Kaylee: Non-Fic Blogs

I like to imagine being a super rich evil capitalist because it’s fun. And to flaunt my 500 trillion plus dollars, I would need to live in a massive mansion with a lot of comfortable furniture, heated toilets, collectable toys, and a secret mad scientist laboratory in the basement. But, big houses come with tons of management. You think I want to clean 1,000 rooms? Obviously not. I won’t even clean my own room. Heck, it will probably take me another decade after moving in to navigate that house because I’m directionally challenged. Still, I’m rich; I can get someone competent to do that work. Like all rich people, I have to be paranoid too. I can’t hire a human to clean my room; they might find confidential information and steal my wealth. I need a reliable puppet to do all my crap. Like a robot. But, if I got a personal robot, why would I have it limited to cleaning? You don’t get rich with such a narrow mind. It’s got to be efficient and unhackable so that it can help me get through ...

  When I was in second grade, I read a children’s book called “Let’s Do Nothing!” Reading the book made me think about the concept of how to do nothing. And, after a bit, I came to the conclusion that it is literally impossible; you are always in some place in some posture (for the characters in the book, it was sitting). Also experiencing contradictions: you cannot simultaneously not breathe and not hold breathe at the same time. I later learned from a Google Search that “doing nothing” refers to the act of existing with engaging in any purposeful activity, which by my definition would mean lying on the floor or sitting somewhere stilly for chunks of time, staring blankly at the ceiling, a wall, or my computer screen.  I used to, in elementary and middle school, think that spacing out was bad. After all, why would it be good? It is not mandatory for functioning like eating and sleeping, thrilling like playing with friends, informative like exploring the endless field of knowl...

There are many dull and stressful phases in my life, and one of them is now. I’m a high school junior that has to start thinking about college applications on top of my academics and extracurricular commitments. My weekends aren’t weekends anymore. My 10 minute breaks don’t feel like 10 minute breaks. I often have wishful thoughts of returning to the happier moments of my past. And by happy, I mean the carefree times. There is not really one moment that I often think of. I have many notable memories that often replay in my head. Sometimes, I visualize the warm weather of Cancun, Mexico. I enjoyed trying to unsuccessfully pick the coconuts high up in the trees near the hotel we stayed at with my little sister and this other girl whose name I have long forgotten but face I haven’t. We could not find anything long enough for us to hit the coconuts with, so I tried climbing the tree only to slide right back down after getting like six inches off the ground. It was a little disappointing at...

               As an elementary school kid, I never had to do chores routinely. Well, no chores except helping my dad with our vegetable garden, which never felt like a chore because it was relaxing. I never had to cook or clean when we were not hosting an occasional occasion. Expectations have always been like responsibilities that should be taken seriously. The main expectation for me within my family had always been to do well academically and help my little sister do her homework. The latter isn’t that bad. My sister usually does fine with my old, messy notes, tossed in some overflowing bins scattered throughout the house. Thus, many of her questions are about where I place my bio or history or chem notes. Ironically, I usually know where they are. I guess I am messily neat. Most of her remaining questions are on math because I practically never take notes for that subject. I kind of regret it because she drags me off my bed to her room t...