Breakable Wall

Sometimes it's so frustrating when people who are considered higher, more learned, or more experienced than ourselves, give opinions that we don't really agree with. Like today - some of my friends and I heard about a person who did a some pretty offensive things. So we decided to bring it up with an older experienced adult for his suggestions. But his advice was that he was glad we were stirred up about it - happy that we wanted to do something about it - yet he said that things like that happen, and sometimes we just have to accept them.

But I disagreed. I wanted to say that there wouldn't be a fire of opposition in us, if we couldn't do something about it. I wanted to say that we don't just watch the world burn - we're in the world. I wanted to speak up but, he was the type that wouldn't care about my opinion - I'm not the expert like him, how would I know better? In fact, a challenge might be looked down upon, even by my friends.

It's like there's this level - this wall - of power in the world. There's the child, there's the adult. This is the worker, that is the boss. Here's the experienced person, and here's the new man. There's the president, and look, here's a citizen.

But sometimes a child can see things the adult overlooks. Sometimes the worker knows what's going on better than the boss, and would tell the boss if given the chance. Sometimes the new man knows a better way, sometimes a president forgets he needs the vote.

So when we're the adult, the boss, when we're the experienced person, or the president, we have to remember what - or who - makes us great. We have to remember who we were before we were great - remember to be open-minded. Because are there really adults if there are not children? Bosses if there are no workers? Presidents if there are no citizens?

And what makes a great leader so great is that he or she recognizes that fact - sees through that wall of power. Knows that no matter where people are in "rank", we're all created equal - that we're all human. That even a child can teach a significant lesson. That there might be a wall, but it's on the same land.

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the little message

My history teacher was talking about the Black Death a few days ago. And he made me think - what if an epidemic suddenly came here, now, and saw to the death of thousands? What if death was a fact, if every day people we knew and loved were dying? What if we had to suddenly face death ourselves?

And, of course, we know that isn't going to happen - it couldn't happen. Which is precisely why it would be so terrible if it did happen. What would you do? What would disappear from our dreams, what would we see as really important? Would we start praying every second? Would we cry? Or would we live for the moment - and meet death with nothing more than acceptance?

And that's what my story, in the post right below this, is all about.

My 14th Century Shadow

The woman breathed in deeply and let the crisp cold air surround her lungs. Suddenly, mid-breath, she came to a halt in the dead center of the street with the confronting realization.

Yes, she could smell it.

Or rather, she could feel it – feel it curling in-between the dress folds, feel it slapping harshly against her cheeks, and feel it brutally stinging her heart. Yes, she could smell it – she could feel it: that mingled cry of fear hanging above like a mass of clouds. It had come: the Black Death. The townspeople had known it was coming – had waited for it even – until the day it came. However, it was only at the plague’s arrival that their minds changed from the silent patience to panic.

The woman continued walking briskly. Her total body was still numb with shock – it felt like she wasn’t human. There was no more sense of time. No, none at all. Death haunted, and death watched. Suddenly all the material wishes she had ever dreamed of having – money, clothes, a grand house, even servants - had surprisingly disappeared. They weren’t important, they didn’t matter anymore.

Now, she only wanted to survive. She wanted hope, yearned for life, and everything beautiful to be found in it. Now, she only wanted her daughter to recover from this hovering death. But she was just a mouse cornered by the serpent. She slammed the door.

The next thing the weary woman heard was her daughter’s feeble voice calling to her, and she then rushed to her bedside, but stopped. The stench – it was unbearable. And to see flesh rotting - dead flesh - on a live human, her very own daughter, to see the glassy eyes, and the bleeding rashes - yes, she always hesitated for just a second, before going on.

“Yes, darling?” She held back just a little.

“I’m dying.” She whimpered.

“You don’t know that, you mi–”

“Nooo.” Hurting tears gushed out. “I’m dead, look at me. Mama . . . tell everyone I’m sorry.”

“What? You have nothing to be sorry about.” She tried desperately to calm her child.

“Yes, I do. I’ve done everything wrong. I’m scared - I don’t want to die. Why do I have to die?” She moaned. “Why didn’t we run away from this, Mama? Why didn’t we spend our money to live like the nobles, while we had the chance? Why, Mama, why? I don’t want to die. I’m too young to die. And in a few years no one will even remember my name.”

“Darling, we couldn’t leave – you know that.” The daughter tried to speak, but her mother put her finger to her lips. “Papa’s work is here, besides, where would we have gone? Where could we have fled? As for living like nobles, how could we be remembered as the people who lived only for the moment? It’s okay, you’ll be all right. You don’t need to be remembered as someone great or famous, what’s really worth living for, is being remembered in a heart that you have touched. And you’ve certainly accomplished that. Darling, it’s all right, I love you.”

The mother didn’t care anymore about the smell, about the sight or the feeling of her child. She cuddled her daughter gently. “Hold on,” she whispered.

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Just the Shards

So I was wrong.

Our dreams - our goals - they do not always come true. And it doesn't seem right to say, and it doesn't seem right to hear. But people can - and people will - crush us. They can hurt our souls, they can make us cry. And sometimes it's better to acknowledge, than to hide, the facts. Sometimes it's better to open up the bottle, even if you have crash it against the wall & watch while the glass shards fly, than to keep it all inside. I have to say, the hardest part about our dreams is trying to distinguish between whether they can become reality or if they really are something we need to give up on. But I always like to say, before you give up, remember why you held on.

When I was around seven, I took ballet. I loved it. I would practice with my friends, I would twirl around the house, I would make my little sister dance with me: it was what I would do forever. And somehow I knew that with all my heart. But suddenly, my parents made me quit because of schoolwork.

When I was ten, I was playing on soccer teams. I loved it, running around with the ball at my feet - at my command - and maneuvering quickly around my opponents. I still have my awards and trophies to prove it. But I had to quit again to focus on studies.

Throughout this, I was ice skating every once & a while (I started about when I was five). And I started getting really good. I could jump, spin, and complete the arabesque to perfection. People told me I could go places. I put my heart into it - it was my life. But, about ten years later, my parents wouldn't drive me to the rink any more. That did break me.

And what do you do, when the people who are supposed to love you the most, don't believe in your dreams - don't let you follow them? What do you do? I realize that they wanted my sister (they made her quit stuff also) and me to focus on our studies. I know that they thought they were doing what's best. I know that. But also I know that if they could see just an ounce of how much they hurt me, they might have done something different. But how do you tell someone more than what you've already said? And ever since I've always noticed that the first thing a gold medalist says, after winning, is that they owe it to their family.

So yeah, it's not the biggest issue. I wasn't starving, no one was trying to kill me, I didn't have a fatal disease. But the big problems always start small, no? Anyways, you know I didn't go to the Olympics - you have to have start young & stick with it. It's out of reach. Dream gone. But dreams can go - can be ruined. Yet, sometimes we forget that we can dreams new dreams. If we can't do something one way, we can do it another way. Just because someone crushes one goal, doesn't mean we can't just think up another - because we can. We can have new dreams, we can keep going.

And you know what? I forgive them, because you have to let go to hold on again. Because somehow, it makes me stronger. We can lose dreams, but we never ever lose the ability to dream new ones. Just believe in yourself, even if it seems like you're alone. Because people will love you for it. Because you owe it to yourself.

(would love to read your comment)


It's Who

You know how they say it's who we're with, not where we are? It's so true. Wherever I am, the place may seem great - but it's nothing compared to the people who might be there. Or, in other words, the people are the ones who make the place. I seriously don't know what I'd do without my friends - ranging from people I say "Hi" to everyday from my best friends, and to the people I hang out with each second, from even to, you, my blogger friends :)

Like today - I had my black belt pre-test, and I was kind of nervous. And you know how sometimes we tend to think the worst under stress: which would be failing for me. But many of my friends were like, "Oh, you'll just blow them away, girl." And I love that: being able to borrow confidence outside of myself. Kind of like how music can make us dance, even when we don't want to.

And I did great on the test - I knew I could - I just wasn't sure if I would. It was kind of crazy though - the whole pre-test. When I first entered the room, where a dozen of us were testing, you could smell almost the pressure and hear the whispered fears. I hate that - going from the blue skies outside to an atmosphere where no one smiles. Probably not a good thing - considering how much my friends playfully tease me about how I can't not smile. But the only thing we should fear is fear itself, no?

So here is something for you. It's not too polished, but you'll get the jist of it :)

To All my Friends

Old and new; young and old;
Stayed and left; gone and remained;
To the ones who laugh with me;
To the ones who laugh at me;
To the ones who think I’m cool and clever;
To the ones who will stick with me forever;
The friends who think I’m absurd and weird;
To the ones who never ever feared;

For the ones whom with I’ve cried,
During the times when I’ve been tried;
To the friends who’ve shown me the way;
To them who never let me forget how to play;
To the friends who forgive;
The ones who taught me how to live;
For the ones who are always there;
For them who constantly care;

To the friends who carried me over valleys;
For the ones who’ve shown me the deep dark alleys;
For the friends who make themselves well heard,
Flying free like a bird;
For the friends who’ve been there through thick and thin;
For the friends who value me as much as I do them;
To my close friends; and to the ones I barely knew;
To the friends I’d want to know more,
Deeper and deeper to the core;

For the ones who are honest;
For the friends who demand respect;
The ones who make me smile,
For ones who helped me go the other mile;
To the ones who showed me beauty;
To the ones who’ve made clear my duty;

For the ones who never backed up from a fight;
For my friends who were humble with all their might;
To especially my best friend;
To the friends I’d die for;
To the ones who truly help me amount
This is to you, my friends,
Who I’d die without

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Shining Darkness

"Life is like hiking up a mountain." There he was: off and away on one of those talks again.

"And what's drives us up, past the scheming rocks and lurking snakes, is the view of the sunset at the top." The man from my church thoughtfully finished his grand sentence.

Yes, the notion did sound beautiful, but the idea didn't seem to sink in. I mean, what happens after we reach the mountaintop? Do we die from the magnificence? I doubt. For we climb up in life to go back down, and we go down to climb up once more. Life's like that - filled with twists & curves, ups & downs.

So really it is not that we have one mountain - or one sunset in our lives - it is that we have many mountains to climb, and numerous sunsets to see. In other words, things may bring us down in life from our mountain top, but we always go back up to glimpse another setting sun. Because it's worth it - it's worth getting through the tight spots to get to the amazing ones. Though sometimes we wonder why couldn't we just stay up there on the high mountain forever.

But if we could, would we? For the bottoms of our mountains - the hard parts of life - make us realize how great the sunset really is. Without evil, we wouldn't fully recognize the good. Without the sins, we couldn't see the mercy. Without hate, we couldn't understand the greatness of love.

For example, the grass is green, right? Well of course, I mean everyone knows that. But, what if it wasn't green? What if the grass was gray all year around except for one week - one chance - to be green? We would definitely notice that the grass was green for that one week - for one week we would marvel at it's color. But because the grass isn't gray, we hardly notice the luscious green stalks crying out the delicate dew drops. It's just a fact to us usually, and nothing more.

And so, without knowing what it's like at the bottom of a mountain, we would never be able to feel the complete beauty of the radiant setting sun on mountaintop. Without the downs in life, we would never recognize the ups - never fully know the beauty. So while we may despise our downfalls and heartbreaks, they in fact show us realize how great life can be.

(would love to hear your comments!)
{thanks to my followers :) }


Porcelain Wings

Ah! sometimes I feel
like a mariposa
Yes, a butterfly
Made: porcelain china

My beauty lures
They touch my wings
They know not better
For hurt - it stings

Yes! I should be a mariposa
Flutter up
Now down
No straight path
Yet painted like a clown

Ha! I could be a mariposa
In a cocoon
Finding who I am
Weaved in a loom

Ah! I am a mariposa
For though confronted
With many things
Once a time misled
I still have my wings

Free to fly
Up in the sky
Yes, a butterfly

{please comment :) }


Tall Atheist Asian Male

Tall atheist Asian male. Can't you see him? Right there. Do you think we'd like him - maybe become friends? He's tall & skinny, but maybe we can't believe he doesn't know faith. He's dark & Asian - not Caucasian. Would we talk to him? Or ignore him for what we've seen and heard? Because he's different? Do we want to converse - see what's inside? Or keep our distance, maybe hide. So would we see him differently?

Should we see him differently?

We automatically judge by the outside - and that's okay. I mean, we express ourselves by what we wear, how we present ourselves, what we believe in. But to judge someone only by the outside - that is the problem. There are so many differences in the people of this little world: race, gender, faith, culture, origin, and more. However those things I just listed are not everything. It's not how a person thinks, or what he or she might dream, or what he or she values about life. We have to dig deeper, I mean we might not know how someone is so scared that she won't be accepted, or how he just wants to play with the other neighborhood kids. And maybe we have a problem with the religion issue - can't understand it. But is that really Christian like, to think so?

It can be so crazy how different we are - our perceptions are like our fingerprints. Yet how similar we can be in the inside. I used to think I was so different. I would do anything for my friends, I wanted to be accepted, I wanted to fulfill my dreams, I wanted to love. Yet now I see that, although we may be vastly different on the outside, we are all so alike on the inside. I know: we're far from identical, we aren't anything near twins, we are each unique. However what's inside is similar, it's not just me; many of us would do anything for our friends, most of us want to be accepted, we want to love, and please raise your hand if you don't want your dreams fulfilled.

That tall atheist Asian male. Can you see him? Right there - there in our mind. Are we going to hate him because he's different? Because we're different too. Are we going to introduce ourselves & then maybe chat?

Let's try.

(would love to read your comments!)


The Art of the Hands & Feet

So yesterday was board breaking night at my Tae Kwon Do class. And board breaking is always interesting - interesting to see, to watch, and even to do. There are several ways someone can break a board, but usually you use your bare feet or hands to smash through [& I won't lie - sometimes it can hurt!). So last night I decided to do a side kick through three boards, a round kick through two, and an elbow smash & palm heel (2 boards each). And I know, it can sound like a lot, right?

But I’ll let you in on something: just because we’re able to break boards at Tae Kwon Do, doesn’t mean we can. And at first I thought this was just one of my ideas, but then another black belt thought it also, “It’s your mind – it's what you think that is important,” not just our body’s ability. I mean, “Tae Kwon Do” means the art of the hands and the feet, but what controls the hands and the feet?

In other words, if we think we cannot break a board, even though it may be effortless to do so physically, then that will affect - and can make harder - the board break. But, if we tell ourselves that we can break a board, even though it may be difficult, we can usually break it with ease. That’s kind of amazing, when you think about it - how the mind & confidence hold the potential to make us so much stronger than we might be otherwise.

And this isn’t true just for Tae Kwon Do – it’s true for life. Sometimes we think we can’t do something, so we don’t - or we don’t accomplish something, because we can’t. It’s as simple as that, right? But it’s not. One of my favorite quotes (from “Batman Begins”) is “Training is nothing; will is everything.” And it’s true. Not that training is useless or meaningless – it’s not. It's just that training without being driven by the will is useless. We can be trained to write a poem, but if we still think we can't - then we probably won't. We can be trained for a job, but if we don't want to do it right, then we probably won't.

We can probably each make a list of what we think we can’t do, but we have to realize that’s what we think. And we have the power to change what we think. And, consequently, what we think is what we "know." We can all break through our boards if we know we can, even though it may hurt. We can do anything, as long as we believe we can - as long as we hold onto the thought that we can.

And so the art of the hands and feet is really the heart -
& not only what it believes inside of us, but also what we believe in it.

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An Insignificant Power

If love is friendship set afire, then song is poetry brought to life with a beating heart.

Today I had my first voice lesson this semester, and it went pretty well. It's been a while since I've taken voice lessons, but, starting it up again, I can feel song tugging at my heart once more. Music is sometimes so hard to explain, maybe because we don't usually just hear it. We feel it. We feel it vibrating within our body, and soaring through our mind. It's so powerful - beautifully powerful.

A lot of people have been asking me what I want to do with my life, but, to be honest, I'm not quite sure yet. I'm afraid of committing to just one thing, and then being stuck with it. Sometimes I wish we were given more than one life. I mean, I want to live when the Egyptians built their mighty pyramids - I wish I could see what it was like to live in a drafty medieval castle. I want to try one life as an actor - and maybe another as a lawyer. I want to live in different cultures - see what's it's like. But I can't, and that's something that makes life beautiful - it gives us one try. However, it's also a reason why books are so great: they can take us there, to different lives through others' eyes, with just words.

However, I've realized how poor our rich meaningful words really are. I almost hate saying that, because words are powerful. Don't get me wrong - words can take us back in time: let us see what the world was like, what it is like, what it can be. We can read about being in a deep green meadow with nearby trees towering to lend their shade. We can read about running to feel the gentle breeze batting at our hair & smelling the sunlit roses, or seeing the strong horses prancing by with their rippling muscles. We can read about dropping a pebble into the river, and watching it clash against the water with a bubbly thud. We can almost "see" these things. We can almost hear them . . . feel them . . . taste them. But somehow it's not the same as the real thing.

Words create images - but being there, really seeing it - only then can we know the absolute beauty and detail of something. Sometimes words are just copies of what's really there. I mean, we can read about a wedding - the smile on the bride's face, the emotion on the groom's. But really being there - it's something else. It can touch our hearts & somehow we'll never forget it. You can read about me describing music & songs, but it's nothing like feeling your favorite song surge throughout you. Words are so poor compared to the real thing.

And I know, the pen is mightier than the sword, right? I know the pen's strength and the ink's might. I'm thrilled with writing and I truly believe that stories, poems, and everything built with words can be unbelievable. I'm just pointing out that it's different experiencing something for ourselves, than learning it through others' eyes. Maybe the best way to make myself clear, is love. Trying reading about love - a father & mother's love, a sibling's, a friend's, a husband & wife's love - and then comparing it to the real thing.

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Simple Beauty

Sometimes I get lost
Just so you will find me

And sometimes I run away
Just so you can catch me

And lift me off my feet again
Just because it’s so great

And then I’ll know
That you are mine
And I am yours

Don't have time to write much, so I posted a poem by me for you to read & critque. While it's the shortest poem I've written, it's just about my favorite. I guess because there's a lot that can be said with just a few lines, no? Also, I posted a picture that I snappped while traveling a couple months ago. Would love to hear your comments! Enjoy :)


Unlimited Limits

So yesterday my English teacher was chatting with my class about all the rules you have to follow with literature and grammer. She talked about the rules we have to use to define literature, about the rules that make a story a story, about the rules to use when writing. And she went on & on explaining them to us. But then she stopped and suddenly challenged us by asking, "Why do we have to know the rules?" Maybe she wanted to perk up the class a bit. She then answered her own question by stating, "We learn the rules so we can break them." And I was like, "What?" That totally isn't something you expect to hear from an English teacher - especially an English teacher. She went on, "Why have rules if we can't break them? Why do we have rules, if we can't challenge them?"

At first, I was thinking that's wrong - we don't have laws just so we can disobey them. There are rules in place to help us - they're there to follow as well. But I realize now what she meant. She meant more that when people set boundaries for us - for what we can and cannot do in life - we have to learn them. We learn what people tell us we can't do, so that we can show them that we can.

And on a bigger scale - people have told me that I'll never suceed, that I'll never get a job, or even get married. Those are limits people have set for me - leashes hooked to collars around my throat. Those are sores people have tried to cut into my skin. Those are my boundaries, and I'm going to break them. Because people can tell us what we can and can't do, but only we get to decide if they're right.


Why not?

I still find it funny how simple things - like choices - can be when we're younger. When I was around five or six, it was my total & complete dream to have a horse. And I know, that's a wish many girls share :) So I would play "horsies" with my best friends around the yard, I would draw horses, and I would even read/look at pictures about horses. So one day, the big question came to my parents. And I asked them (in my high-pitched voice at the time), "Can I please get a horse? Pleaasse, Mommy?" My Mom would just look at me and say, "Honey, our yard isn't big enough for a horse." And, of course, I had what I thought was the perfect simple solution, "Well, why can't we just move?"

Then, six years later, I met a girl who was five and wanted a horse with a passion like I once did. And she really liked me - she'd follow me around and tell me all about her life - which I thought was so cute. She'd even tell me her deepest secret, with her little hands cupped around her mouth, "I'm getting a horse. I'm saving my money all the time. Every week I get a dollar, so when I'm big as you, I can buy my own horse." And I kind of wanted to give her all my money right then & there, just so she could get closer to her dream.

So I think it's kind of amazing how we can know exactly what we want when we're younger, and then, when we get older, we're all of a sudden wondering about all these choices we have. Of course, all the choices we have now are more life-changing than they were before. But, sometimes I think that we don't know what we want, because we're not sure if we can get it. Whereas, when we're little, nothing seems to have boundaries to what we can accoplish when we're older. But if you could be anyone you wanted, who would it be? If you could do anything you wanted, what would that be?

Because you can be who you want to be, you can follow what you want to do. And even if you can't, it's worth a try, because there's only one life that we're given. As Les Brown's famous quote says, "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."

(Please comment if you'd like!)


The Other Side

My first week of college this semester is now finished! And I have so many great new friends to show for it :) The first week is always the hardest, I think. Just getting used to the new schedule, the new places, and the people can be hard.

So with my Spanish and Communication classes, I was thinking about the immigrants who come to live here and don't know how to speak English well or even at all. I've seen them work as cashiers, build buildings, etc. And I've noticed how quickly customers can lose their temper at people who don't speak English well. How English-speaking people sometimes get frustrated when asked to repeat - how they don't like it when they can't understand what's being said - or even how they dislike when immigrants talk to each other in their native language, and therefore can't be understood by English speakers.

And I know, it can be easy to ask why they here if they don't want to be? If they can't speak English? So often it can be hard for us to look past what we think, and try to see what the other point of view is. For example, most of our relatives are actually immigrants, even if we have to look way back in time. And if we ever went to another country we'd expect to be treated with respect, and no less, right?

So close your eyes for a second and imagine: you need to go to a foreign country and find work. Your parents are sharing those worried looks; your little brothers and sisters are starving. And so, despite the challenge of going to a totally new culture, a new place with a different language, you go because you need to - because it's the right thing to do. It can't be that bad, can it?

Then you arrive, and discover how hard it can really can be - to find a job with no English skills and to find a place to live without being cheated. Then, not only is it a huge change, but people treat you like you're beneath them, like your culture doesn't matter. People don't care how hard you're trying - it isn't good enough. And you want to go home where you're appreciated, you want to give up, but then you remember your family. You love them, and you're going to take care of them & send money to them no matter what it takes.

So it does make a difference how you look at it. Everyone is created equal, and always should recieve the respect they deserve. Just because someone is different doesn't mean they're stupid - it never means that. In fact, many are completely courageous to do what they've done. So no matter where someone comes from, what they believe, what they look like, each human is human, and deserves to be treated like one. In fact, trying to see someone else's point of view, makes us, in a way, more human.

So try closing your eyes and imagine the other side of the people in you own life, even if for just a second.

(Would love to hear your comments!)

The Windmill

Okay, so today I have a poem for you to read & critque down below. I love poems, because they can illustrate strong feelings with just a few words. They can totally distract our thoughts & minds if we let them - even if for just a second. There can also be that maze of puzzles and emotions hidden between the lines, that we'd never know about if the authors didn't tell us.

This poem I've written is about a person who wants to hate, who battles with hate, but he instead he loves. He choses to love, despite any consequences. Let me know what you think of my poetry skills, if you'd like!

The Windmill

I feel to kill
But it’s holding me back
That slow beating of the windmill
It makes me feel like an empty sack
It’s playing its part
This human heart

I want to scream
I want to yell
I’d rather have another dream
I beg and plead
But it’s a curse
That will take me ever near the hearse
It’s what it is - a tasteless tart
Oh, take the burden
Of this human heart

I can’t explain it
I want to hit
Yet something stays my hand
Oh, isn’t it so grand?
But yet please spare me the art
Of this dreadful human heart

There’s a cause to all my crying
There’s nothing left more to give
It’s the reason that I’m dying
Yet the source that lets me live
It’s an unfailing chart
This sorry human heart

Is it a fate?
Or destiny to doom?
Some might say fortune
It’ll take me away soon
In a uncovered cart
For it’s not to hide
This persistent human heart

It’s why I’m alive
It’s why I’m dead
A bees’ hive
In my head

I yearn to hate
But instead I love
It’s tearing me apart
This fatal human heart


Dare to Dare

I heard once from a writer that sometimes you can find more truth in a story, than when you read about a real life experience. Maybe that's because when we write about ourselves, and even talk about ourselves, we don't always say everything. I mean, we can write & talk about what happened, what people said & did - even about some thoughts going through our heads. But you have to be daring to lay out the deepest thoughts of your heart, where someone could see them. And I think it's mainly because we're sometimes afraid to let people know who we really are (& sometimes we might not know ourselves), and what we think. Revealing deep thoughts is a little like love - giving away your heart, and trusting the people who hold it, not to break it. Or maybe it's just me.

So anyways, I don't think anyone should be afraid of who they are - because who we are is beautiful, no matter what anyone thinks & says. And it doesn't matter if people judge, because no one is just like anyone else, because of the fact that no one has had the same trials, thoughts, or experiences as someone else. If we pretend to be someone we're not, how can we expect people to love us for who we truly are?

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