If I had a penny for my thoughts, I would be so ridiculously filthy rich.

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In Conclusion…

…I still cannot rap well.























I have never…

…been so begrudgingly productive.

It’s like I exhausted all my procrastination routes and was forced to be productive as a result.

Although I didn’t want to be productive. And yet, I managed to be productive consistently off and on for the entire day.

I’ve never done something like this.

I’ve never been so productive with something I was trying so hard to mentally avoid.


This doesn’t make sense.

And yet I’ve made progress.


It’s like…

…being surrounded by it all makes me want to pull my hair out.

…but it also encourages me.

But I still want to pull my hair out.





*flips some tables* (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

And I just…

…want to ask

maybe scream

“How do you guys do it??”


“How…How in the world do you make that leap from where you are presently to where your future self stands?”

“How do you overcome that line? How did you break past that tape constructed of doubts, insecurities, and deep rooted fears that obscures the ‘finish line’?”


“How do I get there there too?”

I know there’s no hidden tiny bottle filled with special, secret liquid that magically makes things happen…and yet….I still find myself asking if I could get the coordinates or at least a map to this bottle. Objective battling with subjective again

and again

and again

I ask,

“How in the world did you guys make this leap?”

Just by believing in yourselves? Having people believe in you? Having a history in the craft? Is there a right answer?


Is there even an answer??

*sighs* I feel like I’m shouting at the sky, most times. I never hear an answer, only my own questions tripping over each other.

“IF I” by Seventeen


“If I could
If I could
If I could
I’ll do whatever”                                                                                                             난 뭐라도 do

And when something…

…reminds me of how fragile life can be. It pushes me to live harder. To give out all of the love that I can and know I’m capable of delivering while I am still breathing.

In order to do that, I can’t let my anger or bitterness or deep rooted resentment block that path. I can’t continue to hold onto the things that suffocate my soul. If I do, if I relapse back…then this precious chance to be alive will be wasted yet again on fruitless habits.

Therefore, I started this project.

Usually people face a near death experience that pushes them to purse the crazy idea that they tossed aside, shoved into a box to never be opened until possibly never. Maybe I experienced one and I just can’t remember what it is, because I feel as if I’m acting in the same exact manner. While working on this project, I had the thought that even if I die today (that day particular, not today)-an unexpected accident or something out of my control occurs-I wouldn’t feel regretful, because I was finally doing the thing I love and the thing that brings me one of the highest joys.

And I cherish that feeling.

I have a lot of regrets in my life, more regrets than successes unfortunately. Simple regrets, difficult regrets, silly regrets, serious regrets-if I were to to list them in a word document…I don’t even think I’d bother to go back and read something that ridiculously  long. But during the last leg of college, I guess something snapped in me. Something that was sick and tired of feeling regretful of unsaid things and undone things. Thus my secret project started (on very wobbly legs) and this blog began.

I can’t really think of a nice ending clincher for this post. I don’t think I used “ending clincher” correctly, perhaps that was redundant. But perhaps that is also the point. To not always have a nice or perfect way to do things, but to





do the things.