Sequel to "For Future Reference"

The other draft of For Future Reference is eternally saving, so I can only guess what I wrote there.

Here's the latest edition:

Victim mentality - always feels targeted, threatened, and victimized. Feels it's impossible to ever win or be successful, so tends to cease trying when the odds are not in favor.  Perpetually loses fencing matches despite having more experience and being in better shape (and older than) her opponents.
Easily discouraged and quick to become upset.
Mother often asks why she so quickly turns to the negative. She does not know why.

Perfectionist - Sees the world as imperfect despite having the potential to be near perfect, and often becomes frustrated when a worldly system or construct is left clearly corrupt and an effective solution is easily seen. Intolerant of many mistakes people make around her, difficult to stay at peace.
Strongly dislikes hypocrites, believes in absolutism. If it's not exactly what she wants, she would rather not have anything.  Hard to please.

Often "shuts down" when under stress or in a tense or threatening situation. This is usually accompanied by a small bout of "depression"and impulsive behavior.  Unable to be reasoned with.

Tone-Sensitive - Very attune to tone of voice and diction.  Easy set off by negative or condescending tones.

Senpaiiii :o

Some days, I just really want Senpai to notice me..
Today is one of those days :T

The Progress of Pilgrims

I'm in a strange, new land full of strange, new people. The old world is far away, but I still have my memories.
Kicked a habit, made it two. Now, I'm starting a new one. Why?

I never seen to be able to live without some sort of habit, so while expelling energy to kick habits 3 and 4, might as well put some in a more positive direction.
Now, I'm making it my nightly ritual to brush my teeth before bed.

Hoping to tack on washing my face, and eventually, starting/ending my day with a quick bath. A jog after school couldn't hurt too much.
Now, all I need is the right frame of mind.

Hasta la huevo~
(Until the egg, Ikik. Writing essays in Spanish.. Da struggle ish real, brohhhz >.>)

Close the Door and Open Your Heart

"Sometimes I like to close my eyes.. To the world that buzzes around me. To the temptations and distractions, to the things I know will harm me."

I'm only writing this today by the good grace of God.  Life is not a cake walk, but I've made it seventeen years, and I plan to try for seventeen more.

Each day brings new temptations, new landmines and pitfalls, but I hope to be able to tune out the distractions.. Close my eyes, focus my ears and really listen to the whispers. Maybe now, I'll be able to hear Him more clearly.

Like Mr. Mitchell said, "Get up and move around the room, get down on your knees in a quiet corner, away from anyone and anything that is holding you back. Whatever you need to do."*

*Paraphrased from IO Night of Worship Nov 2015

Just try it. You might be pleasantly surprised at what you'll hear :)

The Face of Jesus

Tonight was IO's Night of Worship, and because of my "dry communion" with Christ, I'd like to take a few minutes and reflect on a positive realization.

When I was praying, I made a side comment to myself about how I couldn't wait to see His face, but how blind I have been! I see His face every day.

I see His soft, loving eyes in the face of the man at the Whole Foods fish counter.

I see His radiant smile in the employees at Kroger, and His wisdom flow from the mouth of a guy at Game Stop.

Everywhere I turn, I see His face, and I am glad :)

This is Halloween~

It's Friday! Only a day from the most self-expressive holiday of the year(and also my Dad's birthday and they day he lands in America).

The only drawback: I don't really have a costume this year. Ehh, I mean, I have the army green riding pants and a blousy cream shirt, but I'm missing all the details. Little things, like leather gloves, a belt, and a handy pair of brass goggles.

So, in accordance to my dilemma, I came to school in my Science Olympiad T-shirt, jeans, and my Romania top hat for a festive touch.

Oh yeah, and we just finished River Ridge's first ever Weird Science day! As an Olympiad(or Olympian?), I got to help out with the different activity rooms in exchange for a modified schedule: 1 lunch period(negotiable) and one science period to have fun. The potluck fell through due to the schedule, but plenty of people still got to enjoy the fruits of my Witching hour labors~

One of which was a tripple thief: some sophomore(junior?) posing Joker.

So Irene was talking to this guy, right? Seemed fine enough. I was munching some goldfish a friend from SciOly gave me when he whirled around once, twice, three times and stole a mouthful of goldfish from my baggie! x'D I just couldn't even, dude. Stood there for a minute like, wtheck just happened!?!
He did make a fabulous Joker.. Face shape and all. He was too real. Ehh, he stopped by a bit later around the class change, and I decided to offer him a cookie. Might as well haha. Anyone who has the audacity to steal goldfish from out of my hand deserves some token of recognition.

It was too much dude. I just don't even..

Yeah. Well anyway, Katie managed to scare me out of my wits a couple times in Sawicki's creepy crawly exhibit. Ooh! And I held a millipede!! It was so cool. And scary, but mostly cool. Same goes for the hissing cockroaches. They're really feisty haha.

While we're here, I might as well talk about Halloween day.
My costume was kind of bleh, just a basic blousy half sleeve with two layers of skirts and lacy socks for my boots, but I'll get there someday.. Maybe.

Anyway, after Trunk or Treat, I helped my mom size up the next batch of witch finger cookies (Giada's recipe from Food Network), and headed to Macey's house for the party. Let me just say I love homeschool kids. They're the best.. "Let's make a circle guys! Yeah~"

So we played Kumcha, a Korean tribal dance game, out in the cul de sac at dusk. No kids came by the house after that. I wonder why.. Lol

I really wish people would be able to get over themselves sometimes, though. I at least made an effort to get to know the other 6. It's just hard when you ask them a question, genuinely interested in them, and they don't even attempt to ask you back.
I know I'm not the coolest, richest, most dynamic person in the group, but at least I'm courteous. Maybe someday they'll let me in. :/

Bang Bang You're Dead

Time for another disorganized brain -blurb.

Just got back from seeing Bang Bang You're Dead for the second time at my school.

I'm always interested in the psychological - there are so many people that need help. That's the whole reason for the play: to evoke thoughts people tend to shy away from and help people become more aware of the bullying and suicide statistics and their domino like effects.

As I said before, these topics are interesting to me. I'm a very spiritual person. I thoroughly enjoy soul searching and thought sifting. My own mind is an endless desert, flourishing against the better judgement of a first glance. But my mom? I have no idea. I don't think I'll ever know since she's so unyieldingly averse to anything darker than sunset.  She shuts off like a clam, and like ten minutes ago, usually ends the conversation walking out of the  room saying how much I enjoy the darkness, how I can't get enough of it. Then, there's the God Card.

"I know it's not nice, but it's a necessary thing to hear."

"Jesus is necessary to me."

How can I argue with that? I can't. I can't say anything.

Then, my thoughts quickly spiral, and I end up lying in a pit like heck.

"If I'm so dark and hopeless, why should I even try? It's obvious I can't change myself. It'd be a sin to put that on my kids, so I can't have those or a husband either. There's no point. I have no use for life, and, neither it for me. No hope, no future. Just the bleak and melancholy way I was raised. This is why I can't have kids. I have my father's eyes and so my father's tongue. I have my mother's wrath, bitterness. What use am I? I'm nothing, no one. Few consider me a friend. Rooms are too full of strange, empty faces. My hand knows no stroke of a brush anymore. All I loved and passioned for had been put down quietly some years before. In the name of "education," so I can follow in the footsteps of the Boswells before me. They're all a little off. Work too hard. I'm not like them. I want to be free, but the key has been tossed. Now, my childhood is dead and I'm forced to wear the corpse as a blanket on the streets. Paper thin skin won't break the chill.

Then come the bitter tears, and then, the mourning. Mourning for myself, my misfortune. My failures and dreams, crunched under the cruel and screeching tires of life.

I don't know what to do.

Am I depressed? I don't know. They're too busy with my brother to evaluate me.  I suppose that's another I'll never find out, though I'm fairly certain I'm not a 'norm.'