Hello world! We are finally connected! This is my first official blog post!!!!!!
I apologise for my mess of a site, it’s a bit rough around the edges—like a half-finished map with smudged ink.
I am still currently learning HTML and hope to get better with it as time goes on. Though I don't really aspire to be a top coder.. so I don't mind help every now and then! In fact, I don't think a lot of us would survive without help.. all of the coding we use, comes from somewhere else!
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The deeper complexities of it all!! The cryptic syntax that feels like a riddle wrapped in a enigma!
I'll leave that to the code wizards and digital alchemists.
My mind, you see… dances to a different rhythm! I love drawing, endlessly repeating songs that fit my mood, & creating anything that expresses my spirit.
I love pastel rainbows and the color pink; I feel like my emotions are deeply connected to the colors I see in life. My brain is incredibly overactive, and I've spent many years daydreaming about countless stories with millions of different scenarios. My worlds feel endless, as if the canvas is infinite. Every thought of mine feels like a brush stroke in the grand mural of existence.
Do you ever feel like you speak too much to yourself sometimes? I did all the time until I saw this random video one day by "Bo Burnham" called, 'Left Brain, Right Brain.' I could go on forever about it but I'll let the video speak for itself. Definitely give it a watch whenever you can!
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"I am both the architect and the artist. I've walked the tightrope between these realms, understanding that to truly represent myself, I must embrace the duality. The left brain gives me the words, the right, the poetry."
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I’ve always been drawn to blogging in some form or another, perhaps because of my deep appreciation for communication and connection. I always thought there was a lot of magic involved in that we could connect to strangers from hundreds of miles away; There’s something profoundly meaningful about sharing stories and experiences—pieces of a life lived—whether it’s for my children to one day stumble upon and find inspiration in, or for a stranger out there who might see a reflection of their own journey in mine.
This blog feels like a sacred corner of the internet, a quiet retreat where I can pour out my heart without the noise and exposure of larger platforms. It’s personal, intimate, and far removed from the performative nature of social media.
My first taste of this kind of expression came from Neopets back in 2004, (oh i feel my age..) when I was just 6 or 7 years old.
(If you click the banner above, it'll take you directly to Neopets! It'll also give me a cool bonus when you join so it's a win/win for the both of us, YOU get to join a really cool website, and I get a little goodie from Neopets. >:3 )
..Funny enough my Mother is the one who introduced me to it... only for her to years later, introduce me to Facebook as well.
I see where I got my online socialization skills from.
I always wondered where she originally heard of Neopets.. From a friend who also had a kid, maybe?? It was the early 2000's!!!-- Not sure on what kind of advertising they had back then.
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While we're on the discussion of Neopets... It was where I got to learn about HTML for the first time, my first coding experience came from their personal guide they posted, (Taught me how to Copy + Paste. LOL) Since they had their own personal guide on there that I'm sure that's what really boosted the interest of tons of kids back then!!
There was no pressure to go viral, no race for likes or validation—just the freedom to explore my own narrative It's like,
Blogging gives us this perfect excuse to really dive deep into what matters to us, to explore our own narratives in a way that's both intimate and expansive.
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Social media? It's all about the quick scroll, the fleeting moment of attention. It's like a fast-food version of human connection - quick, easy, but not very nourishing.
Blogging, on the other hand, is like a home-cooked meal. It takes time, it's crafted with love, and it's meant to be savored. When someone decides to read your blog, they're choosing to invest time in you, to really get to know you, not just skim the surface of your life.
I’ve never understood how people don’t feel compelled to document their lives like sacred texts. How can you not obsess over archiving every song that’s ever carved itself into your bones? Those melodies are more than noise—they’re echoes of who you were at 2 a.m. in a dimly lit bedroom, or screaming lyrics in a car with the windows down, or sobbing to a chorus that felt like it was written just for you. They’re artifacts. Why wouldn’t you cling to them?
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It doesn't bother you that you don't take constant photographs of experiences that may never happen again? Tomorrow is never promised, the brain is a wild thing and memories are so cherished. Life is so cherished no matter what. Eevry single human is unique and has so many stories that will never get the chance to be exposed to the air. I'm curious about it all.
Photographs, too—how do you let moments dissolve like smoke? A sunset, a laugh, a hand held too briefly, a meal shared in silence. These are fragile constellations, gone in a blink. The brain is an unreliable curator, rewriting memories to fit its own myths. What happens when the details fade? When the faces blur? When you can’t remember the exact shade of their eyes, or the way their voice cracked when they said your name?
We’re all walking graveyards of unwritten stories. Every person is a library of unread novels, a museum of unshared art. Lives are lived in quiet, desperate technicolor, and then—poof. Gone. No record. No proof they ever burned so brightly. It terrifies me. Tomorrow isn’t promised. The present is borrowed time. Yet so many treat their existence like a rough draft, scribbled in pencil, ready to be erased.
I want to collect it all.
The mundane,
the catastrophic,
the euphoric.
The way coffee tastes on a Tuesday.
The way grief feels at 3 a.m.
The way joy can split you open like a ripe fruit.
These things matter. They’re the only things that do.
Every human is a universe of contradictions and quiet rebellions, and I’m ravenous to know them. To unfold their maps. To press my ear to the ground and listen for the hum of lives pulsing beneath the surface.
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This generation, I feel, has been somewhat robbed by the speed of social media. It's all about instant gratification, which has kinda made us forget the value of sitting down with someone's thoughts, of reading something that took heart and time to write.
Blogging brings back that essence of meaningful connection, of storytelling that isn't just about the next big thing but about sharing life's moments, big or small, in a way that's genuinely fulfilling.
To me, blogging isn't just about putting words out there; it's about crafting a space where the world can slow down for a bit, where we can all share in each other's lives in a way that's more meaningful, more engaging, and, dare I say, more human.
"If you didn't post about it on social media, did it even happen?"
"PROOF OR IT DIDN'T HAPPEN!"
I embrace my skills for what they are, not for what they could be. There’s a certain power in acceptance, in knowing that trying is enough. Perfection is an illusion, after all. So, here I am, laying my thoughts bare, a mosaic of imperfections and curiosities. Who knows where this path will lead? Perhaps it’s not about the destination but the act of creating, of leaving a mark, however faint, in this vast digital wilderness.
Blogging, for me, is an excuse to dive deep into what truly matters. It’s a space to reflect, to untangle the complexities of life, and to share those reflections in a way that feels both intimate and expansive. It’s not about crafting a perfect image or curating a highlight reel. It’s about authenticity, about honoring the messy, beautiful, and sometimes mundane moments that make up a life.
This is my corner of the internet, and I’m glad you’re here to share it with me.
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Cherish the chaos. Archive the ache. Write it down before the world forgets how to hear you
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"Through this dance of neurons, I've discovered there's no singular 'me'. I am a symphony of selves, each note, each rest, part of the whole melody. To represent me, truly, is to embrace this symphony."
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