Midnight Impulse

learning experiences and impulsive decisions

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Almost All Packed Up

I’m off to St Petersburg for my MUN trip tomorrow morning.  I’ve been up in my room packing for an hour and a half, and so far all I’ve got left is the last-minute packing like toothbrush and computer.  I’m excited for the trip part but sort of nervous about the MUN meetings themselves.  I don’t feel as well prepared as I was last year, nor as knowledgable.  My resolutions aren’t that fantastic and I’ve already set my mind on not trying to get them passed but rather spend my time debating points and making speeches in favour of or against amendments and resolutions.  I didn’t speak much last year so I figure I should this time.

We have a really busy trip chock-full of sightseeing and dinners, plus the three days of the actual MUN meetings.  I had all my outfits planned out and written down, so packing this time was a breeze.  The only tricky part was the fact that we’re not sure what the weather is like.  The forecast says it’s fine weather (from -2C to 10C) but then there’s pictures of very light snow.  We’ve been told to dress warm and bring our winter gear.  I hate winter trips.  They’re always heavy and bulky and seem excessive.

Anyway, I’m going to be in Russia from Saturday to Saturday, so I’m staying there a week.  I will be sharing a room with my friend Skillet and another girl, Pasta.  There’s four boys coming with us and our two teacher chaperones.

I should be off to sleep, I have to get up at 4, be at the airport at 6, and fly at 8AM.

Goodnight everyone and see you sometime,



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Death is so unrealistic

It’s emotions time.  Am I the only one around here that cannot comprehend the fact that people just … end?  Anytime I hear about someone dying, specifically someone my age, I get all depressed over it, thinking over some stranger’s death and taking it personally.  But how can someone my age die?  I have ambitions and goals in life.  I’m far too young to die. 

Another one that scares me is hearing about journalists getting killed.  Most recently, I heard about the two French journalists that got kidnapped and killed after interviewing a man in Mali.  I mean yeah, I realise it’s a dangerous job and I can get killed for it too … but that’s it?  I’ll just not be here anymore?  At all?  That doesn’t seem logical at all.

I’ve been wondering if anyone else ever feels this way.


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I was discussing politics with my dad just now.  I was telling him on how I disagree with the idea of making kids in public school pray, whether they are Christian or not.  He disagreed with that and said I don’t like the whole praying in school thing because I’m not devout.  “So, you’re an atheist.”  I shrugged and asked whether that’s a problem for him.  Apparently it is.

He didn’t take into consideration the fact that him and every other adult in my family has used Christianity and religion as a club rather than a welcoming idea.  I’ve grown up forced to pray, forced to believe.  Honestly, I’ve always had my doubts about the whole Jesus story, ever since I was 5.  More on that later.

Now: Technically, I wouldn’t consider myself an atheist.  I still believe.  I believe in destiny.  And reincarnation.  And my own version of how human souls are distributed.  I didn’t tell my dad about any of that though.  I figured he doesn’t really care.