A Child’s Innocence


I could do nothing but sigh. The painful sensation in my head was increasing by the minute. I knew what I needed. Peace. But only screaming children filled my vision. There were tears on the right. Spilled juice on the left. A hugging student coiled around my frame on the front and of course lastly my extra strict director right behind. I could almost feel her breathing down my neck. Was it possible to have this much rotten luck…

All I could think was that since my new job as a teacher’s assistant, I had truly realized how clumsy and mistake-prone I was. At previous jobs, I had only experienced and heard of how praiseworthy my potential and work was.But here. There was nothing but chaos.

But as I look at these children, I become confused. They were not the problem. I was. I had an unconditional love for them. Any child I see running down the street and a giddy smile appears on my face in response. Yet when I see them lie, hurt me, and just smile the next second I just don’t understand. I was bullied at their age and I’ve seen firsthand the cruelty of naive children.

Facing it again through the eyes of an adult, I don’t understand. I can feel my limit being reached, yet I still hold them when they cry and smile at them with affection.

Where is the innocence I seem so intent on doting upon?


  • : the state of being not guilty of a crime or other wrong act

  • : lack of experience with the world and with the bad things that happen in life

  • : lack of knowledge about something

Until I realize that it was wrong of me to presume. Innocence is not a badge of honor that gives a child a free pass. They are merely unexposed. In other words, in the adult world from one adult to another…ignorant. Their own state of bliss.


Is it called being superficial or having a low self esteem?



A year ago I felt a lurch in my chest by a comment made by my sister. I was saying something like how my forehead was huge or the how the pores on my nose were big and she replied, “you’ve gotten a lot more superficial.”

I froze. It was the first time she had said something like that. She is usually blunt and can sometimes be rude but superficial were never the words that people would use to describe me.

I just covered up the shock and replied that it’ll get better. It was no secret to her that I had only myself as company for the last few years and spending time alone with nothing keeping you busy made all the small things seem important, like my appearance.

But all she could say was, “I know, but it’s a lot worse.”

I didn’t know what to say after that.

The question that I had possibly become superficial during the process of healing myself made me feel as if I had sinned. It didn’t seem right, unfitting with the huge paralyzing situation I was in. I felt flawed, not on a deep level but rather shallow one.



They Think It’s Okay



I glanced at the girl before me. I didn’t know this chick well enough. We had gotten as comfortable as you can get with someone you only met twice in your life. However, it was like a routine.

“Have you ever dated anyone before?”

“No,” I replied. Laughing at her question. Again, I thought. I was in full blush mode, but I wasn’t feeling shy at all.

“I’m a virgin too if that’s your second question,” I said nonchalantly. There was no shame felt anymore from that statement. Eventually,you realize there was no point in feeling embarrassed. It’s a fact. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

“Oh, wow! That’s so adorable!”

I laughed along with her but out of absurdity. No, this situation was not okay. How I felt that moment was not at all alright in any way.


Greedy for Love


A classic motivational speaker will say to begin with self-love. In fact, even I would say right now is not the time for me to seek love outwards but rather inwards. However it’s a never ending battle in reminding myself everyday that I come first, while I’m alone now or even during any future love.

I won’t lie that compared to before, it’s often a lot easier than I would like. It’s become almost instinctual to put myself first. I’m more selfish in my materialistic wants. I feel less guilty in feeling normal human desires. And I’m more willing to stray my path as wanting to be an eternal angel.

In my imaginations I may be forever kind and temperless but reality has forced me to accept that I’m now tougher and less willing to put up with shit. Ironically, now my battle is to remind myself to be kind, to smile, and to forgive once in awhile.

I have learned to accept being flawed. However, learning to feel undesirable is a completely different matter.

I Will Not Abandon You



I wish I could say the person typing this is very much changed. But despite the fact I always envy the ones that concoct something for the new years, the one who usually feels nothing utterly different when the clock strikes 12 thinks it’s utter bullshit. Perhaps because I’m never a part of it.

Don’t get me wrong. I try to be optimistic but I’ve learned to worry and fret over bettering myself as a day a day thing. Not a year to year event.

My attempt at forcing myself back to here, one of my homes, was not because of a failed attempt at a new year resolution. But rather an affirmation. As well as a reminder to myself.

Despite the fact that I’m doing well (except of course having the flu), working at my new job and not dreading the next day, I’ve been losing my support. Not quite literally, but very physically. My mother on Monday is leaving for a month to visit my grandparents who aren’t well, halfway across the world. She’s terrified since she still feels guilty because the last time she left, I vanished for 2 years. She and I both know it’s not her fault. However, she has been my rock. And she does know that.

And just like last time, when I was 16 I could not say no when she asked if I were alright if she went. Even though I kept reassuring myself that I was different and my dad was different, I was surprised that just like last time I didn’t hesitate. Where does my confidence even come from…

Although, that wasn’t the point. It was alright, I had a home counselor now and therapist I met weekly. I had my job to keep me busy so I thought that just like I was different, I also had a support system that had come into existence since last time.

I didn’t wish to believe I felt the instability of them the last few months. For my job, I was unable to give time to my therapist to meet. Soon, it would become one week, then two weeks till I would meet her. Maybe more. Before the christmas break, my case manager dropped contact with me and it started to also become weeks since I heard from her. My sister was once again absorbed with her new relationship and even when she came to visit it was hard to get her attention. Now that she’s gone back to her college with her boyfriend, I know it’s not fair when she’s so emotionally involved with him. All her energy would be gone by the time she would get to me. So I knew not to have any expectations with her.

Even though I knew my fear was irrational. In fact, they were still there for me. Exactly, where they usually are. I have no excuses. I have to depend on myself. I may have been a vulnerable 16 year old girl who had unresolved issues then, but I’m an 18 year old woman who has been fighting everyday, struggling to get better for the past few years. I have not only aged by number but grown as a person.

But depending versus knowing someone’s there for you are very different things. No matter how much I comfort myself, I still fill this pit at the bottom of my stomach. I remember that a month can be a very long time.


When All You Know is Heaven


I was watching another one of countless plots unfold. I was surprised the first thing I judged was not ungrateful but rather, I understand her.

A girl was living in the mountains, in a small village, with only her grandmother. In other words, the movie depicted her life and home a mortal paradise. Far away from chaos and tragic that existed surrounding them. Then again, it did not mean it was a complete paradise for her. She was happy yes but there were those petty bullies and strict words from her grandmother, who rarely showed her how much she truly loved her. But it soon shows, when she leaves the protection of the village to venture out for her own life, she becomes enveloped in struggles. Eventually her definition of heaven when others later ask, is the old home she used to live in.

Often we are naive to say, all we want is to be happy. Yet, the first mistake I see is when the people that may possibly be the happiest…seek out what soons to be the very problems that destroy them. It is a little dramatic for my taste but the concept stood true. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so quick to understand before, but I can’t help but quickly agree now after going through my set of challenges. I would not be so appreciative and truly happy, if I were happy forever.

It’s sad to think people that have only known happiness and are for their whole life, will never truly understand happiness. Which is why everyone goes through hardships, tragedy, and pain. Because it only makes the aftertaste that much sweeter.

You will be happy. You are happy. But you can also be sad. And you will be sad. But as both are necessary and important, the irony is you need both to have a good life that you value.

At first instead of value I was going to write “don’t regret” but who are we kidding, at one point everyone regrets.


Mornings Awake

beautiful-girl-love-photography-favim-com-601760I feel content. And for it, I rack my brain harder in the search of inspiration. I do not know what to write. This might be another one of the countless attempts I’ve made this morning where I begin with a few words, delete, type again, and go back to thinking harder.

All I can think of, is how grateful I am. I have this tiny ritual. It’s random and quite sporadic. Whenever I feel a little extra anything…thankful, sentimental, or even giddy, I would clasp my hands together, close my eyes, and speak. To this day I’m still not sure to whom I speak the words to. But the habit of just putting those words out there, out of my control into the world surprisingly makes me feel rather more powerful. It’s as if I can physically feel my heart expanding. That is the only high I need. For now at least… 😉

Changed Days


Gaining perspective somehow became the light but as well as the bane of my existence. It’s a burden yet an enlightening.

I can no longer imagine my life, or even me before the pain, the tears, and the words on here. However, I don’t discount the importance of the growth, the smiles, and strong bonds that developed as well.

My days once again have become nights, and my nights have become days again. There was fear as I once again seeked comfort on my own quirky, nocturnal schedule. But I was soon able to console myself. The me now, was different. And the nights being awake were definitely different from before.

I was no longer consumed with “nothing” as I used to scroll through random pages with my eyes forced open as if a zombie. My emotions that were so shallow for the lack of not wanting to feel, I could definitely feel an almost content or even happy feeling now lingering in my subconscious. It could be me just feeling okay but rather I think it’s from the confidence. The confidence in the emotion of feeling alright. Now if I could only stop making my bed so often. Sleep can only keep me busy for so long.

A Prison Of Our Own Making

It’s been three weeks since I took a break from my blog. I guess it was my retaliation against life for once again taking a break on me without my will. Because just as the last time, I was stumped. You would’ve thought I would have learned by now.

The uncertainty of what the future held for me swallowed me whole again. Even though I knew what I had to do, for some reason I was choosing not to do it. But then I realized, no I was doing it. However I was being sentenced into the waiting period. The wait till the world responded back, “come join us again.”


During that wait I came across something. It was bound to happen with the immense amount of shows I’ve been binging on.

“I’m in a prison made by me, individualized with what I chose to imprison myself with. No one put me there and no one will take me out of there. Only by my own will can I get out.”

It got me thinking about how I’ve rarely ever expressed happiness in writing. For a person who represents to the outside world as a happy symbol, I had forgotten to how much sorrow and pain I symbolized here. I was thinking of how when I would be 99 years old one day (fingers crossed) I would read my writing and think back to how I was such a sad child. I would reminisce my horrible life. Although in reality, it was not. I have had days where I’ve been happy. I just unfortunately haven’t shared it on here.

To me happiness is something so physical and mentally felt in the moment. It’s the smiles, the affection, the touch, and senses that are alive that second.

But the irony is I do still gain comfort here. A content feeling that is  a different version of inexplicable happiness. Not the usual high of being on cloud nine, but more like ah now I think I can truly rest now. It’s the calm after the adrenaline rush.

And I forgot how much I was torturing myself as I convinced myself away from here. Because a month ago, the little bouts of sadness among the happiness held importance. The endless feelings of sadness and depression over a length of time just became a sameness. Insignificant. What I felt now didn’t seem to hold any importance.

The original vigor before when I thought I had the right to be angry and frustrated was gone. I felt as if I lost the right to just throw in the towel and say

“I’m done trying. If you want me in your life, let me know. Bye.”

During this wait, I’ve been terrified. I have singularly blamed and hated the uncertainty to the whole situation. I would soon miss and start to realize the importance of a routine. Before, waking up at 7 am and thinking ugh I have to go to work would often make me frustrated and sad because I felt as if I had no choice. However for 2 years while I was bedridden…for the first time I experienced waking up to nothing. Completely and utterly nothing. I wondered, why do I even need to wake up? Can I just not wake up at all?

I miss routine, but I need to learn how to embrace uncertainty as well. To learn the balance of being grateful for both, a routine to wake up to yet to not give a crap because there might not even be a tomorrow.

Nothing makes sense here.

In the end though it all comes down to a simple feeling. I just feel so left out of my own freaking life.