A Bit of Redundancy. And then some..

How do I describe where I stand..

After much contemplation, I’ve reached the verdict that I remain at the point of confusion and lingering. Although I know (hopefully) that this is all temporary, I can’t help but continue to be baffled by how much it vexes me still.


It would seem appropriate that after all the things I’ve been through, I’d be, as most people would deem, “over it,” and for the most part, I can say that I am. I’ve only seen you a few times over summer, but I try not to let that be so bothersome. While you’re there eating your 3rd round of dinner, I dance around, laughing because I’m having fun, and why should I let your presence annoy me? I just choose to wear my mask of civility, to hide my jaunting attitude and bitterness. So I’m fine. I’ve gone through the course about 3 months, hanging out with other people and doing fairly interesting things, like zip lining through redwood trees and visiting historical places, so things should be okay, right?

Well I guess it’s not as okay as I would’ve liked.

Every time a certain song plays, it brings back memories, and I wonder about how fantastic it would be if we both matured and realized our mistakes and decided to try things out again. And even without the taunting beckoning of oldies and classical music alike, I find myself thinking of you in the moments of silence where I’m trying determinedly to think of another subject. Moreover, your face continues to appear in my dreams as I sleep. The simplest things always get to me.

But thankfully, such instances have started to dwindle down.

I do still reminisce of the past and I still look for a possibility in the future but, with each day, such trivia decreases. I’ve come to realize that I’ve been able to jump back from my small, random lapses of sadness more quickly now, so I guess one could say I’ve been making progress. And one could say that progress is very good, right?

Wrong. Again.

Well, not entirely wrong. Despite the greatness of finally starting to “move on” from the person that seems to have been on my mind the most, other thoughts have been flowing in, a discomfort most galling to me. So why do I find this to be so disturbing? It’s because such ideas seem so strange, farfetched, more outlandish and weird than previous ones. In a way, they are a visit from the past, but a little more “grown up” this time.

Yet, I feel as if this is also nothing.

Perhaps it is me overanalyzing as I always do and perhaps it is also others overanalyzing, therefore causing me to freak out more than I should have to. How disquieting it is, having to deal with the antics of such teasing.. It puts me over the edge, and I question why it peeves me so. Is it because I care? And if so, why do I care? I mean.. It’s natural to feel SOME solicitude, but this? Jealousy.. Concern.. Could it be something else? Is it possible that there is something persisting in my subconscious that is just prying to emerge? Some sort of feelings..? Are people seeing a connection that we cannot? Just why are things suddenly becoming more intense?! Ecch. I never thought that things would happen like this.. It would be quite nice to not feel so damn awkward all the time.

And that, my friends, is my new dilemma.


Late Start.

I realize that introductions are in order, but I haven’t exactly succeeded in doing so, since I found myself caught up in creating this blog in the first place, and I ended up submerging myself entirely with a rant about my struggles.

But now I’m slightly off tangent.

So allow me to introduce myself. I’ll give you a heads up; this may not be the most conventional of beginnings, and will perhaps be rather scatterbrained. But then again, random beginnings IS the URL of this blog and probably an indicator of my nature.

If you read my “About Me” page, you would find my name and simple things I’ve pointed out about my character. But of course, I would not have taken all the time in the world to explain EVERYTHING about my life in that single page, which brings me to the reason that I have created this blog: to express myself to whoever is interested in getting to know me and, of course, to provide my own path for expression as I step nervously, yet willingly into the world of adulthood. I’ve had a brush with blogging before; like with most teenagers, I partook in the Tumblr scene, but seeing as I’m entering a new chapter in my life, it seemed necessary to accommodate myself with something much more sophisticated, which I found via WordPress. I admit that I’ll keep my Tumblr for memories and inspiration, but for the most part, I’ve moved on from that phase.

But I digress. I’ve always loved writing, even when I was a small child. Some of my earliest recollections date back to the 2nd grade, and maybe even kindergarten. So to this day, I continue my passion for writing, and amidst my busy future as a doctor or a research biologist, I hope to be the author of a best selling book one day. To me, writing has always been a great form of art. If you were to look through some of my belongings, you would probably find loose scraps of paper with simple rhymes and rants about my perspective on life, whether it be about music, or about an actual situation I was dealing with. I don’t know. There’s just something about eloquent vocabulary on a piece of paper or on a computer screen that brings me joy.

So I guess I am imparting that, through blogging, I hope to bring that joy to others. But for now, I’m content with mine own. I would tell you that not all my posts will be happy, but you probably already know that. I realize that this post has become more about my writing, rather than about, for lack of better terms, “my general persona,” which, I guess, in itself, says something anyways. For now, I’ll tell you that you’re getting a look at the complex mind of a young adult who’s curious about the life ahead of her and continually searching for her sole purpose.

From this, I can say that it won’t always be pretty. But it WILL be interesting.




Lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder.

This word seems that this definition seems to be the subconscious mindset of many who are going off to college soon, including yours truly.

Spiritual Warfare: No. 1

Be warned. I’m probably going to come up as “stupid” because it’s like, “Allex. What are you doing, still putting yourself through this bull honky?” Truthfully, I have no clue. I think if I DID know, it probably would’ve stopped.

So for now, excuse my, err.. “rant.”


It seems to me that temptation always creeps around the corner when I come to think about the situation that I’ve endured for over a year. With the intensity and events of years past, it seems prolonged, and therefore, I don’t equate it to a year. But that is besides the point. This is probably one of the things that gets me the most. Riles me up the most. Throws me off the most. Whenever I’m finally content with life and I feel as if I’m getting on the right track, ‘he’ always finds his way into my mind. The friendship. The relationship. And in general, the memories.

So, what’s wrong with that? Why is it spiritual warfare, as I call it?

Because: I am a warrior for God. And as corny as that sounds, and as many times as I’ve tried pushing that away, I can’t. It’s inevitable that being a fighter is part of me, and now that another battle is nearing, I can’t have this distraction eating at me constantly. Every now and then, I reminisce on how “good” things were and how “happy” I was, but then I transition to thinking about how deranged the whole thing was and I become so angry just thinking about it again and it scares me. I continue to hold grudges and spew words of hate under my breath and I continue to be jealous or bitter over asinine things that I shouldn’t even mull over because it’s just plain foolishness.

And I know that. I’ve been told that a countless number of times and I’m pretty sure I’ve even told myself that. But nope; my caring nature tells me otherwise, and I continue to dwell on whatever has happened. And it sucks because as I try to pray and ask for guidance, a random image of “that last kiss goodnight” or holding hands on a numbing day in February or silly, childish coquette pops into my head and I’m seized from my state of spirituality to find myself wondering how things could’ve been. I tell myself it wasn’t even anything, really. But then I miss it all over again. And then I question it all over again. And then I try to figure it out again. And soon, I hate it all over again.

Lies. Filth. Deceit. Excuses. Cowardice. Inconsideration. So irresolute. So stubborn. So … UGH. The abhorrence consumes me; this twisted “hate” I have for a single person, and I ask … “Why?”

But if course I know. The “Man Downstairs” is trying to reach me, in attempt to take me away from all I have come to believe in. He tries to tell me that this hate should always live inside me, because I DESERVE to be mad. And at times, I feel like he’s right because I have so many questions left unanswered.

But then again, that’s just how things are.

So.. Spiritual warfare.

I will continue to fight this battle, as the struggle to love one’s neighbor is a struggle at its finest. Even though it’s particularly difficult for me to let go, I have to try to forgive, simply because that’s what I’m called to do and simply because I know that will be my source of peace.

But for now, as derisory as it seems, this is probably one of the biggest things I struggle to overcome.

However, I’ll get there. Eventually.