![]() |
Name: Victoria My mind will never be at peace. A THOUSAND WORDS, and maybe a couple more. Excerpts of my restless mind. Join me in my constant acceptance of all things happy. |
(Source: fuckyeahbeyonceminaj, via badgalfashion)
(Source: gaws, via kaisoulquest)
Happy Birthday, Boo.
(Source: luxelif-e, via viviannners)
Pardon me, I’m about to sound like I’m a Grandma, but here goes.
It’s pretty late, and I’m in bed, my smartphone right next to me, alarm set for 7:50AM tomorrow. Besides an alarm, readily accessible are Twitter. Instagram. Facebook. Snapchat, and I would be a liar if I told you I don’t use those apps at least a dozen times a day— and even saying so would be such an understatement, considering there are moments when I check my “notifications” twice in 5 minutes.
The perks of these social/media networks are that you’re constantly updated on the latest happenings. You know everything— what’s going on in politics, in celebrity life, campus life, conversations between friends. On top of that— text messages are sent back and forth to and from your phone throughout the entire day. And though it’s all very convenient, and you don’t need to do much but check your mobile to see where someone is at a certain time.. I’m starting to realize how much I miss not knowing. After all, a little mystery always keeps life interesting.
I miss long conversations on the phone, when you can hear someone’s voice, their tone, their laugh. And I’m trying to figure out how receiving “hey what are you doing” text messages throughout the day is better than that. I miss meeting up with someone at a certain time and place, without the “are you there yet?”s and the “where are you now?”s popping up on your screen and constant status updates on how long it’s going to take someone to arrive.
Everything’s just too easy now, and I wish it wasn’t because I’ve almost forgotten how to live. I feel so consumed in these networks, so attached to my phone that I feel the need to have it with me at all times in order to stay connected with everyone. That is so unfortunate. I miss living life a little more genuinely. I miss allowing myself to enjoy the world and people around me— without the need to use a computer or phone to do so. <br/>
It’s Time to Resurrect.
It’s Junior Year. When I take a close look at individuals I’ve met at the start of my college career, I am slightly thrown back by how much older they look in comparison to the first moment I’ve shared a glance with them. Ladies with Their preference of blouses over tanks and heels over flats and sandals, and Fellas who have traded in their sneakers for boat shoes, graphic tees for Henleys and button downs. But beyond physical appearances, perhaps it is the burden behind all that, that caught my attention the most. The increasing amount of stress, that only continues to worsen with age (lol). There are a lot of great things that come with experience, but I cannot tell you enough how much it saddens me to realize the simple fact that we are all getting older— and further and further away from our childhood.
Ever thought of why a throwback song gets you in a giddy mood, or a comfortable scent instantly reminds you of a worry-free time?
They say ignorance is bliss, and I believe the simplicity of life as a child is greatly rooted in such a saying. Besides not being aware, and besides not fully understanding the world and all of its corruption, its vices, its tainted motives, a child knows not yet how to act poorly.
It has crossed my mind that maybe life would be much easier, if i thought like a child.
Because someone who thinks like a child, who is overall untainted, purely good, wide-eyed, fun-loving, worry-free, is never the type to think poorly about others— and is never the type to imagine others inflicting harm upon him or her. The level of trust is infinite.
The great picture here is: If you, yourself, have never thought of inflicting pain, doing a malicious deed. If you, yourself, have never created a reason for others to mistrust you… then your mind, being unaware of such things, will probably not be so watchful of others mistakes.
Your subconscious knows. It knows to the core of all your unnecessary worries.
I’ll give you a few simple examples.
Think about how many times you stress about your appearance, … and then think about how many times you have spoken poorly about others in regards to theirs.
We are constantly conscious of how others will perceive us,… maybe because we spend a good amount of time talking poorly about what other people’s flaws are.
Think about how many times you develop a sense of mistrust in a significant other,… and then think about how many times you’ve snooped, how many times you’ve perhaps haven’t been the most faithful, even with little “harmless” actions.
You know, if you never did any wrong, it would never cross your mind that others will do wrong towards you. And many of the problems we have today in regards to relationships with other people has to do with a lack of trust.
So surround yourself with the good, the wholesome, the care-free, and allow yourself to be that for others. You are a reflection of your company, and they are yours.
PAAAYYYYCEE, Brodie-lang.
SimpleMomentsofBliss:
Paying in exact change.
The Alarm Rings. You slap Snooze. Another Day. Another Day. Another Day. You Groan as you complete the same morning routines. Same Bus Route. Same Car Ride. Same Bike Circle. The passion-lacking walk to class or work; you drag your feet along with the ever so monotonous scuffling of others’ around you. The words cross through your mind, you don’t remember the last time you were actually completely Happy, filled with Bliss. Nothing’s wrong. & That’s not the problem. The problem is that nothing’s extraordinary.
Happiness, I’ve come to learn, is all about perspective. The best thing that might happen to a girl is getting that mercedes benz she’s wanted in the color she wanted on her sixteenth birthday. Whereas the best thing that might happen to another at the age of sixteen is finding out that he or she is finally going to have food, not on the table, but on the cardboard mat his or her family eats on when they’re so lucky enough to have food.
It’s unfortunate that individuals must go through awful events just to obtain the realization of the more beautiful things in life— things that are free. things that last.
And believe me, I get it. I’d be a hypocrite if I claimed to have never yearned for a materialistic thing in my life. But think of it like this, That shirt. Those Shoes. That Car. That Bigger House… You want it. You really want it. You can imagine all those events to wear that shirt/shoe to. The comfortable leather seats and the 0 to 60 in 3.5 speed it has to offer. The luxurious space to come home to everyday. But those things, as happy as it makes you feel instantly (maybe even for a couple of weeks), after the excitement’s faded, will become yet again, a part of your daily norm. After you press snooze a couple of times.. It’ll be the shirt you just quickly grab to put on, the shoes you’ve worn a dozen times to class, the car you quickly hop in as a means of transportation to rush to work, and the house you come home to yet again, after another monotonous day… dragging your feet to the kitchen to find something to eat.
So when you go through your day, before you’re tempted to say “Same Shit, Different Day..” Take a step back, don’t allow it to be. Admire the season-changing trees, the bright blue sky, the warmth of the sun on your skin. Check out the squirrels and birds, laugh at their sense of character. Appreciate the “Bless You’s” you receive when you sneeze. Say Whaddupp and make conversation to the other person in the elevator or someone at the same bus stop. Be that “difference” in someone else’s day.. let them be yours.
Wake up and start living. Life is so beautiful, you just have to make it worth it to yourself to be too.
Yours Truly,
V.Cao.
I know it’s in 3 months but Where my presents at yo. I’m just kidding. It’s the end of the summer, and aside from the day you travel the globe in one night, in about 3 months… my birthday’s coming up. Nineteen. And okay okay, maybe it’s not that old.. but to me? it’s the longest I’ve ever lived. It’s my last year as a ‘teen.’ And I can’t help but think about what I’ve accomplished so far. You’d probably notice already but.. my wishes change yeah? From the wish of a new toy… like that cute electronic digital pet you gave me.. that lived inside a keychain thing.. and i had to shake it or whatnot. i never did wish for a pony. But anyways, I always thought it was kinda cool how you could fix your handwriting to be like every parent on the planet. Then after awhile.. as I got older, I didn’t get presents from you anymore?… But I always kind of thought it was because I started wishing for Momma to not have cancer anymore. My wishes changed, and my mindset and perspective changed with it. Suddenly the dream of becoming a business woman who’s able to dress up in cute outfits everyday to work became the dream of wearing a lab coat, pursuing a health career, very possibly oncology. My fears? Giving up on my studies, not being able to make it far enough… and if I make it far enough, becoming numb, unable to help people, un-phased by the lost of my patients. But despite these fears, I think about Momma. I think about how numb my mind was, how I thought about everything, but at the same time I couldn’t even think. How my world spun so quickly, and how I just wanted it to pause. How I saved the shampoo I used when she was still here. How I inhale the scent of her robe from time to time… How it took awhile for me to actually change the pair of contact lenses because it was hard for me to let go of all the things I still have when she was still breathing. How I go through life, breathing.. but pretending that it didn’t happen… and then I think about how I NEVER want anyone to feel that way… or anyone to have to go through what she did. And I want to.. I want so badly to be a doctor.. So Badly. so that a child won’t have to grow up wishing to you, Santa, that her mother gets better. so that a mother could live to see her only daughter graduate from high school. and so after years and years, I can see my patient and say, ”How are you my long but not lost friend?” So this Christmas, Santa, All I can ask is for the strength, determination, and will-power to get through this. Please. Please don’t allow me to give up. Love, Victoria Cao ____________________________________________________ Written Last year around September. [I recently realized there was something wrong with the url of this post, tried to edit it, and ended up losing it. Luckily, I was able to find it on Bing. I’m glad this all happened though, i’ve sort of lost my way my first year at a university. Reading it again reminded me once more of what I want to do with my life, and what I must do to get there. Thank you Mom.. and Santa.]
They say you only use a portion of your entire brain. Your mind.
Wednesday Night. (Or should I say Thursday Morning.) It was 2AM. My eyes were slightly tired, but of course as a 19 year old at this day and age, I was on Facebook. Browsing. Not really looking for anything. And not really expecting anything. But I stumbled upon a Link that led me to a YouTube video. I sat and stared at the freeze-frame, and mindlessly clicked play.
Remember that BP oil spill? Well this video was a self-recording of a woman who was a part of the clean up crew. Her face filled most of the screen, and I noticed a twitch on the left side of her face. She spoke and began to sob, explaining that she’s in physical and emotional pain due to the exposure of chemicals cleaning up the spill. She cried for help, wiping the tears away from her face, but she couldn’t feel the drops on her left cheek. As the video came to an end, I sat there, and stared, unable to blink. Emotions erupted inside of me, and I felt a pang in my chest. Sadness. Compassion. Anger.
Frustrated, I sat alone, and I thought hard. A dozen of images and memories ran through my mind. Man-kind made me sick. And I would be a hypocrite if I said I was an exception to the way we behave. We are so selfish. We cheat, we lie, we harm others. And for what? Because it’s convenient to do so. Because it’s easier. Because we don’t think twice. And when we do good deeds, we do so when it’s convenient. Take community service. Why do you do it? “Because I get an award at the end of the year for doing 100+ hours.” “Because it will look good as volunteer experience on my resume.” And it breaks me, it gnaws at my mind— because it’s not going to end. It is as if everything an individual does, has a motive, that eventually leads to an attempt in self-fulfillment. We are raised by society with reward and punishment. You arrive on time to work or you’ll lose your job. You do extra work in hopes of getting promoted. It’s as if reward and punishment is the only way to learn. But maybe we believe so because that’s the only way we’ve been taught, and we can’t even imagine how it would be like if we were trained to do good things subconsciously, with no intent. Our world praises people for doing the right thing. Though, it’s awfully great that we don’t praise them for doing the wrong thing, shouldn’t individuals do what’s right anyways— just because? Sometimes I feel as though we don’t deserve to be human. It’s so beautiful, but we can be so corrupted. And I’m contradicting myself. I contradict myself all the time, but we live in such a contradicting world. We abuse and take advantage of our powers. Yet when we make mistakes, we use the excuse, “We’re ONLY human.”
The mind is a terrible thing to waste.
Gets me everytime.
“And when I opened my eyes I found myself standing before a mirror
Staring into the eyes of an invisible man until my pupils became pupils
And I could teach myself to live a better life.”
Thought I’d share with you my newly created tumblr, solely for the purpose of fun, and not seriousness/thoughtful like this one. Just decided, sometimes, I’d like to share how my days are with you!
Here’s the Link! Follow Both <3
http://sohowstheweather.tumblr.com/
Casual, Sunny, Warm, Cold, Heated. Schwatevs.
This black friday, I looked at shoes.
They were striped. black and white. worn with white socks. Her cold and worn out feet shuffled towards us in the parking lot of the Great Mall. “Can I have a minute of your time?”
“Sure”, we thought… slightly skeptical. She showed us her ID. ‘Said she showed it to the Chinese restaurant nearby, hoping that they would allow her to make what was leftover— what others didn’t want—a meal. Her attempts to get supper failed when they sent her away. She emptied her pockets, revealing loose change. Pennies, and not even enough to call a handful.
The night air was cold. She led me to the outside McDonald’s where her ten year old daughter was. They hadn’t eaten for 2 days. We changed direction and walked inside the mall towards Auntie Anne’s Pretzels; ‘told me she had never tried one before. We were in line, and Whenever I looked at her, she’d smile one of the most genuine smiles I have seen in awhile. But behind that smile… there was this weary look. It was a look of relief but there was also something else… I could tell she was already worried about where to get her next meal, how she was going to make sure her daughter was okay. She then explained to me that she had come from Hayward, 35 minutes driving, I wonder how she got here to Milpitas. She’s been looking for a shelter, all the ones she’s been to are full. “so yeah… now we’re homeless…” Her eyes looked tired, but they caught a sight and she pointed. It was a pizza flavored pretzel, with pepperoni and cheese. She said “My daughter loves pizza.”
At this point my Dad had walked in and suggested we go to the food court to get ‘real’ pizza. She eagerly says, “okay!” as I walked with her to the food court. I learned her name was Lorenda. Lorenda, I’ll remember that. 2 pepperoni pizzas, a large coke, and a salad “if that’s okay?…” she asked, then giving my dad and I a warm hug.
“oh thank you very much..” she kept saying.
Thanks for what?… for dinner?… of 2 pizzas — a food I always tend to waste when my buddies and I buy a box. Thanks for what, Lorenda?… for finally spending my money on filling your 2 day empty stomach rather than on what I want to wear for an occasion? Thanks for that, Lorenda… because for the first moment in awhile, I thought about what you needed instead of what I wanted. And if for any moment you feel ashamed, Lorenda, with that weary look in your eyes… with that ‘defeat’ of nowhere to stay. No no, Lorenda. I’m ashamed. For ever thinking that my petty, ‘what do i wear for this… or oh my gosh, i don’t have a date to this… or I NEED new heels cause I have nothing to match with….’ is ever comparable to what you and your daughter have to go through.
And though I never will understand it all because I have only taken a glance at the shoes. yet to have placed my own two feet into those socks, those black and white striped flats,… and travel what is 35 minutes on car.. without a car…, the lesson won’t ever go unremembered or unappreciated.
& Lorenda? Yeah, I told myself I’d remember that. You and you’re daughter are in my prayers. “if that’s okay…?”
Happy Thanksgiving, Lorenda.
This black friday, I looked at shoes.