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My Life Is Perfect Essay Research Paper

My Life Is Perfect Essay, Research Paper My life is Perfect My life is perfect. When you sit back and take all factors into consideration, I theoretically couldn t ask for anything more. I ve got parents and siblings that provide me with countless luxuries, loyal friends whose company I genuinely enjoy, more money than I know what to do with, an enjoyable job that I excel at, an extremely promising future ahead of me, and an indestructible feeling of superiority that gets me through the tough times.

My Life Is Perfect Essay, Research Paper

My life is Perfect My life is perfect. When you sit back and take all factors into consideration, I theoretically couldn t ask for anything more. I ve got parents and siblings that provide me with countless luxuries, loyal friends whose company I genuinely enjoy, more money than I know what to do with, an enjoyable job that I excel at, an extremely promising future ahead of me, and an indestructible feeling of superiority that gets me through the tough times. After putting all these attributes into perspective, one can t help but think that my life is an unbridled heaven. To them, I respond with a chuckle and counter-questions: If my life is perfect, then why am I always teeming with such overwhelming hatred? Why do I have such nihilistic outlook on life? And why do I not mind being this pessimistic? If everything is going with the flow, in Shahid-world, then why do I cry myself to sleep nearly every night? The answer isn t anywhere near as profound as you d expect from a psycho of my intellectual caliber. I m not up upset about the disheartening trend of idiocy that runs rampant in pop culture or even the hammering of the lecturing I get everyday no. The reason is simple I don t have the freedom to say two plus two equals five.Whatever crushes individuality is despotism, no matter what name it is called. My biggest strength is knowing my weaknesses and trying to strengthen my weaknesses.Gosh, I wish you people could think the same way. You people tell me that I have a box around my head and that I have to come out of that box and think, if only you could understand that you have the same box around your head too. You lecture me and lecture me and lecture me some more. I still sit there listening to the same things, just worded differently every time. You tell me the same thing over and over and over. Then you ask me, why don t you just get it and we won t have to lecture you over and over? Why why do I have this brain of mine? Why don t I just get it surgically removed? You tell me to do everything you say. If you cannot tell the truth about yourself, you can t tell it about other people, think about what that means (if you don t get that, then read the sentence over and over until you get it). You tell me what to think, but why should I? I have you people to do that don t I? Why don t you get the point, why don t you get that all these lectures have made my brain go haywire, it s sick of them, it s like the sixth sense, but instead of seeing dead people I hear your voices pounding on my brain, shriveling it to pieces. It has taken severe beating, and it s just plain sick of it. Every time I try to voice an opinion, I get shut up because I m the youngest, dammit do I hate to be the youngest. (I bet I can read your mind right now, your thinking, Some people just don t appreciate their possessions, another quote to shut me up). You ask me constantly Why do you live in your own world? Why do you not like to be bothered? Why do you not communicate with us? Well, have you ever thought of this, Maybe if we respect him for what he is and respect his privacy, maybe then, he might communicate with us more? You ask me what I m doing every step that I take even if you know the answer to it or knowingly that it is a useless fact to you. When I m on the phone, Who are you talking to? When I m on the AIM, Who are you chatting with? When I m writing, What are you writing about? Again, whatever crushes individuality is despotism, no matter what name you give it. Not once have I asked you questions that put you in an uncomfortable position, and if I did, I purposely did so to make you, wait a minute, try to make you realize what you do to me, the answer you give to me, I don t even pay attention because I believe in, Don t do to others what you don t want done to you. Not once have I opened up your mail, not once if you ve left something open and even if it looks spicy have I looked at it, not once have I looked at what or who you re talking to when you are on the computer and I walk by not once, not once. You ask me why do I leave this path of suspicion when I do something, my answer to that is, It s your fault, it s you who have sent me into paranoia (I know what you re thinking again). And when I tell you what I m doing or where I m going, what do I get out of you? Chhhk. And a shaking of the head as if I ve done something horrible. You always think you re always right, never doubt yourself when giving me lectures, never willing to accept any philosophies that I say, instead, taking your age to your advantage and say, Who do you think you are? and try to look for ways to shut me up. Well, who do think won t shut up when it s six to one and that one is left speechless because if he opens his mouth he knows that everyone will jump on him and say, No, you re wrong, you re thought is wrong, well, if I m always wrong, then you re always right right? (I can read you re mind again, damn I m good at this game). And if he does open his mouth, he knows another path will lead to the same Dead End: No one understanding anything and everyone jumping on him again. What can he do? I guess a man must learn to endure patiently that which he cannot avoid conveniently. You probably wonder, why when you ask, Do you have anything to say? I stay shut, right? Well here s the answer to that curiosity: There s a philosophy that I ve noticed with you people, when a person has to kill a mouse he doesn t chase after it, instead, he leaves cheese and waits for it to come out and then kills it, if you know what I mean. Aaaah, let s cut this crap, you never understand my philosophies anyway, always trying to find another one that will contradict it, so let me tell you in simple words, you ask, Do you have any comments? and basically awaiting for something wrong to come out to jump on me again, and if something wrong doesn t come out, you force something to be wrong and then jump on me again (I m getting better, I know what you re thinking again). The test of tolerance comes when we are in the majority; the test of courage comes when we are in the minority. You don t always get what you ask for, but you never get what you don t ask for. And in that one case that I do say something, I get the quote, Man you have too much freedom and luxuries. What freedom? The freedom to live in a world of paranoia? Then you know what, take that freedom away and give me the freedom to say two plus two equals five (Wow, I m a psychic, I know what your thinking again). You never respected my opinions or philosophies, or even my privacy, man, if it was within you, you d put a camera in the bathroom to shatter that. Aah, to hell with it, why not make 1984 out of my life? Who wants to be big brother? (oh my god, I m just too good with this psychic thing, maybe I should be one, and no I don t mean what you think I mean by that last sentence).

Remember I told you once, Experience is an asset of which no worker can be cheated, no matter how selfish or greedy his immediate employer may be. And then some how the, Best coaches are the worst players and the best players are the worst coaches came about. You asked me, How do you explain this? That the best coaches don t have any experience about the game but they are the best coaches. Well, if you look at it, coaching, sports, and in particular basketball, is not a game of experience, but of realizing the fundamentals. If a ball is shot from one side there s the greatest chance that it will land on the other side, you get a high arc on your shot there s a greater percentage of the ball going in the basket, etc Life isn t about chances and percentages, it s about experience. Person A cannot tell person B, I know how you feel, when person B s mother or father passed away and person A s mother or father is still alive and he or she never felt the death of a loved one, you get my point, I hope, experience, experience, experience. It is the right that gives you to talk to others while being in their shoes. So when you tell me, I ve been through what you re going through, I laugh at that, cause you have NO idea what High school/teenage life is like nowadays. You have a glimpse, but no detail. Remember, Experience is an asset of which no worker can be cheated, no matter how selfish or greedy his immediate employer may be. When are you going to understand that it s not me pushing you away from me but it s you pushing me away from you? I think you get my point What I look, I am not, what I am, I don t look, what you tried to make me, I am not, what you made me, you tried to not.Let your heart guide you; it whispers, so listen closely and listen to what others have to say as well. You have to allow a certain amount of time in which you are doing nothing in order to have things occur to you, to let your mind think. When you understand one thing through and through, you understand everything. When you know your own strengths and weaknesses, you are better able to know those of others. Once you do, managing people becomes an optimization game, where everyone wins. To see what is right and not do it is a lack of courage. The way to develop the best that is in a man is by appreciation and encouragement not, lectures and disagreements. Anything truly revolutionary is created by a few who see what is true and are willing to live according to that truth; but to discover what is true demands freedom from tradition, which means freedom from all fears. So here hath been dawning; yet another blue day. Think, wilt thou let it, slip useless away? Do what your heart desires, for do you know what lies for you tomorrow?

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