black and white

hi kids. here is another reflective essay i wrote. its all inside of my thoughts, but read away :).

Do the right thing. It's said all the time. When given the choice between right and wrong, make the right decision. The people who say it act like its black and white, like, like its layed out on cue cards for us. HERE IS THE RIGHT CHOICE. HERE IS THE WRONG CHOICE. Well, from my experience, its not.

I would say in general, I really strive to make the right decision. I try to follow the rules, to be honest, and do what is asked of me. Maybe it’s in school, maybe it’s with responsibilities. But I try. I guess I’d say I’m afraid of the outcomes otherwise. But here I am, standing at the end of my junior year, feeling like I’ve kind of done nothing but do the “right” thing.

 Just yesterday, during the moving up ceremony, I couldn’t help but take a step back. First I remembered that time as a Freshmen, finally moving into seats that weren’t just the leftovers. Then I remembered that time last year, as a sophomore. Longingly looking at the senior seats, just thinking that it would be absolutely forever until it was time to sit there. And then there I was yesterday, standing up as a junior, moving into being a senior. When I sat down in the middle section, it was surreal. A mix of emotions flew through me, and yes I know this sounds cheesy but part of me was so excited, because it’s finally time. Yet another part of me wasn’t ready yet. I haven’t done enough yet.

Time is just spinning on by me, and I’ve just spent it trying to make the "right choices".

I want to do the wrong thing. I want to see what happens when I stay up late on a school night talking with my friends and forgetting about homework. I want to see what kind of memories I make. Now, now is the time to do the wrong thing. To make mistakes, to do the unknown, and to go against the grain. Maybe that will be the right choice. I know that sooner than I think I’ll be standing up, watching the juniors move into our seats, thinking back on my high school career and I want to have done the right thing. I want to have lived and learned and made mistakes and been hurt and found strength and laughed till I cried and danced in the rain. I’m sure my friends in the room will be snickering at this, and at the end making fun of me, shouting out a little “carpe diem” or “LIVE LAUGH LOVE! CAMP WALDEN!” but I don’t care. That's who I am. When I get up and walk out of that waxlax a year from now, I want to have done something. I want to be able to look back, and know that through it all I did the right thing.