Regarding the CT Tragedy

There are so many people who are saying that "I give my hearts out to those who have lost their loved ones" blah blah blah... and I guess it's my turn to say that, too.
We're all so horrified and saddened by this heartless tragedy that I never imagined could happen. (Though so many people are saying "my heart goes out"... maybe it's the right term that you're supposed to use? Anyhow, it's actually the first time I've heard that phrase..)
I feel terrible that so many people are resorting to violence to express themselves,  as if they have no other way that people would understand. I feel bad for the man who killed so many people, for the people who were killed, and for the kids who survived.
And this goes along with the theme of depressing books we're reading in school these days--we actually recently read by William Golding (sorry unable to use underline or italics right now). Imean--I feel bad for the kids who had to go to heaven so early in their life, but I also feel bad for the kids who are still alive. They had to go through that hell, just like everyone else in the school--and then survive to have that memory with you for the rest of your life. In that day, their whole lives were changed. Can you imagine--being a seven year old, with yet to learn, cherish, and laugh in this world--can you imagine being seven and seeing your friend bleed to death? Can you imagine realizing that your best friend, whom you were planning to invite to your birthday party--was now a lifeless body among so many others? What kind of impact would that make on their minds? What kind of impact would that make on history? 
It makes me so angry that someone would go as far as to trespass into a school--an ELEMENTARY school--to recklessly shoot and kill. And not only that, ruin a bit of history by denting so many young minds who could have changed the world. Who could have lived a perfectly happy life, with no dark shadows engufing their minds. 
Everything's for a reason, I think, and I don't think that the man went to the elementary school just because he wanted to, or just because his mother (mother, was it?) was a teacher there. There obviously must be some sort of grudge in his past that lead him to acting this way. But whatever it is, I'm becoming more and more disgusted with humanity these days. 
What's with all these shootings? What's with the violence? 

And some people keep changing the subject back to gun control. And yes, I have my opinions on that. But putting gun control aside, what's been making so many people /use/ that gun so much these days as opposed to, say, ten years ago? I grieve for not only the lives that could have been lived, but the lives that could have been lived freely, and the life that could have been happier.

Still Alive, yep.

Thought I’d died? (which is probably similar to a lot of first-lines in my posts xD)
It’s okay, you can save my eulogy into your My Documents folder and save it for later. Password lock it, my suggestion. I think Word has those options.
I did that once (only to forget the super complicated password).

So anyhow, I have this super over-due request to draw Bebe and her glameow from Pokemon.
Plus I have a few other stuff to do that isn’t really drawing-based or hobbyistic, if that’s a word (prolly not because it has the red squiggly line under it).

So how’s high school, you ask?
It’s okay, it’s interesting. I guess. It’s actually really fun—I’m really enjoying it, you know. The classes really intrigue me and I always have a thirst for knowledge now--
naw I’m lying.
It’s school. What can you expect.

But it’s nice to have a really interesting art class at the end of the day. My table, consisting of three people excluding me, is quite an interesting group. Two juniors and a sophomore. (And me.) It’s interesting how the chemistry of this combination works out. Never realized how strange you become when you go to high school.
Half the time they’re insulting each other, the other half they’re coming up with new insults and sarcastic remarks. No kidding, but it really makes my day interesting. It’s really amusing watching them, you know. We have a name for each other, too. Really random, actually. Supposedly I’m Chives. Who knows why. But it’s really a strange yet interesting experience, sitting at that art table. People around us prolly think we’re strange in the head, though. xD The sophomore once somehow ended an insult-session by using “land mammal” as a derogatory term. Ended mostly because of the bafflement, the excessive laughter, and the confusion between the rest of us, actually.
Plus painting is fun. It’s nice. We’re painting ink bottles sitting on a mirror. Shading with the monochromatic scale, that is.
Yes, I’m healthy and well, you can save the eulogy onto My Documents. Don’t email it to me—I haven’t even written a will yet.
Nothing much to pass down, anyhow (besides the thousands of dollars—what. what. You didn’t read that. What thousands of dollars? Noo, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Nope. Nope, it’s not in the bank, no, no, really, no. I don’t have money. Don’t ask me for money. I’m broke.).
…
I’ll just classify that as a minor fart at the back of the brain while it was still (mal)functioning.


:D BYE!

Happeh Thanksgiving. Lemme teach yer how to read a book.

…yeah. So this Thanksgiving, my cousins (fam-friends, akshully) and I decided to make a video. We actually sort of evolved into it, because of the usual excuse—boredom.

But anyhow.

At first, N started making tutorials on random stuff using my oovoo recorder thing (after getting cut off every five minutes she got pretty frustrated, which was really entertaining on my part). C came late, because she was at her actual family’s Thanksgiving dinner (but for me and N, our fam’s in Korea or somewhere far from home).

We then decided to make videos together.

And then I took a shower, which is random. She tried videotaping the bathroom while I was showering (don’t worry, blind-thingies closed), but just then, C came. So N just deleted that in a frantic hurry. xD

And then us three together, in my room, cooped up in boredom-land, we decided to just randomly make a how to video on “How to Read a World History Book”, which was the only textbook lying around near us.

So there the adventure started.

Here’s the result:

 

Yeah.

Kaythanksbye.

 

OOOH yeah btw I ate lots of Costco turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and all the good stuff. :3

The Best Moment

This morning, I woke up at six o clock, thinking we had to go to school today. I got myself mentally prepared for going to school by six o five, got up and started pondering over whether I'd be late or not if I slept until six ten, and then decided to just get ready because I'd be sleepy during school anyhow.
Then, I opened the door, doing the usual ninja tip-toe walk, rushed back inside when I heard my brother murmur things in his sleep, and then poked my head back outside. I took a deep breath and managed to go downstairs when I suddenly felt something was astray.
...It was Saturday.

I felt a surging feeling of happiness and I dashed upstairs, careless of whether my parents would wake up or not, and dove right into bed thinking of the many more hours of sleep I’d get. It was the best feeling in the world. Curling up in that bed—doing just what I wished to do on real school days. It made me smile smugly (even though there was nobody around), and I felt like this was a priceless moment.

I dozed off to a few more hours of beautiful, soothing sleep.

 

Ahhh. Ode to sleep.

(That wasn’t an ode to sleep, I was just saying “Ode to Sleep,” nothing much to do with the actual content of the post, by the way.)

:3 True story, though.

For the Good of Mankind

I feel so accomplished and like a new person. I have made someone’s day brighter. I think. But all the same, it feels so warmly good to know that someone will be happy because of me, and that they shall continue pursuing their dream because of me. I haven’t really done much, but it’s a lot to others.

You see, I remember in around fifth grade when, on Valentine’s Day, the teacher made us each write a compliment to each of our classmates and then put it in their little “mailbox” on their desks. When I got my twenty four compliments (let’s just assume I had 24 other kids in my class), reading through them, I felt this swelling feeling of happiness. They weren’t even so sincere, and they were just simple compliments, yet it made me feel so,,, worthy of being here, and so belonging. It was, whaddaya call it, the opposite of lonely.

And in sixth grade, we had to present something, and the teacher had made us write a “critique” of every person’s presentation and give it to them so that they could improve next time. Well, being the little children we were, we all wrote compliments, except for the occasional, “louder voice,” or “eye contact.” But reading through it, with critiques and encouragements, I felt that I belonged in that classroom again, like life was worth it. (Which it is.)

So when I was on deviantart, and I saw that today was someone’s birthday, I decided to spread that happiness, and I went to their page and commented on their page and wished them a happy birthday. But I knew that just writing Happy Birthday wouldn’t mean much—I mean, tons of other people wrote that, too. I wanted them to know how good they were at drawing, how much I admired their drawing skill, and how I feel about their drawings. so I did. I wrote about four sentences, just telling them and complimenting them on their art.

A day later, they commented back, saying that it really made their day, and they thanked me for it. I mean, when I first read that, I thought of back in sixth grade, when I was reading through the critiques from my peers, when I felt that swelling happiness. And knowing (or at least, I think I know) that someone else had that same feeling—made my day in turn.

And who knows, maybe I encouraged them to continue drawing and maybe they’ll become the next Picasso.

…I don’t know about that.

But anyhow, I feel like I’ve done a great deed.

Who knew complimenting someone would make you feel so good? (: