That's really cool." Or if you're really feeling the love: "That's groovy," or, "you're out of this world!" 

Because sure, the other person had a good test score. But you're a rad person. 

I think we both know who wins here.

Blog #3
Something that has always fascinated me is space, and infinity. An infinity of space. Space for an infinity. One thing I've never really been able to discuss this with, because I've never really found the words - is the impossible, yet completely possible law, that the universe just goes on, forever and ever. I just can't seem to completely wrap my head around that. It's like putting it simply so that people don't ask questions. It doesn't make sense. To me, an infinity of time makes sense - because anything beyond this second hasn't happened yet, but undeniably, without a doubt, no matter what, it will. Time will go on, and therefore time is an infinity we can see (Unless the entire universe explodes into nothingness - but I'm getting to that). As John Green pointed out - some infinities are greater than other infinities. Like the infinity of numbers between 0 and 2 is larger than that between 0 and 1. These infinities make sense. But how can the universe go on forever? What if there wasn't anything? Not even a blank, white space? Then would nothing be something and therefore nothing at all? I can't even hold onto the thought long enough for myself to understand it.

Blog #2
My interests haven't really changed over the years. I draw, I paint, I swim, I take photos, and I read. There is one interest I get to indulge in everyday. My love of words. I love English.(No - really). What other 12 year old would put a thesaurus on their Christmas list? This probably sprouted from my love of reading. I'll put it this way. "The book is always better than the movie." Who says this? Readers. Why? Because the... *gags* Non readers --- don't have anything to compare it to because they never give books a chance. Ever since I was little, I've loved books. I'm not going to say books were my only friends because... that's sad. No. I just loved them. That's why today, I don't use a Kindle. I love the smell of the paper, and the way it feels in my hands, and getting to the end of a story with someone's entire life behind your left thumb. Art doesn't have to be restricted to paint on canvas. The written word is an art - just as much as any other art - but in a different way. By stringing a few lonely words together, you can create something beautiful. The most beautifully written book I have yet read is the Fault in our Stars, by John Green. He doesn't just tell a story. He takes your breath away with every sentence - a master of words. He inspires me. I generally just think taking random sounds and symbols and being able to write stories, communicate and create art is beautiful, and it's something worth taking an interest in. 

Blog #1
The way I see it, there are two types of people in this world. The quiet ones who read the Lord of the Rings and the rambunctious, popular ones, who, of course, everybody likes - but only because they allow themselves to be seen. They thrive on it - recognition, attention. This is one way to go through life. And don't misunderstand me - that's perfectly fine. Yay for them. But sometimes (not all the time), these people miss things. When your priorities lie in popularity and material possessions, you're basically sticking a permanent piece of cling film between you and the world. Everything is hazy. This is when you become oblivious to the unique, amazing people around you (these are usually the quiet ones who read the Lord of the Rings). I'm not on their side because I am one (well, that's not the only reason). It's because they know how to listen, and they understand. (From our famous Stephen Chbosky's Perks of Being a Wallflower). They see the world with clear, film-free vision. The thing is, people don't really get to choose who they become. They're born with themselves, their influences, and a nasty little friend hiding around every corner - fate. And for once, in the merciless lotto of life, I'm happy with who I got.