Thoughts on Morality (Shower Post #4)

I think it’s a fair thing to say that the more we get older, the more jaded we get- we have less patience, we have less faith in others, we become more cynical or realistic, depending on your perspective.  I think for me, I have definitely become more cynical/realistic with age.  Whenever I go through something difficult, I think, why does no one know or feel my suffering?  Why does it feel like I am even more isolated and alone?  Instead of having faith in others, we fear reaching out because we don’t trust that anyone actually cares, or sincerely cares.  I think this is the logical path that people follow that can lead them to such a dark place, to the point of even suicide.  At this point, it seems like your life doesn’t count anyway, and it won’t matter.

For me, I get frustrated because in chronic illness, the suffering doesn’t end.  It’s not like a cold or a break up where your circumstances may improve eventually; they don’t.  You do.  Your mind sinks or swims.  And then I hide my fears because I’ve had it proven countless times to me that in the end, it seems I am the only one who can fully do anything about what I am going through.  Besides my dad and sometimes my mom and a few close friends, I am pretty much alone.  Almost no one else is there beside you every second living your life, observing it, experiencing, as much as you, having that strength of endurance.  People will enter and leave your life, maybe be a blessing even for the short run, but they can always fade at any given time.

We are all so scared of showing vulnerability, of laying out our cards and letting everyone else judge us, embrace us, or reject us.  Especially when we go on social media like Facebook and Instagram, and we are flooded by images of hot, fit bodies, attractive portraits of people laughing, having the time of their lives with their significant other on their vacation, surrounded by friends, or eating delicious food.  It is true that the positives and highlights are part of our lives, but they are only a small snapshot of the entire rhetoric.  Our whole society encourages us to hide our insecurities and to only portray our best selves, but it isn’t always the whole picture, the whole truth.

I do the same.  I only put up pics of my happiest moments of when I look good on Instagram.  It does make me feel better to take pride and look at these images and tell myself “Wow, my life is not bad!”  It does make me feel more or less validated when I get many likes.  But I also wish to be brave enough to allow myself to receive likes on my ugliest, saddest, most depressing snapshot of my life- even more so, I want to be brave enough to be okay with no likes if that’s what happens.  I may be afraid of judgment, or of dragging down other people’s happiness- but so what?  We gotta inject some sincerity and realism in what’s really going on in our lives, to show others our scars so that they can be more accepting and forgiving of theirs.

People don’t see me through the moments where doctors discuss my life span and ask deep cutting questions like “Have you ever had suicidal thoughts” and me, reluctantly admitting “yes.”  People don’t see me when I wake up in the morning and count the amount of meds I daily pop into my mouth or inhale.  People don’t see me when I am at home, physically and mentally too tired to complete simple tasks like laundry.  I fight everyday to live a fraction of energy and memories that others take for granted.

Maybe part of this is my fault, for not being more open, and for withholding part of the truth, I actually get more judged than not, because people see a “normal” young woman abusing a handicap sign, people see my beaming grins on my Insta, and people see me when I am trying my absolute best to participate happily in life.

I guess for me, faced with the morality of my being, and always reminded of how small of a drop of water I am in the ocean, I keep questioning, how do I make my life count?  It is not going to last forever, but that is out of my hands.

What I wish, is for people to think more on this question, on how they impact others, and to be part of a greater plan for us all to have faith that if we fall, the ones around us care enough to catch us, as cheesy as that metaphor is.  To come to terms with our true selves and the imperfection we are- taking pride in our strengths, accepting our flaws and vowing to work on improving them.  So that we give encouragement and faith to others, and in turn can let ourselves fall in faith.  Knowing that we are trying our best, even if that’s not what it looks like, even when others tell us we are crying wolf and victimizing ourselves, them telling us we’re fine, but us knowing for ourselves that we are not okay, and knowing that continuing to do our best is okay, it is enough.


Walking Dead Dream

I had the most horrifying nightmare last night where I shifted into multiple characters, all who had a pretty terrible time in the Walking Dead world.  I went to bed thinking my life was shitty, but woke up with a terrified shock from what I just lived through.  It felt so incredibly real.

I think it began as continuing off where an episode last left off, like it was starting a new season. The situation was that what was left of Rick’s crew, maybe around 12-15 people, had been living on a farm, they were all intense and on guard with guns.  A lot of wind was picking up, so naturally, many of us looked up- there was a large military looking vehicle looming over us, and I was playing on a swing- for a second, the thought that we were finally going to be saved flitted across my mind.  I started hearing gunfire ring out, and realized that one by one, the people across the field were going down like dominos.  They were being picked off.  From the air.  Some of us were looking elsewhere though, distracted- and I realized a horde of the walking dead were headed towards us.  It was a massacre, where men and women alike ran towards the shed to retrieve more guns, fending off the zombies while each continued to fall down; the zombies were being hit from all sides alike.  One lone woman, Sasha, ran towards the fence, but like everyone else, she too, fell over and didn’t get back up.  My mind furiously debated over making it over to the other shed, where my dog was kept, to shoot her before she got eaten alive, but then- blank.  All was dark.  And yet, I was still thinking, has the scene ended, or did I get killed, or both?

Then, it was like a rewind, and I paid attention this time to one of the members of our party.  She was an attractive, young, bi-racial woman.  Towards the back of the house, she comes face-to-face with the military leader, a perhaps 40s, arrogant looking white dude with a cropped hairstyle.  He charms her, they walk into the house, and enter a dark tv room to discuss matters.  She has that permanent frown on her face, but they seem to come to an agreement.  He assures her that it’s better not to alarm the others that the military force is here, and that they won’t come under any harm.  Because this is the Walking Dead, it is implied they hook up.  Cut to next scene, she runs out the house, appalled at what she is seeing as her friends get shot down all around her.  As the lone survivor, she realizes all is lost, and in the chaos runs towards the fence.  Because the general is fond of her, he lets her go.

We see the POV of the pilot now, as he flies over the farm and discovers living residents.  As if it were a video game, he zooms in, centers on the face of each terrified individual, and aims right at the face, and they go down.  Later on, he claims he was just following orders from the general, and it was like a repeat of MyLai Massacre.

To be finished another time.

Triggered Memories and Hope: Subzero Warm Mask (Solution for Lung Patients)

Triggered Memories

I’m having a coughing fit and my mom tossed a bag of HALLS Defense cough drops at me, the vitamin c assorted citrus kind… and suddenly I thought of a memory probably from 16 years ago when my 3rd grade homeschool teacher took one out and offered it to me in my dining room, where I’m sitting now.  I was too young to understand that my education was at the mercy of my homeschool teachers, and at their kindness and understanding. It makes me more determined to teach compassion to those who don’t innately have it, and I get the whole annoyance of being “too politically correct,” but I also think there are way more people who have the sensitivity of a rock.


I was web surfing and thinking, what can I do to help my medical situation now?  To tailor my situation to help improve my quality of life, instead of moping on what’s happened and what will?  I’m thinking of investing in a Modobag, the travel suitcase that you can sit on and glide through airports for so I can save energy and make things a bit easier on my body.   I also came across a subzero warm mask yesterday, and if it’s as great as the comments say it is for people with lung problems, then I will be super grateful.  It would be life changing and help me so much in being able to navigate the winter and the cold and allow me to go out and spend time with people and do my job and so many opportunities that feel robbed from me.

What I’ve been up to

I think I don’t update as much because I try so hard to edit and perfect each blog post before I upload it… but it might be hindering my creative and thinking process so I’m just going to log a “quick” write.

The weather’s been getting warmer and I guess my mood is somewhat better in comparison to a few months ago, but I still have a lot of stress and anxiety and am having trouble managing it… I’m just grateful to avoid insomnia and fall asleep each night at the moment.  I’ve been working hard to focus on the activities, moments, and events I can join in on in life with friends and other people, it’s a work-in-progress, but isn’t it always, and isn’t that the point of living?

-Went to Girl’s group Saturday morning and then tried to sleep at Allison’s to make up for the all nighter the day before… battling insomnia does suck.  I was really tired and semi-delirious, but Sean’s  BBQ was fun regardless, just socializing and being able to be there.  The burgers were yummy and I mostly chilled and talked to ppl here and there.  Chuen showed me how to relax my shoulder and chest muscles better, and I bugged Caleb about his chinese.

I been trying to advance a lot in reading, getting back into my love for movies, and definitely learning Korean and history.  There are so many sad, tragic events in history… -_- Yet I’m so curious, and the importance of never forgetting is omnipresent in my mind.

I’m kinda drifting away from Spotify and finding new music, kinda like the weird mood I had in the past months of keeping away from movies, not sure why. What I HAVE been super into lately is animations, particularly animes and Pixar-Disney movies that I’ve missed out on.  I watched “Inside Out,” “The  Princess and the Frog”, “Your Name,” “Paprika”, and most recently, “Wreck-It Ralph.”

I have to say, some of my all-time favorite animations is definitely “Tangled” and “Big Hero 6”, but “Your Name” and “Wreck-It Ralph” definitely join the ranks.  I don’t think it’s solely because of their unique animation style and story, as many of these hit those check marks, but their pacing and story telling really stands out… not overly done, and makes you emotionally invested in the characters and their journey- truly, Ed Catmull was right about that.

Next, I am going to watch “Sing” which I believe was developed by Sony Pictures?  Need to double check on that… and now it’s gotten me all excited and curious about the other processes in making a movie, such as how they create the story boards, develop it in animation software, and incorporate music.

Quick shout out to “Paprika”, as even though I wouldn’t count it among my favorites due to its haphazard style (maybe that was the point), it definitely made me feel like one of my favorite movies “Inception” was inspired by its concept, particularly the elevator and dream sequences.

Dreams and Evolutions

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always had vivid dreams and a wild imagination.  I’m not sure if it was because of the side effects of some medication I took, but it was both a blessing and a nightmare.

My dreams have ranged from hanging onto a rope in some never-ending, Alice in Wonderland-esque tunnel, where a ray of light revealed gold specks of dust drifting down gently around me, both an eternal moment of tension as well as peace, to clowns hunting down my parents and I in a mall, and sitting on a toilet in the middle of another mall while dinosaurs ran everywhere.

I used to document every single dream, because I almost always remembered each one from the night before, until an embarrassing moment where I forgot to private a post and someone in the dream read it.  But I’ve decided to start again.

The one I had last night was really wonderful.  I was living in this building with two other people, with classy, warm-auburn brick walls and christmas lights hanging aglow.  It started with a Daredevil feel, where I was trying to escape from a building across the waters to get back to my house, of whose deck or patio was overlooking the waters.  This was my backyard.  As I hung in the cozy light where the interior kitchen was paired with a black, clean feel of the floor, and brick walls, I basked in the light, feeling comforted.  As I walked across and opened two glass doors, I was shocked to discover it doubled into another much larger area with the similar design and feel, but with many tables spread as a restaurant.  The ambiance was perfect.  Later on, when I walked out, I realized the entire building was designed uniquely in an elongated fashion, to fit a thin strip of the border between water and land- the other side had lamp posts, a sidewalk, and then a quaint street.


My friend is really knowledgeable in biology, and even though I was always easily confused when I studied back in high school and even college, I always found it really fascinating.  Now that I have more time, I should go back and just learn more about the world of human evolution, and marine biology.