Inspiration in Strange Places: My Story

Hey everyone! I’m just writing this, as kind of an apology. But it is also a normal post for me.

Well, two days ago I got an assignment for school, it was to write an allegory. I didn’t have a length requirement, but I did have some serious writer’s block. Most people tell me to turn off all distractions, and get down to business. That doesn’t really work with how my brain works, I have to have something going all the time. However, one of the shows I was watching caused me to have a sudden burst of inspiration.

Now because I think it is interesting, I’m going to post my allegory on this post:

In a small country village in the mountains, an elder sat down with her grandkids to tell them a story. She told them to sit still and be quiet. “Now I’m going to tell you a little story about when I was around your age.”

This village used to be under a tyrant. Originally, before Lord Kaza came here, we were all unique, and we all had our own unique markings, something that we are born with. Our markings show something special about us, such as a skill or special ability. It also holds the key to our personalities. As you kids should know by now.  Kaza had a very special mark, one that showed that he was a great leader.  

In about a year after he came to rule, the rest of us noticed that his marking has changed, it was no longer a sign of power, but, a sign of equality. It was then that our fate was sealed. He began holding regular conferences and speeches, all about one thing; equality. Not even a few months later, he started decreeing his ideas, to produce equality. Such as playing a recording of him talking about equality, and how with everyone being different causes conflict to arise. That our marks are evil, that the only way to be truly happy was to get rid of them, and in their place, the equal sign.  Anyone who did not follow these rules were considered miscreants, and forced to listen to only his voice, in a small room, unable to get out.

It took time, but eventually we, the townsfolk, one at a time we allowed him to use an ancient artifact that contains magic to remove our markings and replace them with the equality symbol. Now everyone who removed their marks has to be immersed in his melodic, hypnotising voice, telling us to forget about our marks. To forget who we are, to become one and the same, that we are better off without our differences. No one is better than the anyone else. This goes on for a long time, until one day, six friends come into town.

The day that Bridgitte, Elise, Brittany, Sakura, Tsubaki and Hinata showed up, was the day that would change our fate. When they were sitting at our cafe, choking down the terrible muffins, discussing the reason why they were here. They didn’t know what was going on here that they needed to help with, after all, to outsiders this town looked like the happiest place on earth. The villagers didn’t understand how they were friends, they were so different from each other, yet their friendship couldn’t be stronger.

It made us begin to wonder, wondering about why we strived for equality, when we are no closer than we were when we didn’t know each other.  Lord Kaza didn’t like that they were different and still close friends; he wanted everyone to be the same. Afraid of a possible revolution against him, he lured the six into a trap at the Vault of Marks; the place he stored all of our marks, our identities.  He took their marks by force, and then locked them in a cell, to prevent them from being able to get their marks back. Within the cell, he played his recordings, over and over. Slowly but surely, their behavior began changing, they became less like themselves.

They began discussing amongst themselves how they were going to get out of their and get their marks back. They came to the conclusion that the only way they were going to do that was to have one of them fake being converted, in order to make it less obvious that they planted a spy. Elise agreed to spy, because she was the one who had liked the town to begin with and was peace loving, therefore least likely to draw attention to herself.  Lord Kaza escorted Elise to his mansion, the only expensive building in entire town; also the place where all of the newcomers must stay until their house is built.

One evening, when the butler was delivering a glass of wine for Lord Kaza he tripped over a small rug and spilled the wine all over his boss. Elise noticed that his equality symbol was fading, the wine had washed it off, revealing his original mark! Astonished, Elise tried to find a way to tell her friends without letting him know that she knew. She would have to wait until the next day, when she could see them again. In the meantime one of the other villagers began questioning Lord Kaza, so he was placed with the other five girls, to become re-immersed with the ways of equality.

The next day, when Elise was able to walk around town, she saw that her friends had also pretended to accept it. She immediately ran over and threw a glass of water on Lord Kaza, making his equality mark disappear.  One by one, gasps were heard in the crowd, people began protesting; before finally one of the villagers cried out asking what is going on. Why did we have to give up our marks, while you didn’t?

This time, Lord Kaza  was backpedaling, trying to come up with excuses as to why he did what he did. Ending up yelling at them telling them that he is better than them, and he is the one who brought peace and harmony. At that time, the other villagers decided that they didn’t need him to rule over them. They chased him out of town before running to the Vault of Marks and releasing their personalities in the form of their marks. Deciding that they want to live with their differences, and get to know each other, as themselves, and become friends, as opposed to having someone constantly tell you how things should be, and what is happiness. You have to find that out for yourself.

“So kids, can you figure out what this story means?”

This story means that it is ok to be yourself, and that equality isn’t the answer to conflicts. In this, equality makes everyone the same, with no one better than someone else at something, no one can improve themselves. The team is only as strong as its weakest link, if everyone is the same, that means there is no one who is stronger than the weakest link.  Without someone strongest than the weakest link, there is no way for the weakest to become stronger.

Patience: An Anonymous Blogger Lesson

Sometime within this last week, I decided to make a second attempt at something I have been wanting to do for a couple years at least. But I have one problem, and it has nothing to do with WHAT I want to do, it has to do with ME. The thing is, if I can’t learn something practically overnight, I get depressed and my self-confidence goes down. After all, everyone else that I know that can do the things I try to do (and normally think I fail at), can do them practically perfectly. What I forget: They have spent the majority of their life getting to where they are, most of them started when they were very young. They have put countless hours of practice into perfecting their skills. So there is no way that I can do that in two or three days, no matter how fast of a learner I am. Like with school for instance, you can “learn” a whole lot in one day, but how much of that can you do perfectly, how many questions do you get wrong in the meantime. To learn something isn’t to just magically be able to do it one day, it’s the art of being able to have patience, and understand that you WILL make mistakes, nobody's perfect, even professionals have made mistakes.

Another example, at least with me, is drawing, I have always loved to draw, and I would think I was great at it until I saw someone else’s picture, then I would just shut down and go pout. Even now I still sometimes do that, but that is a topic for another post, another day.

Back to my original thought.

I have always wanted to play guitar, so I had recently picked up my guitar that I’ve had for a few years and found an App that I thought would be able to help me. After using the app for a while I realized that there is a set amount of time that you have to be able to progress through the lessons each day, that you can’t just blow through them all unless you buy a premium account. I was frustrated at that, because I wanted to learn it all overnight, I wanted to become a perfect guitar playing in only a couple of days. I was impatient. That night I had gone to bed, when I woke up the next day, I had more time allowance on the app. When I picked up my guitar, my skills had increased a little bit. Taking a break from learning allows your brain time to process and store all the information and techniques you have learned during the course of the day.

If you just cram everything in in a short amount of time, you won’t retain anything, unless of course you are like a computer that can remember anything you put into it.

I personally think I learned at least a little bit about what patience is, and WHY we need to learn it. Patience is two things, patience is an art form, and patience is a what allows potential to become reality, everyone has potential, but only a few make their potential their reality. If you try to take a shortcut, you’ll be cut short. That’s why sometimes things that are made in a factory by the thousands, have lower quality than those things that are handcrafted and take hours to complete.

You can’t rush learning, and you can’t rush life.

Signed,

Anonymous

Cosplay, the Tokyo in Tulsa Adventure: My Story

Well, let’s just say, Tokyo in Tulsa is my second favorite time of year, only beat by Christmas (no, it has nothing to do with any possible presents I may receive.) It’s a time of cosplay, (for those who don’t know, you dress up in costume as your favorite character from movies, games, anime, comics, you name it, someone has probably cosplayed as it.) friends, fan-girling and DRAMA. Not just any drama, cosplay drama, personal drama, and just plain petty drama. (Or is all drama kind of petty?)

The weekend started off pretty fun, Friday, July 17th, one day before my birthday, we get to Tokyo in Tulsa and we hurry up, then get to wait in line for 2+ hours. Made a few friends, though it was short lived. That day I was cosplaying as my own character in a game I have yet to play, it was fun because there was nothing that dictated what I had to look like. So therefore I got to be creative. After we all got our passes, I immediately went to the Vendor Hall to look around and see what all I could get. The first day I didn’t really get much of anything, since I did spend most of it running around just looking at all of the other cosplays, and getting all sorts of pictures (I will make a post consisting of said pictures, for those who are interested.)

Saturday comes along, and BAM! Here comes all the drama, its the big day! The day I can show off the cosplay my mom and I, and her ex boyfriend, and my best friend, and my aunt all worked on for who knows how long. The cosplay that was the product of all of our blood, sweat and tears (no really, literal blood, sweat and tears… lots of sweat and lots of tears.) I was Annie from League of Legends, and my moms now Ex boyfriend was supposed to be a giant bear named Tibbers.

We make it to the pre judging, and that is when the problems began. The guy that was supposed to be in this big cosplay was getting cold feet, scared he might lose his balance. The rest of the day, I was running around looking at everything with my best friend.

By the time the cosplay contest came around, I wasn’t having the best day I could have, I was worried that the cosplay contest might  be a complete disaster. We are getting all lined up back stage and we begin putting the costume on the guy that was supposed to be Tibbers, and he starts freaking out and backs down, despite the fact that we had gone over this over and over. So last minute, only 30 minutes or so until we get to go on stage, we have to change the cosplay to fit my best friend, who is six (6) inches shorter than the original. On top of that, the cosplay was falling apart, and quite frankly it wasn’t going well at all.

We manage to get the bear put together on my best friend and then it was our turn, I skipped out on stage, with Tibbers close (ish) behind. We had the LOUDEST reaction out of any of the cosplays that was in the contest. In the end though, we didn’t win, we didn’t even get mentioned. However, it was still a ton of fun!

Just a little update on me! Your loyal blogger!

Signed,

Anonymous

Selfishness

I know most of you reading this don’t see yourself as being a selfish person, most of us don’t actually. We like to believe that we are giving and are not self-centered. However, have you ever felt like as kids your parent(s) was centering everything you did together toward what someone else wanted? Well my mom was doing that today, and I was thinking how can she and her boyfriend be so selfish as to not do something I want to do, until I noticed, that I was being selfish for expecting them to do whatever I wanted to do.

Selfishness can show up in the most irritating places, and typically it slaps us in the face when we least expect it to. Like for me, it was today. How many more times have I been disappointed because they did something THEY wanted to do, and I wasn’t involved? Well, they do that a lot, but they are adults and I’m a kid, I don’t HAVE to do everything they do. In fact I know they need time on their own, away from me. Even though I think everything should be focused around me. Even though it doesn’t, what I want isn’t MORE important than what THEY want, but it also isn’t NOT important. Sometimes I feel as though they don’t see it as important, even though I know they know it is.

Sometimes I just have to be patient and wait my turn to get my way.

Moral of the story is if you expect others to do what you want to do, you’re going to have to do something they want to do. Otherwise you are being selfish.

Signed,

Anonymous

A Short Backstory - My Story

I know I’ve said in previous “My Story” posts that I have dealt with bullying, as well as addictions in the past. However one thing that many do not know is, I’m also in a certain 20% of the female population. Despite that, I refuse to be seen as either a statistic or as a victim. I WAS a victim, but currently, I believe I am an overcomer.

Now, to delve a little deeper into my childhood.

I was six years old when it first happened. I was on my own in my clubhouse in my grandparents backyard. My cousin came up to join me, at the time, he and I were really close. That was when the first incident occurred, the time I was first molested. It didn’t really affect me that much at the time, because I didn’t understand what happened. There were several incidents over the years, but it stopped when he turned eighteen (18). It had gone on for about three and a half years. Now I’m almost an adult, I won’t say I’ve forgiven him, I won’t say that I’ve moved on, and I won’t say that I am OK. There are feelings that one can only understand by going through that.

In the rest of this post, I will attempt to describe my journey. What had happened didn’t really sink in right away, actually I didn’t understand all of it until I was in highschool. I guess that it may have been a measure of self-preservation. Once it did hit, it was much much harder to deal with, along with understanding what happened, came all of the emotions. It had taken me about eleven years to be able to tell someone about it.

The couple years after I understood what happened I spent trying to forget. I was having one of the hardest battles with myself that I had ever dealt with. Even with the  years of bullying. It’s one thing to be bullied and to be treated like you are worthless by someone you aren’t related to, it is so much harder to cope after having someone that you are related to, and whom you trusted treat you like that. What my cousin did bears no physical scars, but the emotional scars are there forever. He fractured my self-esteem, killed my trust; even among family, above all that, he caused me to question myself.  

After all that, I was always wondering; wondering if I was only worth a good time, that someone could easily just put a price on me. Wondering if I was even worth love at all. To this day I still wonder about that, wondering why anyone could love, or even deal with a broken, scared girl like me.

By the time I had told my family about it, that made it harder. Even though over the years I was able to contain my thoughts, and hide it for so long, once it was out in the open I found it much harder to control my anger, distrust and hurt toward him. The majority of my family at the time didn’t, and some still don’t, understand that it will take a while, even longer than I have already dealt with it to be able to forgive him. Now that everyone knows, it seems like they expect me to just move on, that is easier said than done.

My story isn’t out here because I want people to feel sorry for me, it’s not there so I can get attention, It’s here for people to see that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I will be OK, I will eventually move on, I will eventually forgive him. I will NOT however forget. There are days that I won’t think about it, that it doesn’t bother me and that I almost don’t remember it. Then there are days that it haunts me, those nights where I can’t think of anything else, where all I can do is remember the many days I spent having fun, worry-free.

I will say one thing, that the saying “ignorance is bliss” is true.

Signed,

Anonymous

Who are We?

"Who am I?" don't we all ask that question at some point or another? Well, I have an answer

to who we all are; just maybe not the answer you are looking for.

We are who we make ourselves, our past doesn't define us; nor do other people, the only one

who can define us is, well; us. Just because your past isn't the best, and you were abused and mistreated doesn't give an excuse for you to be all "poor me". If you don't think you can do something, try! You'll never know if you don't try.

If you have friends that are trying to help by just listening, you are not wasting their time by talking to

them, if they aren't willing to listen, they are not true friends. All I am saying in this post you are, who you allow yourself to be. If all you allow is the negative thoughts, or negative memories, or negative past rule you, all you will ever think is that you are worthless, and not friend worthy, but you are not worthless, and everyone deserves a friend. Never believe anything else,no matter how much it has been driven into your head, don't believe it.

Do not allow yourself to stay downtrodden, and wallow in your self-pity, stop and think. Think about how you feel now, do you like how you are, do you like the current you? Most of us don't, I'm only just beginning to allow myself to believe I'm beautiful, and worth something. Begin to allow yourself to believe your friends when they tell you you are OK, that you are NOT worthless.

Signed,

Anonymous

Words DO Hurt!

I'm sure everyone has heard the phrase "Sticks and stones can break your bones, but words

will never hurt you". Well most of us know that is not true, words can hurt, and sometimes

can hurt more than "sticks and stones". Physical wounds can heal, but emotional wounds take

so much longer, and usually cannot heal without help from family, friend even a therapist.

For an example I'm going to use some of my personal experiences to show you what happens

when people use words instead of fists when bullying. Sometimes even physical bullying can

leave emotional scars, scars deeper than just the bruises.

Occasionally some bullies in my class during elementary school, would push me around and make fun of me, not for any reason in particular, but almost like it was a sport. What they didn't know is that it hurt me more when they called me names, it made me feel worthless, and that is worse than anyone punching me in the gut. Due to the bullying I've endured during both elementary and middle school, I'm quiet, reserved and skittish. Not so skittish as to be afraid of everyone, there are the few people whom I trust.

Signed,

Anonymous