Hanlod

Unpopular Messaging

Buzz, buzz. My head turns. I think, Wow I’m popular. Someone wants to talk to me. This kind of thinking is just setting me up for failure, but that’s where my mind goes first. I reach for my phone, the tension building. Who will it be? I look at the screen. At this point, I see one of three things. Either someone sent me their snapchat streak for the day (pretty likely), my mom texted me (very likely), or I received a news article update (extremely likely). Okay so I am not a huge texter, and I don’t really start conversations. That doesn’t really give me the right to feel even the slightest bit upset that no one texts me, but still my brain goes there first. I get excited and let down all in the span of a minute.

When I get a snapchat message, I get happy. I get to communicate with my friends solely through pictures of our faces or of our immediate surroundings. It’s fun to see their faces every day, especially when I don’t really get to see them in person. Sometimes, though, I’m just not feeling the whole send a quick picture just to keep the streak going. Pretty much every “conversation” on there is surface-level. Very rarely do we actually send messages. Sometimes I just want to delete the app because I don’t want to deal with it and I don’t want the distraction. On the other hand, I don’t want to miss out. I don’t want to lose contact with my friends. It is a slippery slope.

When my mom texts me, I am happy to talk to her. She is so encouraging and lovely. She is my best friend, and I love her very much. The common teenager does not usually only receive texts from their mom. Or they would not admit that. Well, I am not the common teenager. I have never been one to hang out with my friends only to take pictures and stare at my phone screen. When I was in middle school and I was hanging out with my friend group, they would be texting a bunch of people and snapchatting and instagramming. I would just look at my phone and pretend to be doing something because that is less awkward than sitting there quietly not staring at a phone screen. I would have looked like a total outcast. Needless to say, my friendships with those people dwindled.

I have never really felt like I fit in with people my age. I don’t want to go hang out only to be on my phone or take 20 million pictures or talk about what’s on my phone or the 20 million pictures I just took and which one I should post. Being a teenager means that yes, I have thought about those things and I do work hard to come up with great captions for my Instagram pictures. That is not all I do though. That is not all I want to do either. I want to build relationships and not worry about if my text has the right tone to it, or if I’m interpreting what someone else sent me in the correct way. That means that I do not utilize social media the same way as other kids my age or for the same reasons. When I post something, it is because I like it and I want to share it. It is not because I think it will get me a lot of likes. Again, I’m not saying I don’t think about the likes and stuff, but I don’t make them my sole purpose. I am not saying that all kids my age are only in it for the likes, but that is how it feels to me sometimes.

When my phone lights up with a news article update, I am downright disappointed. It’s not that I don’t care about what is going on around me. It is that I am usually not pleased with what I read. I would also much rather be getting a message from a friend of mine or my mom. I hate all of the political crap going on in the country. I am not going to get too political, but every time I get a message, I pray that it is not about something stupid that Trump has done that is going to get us all killed or restrict our liberties or make it easier for people to get guns and terrorize neighborhoods and schools everywhere. Okay, rant over. I am just frustrated with most of the news I receive and what makes the news nowadays. I love it when an article shows up on my phone from National Geographic or another outlet about something cool someone has done or discovered. I also love stories about animals, but I don’t like them if they’re sad.

I just want the world to be a better place. I want it to be a place where everyone is equal in everyone’s minds. I want it to be a place where animals aren’t dying because of crap humans are putting into the environment. I want it to be a place where people want to come together and talk: face-to-face. I want it to be a place where positivity lights up the news and everyone’s lives. I want it to be a place where people don’t feel the need to be on their phones all of the time.

That thinking may be unrealistic, but I don’t think it has to be. It can start with you and me. One thing I can do is not complain about things not happening for me that I don’t even want, like receiving text messages. I don’t text, so why do I want people to text me? Or maybe that’s just paradoxical thinking. Anyways, I can be confident in who I am and what I want and look on the bright side. I can also not compromise who I am to feel more comfortable around people. I can speak up and form relationships. I don’t have to be passive and wait for people to get off their phones to hang out with me. I can get involved in politics in my area. If I don’t like what is going on, I can use my voice in that way too. Lastly, I can try to change what makes something newsworthy. I want to be a journalist, and I do really enjoy writing the big stories concerning politics, scandals, and anything else that shows up on the local and national news. However, I want the challenge of finding a personal interest story. I want to write about something positive and potentially make a difference. I want to learn how helping others and journalism go together and make a career out of it. I will work on that. For now, I will try to be more positive and confident. Because I, like you, am awesome! I, like you, can do it!

Young Dreams

Today is the day I tell you about a friend of mine named Mocha. He is really cute, tiny, and an all-around good little creature. Okay, okay I will tell you. Mocha is my chihuahua. He is so incredibly adorable. I will try to stop writing about how cute he is but just know that it will be hard.

When I was little, I wanted a dog of my own so badly. I would walk my stuffed animal around with a leash and pretend he was real live dog. I told my mom I wanted a dog so bad and that I would buy him and take care of him. Well, I actually wanted a girl, but in life you don’t always get what you want. Anyways, I started searching online for puppies. You probably know this, but puppies are ridiculously more expensive than adult dogs. When I first started my search, I was looking for a bulldog or corgi puppy (my favorite breeds) for an affordable cost. That means I would be able to work something out based on my 10-year-old allowance and any extra money from birthdays, chores, Christmas, etc. Needless to say, the puppies I found online that were those breeds were WAY too expensive. Although after buying the dog I bought, it really would not have been that much more.

The second phase of my search took place at Petland. I know; Petland is not known for their great treatment of animals. When I was 10 I didn’t really understand that, but at least I got my puppy out of a bad situation even if that did mean giving money to the enemy. I went there with an idea of what I could spend based on my allowance and monthly payments I could make to my mom to pay off the dog. I wanted a small dog that would behave and be loving and sweet. Basically the dream dog. We looked at one dog that was really cute but a little too wound up for me.

Next I saw him, this tiny, black and brown chihuahua that was so incredibly and wonderfully cute. I didn’t expect myself to go for a chihuahua, but he freaking stole my heart. Colleen, the lady who was helping us with our search, told us that he was $700. That is a lot, I know. I really loved him, and my mom and I were trying to see if I could make it work. I called my dad to get his opinion. I ended the call in tears because my dad didn’t approve. He told me that he didn’t want me to become a stuck-up girl with a lap dog and be in debt. That really tore me up, but I knew that puppy was the one. I had already given him the name Mocha, and it was perfect. My mom’s card was approved for the purchase, and I took that as a sign. A family had tried to buy him the day before and their card was declined. That was another sign. Basically the fates aligned and now I have my adorable, beautiful puppy. The price did increase though because Petland makes you buy all of this puppy care stuff, so that may not have been a sign. It doesn’t matter though because I still got my puppy.

Mocha is now seven years old. I am proud to say that I paid him off in six months. I take care of his medical bills and his food and water. The water really breaks the budget, but we make it work. Actually, my mom has pitched in with his food a lot and the water comes with the house, so I am not completely a financially independent mother. Mocha is a little bit obsessed with me, but that is just how all dogs are. Sometimes he gets annoying and clingy, but I love him all the same.

I am telling this story because I wanted something so bad when I was 10 years old that I just did it. I followed a “dream,” if you will. Because of a decision I made at such a young age, I have learned more about responsibility, love, and happiness than I ever would have without taking a chance. I am so thankful for my puppy and proud of my 10-year-old self. I look back and want to approach all of my life like I did back then. I want to take risks and be responsible. I want to defy the odds. Every kid says that they will take care of the new family pet, but then the mom always ends up doing it all. I stuck to my word. Yes, my mom has helped out some because that is in her nature, but Mocha is my dog. This story may show you something in your life that you need to just go for. You need to approach your situation as a 10-year-old with a dream. If you try that, what you are able to accomplish might surprise you.

A Mother’s Prayer

The kids! The kids! My body was shaking, but only one thing was circling through my head. I needed to find the kids and get them to a safe place. I couldn’t believe what was happening. The sky was falling apart. White was everywhere. It was in my hair, clouding my vision, and covering the buildings. The ground was rumbling. Outside of my home, I craned my head to see as far as I could in all directions. My kids were nowhere to be found. “Mama, Mama, is it snowing?” My head snapped around so fast I’m surprised it was still intact. I saw two chocolate brown eyes staring up at me.

I pulled my little Octavia into a giant hug. My heart was beating out of my chest. “No, honey, it’s not,” I said, choking back soft sobs. She was an innocent child; she didn’t deserve to feel the fear I felt. When I knew I could control myself, I pleaded, “Octavia, baby, go inside and hide under the table. It will be a game. I will come find you in a little bit. Just promise me you’ll stay there, ok?”

“Ok Mama, but are you sure this isn’t snow?”

“Yes, baby, I’m sure,” I responded, kissing the top of her head. With one final look of disbelief, Octavia bounded off to hide.

Turning back, Octavia squealed, “This is going to be a fun game Mama!” Her long, brown hair disappeared around the corner.

Once I knew she was safely inside, I refocused my attention. I needed to find Augustus and quickly. Where could he be? I racked my brain. He loved to play games with his friends, but usually he would be back by now. I longed to see Gus’s tan face and dark brown eyes. My heart ached with the thought of him getting hurt. It was decided- the end of the world was right now, and one of my children wasn’t with me. Constantly I prayed, “Please keep Gus safe. Please stop this destruction. Please bring my baby back to me.”

Holding a pot over my head, I set off down the cobblestone path toward the field where the boys play. Debris was falling from the sky. Surely they wouldn’t still be outside. The columns along the road were shaking; I needed to hurry. My legs carried me as fast as they could. Just when I thought I was used to the vibration under my feet, the ground would jerk, and I would lose my footing. By the time I reached Gus, my knees and elbows were scraped and bloody. In the distance, through the ash, I saw a head full of scraggly brown hair. “Gus! Augustus! Do you hear me?!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, desperation eminent in my voice. Slowly I saw his head turn. Frantically, I waved my arms in the air as I continued running towards him. The moment he recognized me, Augustus grabbed a rock and held it over his head. Then, he sprinted to me.

After he emerged from my hug, Gus shouted, “Mom! What is happening? Is Octavia ok? Are we going to die?” Older and less naive, he knew this wasn’t snow falling from the sky. He could smell the burning air. He knew what I knew; Vulcan was punishing us.

“Octavia is home. Now you are with me. We can get through this,” I consoled him, although I wasn’t so sure. I held him to me, stroking his wavy brown hair. After a moment, everything came back to me. All I knew was that we needed to get back to the hut. Once Octavia, Gus, and I were together, we could hide somewhere until whatever was happening ended. I still didn’t know if it was going to stop. “We need to hurry home.” With that, we both sprinted back towards our house.

Every few minutes, a tremor would vibrate up from the earth sending Gus and me to the ground. Each time, we would get back up and dust ourselves off. There was no time to complain or pout. We were just concerned with surviving long enough to get back to Octavia. Columns were crashing to the ground left and right. Gus and I needed to be ready to jump out of the way. Our little hut was in sight when I heard the crack of a column to my left. I tried to move, but the stone fell quickly on my leg, trapping me in place. I was in shock. I needed to be there for my children. I couldn’t leave them. Gus ran to my side, tears rushing down his cheeks.

“Go find your sister and crouch in the corner of the hut, under the table. I don’t want to be away from you, but you have to go. You need to get through this and help Octavia. The two of you can survive this. I love you both so much! Make sure Octavia knows that.”

“Mom, I can get you out! I can’t leave you!” Gus insisted. He grabbed my arm and frantically started to pull, staring at a me with desperate, love-filled eyes.

“No, honey. You have to make it home to Octavia. How would she feel if neither one of us came back? You two can make it. I believe you can! I love you and will always be with you,” I croaked through sobs. Gus bent over and gave me a kiss and a hug. He got up and jogged away. When he reached our street, he looked back over his shoulder. I saw his tear-stricken face. My eyes welled up, and I blew him a final kiss. Gus caught it and put it in his pocket. After blowing me a kiss of his own, he sprinted off with purpose.

No longer having to be brave for Augustus, I let out a cry of pain. The column was crushing my left leg. There was no one around to help me. Everyone else had either left the city or was hiding in a building. Just then, I realized I dropped my pot when the column came down on me. There was nothing protecting my head. Ash was coming down all around me, covering my body. Before long, I would be buried in it and forgotten. “Why are you doing this?!” I yelled to the gods. My voice echoed across the empty path. Silence followed. All I could hear was the slow grumbling of the earth and my heavy breathing. In the distance, closer to Mount Vesuvius, I could hear shrieks. Others must have been in similar situations to me.

Boom! The deafening noise reverberated up from the ground, sending a column on my right side down to the ground. I moved my head just in time; whack! With a crack, it painfully struck my right shoulder. I let out a screech of agony and frustration. All I wanted was to be there for my children. Now I couldn’t do that. My fate was to stay trapped in the middle of the street until death took me. Are Octavia and Augustus ok? Not knowing how my kids were was eating me up inside. The house is sturdy; they will be ok.

All I could do was pray, hope, and wait. Every second I was praying that my kids were safe and the world wasn’t ending. I was hoping that Octavia and Augustus would make it out alive and be able to live long and happy lives. I was waiting for my death. August 24, 79, was to be the last day of my existence. My future would end in the ruins.

Several hours I waited. The ash was covering me from head to toe. To keep it out of my mouth and nose, I tore my shirt and covered my face with the fabric. Soon enough, my body was disappearing under the rubble and dust. I looked around at my city. Pompeii was destroyed. Buildings were falling apart, the sky was dark, and the smell of fire was everywhere. Time passed slowly. With numbness slowly settling over my body, I could no longer feel anything, let alone pain. As I lie staring up at the sky, the white flakes began to collect on my eyelashes, forcing me to close my eyes.

Darkness was everywhere. For a few moments, I could feel an intense heat, despite the layers of ash shrouding me. In an instant, I was gone. My dying prayer was for Octavia and Gus to live long enough to make new families and live through this horrible disaster:

Please protect and guide my children

as they walk the path of life.

Send them my undying love,

and never let them forget

how much I love them.

Little Victories

Okay so growing up sucks. I don’t even have to fully grow up yet and I’m already tired of it. I really am. I get so stressed and nervous to do adult-like things. Today I had to go to the car servicing place to get my car serviced. Obviously. I had no idea what to do. You have to pull into the open walkway type thing, and I felt like that was something I should never do. I don’t feel like it’s normal to drive through a building even if it has an opening large enough for a car. I was obviously confused. I asked a lady if I had to pull farther or just park there. I felt some judgment and attitude from her. Both are things that I don’t appreciate when I have no idea what I’m doing and just need some guidance. Anyways, a lady came over and started looking at the car. She took the mileage and asked what I wanted to do. I needed an oil change and a safety inspection because I had been driving around with expired plates and didn’t even know until now. Which of course now that I know, I’m going to get pulled over the instant I start driving.

So here I am, starting to sweat with a puzzled look on my face, and I am waiting to hear the verdict. There were three other things the car needed. Did I mention that I had tennis in an hour and was trying to squeeze this in? Well that’s what was happening. I started sweating a bit more. My tennis bag and water bottle were still in the car, which they had already pulled into the garage thingy. I told the lady that I needed to get those out. Keep in mind, during this whole experience I have NO IDEA what I am doing. When this happens, I get very awkward- more so than my usual awkward charm. She walked me back there to get my stuff out. I called my mom to tell her the new things that needed to be done. Blah, blah, blah. She came to pick me up to go to tennis. Then we had to go back to pick up the car before I had to be at work at 6:00.

I am writing about this because yes I did just conquer some form of adulting by going by myself to do this, but I also was sweating and stressing and unsure of what to do the entire time. Then my mom had to come get me. That’s not necessarily conquering car service like a pro. Okay so I am kind of beating myself up about this. I need to look on the bright side: I got through it without preparation. That says a lot for me because I am a planner and usually need to know every step of what to do before I get myself into something. So I did it. Yay! I want to be a pro at everything even if I’ve never done anything like it before. There is nothing wrong with that until it makes you a nervous wreck who feels stupid for not knowing the ins and outs of car maintenance. I need to be proud. Which I am. I took a step into the adult world. I don’t have to be completely ready yet, and that’s okay.

Wow, I hope that was as inspirational as it seemed to me. Even if you don’t view it that way, it helped me change my thinking about how I handled what I would consider to be a stressful situation not necessarily with ease, but hey, I got through it.

Maybe this will be something that is comparable to something going on in your own life. You’re never too old or too young to feel stressed about a new experience. Cherish each little victory. Learn to look on the bright side. And yes I know- that is way easier said than done.

Turning Over a New Tree

Food and Netflix are really near and dear to my heart. They are not the best for personal health however. I was raised to not waste food and finish the food on my plate. With that mentality comes overeating and lots and lots of bloating. Recently, I finally felt like I had had enough. I was not feeling as confident in my own skin and that upset me. In the past, I have said that I was going to work out every day and eat healthier. Shortly after “making that change,” I would relax in my bed and watch Netflix, eat dinner, and eat dessert. Well, that is not me anymore.

Starting the first of July (almost a week ago), I have been eating healthier. My mom and I have made some delicious meals. One of which was amazing lemon-garlic shrimp and grits. I will add the link to the recipe because it was freaking delicious. If I want sweets, I have a little bit of dark chocolate. Or I made nice cream the other night. Never heard of nice cream? It is a delicious and easy treat. All you do is freeze a banana (peel it first- I learned that the hard way). Then you blend it into an ice-cream-like substance. I am sure there are recipes where you can add more to it, but just that was pretty darn great. Next time I’m going to add peanut butter. Yum!

Now for exercise. I have tennis four of the five weekdays, and I get a really good work out doing that. For good consistency, I have been doing some sort of an ab “workout” before bed. Sometimes that means getting on the Nike Training Club app (it is great BTW) and doing a 15 minute ab workout. Other times that means doing a one minute plank. I change it up, but I at least do something. Today, since I don’t have tennis, I am going to do some Just Dance on my wii. It sounds silly, but it is actually a good workout. It is also very very fun. I probably look like an idiot, but I am too busy burning calories to care.

I am writing this post not to show off or pat myself on the back. I am extremely proud of myself though. I am sharing this because it is never too early or late to work on yourself. I have a major problem with following through with things in my personal life. At school I work hard and succeed because I want good grades. At home, however, I don’t get grades. I get lazy because I feel like I can’t stick with changes I want to make. This thought process has been perpetuated from time and time again of not following through, not finishing what I start, not doing that one minute plank before bed. I finally hit a point where I was ready to commit. I am ready to feel better physically and mentally. I want to feel good about myself. I want to learn that it is okay to not overeat. I want better for myself. I know that this is what a lot of people want. I would hope that everyone has enough respect for themselves to work on themselves to live a better life.

There are easy steps to start. For me, I bought a journal called I Totally Got This. It has motivational quotes and is designed to help you follow through with changing your life. For my first entry into this journal, I lamented to God. Not everyone believes in a higher power or feels like they have a relationship with their higher power. That is okay, but speaking from experience, building that relationship is extremely comforting and powerful. I lamented to God (an idea preached at my church on Psalm 88) about the way my life had been and how I was going to change it. I mourned the way my life used to be. That was an extremely powerful experience. It is okay to mourn to your higher power or those around you about change in your life. For me, it gave me the confidence and support I needed to make the change in my life that I have been dying to make for a while. It is beneficial to remember that if you are going to lament to a friend or parent, your concerns and complaints can weigh on them. When you lament to God or whoever/whatever you believe in, you can have courage knowing that he/she/it can take it.

I have only just started this new journey in my life. It may not have been long, but I have made great strides. I have already gained confidence. I have started this blog, which I actually first created around January of this year and first had the idea for several years ago. I have eaten healthier and stopped myself on multiple occasions from eating after I knew I was full. I have started multiple projects in my room that I will share with you a little later. I am making strides, and it couldn’t feel any better. I hope this has given you some ideas for starting that thing that you’ve been dying to start. I hope you can believe in yourself and learn what you are capable of.

Lemon-Garlic Shrimp and Grits

Trying

I am trying hard to succeed
I want the praise and attention
For my hard work and dedication

I am trying hard to win
I should be there by now
Why can’t I do it?

I am trying hard to stay positive
But I’m just so angry
At the game, at my opponent

At myself

I am trying hard to smile
To be proud
To be okay

I am trying hard to breathe deeply
The panic is climbing
My crying is deafening

I am trying hard to look at myself
In a positive light
With love and affection

I am trying hard to take away the pain
And make myself heal
And make myself comfortable

No more threats
No more pain

But no more achievement

I am trying hard to fall in love
With the sport I once loved
With the person I have become

I am trying hard to branch out
To break free
To be okay

I really want to be okay

I am trying but I am failing
I need help
I don’t know what I want

I am trying hard to make up my mind
I am trying hard to change my life
I am trying…

Am I trying too hard?

This Too Shall Pass

Time
Ticking, tocking
Short hand
Long hand
Seconds, minutes, hours

It doesn’t take long
For greatness
For failure
For happiness
For despair

Win a tournament
Time passes
Break a bone
Time passes
Happy together
Time passes
Lose a loved one
Time passes

This too shall pass

Time
Doesn’t wait
Doesn’t stop
It’s always moving
Always there

Learn from time
Don’t wait
Don’t stop
Keep moving
Stay here
In the moment

Because

This too shall pass

Lost in the Headlines

“Mama, I’m scared,” the child whispered, tears glistening in his eyes.

“I know honey, but it is okay. Everything is going to be okay,” his mother softly spoke in his ear. She didn’t know how this had happened and couldn’t fully process the danger they were in. All she knew was that she had to remain calm and strong for her son. She prayed silently for that strength and remained focused on staying hidden. Her heart beat on.

In the darkness, the mother could only slightly make out the man pacing in the front of the lobby of the building. She and her son were crouched underneath a desk towards the back of the lobby and in a small cubicle. Today was the day that her son needed to be picked up early from preschool because he was having a hard time; he was not playing nicely with the other kids. He had told her he didn’t want to go to preschool every morning, that the other kids were mean, but she had no choice because of work. She had to bring him with her to work today because she didn’t get off until 4:00 pm. It was 3:38 pm.

Before this moment, the man walking around the building had ultimately been a quiet and seemingly nice individual. He always turned his work in by the deadline and minded his own business. His behavior today came as a complete shock to the mother. She tried to identify any warning signs in her mind, but she came up empty. She thought to herself, How could he be capable of such a horrible thing? What has compelled him to do this? She couldn’t dwell on why this was happening. All she could focus on was how to make it out still breathing. She always thought her work would be the death of her but not in such a literal sense.

As her mind was running in circles, trying to come up with a viable plan to save her son, most importantly, and if possible, herself, she was struck with the intense sound of a gunshot. Immediately she covered her son’s ears. He was shaking. She put her arms around his tiny body and held tight, not allowing anything to take her focus from him. She buried her head in his neck, unable to look up to see where the man was now. In her mental count, that was the fifth shot fired. Another victim. She hadn’t heard a scream this time, though. Maybe that was a good sign. Ever so slightly quicker, her heart beat on.

Still not able to look up, the mother heard footsteps approaching. Her fear threatened to overwork her heart and make her breathing shallow. She suppressed it to stay as calm as she could for her son. She could still feel his body trembling beneath her. She wished there was something she could do, but she was at a loss. She couldn’t let anything happen to her son. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she didn’t make it. Her husband had left a few years earlier, and her parents were living in a different state. The only “family” they had in town were the kind neighbors in their apartment building. Where would he go? she thought. How would he live? The mother hadn’t drafted a will yet. She was still in her late twenties. She didn’t think that would be something she would have to worry about at this age. She silently prayed that he would be okay.

The footsteps were getting louder and louder until they stopped, seemingly close to her and her son, but she could not check. She couldn’t dare risk it. Then she heard it. The man called her name. Please, God. This cannot be happening. Please. She didn’t dare move a muscle. Her heartbeat sped up to a continual, loud thumping, and she was afraid it would jeopardize her cover. It seemed like several minutes went by, but it was probably only seconds, when she felt the cold metal of the gun’s barrel touch the exposed skin on her arm. Her breath caught in her throat and her entire body tensed. Please, God, no. I can’t die today. Please. Her heart, now palpitating uncontrollably fast, beat on.

The man got close to her ear and snarled, “Get up. Now!” With her mind still trying to comprehend his motive, she shakily unwrapped her arms from her child.

She whispered to him, “Stay where you are. I love you so much.” Fearing those were her last words, she slowly faced her perpetrator.

His face had a menacing glow in the dark cubicle. The mother did not know what to say, so she remained silent. The man looked her up and down. His eyes were glowing intensely. He seemed to be enjoying what he was doing. It was like he had no concern for human life. That realization did nothing to appease the mother’s fear. Still, her heart beat on.

Finally the man spoke, “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I don’t know why you are doing this.” It was a simple statement and the utter truth. The mother still did not understand why the man was being so cruel. What had possessed him to act in such a horrible way?

“Are you seriously telling me you don’t know?” The man paused, waiting for a response, but all he received was a blank stare from the mother. “This company has been out to get me from the moment I started. It is like I never existed. No one speaks to me, and I have not gotten a raise in the fifteen years I have been here. You are the only one who has ever even smiled at me. This,” he said, gesturing to the darkened office littered with fearful employees and the ones that had already lost their lives, “is the only way for them to notice me.”

In the distance, the sound of sirens echoed across the quiet building. When the man heard it, he lifted the gun to the mother. Her eyes flashed with the understanding of what was about to happen. Her mouth opened with the intention to speak her apology. She wanted to tell the man that he was valued on this earth, that he was not invisible. She wanted to say she understood his feeling of not being appreciated and that she could help him get back on his feet if he would just put the gun down. She really wanted to say she was sorry. No sound was able to escape her lips as the man sent a straight shot right to her chest. The mother fell back to the ground. Her heart stopped.

The child, rocking softly, heard the shot ring out. He was too scared to move. He was too scared to see if his mother was okay. He was too scared to be there for her. That was his biggest regret. The child began crying softly. The man walked towards him, knowing that he was upset. I don’t want this child to feel the pain I have felt. I need to put him out of his misery, the man thought. It was with this logic that the man aimed the gun at the child and pulled the trigger. Another heart stopped beating.

The headlines flashed across TV screens and computer screens and phone screens. Eight are dead, including a young mother and her child. A man has opened fire in his workplace. More facts will be offered as soon as they become available.

The man has been found. He was taken into custody. A name is not known at this time. The victims’ families are grieving. The country offers its support.

Michael David Lutton has been identified as the shooter. He was using a gun that was licensed to him. He is mentally ill. There is talk of new regulations on guns. Controversy over gun control has consumed the country. The families of the victims are grieving. The community has created shrines with flowers and stuffed animals to those who were murdered.

Michael David Lutton has been found guilty. He is facing the death penalty. Controversy over the death penalty has consumed the country. Does Lutton deserve it? The families of the victims are just now starting to move on.

Lutton has just lost his life.

Another heart stopped beating.

The case is closed. The country has moved on.

The man received the attention he wanted. His name was plastered on media all over the country. His actions garnered him notoriety.

Flowers at the shrines wilted. Life went on.

Faking it What?

A little introduction into the world of Faking it Made.

I have been planning to start this blog for a long time now. It is actually happening. Get excited folks. I know I am. The title of my blog might seem a little strange. I know I owe you an explanation. In my life, I am a pretty nervous person. I worry and stress and sometimes freak out. I tend to put a lot of pressure on myself. I want to do well in life and never make mistakes. Pretty delusional thinking, right? The problem with this approach to life is that I don’t know how to do everything right and I will inevitably make mistakes. One of my favorite mantras is “fake it ’til you make it.” I really take that to heart. If you feign confidence, you will feel more confident. If you hold your head up high, you will feel capable of anything. This is the way I want to approach life. I want to be confident in myself even when I don’t truly feel it. I want to step out of my comfort zone. I want to fake it made.

Truth be told, I am not entirely sure what this blog will become. I do know that I will do my best and have fun with it. I want to become a better writer and work on my vulnerability. What better way to work on those things than to start a blog? I hope you enjoy the site. Even if you don’t, I know that I will have a lot of fun creating it. It would be great if you would come along for the journey.

I will give you more details about myself as my site continues to develop. For right now, all you need to know is that I am a pretty happy person who is a perfectionist and loves animals. I don’t actually know the “right” way to “blog”. Is that an excessive amount of quotation marks? I really don’t know. I do know that I will fake it made and hopefully learn more about myself and what I am capable of. Hopefully.