Why is it so hard for me to just sit down and work on something? It seems that I have to be doing all my homework assignments when the most stress is put on me. What is this crazy addiction I, and many other students have, on the philosophy that what can be done tomorrow can be put off until tomorrow? I don't think like a procrastinator, though, that's the weird thing. I go home and say, YEAH! I'm gonna sit right down for 5 hours and finish this essay! Then I get distracted. Have a bite to eat. Check facebook. Maybe call my girlfriend as a break. What do you know, 5 hours laterm and I've written 1 whole paragraph. Another thing I do is put off things to the next day by making an excuse, or convincing myself I will have more quality work if I work on it the next day. At least, the good thing is I'm not just lazy and say, yeah, screw this, I'll do it tomorrow. I feel like I actually attempted to work. Or, well, attempted to attempt to work. I really need to work on my work ethic. Well, then again, maybe I'll do that tomorrow, when I'm less tired.

So, as a little kid, I always thought when my grandmother told me that she sewed me something, that she literally weaved each individual piece of fabric together. I spent many a night with my blanket wondering how she could have possibly arranged each thread in the specific fashion to create the wonderful patterns on it. I always thought that each part of technology was hand made as well, every toy painted by some amazilng artist in some far away land, and that every teddy bear had each hair put in manually. Boy, my childhood world sure was delusional. Well, I also did believe that we actually lived under the earths crust, and the earths crust's bottom was the color blue. Also, I pretended I was a dinosaur for about 2 years. I was a really weird child.

Often, when driving down the highway near a residential neighborhood, I find myself fascinated by the number of people that can possibly exist in this world. I'm blown away by the fact that there can be 1 million different faces, minds, bodies, fingerprints. 6 billion is an impossible to imagine number. And nearly every single one has an incredibly unique face. There's just so many combinations of eyes, noses, mouths, ears, colors, cheek bones, jaws. Isn't there some sort of limit at one point or another? You'd think that there would be a lot more look-a-likes in this world, but surprisingly, there aren't. Another thing, the shear amount of possible individual minds just blows my mind. And each one of those individuals has there very own story.
Kinda makes me feel really insignificant, like looking at the starry night sky.

So, I'm watching some lame drama on television with my mom, and the show took on an interesting dilemma. A man, after being put in prison since 1970, is about to be put on parole. While talking to his parole officer, he says that he wants her to lie to the parole board, tell them that he's dangerous. His rationale behind this is that he's been in prison for his entire life. He went into prison when Nixon was president. He doesn't know of computers, of the technology available today. He doesn't know what society is like. All of his friends are in prison, his entire life is prison. The parole officer argues, every man should have another chance at freedom, whether they want it or not, and lets him go on parole. Low and behold, he commits a crime to get right back where he has been his entire life. If I was the parole officer, I would have just given the man his wish. I mean, how could he have possibly tried to reintegrate himself into society? He's been in prison for 40 years; its all he knows. I'm surprised she wasn't expecting to do anything he could to get back in prison.

So, this year of schooling may be the most difficult and challenging year of schooling thus far in my scholastic career. Most homework, hardest tests, and the longest essays. But you know what the weird part about it is? I absolutely love it. Now, don't get me wrong, I hate how much work I have to do. The thing is, I love the feeling I get from participating in the IB Diploma Programme. For one, I like the feeling that I'm taking the most rigorous courses offered at the high school (much to the dispute of the AP students). Another thing is, I love the feeling of being in a family, a community of students who are going through the same hell I am. Plus, the outcome of this program(me) will be fantastic, getting me into awesome colleges and universities, and even then with extra credits, maybe even skipping freshman year. Whenever I do a lot of work, like write blogs that I procrastinated on for ToK, I just think that after I get through this, the benefits will be fantastic. Just gotta get through Junior and Senior year.

Mr. Radtke has brought an interesting subject to my attention. It seems that, as a society, technology is both advancing and regressing at the same time. One particular area is in cell phones. Texting, the worlds latest fad, is simply telegrams, but mobile. No body particularly wants to use that fancy old invention of actually speaking to the person, much less seeing them face to face. Same thing with e-mail. Would it really be all that bad just to call someone? Maybe I'm just old fashioned cause I never had e-mail till about 4 years ago, texting just last year, but still. Why is there such aversion to having telephone conversations with people. It can't be that bad, right?

I really do wish I could fly. Sure, this is basically every human on the planet's dream after they see a bird for the first time, but still. The concept is absolutely fantastic. Although, what seperates me from all the other people who are wishing, me being my inventive self, have been looking into some awesome DIY projects to get up in the air. One has particularly caught my attention, as is actually one I started working on in grade school. Its a hovercraft powered by a vacuum. Simply, its just a circular piece of ply wood with a vacuum pushing air down below it, inflating a plastic air skirt, lifting the craft off the ground, and can hold several hundred pounds. Plus, because it creates a nearly frictional surface in which to move over, the slightest push just keeps you going and going. Far away from being Icarus wings, but just as exciting to me. But, it raises the question, just where is that jetpack that I was promised 10 years ago?