What is your purpose in life?

I am only sixteen years old. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do in life; I barely know what I want to do. Through my experiences, I've learned things that inspire me, things that have helped me, things that have hurt me, and others.
One three-day-long experience that I think of everyday is a leadership seminar called HOBY. In my life as my "pre-HOBY" self, I knew right from wrong, I had done some community service, valued my family and friends, and knew exactly what I wanted to do in life to make sure that I was happy. During HOBY, though, I learned to open my eyes, mind, and heart. I was taught not only to do community service, but how to. I was given so many opportunities to make other people smile, whether it was delivering gifts to the elderly at a nursing home, or cheering extra loud to show your appreciation for someone. My groups that I spent the whole three days with became my family. After the last meeting, my dad walked with me back to my dorm as tears rolled down my face because of the realization that I would not see my HOBY family the next morning and that the best weekend of my life was ending.
I cried all the way home and again when I got home, knowing that it was over. These intense emotions, though, inspired me. I stopped stressing out about school and remembered how great I felt by making other people smile. I signed the HOBY commitment to doing 100 hours of community service by the next seminar, not because I had to, but because I wanted to.
I think my "pre-HOBY" self would answer the proposed question with something along the lines of "write for a fashion magazine," or "become a mom," but now I look at the question and actually think about it. What is the thing I want to accomplish most? My answer: I want everyone to feel at some point in their lives the way I felt that weekend. I want to be someone's cheerleader (another thing I learned at HOBY: you can't be sad when cheering as loud as possible!). I want to help someone remember love and happiness who has lost those feelings along the way.
So what is my purpose in life? I don't know exactly, but what I do know is that every time I see a glow stick, meet someone named Bob, eat a burrito, or hear "Don't Stop Believing," I will be reminded of my commitment and desire to make other people feel true happiness.

A New York Moment

I visited New York City with one of my best friends in July to see the Fashion exhibit at the Met. We made it a day trip and took the train down and back, and had a ton of fun.
I don't know why I waited to long to put up these pictures, but now I'm looking at them and missing the summer and this day! (even though it rained the entire time...)

Camp

she grew up in a nice neighborhood, but it didn't do her no good

note to self:
layers, denim+zippers, stripes, oversized shirts, button downs, clean sweaters, plain white t's, tucked in

The End [1]

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This was the end. Not the beginning or even the beginning of the end, but the end. This was the end of the end. This was the end of a life, the end of a body, of a mind, a heart. This was the end, and Jenna knew it. She knew it well. Too well, even. Jenna knew too much. She knew too much sadness, too much heartache, too much anger. She was so informed about these that it became dangerous. It became unhealthy. It was unhealthy for her to be so sad, to be so familiar with heartache, to be able to hold so much anger. But it was all going to end now. Right now.
It was very early Monday morning. Her house was so quiet that every move she made, with every squeak of her bed, she feared waking her parents, her brother, or even her dog. Her house was so dark that she could barely see her hands resting lightly in her lap, or even the small plastic baggie she was moving between her fingers and thumb. She closed her eyes, completely blinding herself. All she could think about, all that she could see on the back of her eyelids was the end. Not the beginning of the end, but the end of the end. She was finally ready to end this.