flashback; flashnow.

It’s…been ages.

To apologize or not to apologize?

Thousands–I mean thousands–of things have been happening to me, about me, and with me. I feel so unproductive. It’s nearing the end of the year, and my heart just breaks at the thought of my New Year’s Bucket List, and I know for sure that I’ve barely accomplished anything. I want to cry, crawl into a hole, and just cease to exist for like, two minutes so that I can take a break.

Then again, we all know how crazy that would be. Where’d we go if we didn’t exist for those two minutes?


Plot bunny. How unfortunate.

Anyway, I think that’ll make a great short story to get my writer’s self going. Not only has school been unproductive, writing has as well. I’ve barely got the first chapter, but I’m writing one today. I’ve decided to just suck it up and get going. Or else, I’d never get anything done.

Same with Physics, and Math and English and Bible Survey and…oh, life hurts sometimes.

But I can do this, right? I’ve been positive since the beginning of the year that everything’s gonna be all right, God’s way or my way, doesn’t matter.

And it’s weird.

I mean, awful things are happening around the world. Ebola, ISIS, kidnappings and beheadings–it’s traumatizing. Yet, even with me, the sadness, the tears and so on–I just have this ‘peace’ in me that this year will end well. Things will be better.

And I’m getting there. I will get there.

I’ve had amazing times this year: very first mission trip, completion of two years with braces (even though I still have them…my teeth ain’t that perfect yet *groan*), losing weight and gaining it back (hahahahha), and bonding with people I never thought I would bond with (they’re still annoying though).

It was fun. And that’s what’s pushing me.


Next year will be extremely busy though: SAT, college preparation, etc. And I’m just sixteen. So scared. Really…scared…

But the Lord is my strength. And I will lean on Him.

God bless ❤

Happy living,



i am sorry for myself.

When I was around nine years old, I read a short story called “He Was Sorry For Himself”. (It’s in Enid Blyton’s “The Flyaway Money and Other Stories”). That little story was my most favorite in the whole collection, basically because the title was so odd. The arrangement of those words obviously made it very catchy.

However, looking back now, I realize the real reason I enjoyed it so much was because I had no idea what it meant to feel sorry for yourself. I thought it was just something a fictional character could only feel (God knows what other crazy thought I had), and I constantly made fun of the poor kid because of the stupid things he worried about.

But now as a teen, I’ve come to the ugly realization that I’m always feeling sorry for myself. Even more so than the boy who did in the short story. And it’s terrible. Self-pitying breaks you down to pieces and makes you compare your life to others and blame yourself for certain things that have happened to you and to others. Sometimes it happens so suddenly it takes forever to recover. Isn’t it true? Correct me if I’m wrong.


This sort of progressive self-destruction makes me forget the goodness of the Lord and what He has done for me: giving me a family, an education, food within my reach every single day, two legs, two arms, two eyes, two ears, you get the drill. It’s amazing! It’s the kind of stuff we all take for granted. And yet, when something happens to even the smallest part of our body, we realize how much work it does to keep us alive every second; how much it means to the body.

It just blows you away. Kapooosh.

I need to stop bashing myself for freezing up on stage that one time. Yes, it was entirely embarrassing, but it’s the past. It’s time to smile and appreciate the amazing things that have happened to me. You should too! You’ll realize that you have a lot more to be thankful for than to be ashamed of.


Disclaimer: I do not own that photo.

new blog thingy.

I know, I know, I’m inconsistent. And late in posting. But I wanted something suitable and comfortable…and I couldn’t think of anything to post until last night.


Anyway, since it’s way past my bedtime, I will make this short and sweet. Lately I’ve realized how distracted and disorganized I’ve become. I’m usually not like this, but it’s now affecting my desk (you wouldn’t think that’s a really big thing, but a cluttered desk makes difficult work all the more frustrating), my scholastic motivation, and my relationship with God.


I’m naturally organized, really. But I realized how messy my life’s been today that I nearly cried 😯 I’ve reached points like that before, but usually when I didn’t ace my tests and so on. What? I’m a perfectionist. One that still isn’t able to conform to the fact that nothing will ever be perfect, no matter how hard I work on it (referring to my grades here). Perfection is only in the eye of the beholder. Everyone has a different view on what perfection is. And the way I see it, no one else really does.

I guess mine is based primarily on fear. Fear that I won’t get to college, live a life that has been buried due to the fact I’m being homeschooled (it’s not bad, really), and fear that I will never fulfill my purpose here on earth. I don’t even know what it is. But there are so many things I want to do; so many dreams to come true.

And what’s worse is that I can’t think for the life of me what I want to be. Everyday I find something interesting, the next I realize the amount of crazy work, and then I realize I really have no passion for it. I want to do something that won’t make me feel like dreading work. I see many people do it, and it discourages me a lot. I don’t want that.

And as for being a perfectionist, it’s hard to sometimes accept the limit of my efforts. It’s creating a burden that I want to carry all on my own, and it’s weakening me. I need to just lay it down, and let God take care of it. All of it.


I’ll trust Him.

In the wobbles,


Disclaimer: I do not own any of these photos. All belong to their respective owners.