You would think...

That after graduating with a bachelor's degree in creative writing I would be able to stand strong in the face of those naysayers that said it was a stupid major to get into. But no. As much of an accomplishment as it may be, people still don't get it.

Okay, first off, fanfiction isn't lame. I hate when people say that. Or when people give you that, "are you serious?" look. Because, you know what? Writing fanfiction is a worthwhile form of writing. Why?

Because fanfiction writers ARE writing, which is more than I can say for some "actual" writers.

Fanfiction writers write for the love and the passion they have for the characters, the story, the universe. Fanfiction writers don't write for money or for fame or, even for reviews, because, let's face it, a bunch reviews doesn't get you much other than a bunch of reviews.

Fanfiction provides the framework to practice the ideas that need test driving and, when you learn to not let reviews fuel your ego and instead humbly say "thank you" for the compliment. Then you can go on and fully realize what a good piece of writing looks like and what a bad piece of writing looks like. Once that's done, you'll be able to see whether or not what you're writing is good or bad.

*sigh*

People think, if you're writing then you should write your own story with your own characters, all original. But the reality is that nothing is original anymore. Everything is based off of something off of something off of something. And sometimes, with that fact, it's difficult to feel anything but pressure to be...something that is impossible to be.

-_-x I just hate the eye roll. The teasing. Writing is writing. I don't write to be famous. To be rich. I write to write because I love it. I love the characters, the story, the universe. And all the practice I get from writing fanfiction, enables me to get a better grip on my personal stories that I want to share and teaches me how to love them and write them too.

Sincerely Yours,

Dear Father God,

I love You. I don't say that enough and for that I am sorry. Actually, for a lot of things, I'm sorry.

Like for last night. I'm sorry for getting so angry and frustrated and anxious. I'm sorry that I came to You like that, so accusatory and so upset. I'm sorry that I curled up in a ball and hid from You instead of curling into Your arms and being honest. I know that I don't really have to be honest, that there is nothing I can hide from You. But...I also know that You love me too much to ignore me, and yet last night, like many other nights, I let myself believe You don't care. I hate my selective memory. But You already know that.

I was frustrated. I still am frustrated. I feel like maybe You're testing me or maybe trying to teach me something and I just haven't figured out what it is yet. I feel lonely. Not because You're not there, but just lonely in my thoughts. Which I think is so dumb because I'm pretty open. I haven't hid my thoughts from anybody.

Well, I guess that's not true. I have hid my thoughts from people. But it's just because I don't know how to make sense of it all yet. I think I know what I want and what I want from other people, but, You know, I'm not sure how to ask for them. Or even if I should ask for them. Which is why I came to You last night. I don't know what to do and so, my thoughts keep coming back to the idea that maybe I'm not supposed to do anything. Maybe it's all about trusting You.

But I do trust You. I just don't trust myself. I don't trust my own perception. I'm such a bad listener! And I let myself get so distracted.

That's why it is so hard. I know all things are possible with You. I know that I can't do anything without You. I mean, that's what you taught me through the musical You called me to do right?

"Can I form a single mountain? Take the stars in hand and count them? Can I even take a breathe without God giving it to me?"

You are the one that does it all and has the big plan laying out in front of You, but...I can't tell if I'm obeying or missing everything completely. I feel like I'm not making sense of anything and I just want to hear You. Like, actually hear you.

I...ugh. Even reading this over I feel like all it says is "I". This shouldn't be about me, this should be about You. My life should revolve around You and I should just submit to You.

"Hear my cry, o God; listen to my prayer. From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe"

Please. I want to cling to You Lord, I want it to be all about You. Lead me so that I will follow, because I know once I do...everything else will fall into place.

With all the love that You have given me,

Aarika

In the future, but stuck in the past.

So, my sleeping schedule has been a little ridiculous:

The earlier I sleep, the easier it is to sleep through the night.

The later I sleep....well...the earlier I wake up.

Gah! How fair is that?!?

Ah well. What can you do about it? I will say this though. Waking up earlier gets me some uninterrupted computer time with the internet all to myself. XD "nax! what a bonus!" So, let's do a quick recap on yesterday...or rather the today that happened yesterday, and when I am able to find the camera later, I'll add pictures.

But here's what to expect in my next post:
[these are not pictures I took, just ones i found. The ones i took will be posted, but they pretty much are summed by these ones.]

Our trip to Ocean Park

Where we encountered fish that eat dead skin for 120ph/20 minutes (or 10 minutes with purchase of Ocean Park Ticket

And also, an AMAZING and soothing Jellyfish display

Then our venture into the Mall of Asia

where we got a little something for one of my dearest cousins.

Then trekked to TriNoma
just end our day with the Ju-Ju Boy worn out and cranky.
Good day. Hopefully I'll have pictures up soon.

till later.

i just need some clarity.

James 1:5-6
"If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him."

Lately, my mind has been in shambles.

There are so many things that I've learned about myself within the last few weeks that I'm not sure where my head is at anymore. I've gotten inspired in a completely different way than what was expected and now it seems to have thrown all of my original plans onto the drawing board again. But is that wise? Is that safe?

the big question seems to be: Am I considering all of this for the right reasons? Or am I putting myself on a path that is more than a little rickety? More like, into the unknown?

I want to jump. But should I jump? And what are the repercussions that will follow if I do?

What are the repercussions that will follow if I don't?

Lord, I just want your guidance.
I want to do the right thing for the right reasons
And I want to trust that you'll take care of it all.

Please just, help me find You in all this.

I really am a 90's kid.

whenever I've seen those bulletins online that say to "mark" all of the things off some list that start off the with the request:

"finish this sentence: ice ice _____"

then moves on to mention the existence and coolness of yo-yos, skip it, and the rubix cube, I'll admit, they would age me. But moreover, they reminded me of everything I used to love about television and entertainment.

Recently, upon being reminded once more to truly think back on it all, I realized, especially in looking at what plagues our tv's now, that my childhood was a good one.

I mean, the majority of my time was spent in front of the television and I will say, I was a very happy child because of it. Granted, I have glasses and an extremely over-active imagination to show for it, but I was happy.

And lately, now, I find it hard to find something GOOD to watch, which makes me sad. -_-x

I mean, all there is now are the melodramatic sagas of teenagers with babies and small town supercouples that go against all odds, as well as hard-boiled detectives that use the system and their influence to cover for each other's mistakes. And that's all great...in moderation. But all the time? It's no wonder that our society is the way it is: desensitized to violence, corruption, and sex.

That's all we watch. Everything has a compromise. But what happened to the good old days when it was just plain entertainment? When it was funny and moral and just plain...good?

What happened to shows on -->Come on! You remember, things like:

When Melissa Joan Heart really did Explain it All...

When Larisa Oleynik was the original American Teenager with a secret life.
Only her secret was WAY cooler...

And Shelby Woo was the only detective we trusted.

And let's not forget what came before Survivor and Fear Factor.

Remember Legends of the Hidden Temple?
Or "GUTS"?
with it's big huge glowing mountain that was begging to be conquered?

What happened to all of that?

And why is Saturday Night Live the ONLY live sketch show that survived through our times?

The cast of All That were my heroes

And RoundHouse...well, they made me want to be a performer. Crystal Lewis has always been my idol.the 90's were a time where things were just good. Baggy pants and rainbow colored collared shirts and all...they were good. And they knew what good tv was.

see?

*sigh* I don't know. I guess it's just a shame that the state of television today is where it is. And I wonder if my younger cousins, nephews and nieces now are going to talk about Hannah Montana and Spongebob as fondly as I talk about Pinky and the Brain and Rocko's Modern Life.

I wonder if Wizards of Waverly Place is going to make as big an impact as Sabrina the Teenage Witch?

Is 90210 and Life Unexpected as good as Boy Meets World and Full House?

And will Degrassi and Secret Life of the American Teenager be the moral lessons for teens now as Roundhouse was for me?

I don't know. I just don't know. But I guess they will have to be.

I will say this though. I miss those shows....a lot.
Rest In Peace my dear childhood. And may you forever live in my memory.
=P

What Cures Monday Morning Blues?

Tuesdays.

So this is how it went --> Monday, 7:something in the morning she asked:

"what do you expect to do with that?"

A question thrown at me in regards to my major and my degree and the answer that I always give is this:

"Hopefully get published."

Then she threw this at me:

"That's it? You do know that only 10% of writers can live off of their work right?"

BAM. Slap in the face. A statistic. She hit me with a statistic. (ouch.) It was actually in the way she said it that unbalanced me. It was like she was saying, "You really expect to be that good? What are you retarded?" and it was in that moment that I faltered from my once steady pace into a "dragging-my-feet" kind of movement.

It hurt. It was unsettling and brought to surface all of the feelings of inadequacy that I've been successful in keeping to myself. I've always known how ridiculous I sound when I tell people all of the things I want to do with my life. People, honestly, look at me and raise their brow to my optimism before ultimately brushing me aside. I can see it in their faces. I know what they are all thinking. "If you think you can do it, go ahead and try."

See, that's not really a vote of confidence people, it's merely a nice way of saying, "You're most likely going to fail epically, but, hey, at least you tried, right?"

So from that moment in the morning I spiraled down into this seemingly never-ending hole of doubt over everything I've ever written or dreamed. And began to ask myself, "If this doesn't work out...what else is there?"

The truth: I don't think there is anything else. Anything else I would really want to do anyway. This has always been everything and at the root of it all, it's where everything I am stems from. So, in short, I had an intense case of writer's block because of all this doubt and was near-close to blindness.

blah.

But thankfully...Monday evening ended and so began Tuesday. Glorious Glorious Tuesday, making my way through French into English 318: Introduction to Fiction Writing.

Now, when I stepped into the class, her voice resonated within my heart, "You do know that only 10% of writers can live off of their work right?" And I felt my stomach drop as our workshop began. But after reading my piece,

(a rather riveting tale of my monotonous routine at work.)

My teacher smiled at me and nodded, "Very well written and with a lot of great stuff in there."

Okay, call me easily amused, but when a published Author compliments you, you take it. And suddenly the whole world seemed to be smiling again. No matter what she may have said, I know I'm a good writer and other people know I'm a good writer, so...why doubt it? The only one who is allowed to diminish my dreams and my aspirations is MYself. And she can keep her statistics.

hah. want to know what else I learned?

In my high school English classes were always taught that statistics can strengthen an argument, but now-a-days, especially in my line of work, a statistic, though they can sometimes get the point across, can also come off as dry. Impersonal. A generalization.

I learned that a character should never be a generalization and you have to add your own twist to them as people or else no one will read about them. No one wants to read about BORING people.

Therefore, I spit on that statistic. I refuse to be a generalization.

it's finally happened.

at first it was like this...Then this...and now it has finally come to this...
Dear God,
"my soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to you word."
Psalms 119:28

and so, the season ends.

Nicole Nordman once said in one of her songs that:

"Time brings change. And change takes time."

I think this summer I've seen more change than I could even imagine having time for, but...what can you do?

This is what I do:

haha. Here it goes.

Time ticks on and on.
I see moments pass me by in an instant
As the sun continues to set from east to west.

There are many things that I can't change,
Like the fact that each day I'm another day older.
Or the fact that things won't ever be the way they were--
last year, last month, last week, or yesterday.

I can't even change the fact that things are always changing.

it's really ironic actually.
When you think about it...

Change is constant.

Change is consistent.

We consistently change.

How about that?

first smore...

the other night...for the first time ever.
I had a smore.

My friends around me,
All far more experienced with the idea of these delicious morsels,
told me I was missing out.
So I had one.

And it was delicious.

But then someone asked me, "Didn't it change your life?"
And I had to think, if it really changed anything.

I'm not going to lie. It was really satisfying.
It was nice and warm.
Comforting even.

And all of the poptart smores I had ever had paled terribly in comparison.
But did it change my life?
Was I suddenly more whole than I was before?
All because of a perfectly toasted marshmallow, a piece of chocolate and a couple graham crackers?

They said I was.
My friends had told me prior to the consumption of my first smore that I had not lived yet.
But is that the truth?
Was my life truly a vast hole of nothingness because I had never had a smore before?

I don't think so.
I'd like to think that I have a greater source of sustenance than a silly smore.

But it was good.
It was darn delicious.
And...I kinda want another one.

But was it really that good?
Was it really so good that my whole life was changed?
Can I live without it now that I've tried it?

I guess that's the question now.

pray that I figure out...
because deciding that an inconsequential temporarily satisfying piece of sweetness is life changing....
doesn't necessarily mean it's life changing for the better.
In fact...it could just to an addiction of temporary satisfaction...
And that could only lead to trouble...and a life full of searching to fill a void that I've created.

sometimes...ignorance truly is bliss.

ps. there is so much more to life than smores.

Chapter Two: The Light Switch

It was so dark.

I had been left in the darkness for so long, but a hand had taken hold of mine and was leading me through it. There had been times when I had been grabbed by things unknown, things unseen and frightened by the horrors that seemed to want to take me, but this hand made me feel safe so I clung to it.

I clung to that hand, because I knew that there was a man they all talked about, a man who would save me, and I had this overwhelming feeling that this was Him. How could it not be? I could have put my life on the fact that this person guiding me was that man named Jesus and so I trusted that soon enough I would see the light.

I don't know how long it was but all of a sudden I felt a wall on my side. A wall! That must mean there is a door somewhere so I giddily ran my other hand along it, silently thanking God for taking me closer and closer to salvation. Suddenly I ran across a bump in the wall and I stopped moving, feeling it cautiously with my hand to try and understand what it was.

A switch?

Yeah, i think it's a switch.

But what for?

Why would there be a switch? Unless...

A LIGHT SWITCH!

It HAD to be a light switch!

With an overwhelming amount of excitement I took a deep breath, praying that it would work and flipped it, suddenly hit with a blinding flash of white.

And the whole world came into view.

It took a while to adjust but...it was beautiful.

I felt tears fill my eyes, slightly from the fact that I was partially blinded and could not make out anything I was seeing, but mostly because I was so in awe. After what seemed like an eternity in the darkness, I could see. I could see everything.

I then realized that my hand was still gripping Jesus' hand and I had to thank Him, after all, it was because of Him that I had found my way to the wall and subsequently to the light switch. In a flurry of happiness I turned the words, "Thank you," nearly off my tongue when I froze and I felt things suddenly dim and my heart rate slow to almost a dead stop.

This hand that I had been clinging to; this person that I had been so convinced was Jesus....wasn't.

This was not a nail pierced hand, it was something else.

Someone else.

Someone who, even now , is physically fleeting and unmemorable, but did have one thing that sticks in my memory, which was the shirt he was wearing. White with big block letters that read, "I Mean The World To You." And I felt sick to my stomach.

I had been so fooled. I had been so wrong!

How could I have thought that this was Jesus guiding me? How could I have believed so thoroughly that it was Him? Why had I not discerned that it might not be? How?

And then I looked at the words on his shirt again, the daunting and horribly blunt words, "I Mean The World To You," and realized why it had been so easy. Why I had been fooled.

It was because I had foolishly believed that I could tell. That I could just know without asking and that there really was no point to asking, because I knew. Or at least, I thought I did. I trusted...in an assumption. The assumption that I knew God's plan in anyway, and why?

I'll tell you why.

Because that assumption and everything that I came to believe and trust in through it. Meant the world to me.

Maybe it even meant more.

So, as I realized this, I looked at the hand that I had been clinging so vehemently to and studied it, squinting as my eyes still tried to adjust to the lack of darkness. I was remembering the warmth and the comfort it brought me. Remembering that it hadn't ever done anything wrong and it could have led me to the wall and to the switch...but no.

I had to stop being foolish. I had to stop assuming and instead, go and find God for myself so that I could cling to Him and find all my answers in Him. I had to do it and do it fast...or else someone might just switch the light off, and I couldn't go back to the dark.

I just couldn't.

So, hesitantly and painfully I tried to pull my hand away. Finding it difficult as this person clung to my hand to. "Please just let go!" I said, tugging my hand away but failing miserably as he seemed to adamantly refuse. "LET GO! WHY WON'T YOU JUST LET GO?" But he held on, looking at me blankly. Almost as if there really was no strain on him.

Finally his eyes met mine and asked in a strange and calm sort of way, "Do you want me to let go?"

I looked at him as if he was crazy and nodded, "Of course! Yes! I want you to let go!"

"Okay," He said calmly again, "Well I will, when you do. I'll let go of you, when you let go of me."

And he left it at that. Watching me; gauging my reaction as I ran through his words in my head.

'I'll let go of you, when you let go of me.'

'I will, when you do.'

And then I loosened my grip, finding that as I did this so did he and our hands slipped apart, freeing me from the confines of his hold.

Had I really not been doing that before? Was it really that simple?

But I didn't want to wait around and ask, so I backed away from him slowly, wondering if he would follow me as I leaned up against the wall where the switch was and began to shimmy away. He only watched me as I went, made no move until I was meters away, a good distance to run and get away if he chose to try and capture me again. But then he did the strangest thing. He walked over to the light switch, smiled at me and waved before reaching over and flipping it.

I jumped, thinking that the lights would go off, but no. They didn't. And instead he disappeared with a pop, as if, when he flipped the switch, he went off instead of the lights.

My head was spinning from the sheer audacity of the whole situation and I closed my eyes to try and steady my thoughts, it all was just so much to take in. But with a sigh I turned away from where he had been and took a look at the expanse in front of me. Smiling slightly as it all was clear, my eyes adjusted. In the distance I could make out something, a large sign that read, "Got questions? I've Got answers." And laughed shaking my head as I realized that there was no clearer sign than that. That was where I had to go, and though it was long way from where I was, at least there was nothing to weigh me down.

Before heading out I took a glance behind me, wondering if that guy with the shirt was back and waiting to follow me. But he wasn't; he was gone and I was left alone again, in the light this time, with the whole beautiful world in view.

And with a sigh I looked ahead, taking the first few steps toward answers.

Mama's Day...

I honestly think that because I've spent the majority of my life listening to music and trying to pick out vocal parts I find it very easy to identify voices. So I shouldn't be surprised that people's voices are very easy to remember. It's always been a blessing; very helpful in every musical aspect...

But it also...never ceases to hit me at randomly horrible times as well.

Take today for instance: we went to Forest Lawn and, at first, it was fantastic. Being with the family, enjoying a celebration of Mothers. But it was as I was walking to the car and thinking back to last mother's day that her voice came back.

My Tita Joyce.

I don't remember much of what happened last year, but it just came as a very weary, "Thank you." With a giggle. Her giggle. And it suddenly was hard to breathe. I find it happening a lot lately too. The other day I was on yahoo games randomly and found myself playing Bookworm. I could just hear telling me about it. She was the one that introduced me to it and I can just hear her, "Aarika it's a good game! It helps you practice your words."

Wow. That was such a long time ago.

I miss her so much. At times more so than others. But, even still, it's in those moments that I wish I could just forget.

It's a bittersweet and painful.

overwhelming and debilitating.

And then there are those moments when I'm with my family...singing and I swear I can hear her voice. Her alto ringing out and helping me find the part and I just have to accept it, because I would rather remember wishing to forget than to have forgotten and be desperate to remember.

poetry corner.

It's easy to rhyme.

You see, any idiot can take june and moon
While describing in detail the flowers that bloom
And even part ways with, "I'll see you soon,"
Maybe end with a line about hearts in tune.

But in all honesty

it doesn't do much

when you're able to rhyme but not able to touch

the soul of a person who's looking for truth

for answers; for clarity; or for poetry "in sooth"

so you see it's fairly to sit down and rhyme

to dictate a few words and take down a line

it's as easy as convincing the world you are fine

But sadly the truth is--

There's no progression over time.

How Corrupt Do We Have To Get?

Genesis 6:5-7 says

(5) Then the LORD saw that the wickedness of man was great on the earth and that every intent of the thoughts of his heart was evil continually. (6) The LORD was sorry that He had made men on the earth and He was grieved in His heart. (7) The LORD said, "I will blot out man whom I have created from the face of the land, from man to animals to creeping things and to birds of the sky; for I am sorry that I have made them."

And all I keep thinking is how wicked are we going to let ourselves become before God decides that He is sorry he created us? We are in danger. And are teetering on the edge of moral corruption because we have moved from being a God based country to a "politically correct" capitalist democracy. This has become a nation where writing "In God we trust" on our money is now considered to be the subliminal enforcement of religious beliefs, but the lacing of the media with sexual innuendos is not considered as subliminal secular conditioning of our society. Or at least, the latter is more acceptable than the previous.

Where is the line going to be drawn?

Now, some people might say, "Maybe the reason why God hasn't chosen to blot us out is because we aren't that bad. But who are we kidding? That is a fallacy; an argument of ignorance to give in to such reasoning and it even says in the Bible, Matthew 24:38-39

(38) For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; (39) and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man.

Now, Noah was found righteous in the eyes of God, he found favor with God. But the question remains...when God comes to judge us...are you going to be in the ark? Or are you going to be partying outside when the flood comes?