I’m back! Again. Kind of. Let me explain myself.

April was a lot, to say the least. I took a break from my blog because I needed time to gather myself with school starting up again and an odd lack of musical theatre in my life. I’ll respond to emails and be a functioning member of society as soon as AP Testing is over, whew.

I’m very excited for this summer when I can give priority to the things I enjoy doing. This blog will be catching a lot more action next month. I pinky promise. 

In the works~*~

  • That Theatre piece I promised! (Pfft, I’m only two months late, it’s fine.)
  • My 3 part fitness ultra-mega-master post that is almost a month late, but hey, it’s coming.
  • *pg. 2 of *pages
  • another music video ft. another song

Ah yes, so many things. I’m falling a bit behind where I want to be, but I think that’s okay. I’m still learning and growing as an artist/creator/person/thing, so it’s definitely okay.

However, I must admit- I lost a bit of my touch for a while.

I lacked inspiration and have been in a bit of an emotional/creative slump lately. That’s mainly the reason why I haven’t been writing. 

A few weeks ago, I had this huge artistic crisis (because I am extremely dramatic), and I actually drove to my friend’s house in the middle of the night to talk it out because I didn’t know what I was doing. I think I simply had so many ideas about what I wanted to do, create, and share with the world, that my mind sort of froze up and didn’t let me create anything meaningful. 

  1. I forgot about why this site even exists. It started to feel like 1) a chore and 2) a place where I felt weirdly censored, or like there were expectations about what I should post about and what I shouldn’t. And honestly, this breaks my heart because those are exactly the two things that I was trying to avoid upon the creation of this thing. This blog is just supposed to be fun! I’m supposed to be able to talk about how much I love my friends without the worry of sounding redundant! I shouldn’t feel like I need to make a statement all the time, or like what I have to say doesn’t matter. Honestly, sometimes it won’t matter, me talking about my day at school, not going to lie, probably doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but that’s the thing, it’s not supposed to matter, so why worry if it doesn’t? I think the more attention I started getting, the more pressure I began to feel. I started to feel like I needed to convey a particular character to my readers (or now viewers because of my YouTube channel) (ohoho, that’s a thing), which is awful. I thought I needed a shtick. I thought being myself wasn’t a good enough of shtick. I couldn’t figure out what songs to write; I couldn’t write poetry because it all sounded forced and the words didn’t fit right in my mouth; every time I tried to write a blog post, I just felt rather dumb. I spent two weeks just lying in bed, taking 2 hours naps in the middle of the day, my head crammed with so many ideas and no means of expressing them because I felt stuck. Sort of like when you need to pee, but you’re in a car stuck in traffic. Lots to get out of your system, no way to let it out.

  2. Anyway, I think this is because I felt phony. With the “need” of a “shtick,” and the release of my first couple videos, I just felt somewhat gross. I felt like a frilly personality, not a person. I’ll admit, often I feel like I’m not very real. Like it’s not realistic to constantly gush about how lovely Life is. Like I’m ignorant, or too idealistic to produce anything to be worth writing about. Like my words don’t hold any power unless I am questioning social norms or I am angry about the patriarchy. So many artists I look up to are powerful, incredible women, and I feel like I am 2 inches tall compared to them. They are strong. Unafraid to admit that they’re angry. Not willing to take poop from anyone. And I think everything I write is cotton candy waiting to be dissolved by a waterfall. So, basically, I felt insecure about my subject matter. And I still am, mind you.

  3. Then one day, actually that one night with Celia in the middle of my crisis, I re-read my mission statement:

    My mission is to spread the same kind of feelings of regard I have for living and existence to those who read my posts.

    I must admit, this blog is mildly selfish. I write to rationalize my own life and maybe even publicize. I  write because I love keeping in touch with you all, and I love seeing how far from home my words can reach. I won’t deny the mild narcissism that comes with having the audacity of running a blog, especially one named after myself.

    However, despite this, I do genuinely hope to bring perspective to the table in my posts whenever I write about my own life. Whether it’s just rambling about how much I appreciate everything (which is about 80% of my posts) or offering unsolicited advice, all I can offer is another point of view. My point of view is not better or worse than someone else’s, it is simply here for you to interpret as you wish.

    And if it brings you solace or joy, or if you disagree to the fullest extent, I appreciate you taking the time to peek into my life for a little while.

    I realized that shouldn’t feel worried about my fluffy writing. I really shouldn’t. I think that with how bad things are getting the world, and how inundated we are with the negativity and meaningless crap of the media, I do not believe that it is a crime to dwell on the positive things we have. I am in no way disowning the idea of fiery political statements and rants, in fact, I am behind it 100%. However, though I love reading it, discussing it with my friends, and sharing it with my family– I am not one to create it. Just like how an artist who focuses on landscapes perhaps wouldn’t want to paint portraits or vice versa. It’s another form of art that I prefer to leave in more capable hands. My writing is meant to be a rosy corner in the world where things are allowed to be okay. Where celebrities are not having scandals and being in high school does not suck eggs.
    It is meant to relate to others through the appreciation of the fundamentals of humanity, such as love, family, friends, nature, growth, etc. both in retrospect and in anticipation. I don’t have to feel insecure about that. I am unapologetic in my own fashion. I dare to turn every experience in my life into something I can be thankful for. I never feel broken down; I only feel like I have more room to build myself back up. Being positive is not sunshine and rainbows. Being positive is forgiving yourself and those around you. Being positive is having the courage to say, “Yes, this is pretty crappy, but this is what we have, and this is how we’ll use what we have to fix it.”

  4. So, despite my perpetual insecurity over the idea of my art being something that “matters,” I now know that I am okay. I am not small. My writing is not pointless. I read your emails: people telling me that I reminded them of how lovely their life is and helped them appreciate their time at home a little bit more. Tidal waves of relief and warmth seriously overcome me every time I get that like siren-like noise telling me that I have a new email, and I see it’s from one of you. I’ll allow myself to continue to be a ball of light, without feeling like a fraud, because someone has to do it, or else we’d sit in the dark. 

So, this post turned out to be a lot more serious and real than I had intended, but I like where this went! I love being honest with you all because it makes me feel like a real person, despite me being, like, “oooOoh, I have a ~blog~”

We all struggle with things, and it’s important to acknowledge that.

Despite this, April also brought me new friendships and lots of reignited passions. I re-enrolled in Gracie Jiu Jitsu this month after a 4-year break and competed in the American Cup. I attended Admit Weekend at Stanford last Thursday-Saturday and had the time of my life. I performed my poetry at an open mic for the first time ever, and I loved it. I am coming up on my last month of high school, and I feel very content. Very ready. Though I will be nostalgic once June 4th comes, I will not be upset. I feel like I have gotten as much out of these past four years as I can, and I do not regret a single thing. I feel grounded after years of floating through the air. I’m ready for whatever university has to offer.

So, that was this past month. Yes, again, April was a lot.

But, last, but not least—

Thank you.

For everything. I’m hanging in there.

You hang in there, too.

Lots of love,

5 replies on “April Was A Lot

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