A year ago today I started my blog. This is my 52nd post, one for every week of the year. My first post was “‘Merica Day” and this is my most recent post, though before this one it was “Baby Fever.” Looking at where I started this blog and where I am now is alarming, but in a good way. A year ago was during a time I loathed myself and many people around me, and it’s when I started to get over it. I’ve posted so many different kinds of stuff on this blog, and even if some of them aren’t popular or others are, no matter how many subscribers I have or likes or comments I get, this is something I can be proud of. For those who don’t blog, it’s tough to blog continuously. There have been days where I have three or four posts buzzing around in my head and entire months where I’ll be lucky to get one good idea. This website has an option that provides me with almost every statistic I can want. I can check exactly how many posts I’ve posted, when they were posted, how many views each one got, how many views per month, the countries people are viewing from (I think it’s been viewed in 12 countries, maybe more), the whole shabang. I know I posted one post in June. Yet in July I posted five, in December I posted five, and this one will be the second of February I think. Maybe the first. The point of the matter is that this is my 52nd post, and I’m standing on the other side of an entire year of postings.

I’ve talked about myself. A lot. Sorry everyone, but people are generally pretty egocentric. Beyond pure selfishness, this blog has been a major coping mechanism for me. When I have something I’m dying to say, I have an outlet where I can go to and let anyone read it. Anyone who wants to read it can, which makes me more certain that they read the whole thing and care about what I have to say. I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. My mind is very active and is always whirring around no matter what situation I’m in. It might sound like a blessing, but it can frequently be a curse. I’m not the only one who deals with this either. But I cannot focus on one thing for very long without breaking off of it and needing to do something else. Sitting still or not having some part of my brain active makes me very uncomfortable. And yet, sometimes I have to be still when my mind is most active. I can’t handle the dozens of thoughts in my own head, so I have to release them in the form of words, either written or spoken (or sung if I’m by myself in the shower šŸ˜‰ ). That’s how I work. An example I remember is while praying last week I felt my dramatically shortened hair and about a minute later I was thinking about the five different methods of physical torture: sharp, blunt, hot, cold, and loud. If you really want to know that train of thought, ask me separately. The point of all that is to say my mind is always working even when I don’t want it to. So I have to put that stuff somewhere, and this blog is one of those places.

This blog has hopefully been inspiring to some. I know I’ve found inspiration for myself by writing this. Writing something meaningful and inspirational affects me and brightens my mood sometimes. I’ve written about how to keep going even when you think you can’t go on. I’ve posted fairly political posts regarding school systems and gender roles and racial discrimination, which is something I still need to explicitly do beyond my “Double Standards: Black and White” post. I’ve done personal quirky things like “My Dream Wedding” or “Oddball” or “Music to My Ears.” I’ve covered really heavy stuff for me like in “My Struggles with Depression” or “Alien.” I really have covered a very wide array of topics, and I’ve received nothing but support from people. At least the only stuff that actually gets voiced is support.

This blog has gone beyond all of that for me and I hope for those who read it. It’s grown me and opened my eyes to the world a little bit more with each post. A year ago I was alone and bitter desperately searching for a way out. I didn’t know God or people, I didn’t know myself. To some extent I still don’t know all of those things, but my grasp is a lot stronger. I’ve built friendships that feel like they’ll stand the test of time, and I will do my part to make that happen. They’ve shown me so incredibly much and been God’s hand and feet in action for me. I posted earlier this year about whether or not people at different ages are really even the same person. If I looked back at myself a year ago, I don’t think I would recognize myself beyond my looks. I was that person, but now I’m not. That person has died, or a more accurate term might be evolved. I’m no longer that person.

I’m incredibly thankful to everyone who made this happen for me. Really it was only me, but I’ve gotten so much subject material from others, and it’s you all who read this. You are just as vital to this blog as I am, because like the old question goes, “If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” If I post something and nobody bothers to read it, does it really matter? To a small extent, but I really do write this for you all as much as myself. From feedback I’ve received on this post, unless they lied to me or I’m overestimating my value, then this blog has changed lives or perspectives. It’s affected people, and that’s my goal. If I can make one person smile with a post, or make one person laugh, or cry, or get angry at me, then I’ve done my job. That’s what an artist’s job is: to make people feel. This seems perfectly plain to me, but I’ll get a little “controversial” here. Art is entirely a human thing. There is not a single species that makes art. They may create it, but they don’t recognize it as art. It’s a tool for them to survive. Art is uniquely human. It takes a human eye to discern art. Art is not something that can be evolved. It serves absolutely no purpose in the evolutionary process. If I’m wrong, please correct me so I don’t look completely stupid. But really, do any other animals produce literature? Can they paint on their own? Do they dance for the sake of dancing, not to warn their brethren? Do they make music intentionally without the purpose to scare away a predator? Humans sure do. To me, that reflects a Creator who is capable of recognizing art. God is creative, and we were made in his image. We inherited that from our Heavenly Father. I don’t think you’ll find that in your genes exactly, but it’s still true isn’t it? Everyone is capable of recognizing art and creating it themselves? Just something to think about. Some people may believe that artists are unimportant in the grand scheme of life; we can go on living without them. I’d say you can go on surviving, because what point is there to living a life void of art? Art is what makes life worth living, even if it doesn’t contribute hardly anything to survival.

I take pride in being an artist. I consider myself a success. Success doesn’t mean money or a big home. That follows the same train of thought. What purpose does a home serve, or money serve if you have nobody to share it with? There is so much more to life than wealth and power and fame. The materialistic is mortal and doomed to die. It won’t bring joy. There isn’t anything wrong with having it, but it is not there to be the object of your desires. It’s a gift. People live perfectly happy and joyful lives living on nothing. Just from my Asian Humanities class that becomes apparent. Something like 50% of Indians are outside the caste system. They scrape dung from the streets and suffer from leprosy among other things. And in numerous videos they are content with their lives because they have a faith. Their faith may be aligned with false gods, but that doesn’t make them any less wrong! They realize that joy doesn’t come from self! It comes from service and faith and an outside force. They have right what so many of us, even many Christians, have wrong. I would rather die of leprosy at the age of 40 if I could look back on my life and be satisfied than if I lived to be 100 and died having everything without satisfaction.

This post got weird…

Sorry, I was intent on thanking everyone and looking introspectively, but once I hopped on that life lesson train, I stayed along for the ride (just remember I went from fuzzy hair to methods of torture). To bring this back around, this blog has been a blessing to me. I’m very privileged to be able to do this, and I don’t consider that enough. I’m very fortunate that I have people around the world who will read what I have to say and to some degree value it. I really hope this blog has served you as well as it’s served me. Thank you for all you’ve done to contribute to this. Here’s to you, 52, and here’s to another fantastic year of blogging.


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