dana(:

I don’t understand how the universe works in terms of truths and lies.

If you lie well enough, you can get away with almost anything, with little or no scratches. 

Yet when I decide that lying all the time is unhealthy for my conscience and a dishonor to my family, the truth is a much more difficult obstacle to deal with than a lie.

A lie can get you through a whole evening.

A truth can hardly get you out the door.

I don’t understand.

If my conscience is compelled to tell the truth, but absolutely nothing good ever comes out of it.

Well.

My conscience is staring to be more compelled to spin lies.

It’s just that much easier.

And it makes me all the more confused. 

Especially right before they eat.

I don’t know what this feeling is. But it’s nice. And it’s good. But I can’t even explain what it’s like in my stomach. But it’s there. 

And it’s been like this even before I became more religious. 

Hmm.

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I’m quite easily swayed by the people that I interact with.

Like one time I went on a JennaMarbles marathon and suddenly I started talking like her and developing the same attitude as her. 

So putting that into perspective, I have this sudden impulse to not care about what people think and not judge what other people do either. And to be extremely blunt and not be so weirded out by anything o___o 

For the time being, I have zero insecurities. And I just say stuff. And I enjoy tooting my own horn (ie: complimenting myself (“well someones’ gotta do it!”) which may or may not be a bad thing. But it gets a good laugh from the people).

Eh. Not sure how to feel about this. On one hand, it’s quite liberating and it’s very undemanding and carpe diem-esque. 

On the other hand, I’ve been having nightmares for the past two days :| 

I think I’m going to go with not caring. heh. 

Just give me a moment in your life to watch you in the midst of your passion.

To feel that sense of ambition and fervor as you do the things you love most. 

I want to absorb the epitome of your being as you submerge yourself in what you are doing. 

And then I will be happy, for I will know who you truly are. 

It’s a long list.

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Makeup is for special occasions. 

Because when you put makeup on yourself, you’re supposed to be “enhancing your beauty”, per say.

If you don’t wear makeup on a regular basis, people get used to seeing you like that (It’s like when someone gets a new haircut and you kind of miss the way it used to be, but in time you just get used to it and it doesn’t bother you anymore). So then you without makeup is the normal you. Which it should be.

Thus, when you do put on makeup, not only will you be physically pretty because you took the time to do so, but the special occasion of it will make it EXTRA pretty because people aren’t used to seeing you like that. 

And now you can just be yourself (: 

How can so much kawaiidesu be enclosed in one person. 

Such a burden to bear. 

Upon writing my letter to the Bishop in order to get confirmed yesterday, I had the task of finding a Saint name for myself. With all due respect, Mary Magdalene, you are a trooper for turning from a woman of sin into a woman of God. But I’m not sure the life of a past prostitute quite suits me. 

And so I spent a good hour or so looking up and researching Saint names. And the funny thing is that the one that I was going to settle with was the very last one on my list. And this is it: 

St. Teresa of Avila. A woman of God. A woman of others. A woman of herself. She was beautiful, well liked, outgoing, strong, courageous, and affectionate. She was a woman that stood on her own two feet, and looked to only God and herself to guide her way in life. She was a mystery: a woman of paradoxes just like me. And while she always devoted her time looking out for others, she had always struggled with accepting herself. She was contemplative: she spent time thinking, seeking to understand. She sought to lead, aid, reform, pray, and influence. She was a leader, then given the title “Doctor of the Church”. She inspired and touched others with her endless compassion and understanding. And through her relationship with God, she was able to discover and define herself, and then help others get back on their own feet as well.

This has always been the woman I’ve aspired to be. Every aspect of her is one that I revere and have always strove for in the past. I want to be a woman of myself. A woman known for her strength through love. Her strength through discipline, compassion, and understanding. And most of all, I strive to be a woman of God.

It takes a lot to take a step back and look at you compared to all of those surrounding you, and then developing a deep appreciation for everything that has been given to you, and to others. It takes a lot to accept the mediocrity of yourself, but then dig through and find out what makes you unique, and putting your talents out there to display to the world who you are. It takes a lot to put your troubles aside, and devote your time to others who are in need. It take a lot to realize that it doesn’t take much effort to love a stranger. 

And when I read about it and though about it before I slept, it was a moment of “Oh, there you are. Where have you been all this time?” There was that click. And when I went to tell my friend which Saint I had chosen, I couldn’t stop smiling. 

This is who I want to be. There is no doubt in my mind that she was made for me. This is my new Saint name.

I’ve been on a path of active self-discovery ever since the year started. Albeit it’s only been 3 months, I’ve learned so much about myself, about the world, and the possibilities of both. 

Love. I’m drawn to it, I thrive off it, and I realized that it’s the only thing I ever want in my life. 

Some people are born to be leaders. Some are born to be trend-setters, changers, innovators, wild spirits. And, well, this is my calling. I am born to love. 

It’s silly to say it now, because there’s so little that I’ve seen out there. But it makes sense to me. At night, I always spend my time thinking about someone. The thought of someone helps me fall asleep. In all my relationships, I’ve stuck it out to the very possible end, and I never gave up on that person. I’ve exploited every benefit of the doubt, I’ve outworn my capacity for forgiveness, I’ve given out so many second chances that I lose myself in the process. I cry in the presence of anger, and I melt in the presence of appreciation and compassion. 

My favorite phrase to write and say is “I love you”. I love children because of their infinite capacity to love and be loved. I forgive, and I forget. I desire to understand and reach out. I take the things people say too personally. I am sincere in what I say and do. I am gullible. I am easily persuaded. I take the relationships that I have very seriously—and most of the time it scares people away. The thought of being a wife, a mother, and having a family excites me so much. I unconditionally love my family. I worship a God that loves unconditionally. Sometimes I cling too much to people. Most of the time, I don’t know when to stop chasing people. 

I always seek to understand, to see the better side, to turn a blind eye, to look for a silver lining. I try really hard for seemingly meaningless things, because I hope that somehow it’ll make a difference. I get jealous easily, but I forgive, I forget, and then I love. Even those who have done harm to me, I think about them, pray for them, hope for them, and rejoice in their accomplishments. I love people at the expense of myself. I let people go because I know that they’ll be happier without me.

Why do you think it hurts so much when people leave me? Why do you think that I give 120% to the significant other I promise to devote myself to? Why do you think that children fascinate me? That an unyielding love fascinates me? That songs of unfaithfulness stir my blood? Why do you think I claim to have a cold heart, but jump so fast at a moment’s compassion? 

Love is courage. Love is optimism. Love is endless faith. Love is strength. Love is ingenuousness. Love is forgiveness. Love is understanding. Love is patience. Love is expression. Love is sacrifice. Love is endless passion. Love is humility. Love is compassion. Love is empathy. Love is bliss. Love is happiness. 

No matter what I say, I don’t think I will ever maintain a purely cold heart. It’s too eager to melt, too eager to express, too eager to share. 

It takes me all my strength to suppress and control my desire for people. It takes all my strength to hold back, play games, be mean, reject, say no, and not give in. It’s not in my nature. 

And again and again, I’ll give out more than people give back. And somehow the empty holes in my heart will be alright with that. And it’s a heavy burden that I’d be more than willing to accept every single day for the rest of my life. 

My joy comes from the happiness of others around me. I revel in all mutual love. And I realize now that I can never change that—nor will I ever want to. 

It makes me weak, but at the same time it makes me incredibly strong. A lover, a dreamer, an optimist, a forgiver, cannot be easily torn down. 

I was born to do this, and I am ready to accept this with everything I could ever possibly give. 

It’s been 4 years since I last saw you. 

And your face showed up on my newsfeed. 

Goodness, you’re so old now. I didn’t know you were at UCLA. What are you, a Junior now? 

You’ve grown.

And you’re super toned.

And you look older. 

And before you used to be super cute, and now you’re just super handsome.

But when you smile you look as if you’ve never aged since I last saw you. 

You look exactly the same to me. 

Woah Brandon. 

With registration tomorrow, there’s a lot of things that kind of open up to you regarding our futures.

This is the first time that everyone is taking classes simply because of their own interests.

I’m the only one that’s backing out of AP Lit, some people are taking 7 AP’s, some are continuing with science, math, psychology, etc. Some are going home early, some are staying from 0-6. 

It’s crazy to think that in 3 more months we’re done with this hellish year. And that our friends are getting accepted and moving away. And that everyone is growing up and getting closer to their own ambitions apart from others and peer pressure and the expectations of society. 

My friends say that I look my age now. I’m no longer that 9 year old girl I used to be. I don’t use caps as much as I used to. And all those nonsensical and imaginative fantasies that I’d spout constantly have slowed to a hesitant trickle. 

People are growing older, wiser, more cynical, colder, more compassionate, etc. 

It’s crazy to know how much we’ve changed, how much we’ve reconsidered, re-evaluated, and rewritten ourselves without even knowing what we were doing.

I wonder how far apart it will take us in the next year to come…

It’s something about this that makes me think so hard about what’s even going on here. Half of me still thinks it’s utter bullshit. And the other half is kind of flustered at the idea of it all. But what amazes me is the sheer ingenuousness of it all. To know that someone is trying to give you their all is a great deal of power given to you. There’s so much innocence and optimism within it; I can’t help but dismiss it because I think it’s all so ridiculous. People in the real world aren’t like that. This is all the stuff of fairytales. But wasn’t it a mere few months ago I was in that same situation? Giving it my 120% and more, regardless of the odds against me? It’s absolutely uncanny how the world likes to repeat your life events, except with a new perspective. Well at least that’s what it’s been like for me since forever. But I digress. It’s naive and stupid to do such a dumb thing. Don’t you know how fragile a heart can be? Don’t you know of all the bad people that are out there? Why must you be so dumb? Stop it. Stop trying to melt my stone heart. Don’t you get it? Stop it before you get hurt. I don’t ever want to be the one to say “I told you so”. Maybe I’m overthinking things again. Or maybe I’m trying too hard to not care. Don’t say such careless things you stupidhead.

We only talked briefly because there was always something that interrupted us, 

but he wanted me to get to know him.

Like really get to know him. 

And it made me super fucking ecstatic when he asked me because I’ve known him since middle school and I haven’t known a single personal thing about him. 

And I don’t know, I guess it made me super happy because he’s letting me in on something super private and not normally shared to anyone? 

Most likely it wasn’t only to just me. 

But it just made me happy when he asked me what I knew about him, and that he wanted to tell me more.