I haven’t blogged for a while. Why you may ask? Well, for a college student, I have midterm exams this week. As a teacher, I have stayed up practicing charisma so I can teach bunch of high school students who deserted the comfyness of their beds to be at seminary (church institution) to be inspire before school starts. As the oldest (as accounted) of six terrible-laid back-loud mouths-stiffnecked-hardheaded-LOVING (ahahah) siblings, my parents delegated some huge responsibilities (did you just jinxed me? Lol) that I have to check up after every chores that aren’t mine, clean every mess they leave behind, clean and dry dishes my sister forgot (how could she?) and feed four beauty-magnifying-adorable puppies, not to mention the laundry (oooh how I hate laundries) and etc  times 1,000 (and that ladies and gentlemen is not exaggeration). But what there is to blog? I mean, nothing crazily stupid happened! It’s not like I stole my dad’s car because I was too darn slothful to catch the bus to the college, or the part where I confronted my teacher about her teaching skills, or the part where I walked in late during seminary class (as a teacher, you have to be an example and be there before the students! Especially when it comes to seminary), or when I slept in class while the teacher had all the other students eyed me for about a minute and a half (my friend told me that I was drooling! How embarrassing! Ugh) or when I told my uncle off because he merely think it to be okay to talk crap about my dad to his friends (if I find out my devilish sisters have been talking smack about me, people declare WW3 immediately-yeah that’s overstatement, I couldn’t even give them a piece of my mind without distractions) and when he almost slapped me publicly! Nothing really happened throughout my dismissal! I was pretty A-Okay (or at least what my optimism-self lies to me)! For that I vow not to miss a blog again but for today (Friday) till Monday, till we meet again!



FEAR ITSELF (reblogged)

What am I scared of? Here’s what I’m scared of. I’m scared that if I miss one post then I’ll miss more. I’m scared that if I let one deadline slip then the concept of the deadline will be invalidated, that they’ll fall from my arms one by one like dishes on a waiter’s last day on the job and that everything I’m working for will be undone. I’m scared I’ll lose my faith. I’m scared I won’t do anything ever again. I’m scared I’ll forget how to work. I’m scared I’ll forget how to care.

I’ve probably mentioned this before. I think about it a lot. I worry a lot about not writing. That fear of not writing makes it harder to write. The fear of not creating makes it harder to create. The fear of not being heard makes it harder to speak. And, though I’ve fought my way out of some of these prisons, others are arrayed about them in concentric rings – and, though I’ve fought my out of some of these prisons, the doors I left open behind me sometimes look like hungry mouths.

At times like these, though, when I don’t know what to write, it becomes hard to decide: Would taking a day off be a strike out against the prison of my anxiety? Or would it be taking a step back through the door of my overwhelming apathy?

My anxiety is sneaky, and I’ve learned to be suspicious of my emotional state. My fear will disguise itself as fatigue, as stress, as fun, as laziness – whatever it takes to keep me from confronting whatever it is I dread for just a bit longer.

I have learned to be patient with myself, because if I am not patient then the fear becomes bigger, becomes self-justifying, becomes imminent and insurmountable. But I have also learned to be firm with myself, to set boundaries, limits, deadlines, so that I know that I mean business. I’m basically parenting myself, trying to lead my own fearful child heart by example, trying to show myself that if I just keep moving forward, with cleverness and determination, there will be nothing to fear.

I have never trusted authority. Most authority comes about as happenstance, rather than being rooted in any logical justification. Those who find authority are frequently those who seek it, and I tend to have a hard time trusting anyone who seeks authority. These authorities, though, help us to keep our lives simple: They provide an instruction, even if an incorrect one, a direction, even if it makes us lost, and they keep us from having to ask ourselves at every given moment: What are we doing? Why?

I have denied external authority. Because of this, I must found my own internal authority, and foster it, and make it as wise as I can. I must create a leader of a nation of one.

I will raise him; he will raise me; and, together we may yet fly.

“She’s the best” she bragged

                 No one was ever born into perfection, we all had to work our way there. At one point of an aging life, they would realize that no matter how successful they have become they at one verge lost it. Everybody loses and throws it away sometimes, I did too! My parents would look with an eye single to what I am to them, there perfect daughter, little did they know, I too was at the edge of choosing between them and my unforeseen conscience of doubt, that powerful tool Satan has used against us. In the world, no matter the differences, FAILURE stands as our common denominator.