The Perks of Being a Cuban.

Teenagers often thake themselves too seriously. Their problems are the worst in the world. Ther life is a tragic kindom of pain and suffering. Their middle name is angst.
I don't do that. I don't think I can. I think I'm far too much a realist to ever succumb to the mental shutdown and isolation that is a teenager's supposedly dramatic life. My life doesn't suck. I'm cheerfully content with my place in the universe and eagerly await the future, but am not desperate for a better tomorrow. With life comes the ups, the downs, and the in-betweens. Life brings you to that point of euphoria and then brings you all the way down to such a bluthering idiot you cry at Carrie Underwood winning American Idol. and sometimes, life is just there, passing you by, nothing good happens, nothing bad hapens, it just ... happens. And I'm content with the "just-happenings" of life. I see no reason to force life to bring me up. Nor do i avoid the downward journey, as it is inevitable and will better itself.
People take themselves too seriously. I realize that more and more everyday as I notice the torture some people put themselves through over stupid teenage bullshit. You're 16, 17, whatever. It's not the end of the world. In fact, its the beginning. Realize the uselessness of the day to day tragedy, ad learn to find the inner nerd in yourself. Fall down to make someone laugh. Do an impression of a funny teacher. Be outspoken. Be everything you envy. Create your own destiny. Guide your own way.
I use empty cilches because, as shitty as they may sound they're true. At this age, we now form ourselves for the future. Who do I want to be? I know now that I do not want to be a chemist, mathematician, or Historian. Thats the kind of stuf I think about. Why torture yourself with the empty negatives that will eventually pass when you can surround yourself with the positives?
Why did I write this? It's so cliche. It sounds like a graduation speech and it started as an observation. It is so not written well, cliches and the like. Ms Wortman would give me a 78, at most. I wrote this, because I was bored. I was thinking about what happened tonight and realized tehe pettiness of it all, and how I wasted an hour of my day. And i noticed that it was just a stupid silly waste of time. Again, taken too seriously.
What is emo. A bunch of mellowdramatic kids dressed in black. What's funny is they complain about life while most of thee kids are rich kids raised in the classiest of class that is suburbia. It's hilarious. "No one loves me blah blah blah"... Thats because mommy and daddy are off buying you another car. LIFE DOESNT SUCK!
I think Im writing this inspirational post (its supposed to be inspirational, read closer!) because i read one of my favorite books again, and aain, and again after watching Sesame Street this morning. Oh the Places you'll go by Doctor Seuss. Life is full of change, constantly moving. You learn something new every day. You grow change and evolve every day. KID YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!!! Thanks for the book Ms Eaton, I don't know why I'm paranoid enough to think you read this.

This post maybe all over the place. You don't have to read, but if I don't get all f this outon "paper" my brain will explode faster than if someone were to tell a jock that they have π JUGs (credit: Spivak [not sure how to spell it, don't really care to know either].)

I don't like dealing with people whose main agenda is to start drama and bicker and cause every single person who crosses their path to havea CRAPPY day. I don't really want to mention who, as this person does in fact have a way with finding outt crap and I really do not feel like getting bitten in the ass today. Honestly tell me, do I seem like the type of person who hangs up on someone when the conversation isn't going my way? Nope. If you knew me at all you'd know that I like to talk things out until the conversation does in fact finish in my favor. But you don't know me, at all, because you haven't even tried to ge to know me. As Robert, you've known me for 16 years, but what about Robert as a person, Rob. The sarcastic kid who does almost anything for a laugh around his good friends, the Rob who can win any argument no matter how smart the person with his sarcastic comebacks alone. Did you know I was sarcastic? I didn't think you did. You've never been there, and you always think you've beeen, but you haven't. Graduation wasn't a big deal for me, you were there, OK? Fine. What about my Emmaus homecoming. Even though I didn't have one, I knew you were "too busy"(again) to even go. My ring ceremony, another xcuse. Granted I didn't really want the ring, but mygodmother my uncle and my parents were there. Why weren't you? Why have we never had a conversation, as equals? Why have you always imagined yourself on a pedestal, above me, scolding me, like a parent to its child and not like what we actually are. I wish you knew your brother better than he knows himself. But if you refuse to then it doesn't really matter does it?

They made Miss Eaton cry today, twice in one eternally long 28 minute class. IT seemed like an hour, I couldn't believe what I was watching. She was so vulnerable, so broken. Like all of her dreams of being the perfect teacher were crushed by a few assholes who simply do not care about anyone or anything. They think they're "the shit" and will do anything to prove that they are. Watching her cry they probably weren't sorry, or remourseful, they probably felt accomplishment. Lord knows they've never felt that in her class before, since they've accomplished nothing else. It was horryfying to see her reach that point and see her run out into the hallway. Ho wcould anyone do that to a teacher? On teachers appreciation week? And to sucha dedicated teacher too. How many teachers make themselves available for assistance every night until 11:30 or later? How many teachers are willing to sit with you foras long as it takes to make sure you understand exactly how to write a good paper? Not many. And to watch all of her hard work go down the drain in 28 minutes was horibble. Why do I still want to be a teacher?