Awake.

I can't sleep.

Sleep has never worked in behalf of me, it has either been excessive and detrimental, or lacking in mass amounts. Everything feels so black and white, all or nothing, with no in betweens and hardly any room for compromise. I know this is not true, but in times of distress and overwhelming pressure, I'm left to feel caught in the middle eager to run either way. It's strange because it's very rare that I stand my ground in the position that I am in. I have this sort of passive-aggressive technique that really gets me no where and typically ends up in neurotic disorderly thought processes that eat me alive at night.

On the upside of things, despite whatever trauma I may be enduring for the next year, or decade at that, I have been blessed enough to realize that I have the most beautiful and caring people in my life that no attorney can take away. I was baffled by the trust that my family has bestowed upon me, and in times of doubt and insecurity they have always remained and continue to remain right behind me in my trials. This is worth more than anything in my life that I can imagine. I know it sounds silly to say that love prevails all things, but it is true. Love is the energy that flows through the circuits of our body and motivates our words, our actions, and fuels our potential with an unyielding drive that no barrier can stop. I can't sleep because I owe it to these people, to be the person that they so strongly believe in, not only for them but most importantly for myself. Ultimately this ideal person that they see, has always been the person that I have wanted to be. I must move from being my own obstacle and take stand where I am and open my eyes to the person that has been hidden within my buried conscience. Today, well, stand aside, because I'm not fucking moving anywhere without a decent fight.

Once but Forever.

I remember the first time I took an AP English course in high school. I was having trouble starting with the introduction of an essay as always. I tend to hesitate into long hours of the night trying to contemplate how to start out with this amazing big bang, but the truth is it never quite happens that way.

So, it was the first essay of my first AP English class of my Junior year. I was a new student, and I was encouraged so greatly by my previous institution that I was convinced I was deserving of an AP course at this new school. I spent hours mulling over what to write, and frankly I don't remember what the hell I was writing about. All I remember was starting the introduction about heroes, and about superman and something about his S across his chest.

Then, during class period, we exchanged papers to give constructive criticism. After reading the essay from a boy I was slightly interested in, I immediately became embarrassed by my lack of skill in writing. His essay was so direct, to the point, strong and ended with a swiftness of a deadly sword. I saw him raise his brow as he read my paper, and after that day I refused to return to class.

I only really knew two or three people in that class, one was a natural, he did his essays at the very last minute and the teacher swore by his talent. I envied him so, and yet he was still humble enough to never let it go to his head. Another was a girl I was sure had it in for me, she was very catty and sarcastic which seemed with the intent to hurt rather than be witty. The third, well the third was the boy who read my essay.

After several months of ditching AP English and a terrible report card my mom asked me what was going on, I replied "I want to go back to regular English. I'd rather be at the top of the average barrel than the bottom of an excellent one."

I don't know where I had the gut to hold so much neurosis. It hasn't changed much, I still embarrass and disappoint myself from time to time. Instead of cowering in the fear of my self-ridiculing conscience I have met another Lauren that is very well encouraging. This, in fact, is someone I never wish to part with.