Composition-Book Pages

Greetings familiar college-ruled lined paper,
         
I've been seeing you a lot lately, haven't I? Though, throughout the past few months, my usage of the symbols and strokes of the English alphabet has been solely for the purpose of everlasting school-related assignment after assignment. As those who are close to me probably know, writing is one of my favorite past times. Not any particular type of writing, just writing in general (though, I do prefer creative writing over essays any day.)

Oh, lines of this composition-book page, may I pour out upon you the inner workings of my soul...? I will make the assumption of your compliance, for you have not once rejected the markings of my pencil to this day.

My life, as of late, has been an event full of mystery. I have reached the "mystical age" of sixteen, the age that a person supposedly gains so many more freedoms than she has already experienced over the course of her first fifteen years. Yes, learning to operate a motor vehicle and date more freely is nice, but there is one more freedom that I have yet to touch upon before now, mainly because I am very afraid to.

This daunting freedom is the liberty of thought.

From my very first days here on Earth, I have had thoughts, as has everyone else, about...well, everything. From the most trifling-"what's for dinner tonight?"- to the most complex,-"why do I even exist in this given dimension?"- thinking has always been a part of my daily life.

As a writer, I enjoy wondering what life is like for people outside of my range of consciousness. I began with other humans as my subjects, mainly those who live in different cities, countries, and continents than I, but as I have matured, I have started to ponder more about things not only beyond my range of consciousness, but the consciousness of the human race as a whole.

One of my favorite questions to think about is simply "Why are things the way they are?" Why are the particles of the universe in constant motion? Why is consumption of H2O a vital necessity for humanity while consumption of H2O2 would result in immediate death? Why do the vast number of elements only differ by a single proton? Why is there still no real proof of widely-believed phenomena such as parapsychology?

Why is there no "real" evidence of a higher being? Why does most of theology center around events that took place thousands of years ago, and why don't these things happen today? Why do people suffer, and why doesn't their God intercede for them? Is He vengeful, or loving? Regretful, or confident? Joyous, or saddened?

Why are humans so much more evolved than all other animals? Historical evidence has shown that the modern human being has only been around for roughly 200,000 years, while some species of fish first appeared some 500 million years ago. Why aren't we dominated by those who have been here long before us?

Why are humans so territorial? Why, in the 11th through 19th centuries did our ancestors pillage and loot currently-occupied land? Why do we still do these things today?

Why do some people believe that it is ok to manipulate others for their own gain? Is there something off-kilter in their frontal lobe, or is it barely a primal instinct for survival? Researchers have estimated that there are about 21 to 36 million slaves on this planet, quite possibly more than there ever has been in history.

Why are we so different? Our very instructions for living are written across a mere 23 pairs of chromosomes, yet I have never met a person who looked distinctly similar to myself. If this is the case, we all must be reasonably different from one another, yet it is problematic when inbreeding occurs due to the "similarity of the genes."

How can some people believe that we are the overlords of the universe? True, there are many atoms of molecules of organelles of cells of tissues of organs of systems that make up the individual, yet there is such a vast amount of space that continues infinitely beyond our spheres of influence. Are we merely the atoms of the Universe?

These are but a few of the questions that are daily fired through my brain's billions of neurons, but do not fret, I don't hold you accountable to any of the answers. At this point in time, these questions must remain unanswered, leaving many open doors to researchers of the present and the future. But, for now, my pencil is becoming dull. Until next time my old friend.