Goals.

I’ve come to notice that it’s easy to start something, but really freaking hard to end it. The prime example here, I think would be war. It’s really, really easy to start a war, but ending it seems to take a lot of compromise. Mostly wars end by either completely massacring the losing side or both sides suffer so much casualty that they eventually decide to call a truce. A much lighter example would be this challenge I made. I started this thing thinking you know, since I’d be at home doing nothing anyway, I’d do this, to get my creative juices flowing and the gears in my brain turning and basically keeping myself forming coherent thoughts in preparation for the um, exams or whatever. And I made myself do it. It was easy at first, after all, when you finally decide to do something, you have this little spark of excitement and plunge right into it. I wrote two, even on the first day because I was coming up with so many things and I was talking with an old friend who was my muse for a short while and consequently fueled my ideas even more. So the first day, I had many things to write about and my poor fingers could barely keep up with my brain from trying to write so much at once, Then the days dragged on. The second (or third, since I already did two) was also alright, since I still had the ideas and inspiration to do it. And the days started dragging on. I didn’t want to do it anymore. My motivation levels dropped to almost zero. I got lazy. And writing suddenly seemed like a chore, you know? Still, I challenged myself, so I made myself finish it. I made myself write, however little it was (not really. I had a word limit, I made myself write at least 400 words or so? Except yesterday’s because I was so tired.) 

Anyway, I’ve learned something for this. It’s beyond easy to think of things to say and try to come up with ideas and planning it out in your head, however impressive it may be. But what will make it all so special will be the fact that you took the time, the effort, the will to go through with whatever’s in your head and well, bringing that imagination to life. The important thing is to remember the reason you set up your goals and have the motivation, the will to march on through your challenge or whaever it is you set yourself with. Of course, an important thing to remember is to set realistic goals. Instead of just saying ‘I will write everyday’, try to make it doable. I mean, write? Write what? A word? A sentence? That’s still writing, you know. I made myself write an essay, everyday for 10 days. And the duration is important. Set short, realistic goals that you can do and complete in time. Then you can reward yourself, like I will, with my chocolate bar tomorrow. Don’t set vague goals, and ‘figure it out’ later. That’s all going to stay in your head. Plan it, write it down, set it down before you do anything. Then you can make yourself go through it and zealously finish your goals/ 

I mean, I hated myself for putting myself through this, but I’m glad. Look at me now. Still as lazy as ever, but hey, I did this challenge. I mean, I still haven’t completed my homework, I haven’t written my personal statement yet, but I think I have an idea, maybe to start it. Soon. Probably. 

Actions speak louder than words.

 

Okay. 

I totally nailed this, so I think I deserve a break.

Love,

Charley.

Who deserves a chocolate bar. 

 

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JUMPSTREET

JumpStreet was fun. Jumping a lot was fun.

However, there was a thing about jumping I couldn’t help thinking about.

For one thing, I was really happy to jump along the trampolines. I had fun. Lots of it. I even dived into the foam pit, which was awkward yet strangely satisfying. I only did it once, though, so I can’t say I’ve had better. I felt like a kid again, which is totally great, because I loved being a kid. I love feeling like a kid. I love running around and skipping and jumping and whining and lying around laughing on the floor because I’m out of breath and I just can’t sit up and laugh politely. I love this feeling: happiness. Jumping around is like the simplest form of joy a person can have.

For the other thing, I was not happy about not doing a flip today. I was also not happy making myself play dodge ball. It was alright, I did have fun with it, but there was this lingering thing that I would not enjoy myself. I wasn’t really enjoying myself, I felt inadequate. Lacking something. I felt awkward and out of it. Kids were pros, and there I was, this awkward teenage blob. I’ve never really thought about it, but I have. I think about it a lot.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I feel like I have grown, but I feel like I haven’t grown at all. I am a freaking paradox. I’m here, but I’m there. I’m brave, I’m scared. I’m tall, I’m short. (okay not really) I’m moving forward, I’m going backwards.

What am I?

A conundrum. I am yin and yang. I have good and bad. I have light and darkness. I have fear and courage. And I’m just trying to move on just the way I am.

Love,

Charley.

PS. Sorry it’s sort of short. I’m just really tired and I can’t string my thoughts together properly.

Words

I like writing. I like stringing several words along to make a sentence in which a person can read and understand what message I want to get across. It never ceases to amaze me how anyone can use words to make poetry, to tell a story, to sing a song, to give a speech, or to say nothing at all.

I like reading. I like looking at the words and knowing what the words mean and what the context is. I like how anyone can write a book. And I just love it when some people can make those words come to life, and leave such a lasting impression that you have to stop for a moment just to sit in awe of what you’ve read and it sends your head reeling in the fact that they’re just words and they’ve got you crying in laughter, shaking as you hold back your tears, screaming in anger, and just breathless with this revelation that you’re feeling all the feels, so much so that it feels as if you are the main character, the hero, the villain, the fighter, the lover.

It’s strange how much emotion you can feel from reading a book. And stranger still, I enjoy putting myself in this sweet torture. It’s like my kind of high. I’ll admit unabashedly: I have cried many a time over a book. I have laughed, I have screamed, I have cried. I have loved, and loathed. I have taken up arms and fought for a cause, and without cause.

There are many things I love about words, but perhaps most of all is how we use it. Literature, philosophy. We use words as a form of art.

And we are all artists striving to create that one masterpiece.

 

Love,

Charley.

Homosapiens

Oblivion is inevitable. Eventually, we will all die. There was a time before humans; there will be a time after (The Fault in our Stars quote).

And sometimes, I wonder. I wonder about life. What is the purpose of being here? I mean, what is the general purpose of human beings anyway? What is the purpose of my birth? What is my purpose? 

Everything that is alive started from a single cell. A microorganism. Evolution. Mutation. And we’ve come very far. It’s hard to believe that we as humans came from a single cell, but we did. What I don’t understand though, is how we came to have this sense of superiority over everything else. When did we see ourselves as well, better than other beings? 

Everything has its own purpose, its part to play in the world, to balance the ecosystem. Maybe long ago we were part of that delicate food web of life, but it’s gone now. We’ve become the planet’s biggest parasite. We talk of global warming, invasive species, pollution, and mass extinction among other things, but why is it that most of the world’s humans are still either blissfully ignorant or painfully unaware that we are still destroying much of the world, and much of ourselves as well. Wars are still going on. we are destroyers. So when did we see ourselves as gods?

We class ourselves as homosapiens, as if we are a separate being from the rest of the planet’s creatures. I mean, we are animals, for gods’ sakes. We share an ancestor with the great apes, the primates and many others. We came from mammalians. We are mammals. So are dogs and cats and cows and horses and sheep and pigs and tigers and wolves and bears and elephants and gorillas and chimpanzees and squirrels and otters and dolphins and whales and platypuses and kangaroos and pangolins and anteaters and sloths and macaques and gibbons and rabbits and mice and zebras and giraffes and lions and millions of others. We have plenty more undiscovered, still. And yet, we still destroy.

 And why do we have a sense of self-awareness? What purpose does this self-awareness do? Because there are many times when I feel that we are better off not having this sense of self-awareness, that we should just live as ‘mindless’ animals and just play our part in this web of life.

Only we have discovered, proved and still learning about the minds of animals. they are not mindless. Yes, they act upon instinct but they also have emotion. They love, they care, they think, they learn. They are beings, and they all have a right to live, just as much as we do. We are fools to think that we are better than them. Yes they do not think the way we do, but that does not mean that they do not think at all. They think in different ways; in better ways, to suit their needs and survival. They live as one with Mother Nature.

We seem to have lost that.

We should find our way back to live as part of the planet before we destroy it.

 

Love,

 Charley.

Reflection

 I have (quite) recently had the pleasure of tutoring a few students taking SPM which I have also only recently finished. I know it’s the middle of the year and it is completely inappropriate to think about this right now. However, this is my blog-thing, and I don’t care about what I’m posting here, as long as I am posting something for-until I finish my challenge thing. 

Side note: I know I missed a day, but I did two on the first day so it makes up for it. My blog-thing, my rules. I don’t care. 

I know what I have.

I have many things which I love among my many other things which I am sort of neutral towards. I have a great family, which I also love. I mean, we’re (sure as heck) not perfect, but still good, yeah, still good (Lilo and Stitch quote-thing). I have many friends, whom I love very much (hopefully they love me as well). I have also broken heart, which I am not proud of, but again, this is my blog-thing, and you can’t stop me from writing whatever the heck I want. Also, I will not talk about that. I have fresh water, a pantry full of food, clean clothes, electricity that runs through the house so I can use a computer, the TV, lights, fans and air conditioning. I have many books that I can read. I have a baby grand piano and a ukulele to play music with. I have photos commemorating my childhood and travels with my family. I have basic necessities for the thing that happens once a month because of my gender. I have many things, and I am thankful for them. I am very grateful for not having some kind of terminal disease up to this point in my life, for having all of these things, for having great family and wonderful friends, and for being healthy. For having all of this, I am grateful. 

What I don’t know is who or what I am. 

I guess I kind of know what I am. I am a girl. I am turning 18. I am Chinese. I am a citizen of a country of South East Asia. I am a human being, a homosapien

The matter of who I am, though, is much less certain. I don’t know who I am, or will be. Will I be a veterinarian? A psychologist? A journalist? A creative writer? A housewife? An independent traveller? I do not know. 

I do not know many things, but I am hopeful. I’m hopeful that I can and will discover who and what I really am, or will be. And things look strange and confusing now, but hopefully, I will go through this. And well, remain hopeful, I guess. I’m not sure. 

 

Love, 

Charley. 

 

Old dreams. New dreams.

I used to dream of the medieval times. Princesses and knights and noblemen and kingdoms, witches and dragons and monsters and gypsies and ghosts and swords and fighting and wars and ships. I would be a princess of some kingdom and there would be this knight and there would be a lot fighting and knighthood and there would be this dragon and I would be the dragon’s friend and whatever. It was childish, amateurish and also very fun. I loved it.

And then my dreams were shattered. I learned about the medieval times or the Middle Ages from Horrible Histories (for kids who hate history!). Wars. Plagues. Gross dirty streets. A lot of drunk people. Thieves. Corruption. Throne after throne after throne and mad kings and revolts and uprisings. Not fun. And the worst part was there were no dragons. Lots of witch burnings. No. Dragons. 

Now, I have mainly two central thoughts on the Middle Ages. The first, I don’t want to be the princess who gets locked up in the castle guarded by the dragon. I want to be the dragon. I want to rain fire in the villages and plunder their gold and hoard all their books and fear nothing. Being human, well, it has its moments, but it is vastly inferior to being a dragon. I want to be sixteen feet tall and breathe fire and fly and destroy anything and everything in my path whenever I please and do whatever I want to do. I want to be a dragon. 

The second, being a woman in the Middle Ages was a horrible, horrible disadvantage. Women were raped, killed, tortured, burned as witches. You would never be treated as an equal. Heck, we’re still working on that ‘equalism-feminism’ thing. But through all that, I’m still proud to be a woman. We still have  empresses and queens and warriors and scholars and scientists and mathematicians. And I’m a fool if I can only see the bad things in everything. And I will fight for myself, my gender, my individuality and journey to self-discovery.

So, take up your arms, brothers and sisters. The fight is not over. The fight will never end. We shall fight to the last breath.

BE THE DRAGON THAT YOU ARE.

Love,

Charley.

Paradoxes.

We are all full of paradoxes. We are Yin and Yang. Good and bad. And society’s idea of conforming to the norm doesn’t make it any better. You see, the most important thing about this is to know that you are both good and bad and to accept it. We are both evil and justice. Social media portraying the fight about the hero and the villain present this idea that you are always the hero and the villain is something else or more importantly, someone else. That somehow you’re this average Joe (or Jane because female empowerment is important: feminism is important.) that finds the heroism or this gallantry hidden deep inside you or whatever and that you have to take up the mantle of being a hero to fight the villain. That’s all bullshit. There’s this saying that has significant value to my point: you either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. The knights of medieval times are portrayed as brave and noble and fearless when in reality they’re a bunch of drunken merchants. The world is not in black and white. It’s a million shades of gray (this is not a 50 shades reference do not think about it) and nothing is absolute because everything changes constantly. There is no absolute right or wrong. There are always situations and circumstances and backstories. We all need to imagine the world complexly (John Green quote heh) and remind ourselves: we ARE both good and bad. We just need to balance out the good and bad. There is such a thing as too much.

You make that choice of being whoever you want to be. You can be the hero or the villain. You can be both, or neither. You can do whatever the heck you want. You can dismiss the consequences or dwell too long on them. You can be slow and steady or go full speed ahead. You are your own god.

Are you one drop of water in the ocean, or are you the ocean in one drop of water? Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it hurts. Yes, you will want to drop dead and give up everything. But if you get through this, you will get better. Things will get better. and maybe, you’ll find your happiness.

 

Man I’m on fire tonight.

Love,

C the PM