Hello stargazers!
I'm Chow Hon Yu! You can call me Henry if you like (my friends do). I'm in Form 2 (8th grade for Americans) and I study in Evangel College. I'm also the only non-American author.
At Primary School, I was avoided by ALL the students because I was 'dirty' (Say that to me now and I will punch you). I was kind of a stargazer. I don't remember when this silliness stopped and the details (and I don't want to). The beginning of secondary school wasn't any better. I was still excluded from the rest, an outcast. One mean guy said I was 'weird' 'snitchy' 'had no friends'. I was nearly removed from the Facebook group of my class. But I kept dreaming. Hoping that I will be included.
We'll talk about my background later. Now let's talk about my relationship with Victoria. We first met at kindergarten, I don't recall details. Our next encounter was in P.5, where we had a brief argument on something. Our next encounter was after the graduation ceremony. She asked for my gmail, which I gave her. We started talking to each other online in the summer. We talked about music, habits, fun suff, etc. We found out that chatting with each other was enjoyable, so we continued to do so. Over the years (literally), we started to talk to each other about our daily lives, our problems and our conversations increased in depth. We started to consult each other, comfort each other. We were there for each other.
Anyway, back to my background. Even though I had no friends, some people still stood up for me. One guy prevented me from being removed from Facebook. After being a 'stargazer' in the beginning of Form 1 (grade 7 for hillbillies), Something finally happened. A girl introduced me to the regular kids. Anyway, that's how I stopped being a stargazer. I guess.
But hate was still inside me. Hate against those who neglected me. Those who looked down upon me. Those who showed disrespect to me. I turned me rage to the mean guy mentioned before. I decided to tournament him. Show him how it feels like to be looked down upon, dismissed. It started as innocent teasing. But then it became physical. Eventually, it drove him mad. He tried to tell the teachers, but they dismissed him. It was like living hell for him.
But this bullying also drove me mad. My friends tried to persuade me out of this madness. I ignored them and defended myself with silly reasons. Maybe I was driven mad because he never quite remember what he said to me. But I do. I still remember his dismissive attitude. He became a well known snitcher in our class, ruining our reputation. I only tried to stop when Victoria interfered. (4 details ask her)
Maybe you think that a bully is the least suitable author for this stargazer blog. I beg to differ. Maybe I can help those being bullied. I should know more about bullies. If you are being bullied, seek teacher interference. Make your teacher listen in any way possible. And bullies aren't just bullies for no reason (well, some of them aren't) Maybe they were bullied before. Maybe they experienced a terrible childhood.
I sincerely hope that you won't despise me for being a former bully. I feel terrible myself. I hope the readers will forgive me. It took me a lot of courage to confess.
Let us move on. I want to make up for my acts, so I joined. One thing: if nobody wants to be your friend, it isn't just their problem (sometimes it isn't theirs at all). It's also yours. You need to change. Don't be afraid. Be bold. Be proactive. Be nice. You don't have to change your beliefs or appearance (most of the time). Just find your faults and improve. When you do become popular, NEVER NEVER EVER forget those who have helped you. You should also try to forgive those who dismissed and disrespected you. Or else you might go crazy.
Anyway, I hope you'll accept me. I might be very flawed, but please give me a chance.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Promises, Promises.
Alright.
This is it. I am going to delete one of my blogs. From now on, http://hopeforthestargazers.blog.com/ will be, invalid. This blog will remain, though.
Promises are not meant to be broken. If they were, what is the point? But who has not broken promises? I know I have, I have broken some in this very blog. I had promised updates every so often, but how could I do that? I am, after all, 13. I have my priorities, my jobs and duties as as student. I am thirteen year old who has been overlooked and stepped on over and over again. A typical, everyday girl you would find on the street. I am not desperate for fame, money, or any of that. I want to tell a story. No matter how bland it may be, I want to share what I have.
Have any of you heard of the book, "A single shard"? I want to be that one, shattered piece that makes it to show my master's mastery. I don't want to let my story go out with the tide. I want to make the biggest gamble of my life right now, to blog and to tell, to make a small effort that is shadowed by my past.
But hey, lets look a little forward. A fellow stargazer told me how many teens are thinking about what they are gonna do. At first I was so surprised I got another stargazer. Struck me hard. For a second there, I realized how close I have come to abandoning this place, when a sudden change of events told me otherwise. It was pandemonium in my head, and when it settled down, it was a draw between a childish "This little light of mine" and the cliche "Never give up". It gave me the idea a kid like me, a smoldering flicker, could start a forest fire. Like after being rejected many times, a Harry potter, Starbucks, or a Disney would arise from ash. But that's a little too much of a wishful thinking, eh? I am, after all, a kid.
The future is promising, but promising, exactly, what? Will that promise be broken? The future can not promise all of us to be heroes. Can it? Funny how every small choice we make can account for an alternate universe of either heaven or hell. How we must take advantage of everything life throws in our foggy path. That's life, a fog stricken path. in the childhood days, your parents will guide you. the fog is still there, and you can't see two feet ahead of you. But life goes on, and the hand fades, until you are in your teens, and start to wonder which fuzzy voice and calling you should follow. Scared of what is below, if you are going to fall. What is going to happen, what is going on. Where you are going to end up and when. In the end, you wonder, frankly, what is my future and how do I get there?
And I guess that's what the future is. An unknown promise.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
This is it. I am going to delete one of my blogs. From now on, http://hopeforthestargazers.blog.com/ will be, invalid. This blog will remain, though.
Promises are not meant to be broken. If they were, what is the point? But who has not broken promises? I know I have, I have broken some in this very blog. I had promised updates every so often, but how could I do that? I am, after all, 13. I have my priorities, my jobs and duties as as student. I am thirteen year old who has been overlooked and stepped on over and over again. A typical, everyday girl you would find on the street. I am not desperate for fame, money, or any of that. I want to tell a story. No matter how bland it may be, I want to share what I have.
Have any of you heard of the book, "A single shard"? I want to be that one, shattered piece that makes it to show my master's mastery. I don't want to let my story go out with the tide. I want to make the biggest gamble of my life right now, to blog and to tell, to make a small effort that is shadowed by my past.
But hey, lets look a little forward. A fellow stargazer told me how many teens are thinking about what they are gonna do. At first I was so surprised I got another stargazer. Struck me hard. For a second there, I realized how close I have come to abandoning this place, when a sudden change of events told me otherwise. It was pandemonium in my head, and when it settled down, it was a draw between a childish "This little light of mine" and the cliche "Never give up". It gave me the idea a kid like me, a smoldering flicker, could start a forest fire. Like after being rejected many times, a Harry potter, Starbucks, or a Disney would arise from ash. But that's a little too much of a wishful thinking, eh? I am, after all, a kid.
The future is promising, but promising, exactly, what? Will that promise be broken? The future can not promise all of us to be heroes. Can it? Funny how every small choice we make can account for an alternate universe of either heaven or hell. How we must take advantage of everything life throws in our foggy path. That's life, a fog stricken path. in the childhood days, your parents will guide you. the fog is still there, and you can't see two feet ahead of you. But life goes on, and the hand fades, until you are in your teens, and start to wonder which fuzzy voice and calling you should follow. Scared of what is below, if you are going to fall. What is going to happen, what is going on. Where you are going to end up and when. In the end, you wonder, frankly, what is my future and how do I get there?
And I guess that's what the future is. An unknown promise.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
About me
I didn't capitalize the m for me in the title (even though I'm supposed to) because that might mean I'm really prideful or something similar.
I know, weird header to introduce myself to complete strangers. But I'm weird, compared to my classmates. Some things such as beauty and intelligence only exist due to comparison.
My name is Ngai Yeung (NAI-yeung). Call me Rondi, my middle name (That is, if you'll ever call me). I'm 11 this year and Victoria (in case you forgot, which you aren't supposed to, she is the person wrote the blog post below this one) is in the same school as me. We are friends. I'm a Christian. Choppy phrases. Are fun.
I like to play chess (If I have a FIDE rating, it'll be 1200), daydream (especially in class), read,watch Star Wars The Clone Wars (I'm a Star Wars geek), play my violin,etc.I became friends with Victoria during our service trip to Cambodia.To be honest, I think my biggest reward from that trip is getting to know her .It's like, finally, somebody thinks like me.
Anyway.
My email is nyrondi29@gmail.com
Email me if you have a question related to Star Wars! Or anything else. Or email Victoria. We'd like it a lot.
Actually.
I don't know how to say bye, I'm done, partly because I've never written a blog post before. So I'll take the simple way (No matter how philosophical you can get, keep it simple at times, says Victoria. And Han Solo).
Bye.
Simple enough?
I know, weird header to introduce myself to complete strangers. But I'm weird, compared to my classmates. Some things such as beauty and intelligence only exist due to comparison.
My name is Ngai Yeung (NAI-yeung). Call me Rondi, my middle name (That is, if you'll ever call me). I'm 11 this year and Victoria (in case you forgot, which you aren't supposed to, she is the person wrote the blog post below this one) is in the same school as me. We are friends. I'm a Christian. Choppy phrases. Are fun.
I like to play chess (If I have a FIDE rating, it'll be 1200), daydream (especially in class), read,watch Star Wars The Clone Wars (I'm a Star Wars geek), play my violin,etc.I became friends with Victoria during our service trip to Cambodia.To be honest, I think my biggest reward from that trip is getting to know her .It's like, finally, somebody thinks like me.
Anyway.
My email is nyrondi29@gmail.com
Email me if you have a question related to Star Wars! Or anything else. Or email Victoria. We'd like it a lot.
Actually.
I don't know how to say bye, I'm done, partly because I've never written a blog post before. So I'll take the simple way (No matter how philosophical you can get, keep it simple at times, says Victoria. And Han Solo).
Bye.
Simple enough?
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Time
As long as I'm up here, I think I should make myself a little less broad and get a little more personal. But first of all, I'd really appreciate it if I ever receive a comment or a volunteer to join me in this blog here. It would mean the world to me.
So I was just sitting in bed, These nights have been really restless lately. I would stay up till five, and never drift off. I could hear the birds chirping outside, and I would feel exhausted, but not sleepy. Take a step back, and I looked at my life. Wow, I am a terrible person. I'm not as innocent as I thought, I messed up even more than I thought. I hate everything around me. I hated the way I'm mad, the way I talked, the way I acted, the way how I never owned up to myself. How everyone is ahead of me, when I know that could have been me. I never knew it was possible to drown in your own tears. I hated my actions, my choices, but most of all I hated myself.
Now all I know is that I wanted out. If I look around me, I can see the world, but I can never find satisfaction I never liked this place. I never wanted to be here. I don't feel comfortable around these people. I have nobody to go to. I have heard so much about God, this well know stranger Jesus. In a cramped space, like Hong Kong, I'm just one little teen. Look around me, these tall buildings a hundred floors high. Each floor with 7 apartments. Each apartment a family. I'm part of something so big, but I feel no special. I feel like, it doesn't matter much if I wasn't. I feel like a tooth in a shark's mouth. If I fall, my place would just be taken by another, just as good, maybe even better than I. Thinking about that, I feel so insignificant. Worthless, small, tiny. Like nothing I do will ever matter.
At school, things are pretty much the same. I get humiliated some, laugh some, cry some. Fail some, win some. But I still feel so hollow. Turns out, without love, I am nothing. Hope fades, faith deteriorates. "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.-1 Corinthians 13:13."
Do they not say: "Go for your dreams"? Then they say: "Its not your time yet". But I just don't want to wait anymore. I hate that another day every day I still drag my sorry self to places I'd rather be not, surrounded by people whom the more I know about the more I dislike. Enveloped by hundreds but ultimately, still alone. When the lights are turned to the max, I see people living the prime of their middle school life. But nobody sees me in the shadows. I've given up on my chances, I've messed up too far and too much. Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me, till then there is the dark corner... Always welcoming.
Right now, I hate myself. People hate me. Why would God be any different? I'm far from perfect, far from Okay. It's like sitting in the audience, and when you see the performers onstage, and you know you can do way better than them. But when they invite you onstage, you trip going onstage. That moment when you get back up on your feet and look out back into the audience, and you hear the painful laughter. Red faced, tear stained, that's exactly how I feel right now. I just feel like, I don't love anyone. And I don't see why anyone, would love me.
Without ugly, there is no beautiful. With all girls beautiful, there has to be one who is different. Or else that means everyone is ugly.
But I still can't do without love.
"If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.- 1 Corinthians 13:1-7, The Message."
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
So I was just sitting in bed, These nights have been really restless lately. I would stay up till five, and never drift off. I could hear the birds chirping outside, and I would feel exhausted, but not sleepy. Take a step back, and I looked at my life. Wow, I am a terrible person. I'm not as innocent as I thought, I messed up even more than I thought. I hate everything around me. I hated the way I'm mad, the way I talked, the way I acted, the way how I never owned up to myself. How everyone is ahead of me, when I know that could have been me. I never knew it was possible to drown in your own tears. I hated my actions, my choices, but most of all I hated myself.
Now all I know is that I wanted out. If I look around me, I can see the world, but I can never find satisfaction I never liked this place. I never wanted to be here. I don't feel comfortable around these people. I have nobody to go to. I have heard so much about God, this well know stranger Jesus. In a cramped space, like Hong Kong, I'm just one little teen. Look around me, these tall buildings a hundred floors high. Each floor with 7 apartments. Each apartment a family. I'm part of something so big, but I feel no special. I feel like, it doesn't matter much if I wasn't. I feel like a tooth in a shark's mouth. If I fall, my place would just be taken by another, just as good, maybe even better than I. Thinking about that, I feel so insignificant. Worthless, small, tiny. Like nothing I do will ever matter.
At school, things are pretty much the same. I get humiliated some, laugh some, cry some. Fail some, win some. But I still feel so hollow. Turns out, without love, I am nothing. Hope fades, faith deteriorates. "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.-1 Corinthians 13:13."
Do they not say: "Go for your dreams"? Then they say: "Its not your time yet". But I just don't want to wait anymore. I hate that another day every day I still drag my sorry self to places I'd rather be not, surrounded by people whom the more I know about the more I dislike. Enveloped by hundreds but ultimately, still alone. When the lights are turned to the max, I see people living the prime of their middle school life. But nobody sees me in the shadows. I've given up on my chances, I've messed up too far and too much. Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me, till then there is the dark corner... Always welcoming.
Right now, I hate myself. People hate me. Why would God be any different? I'm far from perfect, far from Okay. It's like sitting in the audience, and when you see the performers onstage, and you know you can do way better than them. But when they invite you onstage, you trip going onstage. That moment when you get back up on your feet and look out back into the audience, and you hear the painful laughter. Red faced, tear stained, that's exactly how I feel right now. I just feel like, I don't love anyone. And I don't see why anyone, would love me.
Without ugly, there is no beautiful. With all girls beautiful, there has to be one who is different. Or else that means everyone is ugly.
But I still can't do without love.
"If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.- 1 Corinthians 13:1-7, The Message."
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Commitment...?
It's been a while. :) Staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of me, its like a stranger to me. I don't even really know what to type. So many things I have to say, but right now I'm just dumbfounded. I've been reading my old posts, all the way back when I was 12. People have been telling me that they ave been really cheesy. And I guess I see that now. I kinda wanted to take down some of them, however I decided not to. But cheesy-ness is part of who I am. I'm still going to sound a little stuck up, a little bold know-it-all sometimes. I wanted to keep a commitment to this blog though. It's nice to look back upon what I thought at a time.
Recently I've been under a lot of pressure and stress. At school, I've been failing 4 courses, not because of me being stupid, but of irresponsibility's and carelessness. After a while everything just snowballed and my soul got completely crushed. I felt so helpless and so weak. Parents and teachers, the counselor and even the principal was on my back, I was in huge risk of a suspension, and I received 4/5 detentions for being tardy and falling asleep in detention. (Fell asleep due to being sick- Drug use) I'm currently still being "bullied". At home everything is going crazy. Parents pressuring me about the bills, the future, the grades. Homework piling on each other, piano, books, exercise. It's killing me. It's like people are cutting me up... Slowly. Being told again and again its not my time yet, not my time yet. Underestimated and overestimated at the same time. I wished for a complete stop of everything. Just so I could maybe take on the world at another time, when I have gotten back up on my feet.
Christmas break, 3 weeks of nothing, as I wished for with all my heart...Resulting in tears all three days of Christmas, betrayal, suicidal thoughts, and a mental breakdown on new year. On top of that, I found out my brother was also currently facing bullying with a mainland boy. After a session of a fighting class, my brother went to the bathroom to change, and this boy came in with him in the same cubical, and beat his head against the wood door, slapped him a dozen times, and caused him overall pain. Beaten up, bruised and crying, my brother spend the day down in the dumps, and this story wasn't revealed until a later time and under persuasion. My brother, this annoying fat turd, bullied. I was so surprised. I've been through bullying ever since kindergarten. But just with verbal, even though sometimes it does go physical. But looking at him, it pains so much to know he is hurting from what I've suffered from too. I know what bullying feels like, and to see that such a pure soul, at the simple age of 8 is going through that, kills me even more. I've gone through worse, but it does not make matters less severe.
School starts again tomorrow. I know this sounds like an annoying complaint from a wimpy 8th grader, but right now this is all that's on my heart. I confess my faith had been fading, fading quick. But recently I found a single memento of one of my spiritual highs. In fact, it was a memento of one of my proudest moments, one of my greatest. One of those moments I would not trade for anything. I was shocked, but I was mostly amazed. I spent the rest of that week plugged in. I found myself repeating this one song over and over again. I made up my mind that tomorrow I can face school with my faith, however frail it is. I know the nightmare will continue, I know there is going to be threats around every corner. But I'll just have to wing it, with my faith. I'll try to keep my commitment to this blog, with this ongoing marathon in my life. It feels better having less secrets, and knowing that this little blog of mine will always be here for me.
I also wanted you guys to know, that music has now become one of the highlights in my life- esp electric and Christian. And the song I mentioned above was 'Worn', By Tenth Avenue North. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUEy8nZvpdM
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Recently I've been under a lot of pressure and stress. At school, I've been failing 4 courses, not because of me being stupid, but of irresponsibility's and carelessness. After a while everything just snowballed and my soul got completely crushed. I felt so helpless and so weak. Parents and teachers, the counselor and even the principal was on my back, I was in huge risk of a suspension, and I received 4/5 detentions for being tardy and falling asleep in detention. (Fell asleep due to being sick- Drug use) I'm currently still being "bullied". At home everything is going crazy. Parents pressuring me about the bills, the future, the grades. Homework piling on each other, piano, books, exercise. It's killing me. It's like people are cutting me up... Slowly. Being told again and again its not my time yet, not my time yet. Underestimated and overestimated at the same time. I wished for a complete stop of everything. Just so I could maybe take on the world at another time, when I have gotten back up on my feet.
Christmas break, 3 weeks of nothing, as I wished for with all my heart...Resulting in tears all three days of Christmas, betrayal, suicidal thoughts, and a mental breakdown on new year. On top of that, I found out my brother was also currently facing bullying with a mainland boy. After a session of a fighting class, my brother went to the bathroom to change, and this boy came in with him in the same cubical, and beat his head against the wood door, slapped him a dozen times, and caused him overall pain. Beaten up, bruised and crying, my brother spend the day down in the dumps, and this story wasn't revealed until a later time and under persuasion. My brother, this annoying fat turd, bullied. I was so surprised. I've been through bullying ever since kindergarten. But just with verbal, even though sometimes it does go physical. But looking at him, it pains so much to know he is hurting from what I've suffered from too. I know what bullying feels like, and to see that such a pure soul, at the simple age of 8 is going through that, kills me even more. I've gone through worse, but it does not make matters less severe.
School starts again tomorrow. I know this sounds like an annoying complaint from a wimpy 8th grader, but right now this is all that's on my heart. I confess my faith had been fading, fading quick. But recently I found a single memento of one of my spiritual highs. In fact, it was a memento of one of my proudest moments, one of my greatest. One of those moments I would not trade for anything. I was shocked, but I was mostly amazed. I spent the rest of that week plugged in. I found myself repeating this one song over and over again. I made up my mind that tomorrow I can face school with my faith, however frail it is. I know the nightmare will continue, I know there is going to be threats around every corner. But I'll just have to wing it, with my faith. I'll try to keep my commitment to this blog, with this ongoing marathon in my life. It feels better having less secrets, and knowing that this little blog of mine will always be here for me.
I also wanted you guys to know, that music has now become one of the highlights in my life- esp electric and Christian. And the song I mentioned above was 'Worn', By Tenth Avenue North. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUEy8nZvpdM
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Monday, December 10, 2012
Styx
I'm sorry for being gone, it's just that school's catching up to me, and this shadow called stress has been overcoming me lately. I don't know when can I persistently write again. Probably in break? But I don't know. I've been sick lately, unsteady in my health. Anyways, there's this myth in Greek mythology. Don't get me wrong, I am a Christian.
However, reading about other religions is kinda interesting. Greek Gods are really amazing. Their perception of heaven and hell are combined into one underworld. Before that, you will have to pay a fee to cross a river. The river Styx, to get there. Before you die, your loved ones will put a coin under your tongue, so you could pay for the boat ride across the river. Otherwise, you just stay on the other side, wandering.
Right now, I look exactly like that. so lost.It feels like nothing is happening, and the weight of the world is on me. So close, yet so far. So near, yet so distant. Just when you think you're out you're whisked right back in. It's like running barefoot on the slipping hot sand, midday in the desert, and only being able to stay in the shade of the tree that's a couple miles ahead of you. And when you do reach there, you stay in the shade savoring sweet victory. And then, you realize you're standing in quicksand. Like you're drowning slowly.
It just seems so much and too much to handle you know? People always tell you to rely on God, but then at the same time they tell you to take up on your own responsibilities. And what is relying on God? What is his love? All these testimonies of how people were dramatically saved, and yet I'm just here, lost and confused, on the other side of the Styx...
"It's like I'm a flitting ghost, not a warrior. The bullets don't ricochet, they just go right through me. It's like I don't even hurt. It's like I've lost the ability to rebel, hate, and love. It's like I'm a dead unfeeling rock. A soul on the other side of the Styx. Wandering and swaying in the haunting silence. I don't even, care. Anymore. I'm not even alive, and I need not fight anymore. Looking at the world spin without me, the distant battle of what used to seem so important. Now it's like I'm dead."
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
However, reading about other religions is kinda interesting. Greek Gods are really amazing. Their perception of heaven and hell are combined into one underworld. Before that, you will have to pay a fee to cross a river. The river Styx, to get there. Before you die, your loved ones will put a coin under your tongue, so you could pay for the boat ride across the river. Otherwise, you just stay on the other side, wandering.
Right now, I look exactly like that. so lost.It feels like nothing is happening, and the weight of the world is on me. So close, yet so far. So near, yet so distant. Just when you think you're out you're whisked right back in. It's like running barefoot on the slipping hot sand, midday in the desert, and only being able to stay in the shade of the tree that's a couple miles ahead of you. And when you do reach there, you stay in the shade savoring sweet victory. And then, you realize you're standing in quicksand. Like you're drowning slowly.
It just seems so much and too much to handle you know? People always tell you to rely on God, but then at the same time they tell you to take up on your own responsibilities. And what is relying on God? What is his love? All these testimonies of how people were dramatically saved, and yet I'm just here, lost and confused, on the other side of the Styx...
"It's like I'm a flitting ghost, not a warrior. The bullets don't ricochet, they just go right through me. It's like I don't even hurt. It's like I've lost the ability to rebel, hate, and love. It's like I'm a dead unfeeling rock. A soul on the other side of the Styx. Wandering and swaying in the haunting silence. I don't even, care. Anymore. I'm not even alive, and I need not fight anymore. Looking at the world spin without me, the distant battle of what used to seem so important. Now it's like I'm dead."
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Count
So I was gone for a while, have you guys noticed? In a month's time, I've learnt a lot, and many times I have wanted to share about what's going on. Hey I missed this place. November was a misty month. I enjoyed the brisk fall winter.
Anyways, one thing I learnt so far was to count my blessings. Remember that elementary Bible teacher telling you how millions of people are homeless, dying, in poverty, hopeless, and you are sitting here blessed in this classroom? So you might have a story behind you. How your friends have betrayed you, how you lost it all, how you fell down to rock bottom in a single move. How you couldn't control anything and everything just fell apart? I've been there. Many have.
When you see the one's you grew up with blossom, and you're still a seed. When you look at this kid and you could just say: She's got it made. Then you look at the mirror. What a failure. How could you!? Disappointing all these people, not living up to expectations, not being enough, not doing well enough. Sitting home on a Friday evening while everyone else is invited to a mega slumber party. Someone holding a grudge against you, and you don't understand. What could be! What could be... And what is. Everyone else is having fun at the amusement park. And I'm here at home watching TV. Woe is me. I don't get it. Why don't I get that? Do I not deserve that?
But then 2 things happened. I went to Cambodia, and the story of Job reached me. In Cambodia, I was sick, and I had high fever and a really bad stomach ache. I was about to miss the tourist attraction because of all that. I was in my bed, knowing everyone else was down at their breakfast table. Me in my hotel room. What could possibly be worse? I prayed to get better, first time it was just me and God, no parents, not a lot of medical aid.
Cambodia was a rural place. We (My school- it was a school trip) had visited orphans the day before. No AC, no beds, no running water, no chargers, flies everywhere, and yes, no internet. I was in my room, television at my fingertips, AC on blast, toilet a few feet away. I was in a bed, under the covers, and I was complaining. I had the funds to get here and back! And to those who are living in stilt houses living off sponsors? If they had this fever and tummy ache they would most possibly be dead. No care would be provided for them. They were outcast. After realizing this... I felt so bad. I heard this old Chinese saying that if you were born in a blessed place, you don't know the meaning of what is blessed. (身在福中不知福) I felt like these FWP were not problems. I started from praying for myself to praying... for them. Ten minutes later, my temperature went from 39.2°C to 37.6°C. I could go.
It always looks bad. Job, He went from everything, to nothing. But the Lord gives and takes away. He said, "I came naked from my mother's womb, and I will be naked when I leave. The LORD gave me what I had, and the LORD has taken it away. Praise the name of the LORD!" Look at Jonah next. He complained when the parasite ate the tree away. But the tree was never his to begin with! Neither was my joy, my pleasures, my family, my friends. Why do we sulk so much when they are taken away? One thing to remember. Our life? Does not belong to us. And we deserve to be tortured, as we are sinners. But when we do get something bad, we must remember the good. Or it will be uneven, and you will feel upset and depressed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQan9L3yXjc
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Anyways, one thing I learnt so far was to count my blessings. Remember that elementary Bible teacher telling you how millions of people are homeless, dying, in poverty, hopeless, and you are sitting here blessed in this classroom? So you might have a story behind you. How your friends have betrayed you, how you lost it all, how you fell down to rock bottom in a single move. How you couldn't control anything and everything just fell apart? I've been there. Many have.
When you see the one's you grew up with blossom, and you're still a seed. When you look at this kid and you could just say: She's got it made. Then you look at the mirror. What a failure. How could you!? Disappointing all these people, not living up to expectations, not being enough, not doing well enough. Sitting home on a Friday evening while everyone else is invited to a mega slumber party. Someone holding a grudge against you, and you don't understand. What could be! What could be... And what is. Everyone else is having fun at the amusement park. And I'm here at home watching TV. Woe is me. I don't get it. Why don't I get that? Do I not deserve that?
But then 2 things happened. I went to Cambodia, and the story of Job reached me. In Cambodia, I was sick, and I had high fever and a really bad stomach ache. I was about to miss the tourist attraction because of all that. I was in my bed, knowing everyone else was down at their breakfast table. Me in my hotel room. What could possibly be worse? I prayed to get better, first time it was just me and God, no parents, not a lot of medical aid.
Cambodia was a rural place. We (My school- it was a school trip) had visited orphans the day before. No AC, no beds, no running water, no chargers, flies everywhere, and yes, no internet. I was in my room, television at my fingertips, AC on blast, toilet a few feet away. I was in a bed, under the covers, and I was complaining. I had the funds to get here and back! And to those who are living in stilt houses living off sponsors? If they had this fever and tummy ache they would most possibly be dead. No care would be provided for them. They were outcast. After realizing this... I felt so bad. I heard this old Chinese saying that if you were born in a blessed place, you don't know the meaning of what is blessed. (身在福中不知福) I felt like these FWP were not problems. I started from praying for myself to praying... for them. Ten minutes later, my temperature went from 39.2°C to 37.6°C. I could go.
It always looks bad. Job, He went from everything, to nothing. But the Lord gives and takes away. He said, "I came naked from my mother's womb, and I will be naked when I leave. The LORD gave me what I had, and the LORD has taken it away. Praise the name of the LORD!" Look at Jonah next. He complained when the parasite ate the tree away. But the tree was never his to begin with! Neither was my joy, my pleasures, my family, my friends. Why do we sulk so much when they are taken away? One thing to remember. Our life? Does not belong to us. And we deserve to be tortured, as we are sinners. But when we do get something bad, we must remember the good. Or it will be uneven, and you will feel upset and depressed.
I'm going to end this with a link to a song. Through this month, this song has stood out to me. If God seems far, and you don't feel him through all the bad things you have been through, listen to it. It's called Blessings, by Laura Story.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Surrounded
Surrounded with no escape. We are in battle, this life, standing in a battlefield. One round of ammo, that's it. No escape. Somehow, it gets tiring. Surrounded by so many people you can talk to, but never do. We know our fate well, we know our end will all be the same. But our life here is hell on earth... Holding the gun, everyone is caving in... Trying to take it in, just unsure of whats even going on. Responsibility, task after task, command after command. Life can be a battlefield sometimes. Train day after day, knowing still, you will never be good enough to be the best. What you would give for a few months in solitude, just being safe wrapped in the blanket of safety.
What I would give. To just be away from my parents, grades, friends. EVERYTHING. Just to be in complete silence and peace, meditation. Surrounded by this all, we start thinking what we are made to be. After holding onto the "theory", we start to wonder, wander, doubt. Just curled up, dead already on the inside. Sometimes it just takes a blow to the head, and everything would be finished. Seems so easy to do huh. After a while, the journey seems pointless. The reason seems blank. Sometimes its hard to just go on, when every attempt you have made has resulted in misery. Sometimes it goes so bad... We feel like if we were dead now, it would have made no difference.
Surrounded by all these fears nobody has ever conquered, you start wondering why they did not. Then you ask yourself why do you do this. So cold, frigid, even though your head is burning. I don't know. I'm lost.
To be continued...
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Hold
White knuckled, clenched jaw, hot blooded, heavy eyed and pale with thirst, exhaustion and frustration. Do you know what I mean? Headaches and fear. When you live like that everything seems harder, and things slow down and rush at the same time. Over a heavy dose of solitude, I pulled myself back together and chose to continue. Why? Why not. In the midst of your struggle lies the opportunity to help someone else through theirs. I know how solitude can heal you, but at the same time, human support is pretty important too... I have gotten a lot of views, Russia, USA, and Hong Kong. I guess I shouldn't stop, for you guys. But at the same time, I really hope that you guys would contact me. :) It would be great to know who you are, also a comment, an email, something simple would be deeply appreciated, and it would be really nice to know there are ones who need what I have to offer.
Over the few days I have been pretty shallow, things have not gone as I wanted, and things have gone out of hand. It felt like I was on a crazy roller coaster ride that nobody could control. "Are you okay? You don't look so happy. You sure? Really? What happened?" I appreciate the care and concern that other people showed me, but how could I give them an answer, when I myself cannot define what exactly is going on right now? I guess complaining about all this is pointless in some ways, someone homeless and suffering has it worse than us, sitting in comfy chairs, in front of our computer, munching on a snack. Sometimes things seem so cheery, but sometimes, something completely funny happens. The homeless and hopeless one finds hope, and we lose it. Some people are so poor, all they have is money.
Tears rolling down your cheeks, like the racing beads you watched from the inside of the car on a stormy day. Remember how we were ambitious in our standing? When we were knocked down, we insisted on standing again, and we said, we don't care what they say. We'll show them! Call me juvenile, but I was so naive. Standing was easy to say, difference is easy to pronounce. A word in itself, what could it possibly mean though? Sometimes when you say something, post something, do something... Maybe it's so small that you won't think they would notice... Ends up being the most powerful thing you could have ever done, and you would not have even thought about the influence it has made. Give and it will be given to you, A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.~Luke 6:38. I guess whatever I do, if I give my very best, the very best will come back to me. Because, I believe in karma, and those who suffer now, shall be satisfied, as the Bible has promised. I guess that's why, when I feel like there is nothing of worth to hold onto in something I believe in, I still find some meaning to hold onto my belief, because I know in the end, I would have regretted not giving my best, when I am not given the best. Because wasting anything is a shame, and none of us deserve less than what we deserve. As humble as we should be, we should keep that in mind. Holding on, is to learn that once you believe, you never let go. So that is why, we have to choose very carefully what we believe, and what is worth holding onto. We have to KNOW what is worth holding onto, so when we feel like the meaning isn't not there, we can still remember why we know it is worth it.
Who said holding was easy? Some had to hold till they broke. Holding is not easy at all. It means devoting a lot of your time and effort. Still, holding is a choice. Is that not the beauty of it? As we lie here broken, and we see our goal, the small window of light in the far distance, and we know what we want to be. We want to stand again, so very very bad. While others sit and watch in their brokenness, some of us stargazers choose to hold onto the little shards of broken hope scattered about on the cold rock bottom. We are the ones who would do anything to stand again, anything... But the price is high.
To stand again, takes a miracle, as I had said before. But it isn't impossible. It just depends whether we are willing to do all we can, be all we are and give our all. Standing again, is to learn from all the pain, muster all you are, and limp and crawl towards the light. Standing again, is a miracle your soul has to create from all the pain and toil, blood and sweat. The harder you work for something, the more precious it seems. And trust me, standing again, is 100% worth it.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Over the few days I have been pretty shallow, things have not gone as I wanted, and things have gone out of hand. It felt like I was on a crazy roller coaster ride that nobody could control. "Are you okay? You don't look so happy. You sure? Really? What happened?" I appreciate the care and concern that other people showed me, but how could I give them an answer, when I myself cannot define what exactly is going on right now? I guess complaining about all this is pointless in some ways, someone homeless and suffering has it worse than us, sitting in comfy chairs, in front of our computer, munching on a snack. Sometimes things seem so cheery, but sometimes, something completely funny happens. The homeless and hopeless one finds hope, and we lose it. Some people are so poor, all they have is money.
Tears rolling down your cheeks, like the racing beads you watched from the inside of the car on a stormy day. Remember how we were ambitious in our standing? When we were knocked down, we insisted on standing again, and we said, we don't care what they say. We'll show them! Call me juvenile, but I was so naive. Standing was easy to say, difference is easy to pronounce. A word in itself, what could it possibly mean though? Sometimes when you say something, post something, do something... Maybe it's so small that you won't think they would notice... Ends up being the most powerful thing you could have ever done, and you would not have even thought about the influence it has made. Give and it will be given to you, A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.~Luke 6:38. I guess whatever I do, if I give my very best, the very best will come back to me. Because, I believe in karma, and those who suffer now, shall be satisfied, as the Bible has promised. I guess that's why, when I feel like there is nothing of worth to hold onto in something I believe in, I still find some meaning to hold onto my belief, because I know in the end, I would have regretted not giving my best, when I am not given the best. Because wasting anything is a shame, and none of us deserve less than what we deserve. As humble as we should be, we should keep that in mind. Holding on, is to learn that once you believe, you never let go. So that is why, we have to choose very carefully what we believe, and what is worth holding onto. We have to KNOW what is worth holding onto, so when we feel like the meaning isn't not there, we can still remember why we know it is worth it.
Who said holding was easy? Some had to hold till they broke. Holding is not easy at all. It means devoting a lot of your time and effort. Still, holding is a choice. Is that not the beauty of it? As we lie here broken, and we see our goal, the small window of light in the far distance, and we know what we want to be. We want to stand again, so very very bad. While others sit and watch in their brokenness, some of us stargazers choose to hold onto the little shards of broken hope scattered about on the cold rock bottom. We are the ones who would do anything to stand again, anything... But the price is high.
To stand again, takes a miracle, as I had said before. But it isn't impossible. It just depends whether we are willing to do all we can, be all we are and give our all. Standing again, is to learn from all the pain, muster all you are, and limp and crawl towards the light. Standing again, is a miracle your soul has to create from all the pain and toil, blood and sweat. The harder you work for something, the more precious it seems. And trust me, standing again, is 100% worth it.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Friday, October 19, 2012
Stuck
So now I'm stuck. I have finally reached my limit, and I'm going to be idle for a few days. Sorry to take my focus off. I'll be back asap, but I really am not feeling well at all. Just letting you guys know. Sorry for letting you guys down... :'( I didn't want this to be this way either.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Monday, October 15, 2012
Talent
Hey guys, there has been an increase of views in the USA, :) Thanks a lot! It's great knowing there is someone who supports and appreciates what you are doing. If you want any requests, or just comments, please don't hesitate to email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com Also, there is also a continued view number in HK. Thanks xD! So follow, for updates every couple (or so) days, and comment or leave a "like".
*Also, if you're up for the challenge, join the stargazers! Just email me, and we could blog together. I really want a partner!
Anyhoo, before I get too wrapped up in gaining the favor of you guys (Even though it would be really awesome to finally get an email/comment)...
This post on talent is not similar at all to the "gift" post I made. Sure, they are synonyms, but similar doesn't mean same. They both mean something we don't deserve, and they are both given to us by God, and both are things we should never take for granted. But one is something we use, and one we accept.
So last winter I was put in some sort of gifted program. I felt like IQ and gifted was a way to judge, and so I felt like it was pointless. Being talented is something you cannot control, and I feel like just because of that, we have no right to brag of it. And so, I turn my head, and today I am faced with a fistful of flyers waving in my face: ENROLL IN MIDDLE SCHOOL TALENT SHOW! Ah, the sheer IRONY. Society tells us the perfect idea of a human, the barbie face and perfect hair, as I said in my post "beauty". But I want to ask everyone out there, what is perfect to you? Perfect has a different meaning to all of us. Everyone's definition of perfect something is different. So with everything being perfect to someone, nothing is. :)
Talent is not something to flaunt, like your body, because no talented person is perfect to anyone, because to achieve perfection is morally impossible. If everyone is equal in human nature, nobody is talented, because we all are. I'm talented (apparently) at writing, how about you? Don't tell me nothing, because I have said that before, and I was wrong. I never knew I was going to come out on literature either, until I was at the point of breaking. The legend of Aang said: In the lowest of your lows, comes the greatest change. That was when I found out I had a relationship with words, even when it has been hidden, it was there, but it was just dusty, and overlooked. Until I was bent over in sorrow, I never really realized it's presence, nor have I dusted it off. But when I did, I found it gleaming, shouting out to me as my own talent. I think the posters for the talent show should simply say we are all talented in our own unique way, don't you think? To show it off... maybe a little prideful. I guess being humble is something we should all possess, and telling the world that you have something of value in you is kind of expected, nothing really special, for we all know we are all special.
Sometimes, when we are given a talent, we are meant to not just keep it for ourselves. We are meant to do good with it, not only for ourselves but for the world. Talent shows are meant to show off the things you are capable of, but not necessarily willing to share. What we do, we should do in the name of god for him and for others. Are you willing to sacrifice your all, including your talent all for them? Because if you think being talented means you are the very best, there is a hundred thousand out there better than you. You will never be the best, but you can do your best to honor others, and I guess that's reward enough. After all... Is that not what talent is given to us for?
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
*Also, if you're up for the challenge, join the stargazers! Just email me, and we could blog together. I really want a partner!
Anyhoo, before I get too wrapped up in gaining the favor of you guys (Even though it would be really awesome to finally get an email/comment)...
This post on talent is not similar at all to the "gift" post I made. Sure, they are synonyms, but similar doesn't mean same. They both mean something we don't deserve, and they are both given to us by God, and both are things we should never take for granted. But one is something we use, and one we accept.
So last winter I was put in some sort of gifted program. I felt like IQ and gifted was a way to judge, and so I felt like it was pointless. Being talented is something you cannot control, and I feel like just because of that, we have no right to brag of it. And so, I turn my head, and today I am faced with a fistful of flyers waving in my face: ENROLL IN MIDDLE SCHOOL TALENT SHOW! Ah, the sheer IRONY. Society tells us the perfect idea of a human, the barbie face and perfect hair, as I said in my post "beauty". But I want to ask everyone out there, what is perfect to you? Perfect has a different meaning to all of us. Everyone's definition of perfect something is different. So with everything being perfect to someone, nothing is. :)
Talent is not something to flaunt, like your body, because no talented person is perfect to anyone, because to achieve perfection is morally impossible. If everyone is equal in human nature, nobody is talented, because we all are. I'm talented (apparently) at writing, how about you? Don't tell me nothing, because I have said that before, and I was wrong. I never knew I was going to come out on literature either, until I was at the point of breaking. The legend of Aang said: In the lowest of your lows, comes the greatest change. That was when I found out I had a relationship with words, even when it has been hidden, it was there, but it was just dusty, and overlooked. Until I was bent over in sorrow, I never really realized it's presence, nor have I dusted it off. But when I did, I found it gleaming, shouting out to me as my own talent. I think the posters for the talent show should simply say we are all talented in our own unique way, don't you think? To show it off... maybe a little prideful. I guess being humble is something we should all possess, and telling the world that you have something of value in you is kind of expected, nothing really special, for we all know we are all special.
Sometimes, when we are given a talent, we are meant to not just keep it for ourselves. We are meant to do good with it, not only for ourselves but for the world. Talent shows are meant to show off the things you are capable of, but not necessarily willing to share. What we do, we should do in the name of god for him and for others. Are you willing to sacrifice your all, including your talent all for them? Because if you think being talented means you are the very best, there is a hundred thousand out there better than you. You will never be the best, but you can do your best to honor others, and I guess that's reward enough. After all... Is that not what talent is given to us for?
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Crazy
My birthday was a few days ago. Everything has been a mix of emotions and pain. I mean, I would honestly do anything for this blog to reach those who need it. But sometimes humans can be selfish. I have been so wrapped up in my own life that I forgot about this blog, and when I should be blogging, I have been doing something I have been telling everyone I will never do again. I guess nobody can really hide pain and sorrow right? I'm really sorry. I PROMISE next time I take a longer leave I will inform you guys. There has been a few regular views in HK and the US of A. Whoever you are, please spread this. I'm sorry I've been disappointing you guys for being idle. Also, please feel free to email me or leave a comment, and give me some topics to write about. I'm always going to be here for you, and I hope this way we could get to know each other better.
Well. I guess things are crazy huh. Crazy. Crazy for what? Define crazy. I don't know if I said this before, but I'm pretty sure I did. What is normal? Point to one guy who is normal. Well the person you pointed at is the true crazy. In a world where everyone is crazy... Nobody is. Ever watched "The Incredibles"? When Syndrome said that when he was old and had his fun, he would sell his gadgets so everyone could be super. And with everyone super, nobody will be. We are all crazy. But then again, what do we crazy people consider crazy? Do raisin cookies point at chocolate chip cookies and go: That cookie is weird/insane/crazy? No. Both cookies are cookies, but only certain people will like certain cookies. You can't blame lactose intolerant people for not liking chocolate cookies. But let me ask you a question. Why do we accept the common crazy and abandon the ones who are just crazy in their own way, their own beautiful way? Why do we dream our dreams, and believe nobody dreams the same way, and so we don't do anything and pretend they never existed? If you know me well enough, you know even the smallest of life's mysteries can make me think way, way, out. I hear one word, and I think of everything. When I was a kid, and a topic was mentioned, I recall saying this phrase every time: Tell me all about it. Where I was typing the above, I figured out the answer pretty easily. What caused the above is the thing that makes us unique, that makes me a stargazer. It's the reason why I started the blog. It's the reason why stargazers are everywhere, but just are not found yet. Stargazers are like stars, they are there, but you just can't see them. That's the beauty of them, they are so precious, and so rare to find. When you find one, its like digging and digging, and striking gold.
So, the answer is obvious. We refuse to accept it, because of fear. We don't stand out, we don't accept difference, because we want to be the same. But 20 years later, when you look back, will you say it was worth it, being like everyone else, typical, "normal", doing what everyone does and acting like everyone else? Will you accept the fact that what you chose was who you are's true and proud choices, to be like everyone else, and in the end, not even knowing WHY it seemed like such a big deal to fit in back then, when you were made to be different, why we tried to hard, strained ourselves and made normalcy a huge deal when it simply was not? So let me tell you right now, right here. Live life with no regrets. Do what you want, and do it not for everyone, but for yourself, for now and ever. I'm doing this blog for myself, and because myself wants to do it for you, in front of the screen. I'm doing this for everyone because who I am CHOOSES this. Do what you want, and I want to do this for others. I know 20 years later, no word, no post I do will ever be of regret, because this is what I feel, and who I am right now.
When I blog, I am FREE. The world is away from me, and I forget time. Because when I blog, I come alive. All these years I have been driving myself nuts for not doing anything when I have so much to offer, but nobody around really needs it. I read everywhere that when you feel that way, someone somewhere needs exactly what you need to offer. So here I am, doing what I love, what I want, and someone out there is needing what I write right now. Let me tell you, you are not crazy. Who you are is not what you have been through, not what you have done, not even the choices you make, how others see you, your reputation, your sin, your job, school, home, skin, hair, clothes, finance, how the world rates you, nor how you rate yourself. It is what those things have made you. So you can choose to join the crowd, or you can shine the way you want to be, a gleaming star glittering in the black-blue sky, instead of a longing stargazer in awe of what other stars are accomplishing right now, when the stargazer herself/himself can be up there with the others, shining his or her's own brilliant light.
In the end, my definition of being crazy is that you are a conqueror of fear itself. Maybe somebody should unleash that beast, and live out their dream. I want us to do that. Me, and the others who feel the same way. Me and the stargazers out there. Because the only crazy, are those who are capable of doing way more than they can ever hope and imagine for, lying low within the shadows that are patrolled by fear.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Well. I guess things are crazy huh. Crazy. Crazy for what? Define crazy. I don't know if I said this before, but I'm pretty sure I did. What is normal? Point to one guy who is normal. Well the person you pointed at is the true crazy. In a world where everyone is crazy... Nobody is. Ever watched "The Incredibles"? When Syndrome said that when he was old and had his fun, he would sell his gadgets so everyone could be super. And with everyone super, nobody will be. We are all crazy. But then again, what do we crazy people consider crazy? Do raisin cookies point at chocolate chip cookies and go: That cookie is weird/insane/crazy? No. Both cookies are cookies, but only certain people will like certain cookies. You can't blame lactose intolerant people for not liking chocolate cookies. But let me ask you a question. Why do we accept the common crazy and abandon the ones who are just crazy in their own way, their own beautiful way? Why do we dream our dreams, and believe nobody dreams the same way, and so we don't do anything and pretend they never existed? If you know me well enough, you know even the smallest of life's mysteries can make me think way, way, out. I hear one word, and I think of everything. When I was a kid, and a topic was mentioned, I recall saying this phrase every time: Tell me all about it. Where I was typing the above, I figured out the answer pretty easily. What caused the above is the thing that makes us unique, that makes me a stargazer. It's the reason why I started the blog. It's the reason why stargazers are everywhere, but just are not found yet. Stargazers are like stars, they are there, but you just can't see them. That's the beauty of them, they are so precious, and so rare to find. When you find one, its like digging and digging, and striking gold.
So, the answer is obvious. We refuse to accept it, because of fear. We don't stand out, we don't accept difference, because we want to be the same. But 20 years later, when you look back, will you say it was worth it, being like everyone else, typical, "normal", doing what everyone does and acting like everyone else? Will you accept the fact that what you chose was who you are's true and proud choices, to be like everyone else, and in the end, not even knowing WHY it seemed like such a big deal to fit in back then, when you were made to be different, why we tried to hard, strained ourselves and made normalcy a huge deal when it simply was not? So let me tell you right now, right here. Live life with no regrets. Do what you want, and do it not for everyone, but for yourself, for now and ever. I'm doing this blog for myself, and because myself wants to do it for you, in front of the screen. I'm doing this for everyone because who I am CHOOSES this. Do what you want, and I want to do this for others. I know 20 years later, no word, no post I do will ever be of regret, because this is what I feel, and who I am right now.
When I blog, I am FREE. The world is away from me, and I forget time. Because when I blog, I come alive. All these years I have been driving myself nuts for not doing anything when I have so much to offer, but nobody around really needs it. I read everywhere that when you feel that way, someone somewhere needs exactly what you need to offer. So here I am, doing what I love, what I want, and someone out there is needing what I write right now. Let me tell you, you are not crazy. Who you are is not what you have been through, not what you have done, not even the choices you make, how others see you, your reputation, your sin, your job, school, home, skin, hair, clothes, finance, how the world rates you, nor how you rate yourself. It is what those things have made you. So you can choose to join the crowd, or you can shine the way you want to be, a gleaming star glittering in the black-blue sky, instead of a longing stargazer in awe of what other stars are accomplishing right now, when the stargazer herself/himself can be up there with the others, shining his or her's own brilliant light.
In the end, my definition of being crazy is that you are a conqueror of fear itself. Maybe somebody should unleash that beast, and live out their dream. I want us to do that. Me, and the others who feel the same way. Me and the stargazers out there. Because the only crazy, are those who are capable of doing way more than they can ever hope and imagine for, lying low within the shadows that are patrolled by fear.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Sky
First things first. Sorry, guys, but I feel like nobody is really supporting me right now. I felt so ambitious, but right now, with my birthday coming up, and everything going on isn't going so well, I wanted to stop the blog forever. But I thought again, why did I make this blog? Because I believed the sky was the limit, There were no limits to what we/ I can do, and I guess nobody could really make me stop, but me. Still, I believe a post per day is, frankly, interfering with my schedule and life. So I decided on a compromise. I will make a post per 2/3 days.
So I was trying to find some people who could relate, so I went on Google, and I came across this website called livelifehappy.com Not the ideal stargazer material, but I guess I could relate with them.They have a goal to inspire, and I have one to help those who need it. I appreciate their effort and meaning, that's why I want to share it here.
I saw this post they made, and it said: Don't let anyone turn your sky into a ceiling. I was touched more by this than anything on that site (So far). I am one out of 2 million, and so are they. We are the 0.5% of the population. Minus all the others, and only count those who know English, I guess there is less than 8 million on earth. Minus those who are special in other ways, I would say about 3 million people are capable of that understanding. Find those who could relate to me, that are my age, that makes less than/about 1 million. 100000 people. Think of that number, and minus my chances of knowing them personally and making them my friends. The number is SO SMALL. And here, on the internet I found a few. I'm not going to let that go easily. They understand, relate. KNOW.
So back to the quote. The limit is none. I guess. I mean, how funny is it? Some people think that the sky is forever, the universe. But some think it is only up till the atmosphere. Think again. Who has the right to control you? God and god only. God is HUGE. There are no limits of god. There are, therefore, no limits of what we can do, what we value, or what we worship. It is what we choose, our limits, are limited to what we DECIDE our sky is. You may never know who is going to make your morals a ceiling. You may be that person. Ever thought of it that way? We are the most likely, and most powerful to ourselves. We accept Christ, not forced to worship. Everything we do is up to US. Up to ME, YOU. Our sky. is. our. belief.
I'm tired of doing this alone. Somebody, please give me some feedback. I really wish to know someone is out there. Thanks guys, I guess duty calls. I should get going.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Simplicity
Sorry I've been idle for the past few days, I guess I was just facing some of my own problems. Anyhoo, I guess my personal things shouldn't affect the blog. This blog isn't about me, it's about the millions of stargazers outside, complaining about depression and heartbreak. Well. I really don't know how many readers there are, but I have faith there are, and hope they would support this. So if you are reading this, please leave some comments and/or email me. It means a lot!
So, today I was in church, just another regular Sunday, you might say. I guess it was. I arrived to church late again, overslept, and most of what the sermon the woman was preaching, I already knew. Typical.
So I guess I was just there at the table in the restaurant, carving doodles with a knife into the paper where my plate of spaghetti was laid upon. My mother suggested a walk in the park. I went. My family was at the park, and my brother and I wandered off. I settled on the bench, it was a fine day, cool breeze, strong sun. The bright blue October weather, fall with a hint of winter. I clutched my caramel bubble tea, and took small sips, just looking at the clouds, listening to the laughter and talk of other people, the sound of birds and rustling leaves. Crisp grass, beautiful day, it was a sign of a good sunset and clear sky for stargazing. I was there, and I saw a bunch of middle aged women and a man that looks like he had hit his golden years, in the midst of the grass, playing with... Plastic flying dragonflies. I was, intrigued. Plastic flying dragonflies are toys meant for children about 8 years of age. I realized pretty soon they were a bunch of mentally disabled people.
More sips and another five minutes I could identify them all. Just there, on the red bench, I was learning so much. The woman with the ponytail and iPhone was the teacher, who just went around teaching the bunch how to spin the dragonfly into the air, cracking small jokes and giving thumbs up to the others when they successfully launch the dragonfly in the air. There were 4 women beside the teacher, the hefty woman with the Micky mouse shirt, the woman who looked like her head was too small for her body, and jumped around instead of walking, the chimp who sat there giggling the whole time, not doing much. And the "silverback" woman, the leader of the gang, who acted like the baboons in "Tarzan", wore a red shirt. The man, who looked like he was in his 50's wore knee length socks, and blue Nike shoes.
I watched. All the queer little things they did, the messed up groan-laugh the jumpy woman gave whenever she launched the dragonfly, even when she failed, she laughed. The half smile and nostril flare the hefty one made when she rubbed the dragonfly, the look of interest she had, the determination. The giggling chimp with the neon pink clip in her hair, covering her mouth, laughing at every joke the teacher said. The silverback, who gave the hefty one hugs when she couldn't launch the dragonfly. The man, who kept giving himself a thumbs up every-time he launched the toy in the air, because that is what he was rewarded with the first few times he launched it, under the careful guide of the teacher. The teacher, who kept encouraging them, who gave up everything she had to be with them. What made her give that love? She was not pitying them. She was loving them, like a mother. She kept taking pictures of them, helping them.
A few more sips. She cared. The teacher. The others lived a hard life, being abandoned like this. The man, and the women, where are their parents? What was going on in their parents heads when they knew their child was challenged this way? The man is too old to have parents that are alive. How did he react when they passed? How did they all live their lives? How did other behave around them? I had so many questions. But I was too scared to ask.
Now, all that was left of my bubble tea was a pile of bubbles. I chewed on them, one by one, wondering.
They were happy. So very happy. These are truly a people who have not conformed to the pattern of our world. Independent, yet happy in their nature. From afar, they look not much different from us. But after a while they look like monkeys, playful, cheery. I know they lived tough. Little can we compare to them. But there in a park, under my gaze, they laughed and giggled. They were mocking depression in the face. We complain, heartbreaks, bad grades, and cry at night. They? They LAUGH. They are so simple, and sometimes, simple is good. Funny thing is, you can be whatever you want, even when you know better...
I hold a cup in my hand, now empty, sitting on a red bench on a typical Sunday afternoon, but now I sit in a completely new state of mind. I have gained a huge amount of respect for the teacher, and the students as well. I feel like if they can be happy, even after all the pain and toil they have been through, we can too. If some people who are so simple, can have such great happiness, why can't we? Why is it so hard, to be happy, like the jumpy one, to be proud of trying, not be afraid to laugh out in public, and express your true feelings? Why is it so hard, to be determined, and love what you do, like the hefty one? Why is it so hard, to find pleasure everywhere in life, when even the chimp can? Why is it so hard, to just love others, like the silverback? Why is it so hard, to encourage and love yourself, like the man? When even the simplest of us all can do that, why can't we? Why are people like the teacher so rare? Why can't we be like her, and see the beauty in everything, no matter how unlikely it seems? Why is it so hard, to care?
They pack up, their little picnic over, those simple beings. I whispered a silent prayer for them, and watched them go. In the most unlikely places, we can really learn the most valuable lessons. Today, was the day I learnt simplicity.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
So, today I was in church, just another regular Sunday, you might say. I guess it was. I arrived to church late again, overslept, and most of what the sermon the woman was preaching, I already knew. Typical.
So I guess I was just there at the table in the restaurant, carving doodles with a knife into the paper where my plate of spaghetti was laid upon. My mother suggested a walk in the park. I went. My family was at the park, and my brother and I wandered off. I settled on the bench, it was a fine day, cool breeze, strong sun. The bright blue October weather, fall with a hint of winter. I clutched my caramel bubble tea, and took small sips, just looking at the clouds, listening to the laughter and talk of other people, the sound of birds and rustling leaves. Crisp grass, beautiful day, it was a sign of a good sunset and clear sky for stargazing. I was there, and I saw a bunch of middle aged women and a man that looks like he had hit his golden years, in the midst of the grass, playing with... Plastic flying dragonflies. I was, intrigued. Plastic flying dragonflies are toys meant for children about 8 years of age. I realized pretty soon they were a bunch of mentally disabled people.
More sips and another five minutes I could identify them all. Just there, on the red bench, I was learning so much. The woman with the ponytail and iPhone was the teacher, who just went around teaching the bunch how to spin the dragonfly into the air, cracking small jokes and giving thumbs up to the others when they successfully launch the dragonfly in the air. There were 4 women beside the teacher, the hefty woman with the Micky mouse shirt, the woman who looked like her head was too small for her body, and jumped around instead of walking, the chimp who sat there giggling the whole time, not doing much. And the "silverback" woman, the leader of the gang, who acted like the baboons in "Tarzan", wore a red shirt. The man, who looked like he was in his 50's wore knee length socks, and blue Nike shoes.
I watched. All the queer little things they did, the messed up groan-laugh the jumpy woman gave whenever she launched the dragonfly, even when she failed, she laughed. The half smile and nostril flare the hefty one made when she rubbed the dragonfly, the look of interest she had, the determination. The giggling chimp with the neon pink clip in her hair, covering her mouth, laughing at every joke the teacher said. The silverback, who gave the hefty one hugs when she couldn't launch the dragonfly. The man, who kept giving himself a thumbs up every-time he launched the toy in the air, because that is what he was rewarded with the first few times he launched it, under the careful guide of the teacher. The teacher, who kept encouraging them, who gave up everything she had to be with them. What made her give that love? She was not pitying them. She was loving them, like a mother. She kept taking pictures of them, helping them.
A few more sips. She cared. The teacher. The others lived a hard life, being abandoned like this. The man, and the women, where are their parents? What was going on in their parents heads when they knew their child was challenged this way? The man is too old to have parents that are alive. How did he react when they passed? How did they all live their lives? How did other behave around them? I had so many questions. But I was too scared to ask.
Now, all that was left of my bubble tea was a pile of bubbles. I chewed on them, one by one, wondering.
They were happy. So very happy. These are truly a people who have not conformed to the pattern of our world. Independent, yet happy in their nature. From afar, they look not much different from us. But after a while they look like monkeys, playful, cheery. I know they lived tough. Little can we compare to them. But there in a park, under my gaze, they laughed and giggled. They were mocking depression in the face. We complain, heartbreaks, bad grades, and cry at night. They? They LAUGH. They are so simple, and sometimes, simple is good. Funny thing is, you can be whatever you want, even when you know better...
I hold a cup in my hand, now empty, sitting on a red bench on a typical Sunday afternoon, but now I sit in a completely new state of mind. I have gained a huge amount of respect for the teacher, and the students as well. I feel like if they can be happy, even after all the pain and toil they have been through, we can too. If some people who are so simple, can have such great happiness, why can't we? Why is it so hard, to be happy, like the jumpy one, to be proud of trying, not be afraid to laugh out in public, and express your true feelings? Why is it so hard, to be determined, and love what you do, like the hefty one? Why is it so hard, to find pleasure everywhere in life, when even the chimp can? Why is it so hard, to just love others, like the silverback? Why is it so hard, to encourage and love yourself, like the man? When even the simplest of us all can do that, why can't we? Why are people like the teacher so rare? Why can't we be like her, and see the beauty in everything, no matter how unlikely it seems? Why is it so hard, to care?
They pack up, their little picnic over, those simple beings. I whispered a silent prayer for them, and watched them go. In the most unlikely places, we can really learn the most valuable lessons. Today, was the day I learnt simplicity.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Silence
So you go to the movies, and there appears the words "Silence is golden". Oh yeah, movie, don't interrupt, sure. But this phrase made its way into my head somehow, and I catch myself thinking about it in class, at home, all day, at night. Why does it stick so much?
I was used to walking into a class, and everyone would just turn, and stare. That silence, is that golden? I plop down on a seat, and I see my desk-mate move to the far side of the table, acting like I was radioactive. That silence, is THAT golden? The stares hurt, I feel like tearing up, showing them how much the compressed pain really feels. Am I covered in poison, what have i ever done to ruin their lives? I walk down the hall, and there comes a hush over the lockers. I feel like I'm glowing, with everyone turning their heads at the sight of me. Everything I touch is contaminated. That silence, is that golden? Only through pain are we toughened.
Next week, on the 12th, it will be my birthday. I would be 13. You know how nobody has ever done anything JUST FOR ME, ever, on my birthday? I get waves, smiles, hugs, but nothing true. I get silence a lot. That silence is all for me. Are all silences golden? Even the ones that hurt? Even the ones that show hatred? How could someone have their music on blast, and still hear nothing? In a world of a deaf person, what is silence? Is that silence golden too? Well this took me 3 years to find. Silence, is a time of NOTHING. You can make it anything you want to, think anything you want to. The silence they send me, was an offering of their hate. They think that, but I think the opposite. I have a choice. "What makes a boy a man? It's the decisions he makes, the choices he make." ~Hellboy.
The silence I send back, is not "I know I'm better than all of you, so I just don't care." I guess one thing I learnt the hard way is just to choose to think : I am my own person. I can't tell you who I am, can you? The silence is a time of nothing, and if you focus hard, all silences can be as innocent as you wish, because you chose to think that way.
Silence is a time to think and reflect in a way no words could describe. The quiet kid speaks all of a sudden with surprising wisdom, and nothing can explain that, but silence. Silence, is a magic. Silence, is golden, but sometimes you can't see that. What is going on in their heads, you don't know. Somethings are better left unspoken, and that's why silence is there. Silence is that moment that really can transform you. Silence, is so subtle, yet so powerful. It is more than golden, it is a miracle in itself.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
I was used to walking into a class, and everyone would just turn, and stare. That silence, is that golden? I plop down on a seat, and I see my desk-mate move to the far side of the table, acting like I was radioactive. That silence, is THAT golden? The stares hurt, I feel like tearing up, showing them how much the compressed pain really feels. Am I covered in poison, what have i ever done to ruin their lives? I walk down the hall, and there comes a hush over the lockers. I feel like I'm glowing, with everyone turning their heads at the sight of me. Everything I touch is contaminated. That silence, is that golden? Only through pain are we toughened.
Next week, on the 12th, it will be my birthday. I would be 13. You know how nobody has ever done anything JUST FOR ME, ever, on my birthday? I get waves, smiles, hugs, but nothing true. I get silence a lot. That silence is all for me. Are all silences golden? Even the ones that hurt? Even the ones that show hatred? How could someone have their music on blast, and still hear nothing? In a world of a deaf person, what is silence? Is that silence golden too? Well this took me 3 years to find. Silence, is a time of NOTHING. You can make it anything you want to, think anything you want to. The silence they send me, was an offering of their hate. They think that, but I think the opposite. I have a choice. "What makes a boy a man? It's the decisions he makes, the choices he make." ~Hellboy.
The silence I send back, is not "I know I'm better than all of you, so I just don't care." I guess one thing I learnt the hard way is just to choose to think : I am my own person. I can't tell you who I am, can you? The silence is a time of nothing, and if you focus hard, all silences can be as innocent as you wish, because you chose to think that way.
Silence is a time to think and reflect in a way no words could describe. The quiet kid speaks all of a sudden with surprising wisdom, and nothing can explain that, but silence. Silence, is a magic. Silence, is golden, but sometimes you can't see that. What is going on in their heads, you don't know. Somethings are better left unspoken, and that's why silence is there. Silence is that moment that really can transform you. Silence, is so subtle, yet so powerful. It is more than golden, it is a miracle in itself.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Someone
So someone comes up to you, when you are busy trying to shut out the world, make your own little city, where everything could be as you like, in your dreams you can be anyone, anything, anywhere, and that someone just comes, and sits with you, asking to join your world. That world you made from the shards of your broken heart. That someone comes, and shows you how there is still good in the real world, and tells you that even in your perfect little planet you have made, sometimes its not enough. Fear draws you back, because you have never left that safety.
Do not shut out the world...? Why? No, Why NOT? People are cruel. The other someones that come to you, are almost always those who make you feel like crap. And then they just, leave. Sometimes, that hurts. Well, it always does, it just depends how much it hurts.
But that one someone who actually stayed there for me, was JESUS. He came up, and just sat with me. I mean, who would do that? I buried myself in books, four a day, ever since 4th grade. I felt like I would never be sick of this little world I so carefully made. I didn't care, didn't know anything outside, I was content. It was so addictive, it was just book after book. People who called me names, who made me suffer, who looked down on me, were drowned out by robin hood, animal farm, hatchet, the loner... I was fine. But why couldn't I just see there was more?
I had my face shoved into a novel each time, and I never looked up. I scoured the racks, devouring one after the other, and all that time, blocked out that someone, knocking on the door. The walls I built up, brick by brick, book by book, line by line, letter by letter, shut out not only the hurt, but the love, and the Lord. I have been looking so hard for someone to leech on, to walk with me, to help me, and I was so selfish. What I really needed to look for, has long been here. I just needed to turn the door, and let that someone in.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Do not shut out the world...? Why? No, Why NOT? People are cruel. The other someones that come to you, are almost always those who make you feel like crap. And then they just, leave. Sometimes, that hurts. Well, it always does, it just depends how much it hurts.
But that one someone who actually stayed there for me, was JESUS. He came up, and just sat with me. I mean, who would do that? I buried myself in books, four a day, ever since 4th grade. I felt like I would never be sick of this little world I so carefully made. I didn't care, didn't know anything outside, I was content. It was so addictive, it was just book after book. People who called me names, who made me suffer, who looked down on me, were drowned out by robin hood, animal farm, hatchet, the loner... I was fine. But why couldn't I just see there was more?
I had my face shoved into a novel each time, and I never looked up. I scoured the racks, devouring one after the other, and all that time, blocked out that someone, knocking on the door. The walls I built up, brick by brick, book by book, line by line, letter by letter, shut out not only the hurt, but the love, and the Lord. I have been looking so hard for someone to leech on, to walk with me, to help me, and I was so selfish. What I really needed to look for, has long been here. I just needed to turn the door, and let that someone in.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Patience
Ah, patience, my old friend. I met that along with darkness, silence, pain, hurt, fear and the others. Patience. What do you think? 8 letters in a string, a word your mother has always told you? Patience is why I'm still intact. Think of anger as a pack of wolves, and patience is a wall. I feel like when the wolves hide in the bushes, I sometimes don't even realize they are there. The stags, deer taunt me, and before I know it, the wolves tear at the wall, clawing at it, willing the bricks to fall.
You know why our mothers care so much about our patience? Because they know we will regret letting the wolves go to consume other people. The wolves lash out, mean words, physical actions, sudden outbursts of pure rage you never even knew you were capable of. The foundation of our patience is crucial. It feels like you're fighting yourself, but I feel like if God could bear with us, if he could give us patience, why can't we?
I feel like his patience and forgiveness is greater than any other. God would turn the other cheek if you slap him, he took the whipping, the crown of thorns, he was on that cross for so long till he died, his wall of patience was that strong. Compared to him, what can we endure? To look at your murderer in the eye, not objecting or fighting back, but just being there, without cursing him even in your heart, just being willing to do as he pleases, and let. him. kill. you. THAT, is patience. I can't do that. Can you?
I've regretted snapping at people so many times. Yet, patience is what we should strive for, to make our wall as tough as possible. Sooner or later it will fall, but the question is how easily. In the end it would feel good, you would be glad you kept it in. Making other people feel horrible sometimes makes yourself feel worse. Patience... If you own even a little bit of it, it would help you a lot more than you can without it, and even a little, can go a pretty long way.
Ever felt this way? It's like a pack of wolves eating you up slowly from within. Their snarl creeps onto your face, and you force it into a smile. They claw at your heart, and you desperately cling on, grabbing it with all your might, nails piercing it, you feel the rapid pulse and hot, sticky blood streaming down your arm, you gasp, you try to hold it in, you hold your tongue, but the wolves tug hard. You cover your mouth, but it's too late. The wolves escape, and free at last, run off unstoppable into the midnight, taking it's howl with it. ~ME
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
You know why our mothers care so much about our patience? Because they know we will regret letting the wolves go to consume other people. The wolves lash out, mean words, physical actions, sudden outbursts of pure rage you never even knew you were capable of. The foundation of our patience is crucial. It feels like you're fighting yourself, but I feel like if God could bear with us, if he could give us patience, why can't we?
I feel like his patience and forgiveness is greater than any other. God would turn the other cheek if you slap him, he took the whipping, the crown of thorns, he was on that cross for so long till he died, his wall of patience was that strong. Compared to him, what can we endure? To look at your murderer in the eye, not objecting or fighting back, but just being there, without cursing him even in your heart, just being willing to do as he pleases, and let. him. kill. you. THAT, is patience. I can't do that. Can you?
I've regretted snapping at people so many times. Yet, patience is what we should strive for, to make our wall as tough as possible. Sooner or later it will fall, but the question is how easily. In the end it would feel good, you would be glad you kept it in. Making other people feel horrible sometimes makes yourself feel worse. Patience... If you own even a little bit of it, it would help you a lot more than you can without it, and even a little, can go a pretty long way.
Ever felt this way? It's like a pack of wolves eating you up slowly from within. Their snarl creeps onto your face, and you force it into a smile. They claw at your heart, and you desperately cling on, grabbing it with all your might, nails piercing it, you feel the rapid pulse and hot, sticky blood streaming down your arm, you gasp, you try to hold it in, you hold your tongue, but the wolves tug hard. You cover your mouth, but it's too late. The wolves escape, and free at last, run off unstoppable into the midnight, taking it's howl with it. ~ME
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Monday, October 1, 2012
Join me
So far I'm the only author here. I was bullied quite a bit, hurt a lot, upset a lot, depressed but I just don't show it. I feel like I need to stand out. One victim eventually has to. I want a companion though, being a lone wolf is sometimes tiring. Sometimes, I need my pack, my backup, my friends, the other stargazers. I know I'm not the only one who felt horrible, who still feels that way sometimes. Sometimes it takes courage to spread the word, and courage to take a stand. Hard to pull away from what we have all grown up with. But is it possible? I think nobody has ever tried really hard to find out. Ever heard of wild children? They make me think, what really makes us human? Is it our nature, or how we are grown up, in what surroundings we are grown in? I know the bullies were victims, and most people who are popular have other dreams they are too scared to pursue, because of our old enemy judgement. The world is big, its huge. But there is so much more to know, instead of just seeing. Imagine, if one of us just pulled away from what everyone already knows and already have seen, what would we find, what could we discover? Today, I want to ask you to join me. Not for my own popularity, but for those who need the help, and for God, who created all as equal. We want them to know they are worth it, they are NOT alone, they are being loved this very moment, no matter what they are doing and where they are.
I really want to do all I can to spread this hope, and so I wrote an official intro for my blog. This little fellowship is all I could think of for days now, and I really want to watch it grow. But it can't grow without being known. So please, if you're reading this out there, forward this to those who really need it. For them, for him.
Here is the promised intro.
Hope for the stargazers- Those who dream but fear to live- Official Intro.
Anyone out there feeling alone, feeling horrible, in need of some support? Victims who just want someone to hear you out but nobody seems to relate/understand? Wanting to undo some of your mistakes so hard, to turn back the hands of the clock somehow, but not ever being able to? Been told so many times that you're not worth it, thought about suicide many times over, unloved, misunderstood, underestimated?
Can't seem to find the answers you so desperately try to find, can't forget about that one guy/girl, feel like you are out of place, don't belong in this world? Sitting there in your own little world, sick and tried of people pitying you, trying to stand but keep getting knocked down again and again? Lying to yourself that everything is okay, but still feel the same horrible pain and suffering inside? Wanting to do anything to just have peace, to stop all the agony and sorrow, to end all the tears, close the wounds and heal the scars?
I was like that, and I felt so bad. I was on rock bottom, and I wished so much for someone to just lift me up. It didn't happen that way, and I'm still struggling. I know there are millions of people out there, who feel unaccepted and hurt, and I want to join them at their lonely table and talk with them, and learn to grow with them. I'm doing this, because for a revolution to happen, something revolutionary has to happen first. I feel a spark, and I want to start the fire, the fire of the holy spirit, the fire of hope.
So if you dream a lot, but fear is holding you back from actually doing what you want to do, join me here with the other stargazers, at hopeforthestargazers.blogspot.com or hopeforthestargazers.blog.com and email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com
Also, please share this post to those you know need it. :) Thanks. It would mean the world to me and them.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Anyone out there feeling alone, feeling horrible, in need of some support? Victims who just want someone to hear you out but nobody seems to relate/understand? Wanting to undo some of your mistakes so hard, to turn back the hands of the clock somehow, but not ever being able to? Been told so many times that you're not worth it, thought about suicide many times over, unloved, misunderstood, underestimated?
Can't seem to find the answers you so desperately try to find, can't forget about that one guy/girl, feel like you are out of place, don't belong in this world? Sitting there in your own little world, sick and tried of people pitying you, trying to stand but keep getting knocked down again and again? Lying to yourself that everything is okay, but still feel the same horrible pain and suffering inside? Wanting to do anything to just have peace, to stop all the agony and sorrow, to end all the tears, close the wounds and heal the scars?
I was like that, and I felt so bad. I was on rock bottom, and I wished so much for someone to just lift me up. It didn't happen that way, and I'm still struggling. I know there are millions of people out there, who feel unaccepted and hurt, and I want to join them at their lonely table and talk with them, and learn to grow with them. I'm doing this, because for a revolution to happen, something revolutionary has to happen first. I feel a spark, and I want to start the fire, the fire of the holy spirit, the fire of hope.
So if you dream a lot, but fear is holding you back from actually doing what you want to do, join me here with the other stargazers, at hopeforthestargazers.blogspot.com or hopeforthestargazers.blog.com and email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com
Also, please share this post to those you know need it. :) Thanks. It would mean the world to me and them.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Beauty
What is beauty? The flawless photo of the over-exposed female, the vain human being on steroids? Girls, do you wake up each morning, and spend about half an hour, fixing each strand of hair perfectly in their place, making sure your mascara is evenly spread, looking over and over again to see if each line of eyeliner is parallel to the other eye, to see if the texture, dryness, shininess of your expensive brand of gloss is a perfect shape? Making sure you won't stand out from all the other perfect faces? Guys, do you shake yourself awake each day, gelling your hair, combing it into some celebrity model, maybe do 20 push ups just so you won't be looked down as weak? Don't we all look in the mirror half naked, girls saying "I'm too fat" and guys saying "I need to work out more?"
Then we all strap on our expensive, fancy brand shoes, backpacks and watches, strut out the door like everyone else, and for a day we laugh and talk about what everyone else is saying. We talk until we are all the same, and we feel not so bad... Hey, I'm not ugly if they are all doing it, right? A zit? Foundation! Cracked lips? More gloss! Bad skin? Powder! All this, comes with a price, on your body's health and your money. They say your skin is bad, so you slap on more makeup. Makeup is like poison, you get addicted, and it worsens your skin condition. You keep slapping it on, it still looks fine, but how long can we hide it? When we are 70, some of us might just start getting tired of all the glitter. When we take it all off at night, what do we see? Wrinkles, imperfections, scars.
In the end, all the years of trying so hard to look pretty, it always ends up all the same, our beauty has faded. What happened? When I was 10, I woke up, brushed my bangs and teeth, washed my face, slapped on a worn and tattered blue/pink Cinnamoroll backpack and pink glasses, buttoned my shirt all the way up to the last button, pulled up knee length white socks, black flats, and smiled out the door. See how much two years could change me? I couldn't pair white socks with black flats anymore ( Huge fashion crime, traded in for black socks), Couldn't wear pink glasses (Traded them in for "better" black frames), Couldn't have straight bangs (Considered "ugly" and not trendy, traded them in for side bangs), Couldn't button any shirt all the way up (Considered nerdy, weird, awkward), Couldn't wear anything with a Sanrio cartoon on it (Considered kiddish, traded in for a purple Outdoor).
I stopped myself from all the mascara and eyeliner, the hair products and ponytails, and the "simple T-shirt". I stopped, because I don't think looking like everyone else is, frankly, "beautiful". Those who started a trend of clothes were just being themselves! Are we being ourselves? No, we are being them, and that makes us clones. the only thing we should strive to be like is Jesus. So right now,just stop here, and think. What if we all stopped dressing like everyone else, and turn a little hipster here? The world would be so much different if we all followed the beat of our own drum, and not listen to the beat of another pounding.
If you like something/somebody, who has the right to change that? You don't have to follow what others say about you. If you listen to them, and you believe that you are/look like crap, then you do look like crap, you are crap. But if you shut it out, and do what you know you were born to do, be who God destined you to be, then you are truly beautiful, because everything he makes is perfect. It's the devil out there, telling you are ugly when you are not. Beauty, is a choice. The choice, to believe who you are, and you are beautiful, because in the end, the true beauty that will endure forever, is your HEART.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Then we all strap on our expensive, fancy brand shoes, backpacks and watches, strut out the door like everyone else, and for a day we laugh and talk about what everyone else is saying. We talk until we are all the same, and we feel not so bad... Hey, I'm not ugly if they are all doing it, right? A zit? Foundation! Cracked lips? More gloss! Bad skin? Powder! All this, comes with a price, on your body's health and your money. They say your skin is bad, so you slap on more makeup. Makeup is like poison, you get addicted, and it worsens your skin condition. You keep slapping it on, it still looks fine, but how long can we hide it? When we are 70, some of us might just start getting tired of all the glitter. When we take it all off at night, what do we see? Wrinkles, imperfections, scars.
In the end, all the years of trying so hard to look pretty, it always ends up all the same, our beauty has faded. What happened? When I was 10, I woke up, brushed my bangs and teeth, washed my face, slapped on a worn and tattered blue/pink Cinnamoroll backpack and pink glasses, buttoned my shirt all the way up to the last button, pulled up knee length white socks, black flats, and smiled out the door. See how much two years could change me? I couldn't pair white socks with black flats anymore ( Huge fashion crime, traded in for black socks), Couldn't wear pink glasses (Traded them in for "better" black frames), Couldn't have straight bangs (Considered "ugly" and not trendy, traded them in for side bangs), Couldn't button any shirt all the way up (Considered nerdy, weird, awkward), Couldn't wear anything with a Sanrio cartoon on it (Considered kiddish, traded in for a purple Outdoor).
I stopped myself from all the mascara and eyeliner, the hair products and ponytails, and the "simple T-shirt". I stopped, because I don't think looking like everyone else is, frankly, "beautiful". Those who started a trend of clothes were just being themselves! Are we being ourselves? No, we are being them, and that makes us clones. the only thing we should strive to be like is Jesus. So right now,just stop here, and think. What if we all stopped dressing like everyone else, and turn a little hipster here? The world would be so much different if we all followed the beat of our own drum, and not listen to the beat of another pounding.
If you like something/somebody, who has the right to change that? You don't have to follow what others say about you. If you listen to them, and you believe that you are/look like crap, then you do look like crap, you are crap. But if you shut it out, and do what you know you were born to do, be who God destined you to be, then you are truly beautiful, because everything he makes is perfect. It's the devil out there, telling you are ugly when you are not. Beauty, is a choice. The choice, to believe who you are, and you are beautiful, because in the end, the true beauty that will endure forever, is your HEART.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Gift
So now I'm back. Three days have changed me so much more than I expected. I have finally accepted him into my life, and now God no longer sees me as the torn and weary, but as his own, the holy spirit itself inside me. I'm perfect.
I've always loved God with all I was, and yes, the guilt was always there that I felt I needed him only when I was upset, but the fact was always there that he had already forgiven you even before you were created. I loved him enough that he created me, gave me the power of life, the ability to do anything I please. But to give me life again through his own death on the cross? It made me think of the story of Moses and the red sea. God had freed them from Egypt, and the people look at that and say bless the lord. But for him to free them from their doubts by parting the red sea when the soldiers from Egypt came chasing after them, and save them again? He killed the soldiers with the sea, and freed them again, forever. God created us, made us out of his own image. We sinned, let him down over and over, again and again, time and time. We say, oh God is there, we need not be afraid. We feel like God is just something you use, like a light. We praise him everyday, saying I love you, you love me. We stand and sing hallelujah, he saved us. Then you go and face these huge doubts, when your parents tell you your grades aren't good enough, when they say you can do better, when they make you say you have done something wrong out loud.
How hard is it to say we did something wrong? To say we are sinners? We all know we have. We are sinners. But to say it, hurts. It makes you feel like you're less than you are, small, useless. Same thing with God, admitting you are a sinner, isn't the hardest thing in the world, but to actually say that, makes you realize we are way less strong, way less powerful than we think we are. We are tiny people, we are nothing compared to the world around us. Look, at the universe. Look at the galaxies, look at the stars at night. We are nothing, nothing more than a speck sitting on a stone, gazing up at infinity and beyond, wondering what we are. By the time you read the first part of this post, maybe about 100 stars have been created. Snap, new star, new star, new star... and he puts them in place by name. New baby is born every second. New life, new life, new life. You know how on a hike, you look up and say "this is amazing"? You look at the stars and say the same. Your look at your pastor, your bible, and what do you say? When God made the world, he said this is good. The world, the infinity, good. He made Adam, the sinner, the tempted. Sin took over him, and he knew that even before anything happened. Before this post existed, he looked at the sinner he created, and said : This is very good. God looks at us, and he sees the holy spirit. He sees us past our sin, and sees perfection. God made a drawing, breathed life in it, and instead of crumpling it up because it was ugly, he hung it up on his wall, in a frame, and gazed at us and said THIS IS VERY GOOD. Like we are a big deal, like we are of value.
Doubts sent by the devil. We feel like we are messed up, unloved, but here comes Jesus. Do you go spreading the gospel like: God made you! He made your messed up life for a reason! Yay! Or do you say: God loves you.(?) I felt Jesus' death was something that saved me from hell, something that was never going to be understood, he did because he wanted us with him in heaven, he gave us this gift because he loves us. Jesus was my passage to heaven. One day into camp, I felt like This gift wasn't something I could accept. Who am I? To take the gift of his love? To hold the dagger up to his neck and kill him? To accept this gift meant to kill him, to hammer him into the cross. And then there was fear. I have been told I wasn't worthy too many times, and now for him to die, and say, here, take this. It's your key to heaven. To ask your lord almighty to die for you? A little selfish huh. He is worth so much more than I am. There is a billion like me, and I am one out of trillions of his creations. Why do I deserve to be saved? I love him, and that's why I don't want to bear the title: I killed Jesus.
So I stand here, holding his life, the most powerful love in my hands. I have never been truly loved before, and now I hold this most blinding love, powerful force in my own hands? I couldn't put it in me, I felt like that was really selfish and mean to take his life, just for your own in heaven. To make him suffer so much, the crown of thorns pressed against his head, the blood, the 39 whips, the three days in hell! For what, your eternal life in heaven? I felt like I had no right to take his life, but he has every right to take mine. To die for me? I felt like after all I did to him, I should die in his name, and burn forever in hell. But no, he died for me already. I felt like I couldn't accept it, because I didn't have anything to offer back that was of same, or even similar value. His life is too much, and even if I gave him my life, it wouldn't total to much. This debt I could never repay, is better never to owe. I mean, if I was there, and I was there yelling: Don't kill him! I would feel better. I feel so bad that he already died for me.
I accepted the second night of camp. I felt like if I had to make him suffer so much, I better not be regretting that he died for me. I was worth so much to him, he died for me! If I refuse, it would be an insult, and he would have died in vain. Funny thing is, he chose to stay on that cross. He had the power to come down, but he chose to stay up there. To die for us. I was willing to go to hell, I deserved it pretty well. But now to accept this gift? To have my LORD die for ME? I didn't nail him. He stayed and died to free us. Because he loves us. I didn't kill him, he killed himself, for us. What I did when I accepted him, when I said "I do", It was an act of obedience. We are worth dying for, and we do value much in His eyes. When I felt like I wasn't worth his pain, I was telling god he was making a mistake to die for me. God never makes mistakes. He died, for us, for our lives, because of true love, love that never fails. Who are we to say we have a tough time? He has had it a million times worse. But he died, so we could be free, to let us be loved.
I'm back to square one, I realize if I had never wondered all these things, the message would have been the same. God loves you, and yes, we don't deserve any of it, but it happened because of his amazing grace. To him, we are destined to do more, we are precious, even when we feel like we are less than we are. We are saved again by Jesus, like God saved his people in the red sea. That's why, I feel the same love even if I was way simpler. We all feel God's love the same way, but some of us find out "the hard way" or the different way. We all accept this gift for different reasons, but in the end, he is still always the same, our God, our Lord, our father and friend. He Loves you. God, Loves you. That, is our gift.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
I've always loved God with all I was, and yes, the guilt was always there that I felt I needed him only when I was upset, but the fact was always there that he had already forgiven you even before you were created. I loved him enough that he created me, gave me the power of life, the ability to do anything I please. But to give me life again through his own death on the cross? It made me think of the story of Moses and the red sea. God had freed them from Egypt, and the people look at that and say bless the lord. But for him to free them from their doubts by parting the red sea when the soldiers from Egypt came chasing after them, and save them again? He killed the soldiers with the sea, and freed them again, forever. God created us, made us out of his own image. We sinned, let him down over and over, again and again, time and time. We say, oh God is there, we need not be afraid. We feel like God is just something you use, like a light. We praise him everyday, saying I love you, you love me. We stand and sing hallelujah, he saved us. Then you go and face these huge doubts, when your parents tell you your grades aren't good enough, when they say you can do better, when they make you say you have done something wrong out loud.
How hard is it to say we did something wrong? To say we are sinners? We all know we have. We are sinners. But to say it, hurts. It makes you feel like you're less than you are, small, useless. Same thing with God, admitting you are a sinner, isn't the hardest thing in the world, but to actually say that, makes you realize we are way less strong, way less powerful than we think we are. We are tiny people, we are nothing compared to the world around us. Look, at the universe. Look at the galaxies, look at the stars at night. We are nothing, nothing more than a speck sitting on a stone, gazing up at infinity and beyond, wondering what we are. By the time you read the first part of this post, maybe about 100 stars have been created. Snap, new star, new star, new star... and he puts them in place by name. New baby is born every second. New life, new life, new life. You know how on a hike, you look up and say "this is amazing"? You look at the stars and say the same. Your look at your pastor, your bible, and what do you say? When God made the world, he said this is good. The world, the infinity, good. He made Adam, the sinner, the tempted. Sin took over him, and he knew that even before anything happened. Before this post existed, he looked at the sinner he created, and said : This is very good. God looks at us, and he sees the holy spirit. He sees us past our sin, and sees perfection. God made a drawing, breathed life in it, and instead of crumpling it up because it was ugly, he hung it up on his wall, in a frame, and gazed at us and said THIS IS VERY GOOD. Like we are a big deal, like we are of value.
Doubts sent by the devil. We feel like we are messed up, unloved, but here comes Jesus. Do you go spreading the gospel like: God made you! He made your messed up life for a reason! Yay! Or do you say: God loves you.(?) I felt Jesus' death was something that saved me from hell, something that was never going to be understood, he did because he wanted us with him in heaven, he gave us this gift because he loves us. Jesus was my passage to heaven. One day into camp, I felt like This gift wasn't something I could accept. Who am I? To take the gift of his love? To hold the dagger up to his neck and kill him? To accept this gift meant to kill him, to hammer him into the cross. And then there was fear. I have been told I wasn't worthy too many times, and now for him to die, and say, here, take this. It's your key to heaven. To ask your lord almighty to die for you? A little selfish huh. He is worth so much more than I am. There is a billion like me, and I am one out of trillions of his creations. Why do I deserve to be saved? I love him, and that's why I don't want to bear the title: I killed Jesus.
So I stand here, holding his life, the most powerful love in my hands. I have never been truly loved before, and now I hold this most blinding love, powerful force in my own hands? I couldn't put it in me, I felt like that was really selfish and mean to take his life, just for your own in heaven. To make him suffer so much, the crown of thorns pressed against his head, the blood, the 39 whips, the three days in hell! For what, your eternal life in heaven? I felt like I had no right to take his life, but he has every right to take mine. To die for me? I felt like after all I did to him, I should die in his name, and burn forever in hell. But no, he died for me already. I felt like I couldn't accept it, because I didn't have anything to offer back that was of same, or even similar value. His life is too much, and even if I gave him my life, it wouldn't total to much. This debt I could never repay, is better never to owe. I mean, if I was there, and I was there yelling: Don't kill him! I would feel better. I feel so bad that he already died for me.
I accepted the second night of camp. I felt like if I had to make him suffer so much, I better not be regretting that he died for me. I was worth so much to him, he died for me! If I refuse, it would be an insult, and he would have died in vain. Funny thing is, he chose to stay on that cross. He had the power to come down, but he chose to stay up there. To die for us. I was willing to go to hell, I deserved it pretty well. But now to accept this gift? To have my LORD die for ME? I didn't nail him. He stayed and died to free us. Because he loves us. I didn't kill him, he killed himself, for us. What I did when I accepted him, when I said "I do", It was an act of obedience. We are worth dying for, and we do value much in His eyes. When I felt like I wasn't worth his pain, I was telling god he was making a mistake to die for me. God never makes mistakes. He died, for us, for our lives, because of true love, love that never fails. Who are we to say we have a tough time? He has had it a million times worse. But he died, so we could be free, to let us be loved.
I'm back to square one, I realize if I had never wondered all these things, the message would have been the same. God loves you, and yes, we don't deserve any of it, but it happened because of his amazing grace. To him, we are destined to do more, we are precious, even when we feel like we are less than we are. We are saved again by Jesus, like God saved his people in the red sea. That's why, I feel the same love even if I was way simpler. We all feel God's love the same way, but some of us find out "the hard way" or the different way. We all accept this gift for different reasons, but in the end, he is still always the same, our God, our Lord, our father and friend. He Loves you. God, Loves you. That, is our gift.
Please email me at hopeforthestargazers@gmail.com, comment and share.
Till next time,
Victoria Lee
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