An Occasion | Jessica Pierce
A few weeks I had a very special moment with my mom. We had been planning for weeks and finally the time was right. My mom went first and was done relatively fast, then it was my turn.
The oppressive feeling of anxiety and dread flooded me. I looked at my white faced reflection in the mirror and asked myself "Why am I doing this?" As the beautician put the gun to my ear I froze. My eyes widened with shock as I heard the gun click and jumped when the earring shot through my ear, piercing it. Shaking slightly from pent up fear and adrenaline I touched my ear gently. The hot angry skin and tiny gold heart were proof of what had happened.
As I look back on this moment I have many unanswered questions, such as why I did it. I convinced myself it was to commemorate my first year in college, but wouldn't that be memorable enough?
The question of "Why I did it" reminds me of my psychology class. Everyday my professor would start the class by asking "Why do we do the things we do?". I nearly went insane trying to find an answer. There were plenty of theories, for example: We do the things we do because we feel like it. We do it because we don't know any better. I was bored, etc etc. But then the question of "Why" comes around again and never gets an answer. My psych professor had a very good example of this. He asked us: Why do we breathe? We all mumbled, "Because we need to in order to live." He then explained that there is a part in the brain that monitors the oxygen in our body and when we don't have enough we gasp, thus breathing. That was just one answer though. What we said was true, and what he said was true, so in my opinion all one has to do is find an answer that satisfies them and all is well.
When I asked myself "Why", I really wanted an answer. I have another piercing that I got the day before my freshman year of highschool started so I knew what to expect. The soreness, swelling, and threat of infection weren't new to me. Yet, I still went ahead and pierced my ear again. I suppose for now a good rationalization would be because I felt like going through hell for a few nanoseconds with someone I loved.
The oppressive feeling of anxiety and dread flooded me. I looked at my white faced reflection in the mirror and asked myself "Why am I doing this?" As the beautician put the gun to my ear I froze. My eyes widened with shock as I heard the gun click and jumped when the earring shot through my ear, piercing it. Shaking slightly from pent up fear and adrenaline I touched my ear gently. The hot angry skin and tiny gold heart were proof of what had happened.
As I look back on this moment I have many unanswered questions, such as why I did it. I convinced myself it was to commemorate my first year in college, but wouldn't that be memorable enough?
The question of "Why I did it" reminds me of my psychology class. Everyday my professor would start the class by asking "Why do we do the things we do?". I nearly went insane trying to find an answer. There were plenty of theories, for example: We do the things we do because we feel like it. We do it because we don't know any better. I was bored, etc etc. But then the question of "Why" comes around again and never gets an answer. My psych professor had a very good example of this. He asked us: Why do we breathe? We all mumbled, "Because we need to in order to live." He then explained that there is a part in the brain that monitors the oxygen in our body and when we don't have enough we gasp, thus breathing. That was just one answer though. What we said was true, and what he said was true, so in my opinion all one has to do is find an answer that satisfies them and all is well.
When I asked myself "Why", I really wanted an answer. I have another piercing that I got the day before my freshman year of highschool started so I knew what to expect. The soreness, swelling, and threat of infection weren't new to me. Yet, I still went ahead and pierced my ear again. I suppose for now a good rationalization would be because I felt like going through hell for a few nanoseconds with someone I loved.
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