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Miss UnderStood

Everyone Has Their Story, This is Mine.

Take Nothing At All

I thought of you today.

And while you are in my head, I had an epiphany and

I told myself:

“Why would you change yourself for someone who doesn’t know the pain of what you have gone through that made you who and what you are today?

Why would you change yourself for someone who has the GREATER NEED TO CHANGE more than you do?

Why would you change yourself for someone whose focus is on your faults alone and doesn’t seem to know or to notice the DIRT scattered all over his whole being?

Why would you change yourself for someone who is SELF RIGHTEOUS and who only wants pleasure and no pain?

Why would you change yourself for someone who from the very beginning has been deceitful and full of SHIT?”

I won’t change for you nor for anybody! I would change my ways, and anything I would deem necessary without anyone asking me.

I am not a Saint. I am an Honest Sinner and not a Lying Hypocrite!
I am not a Saint. I am an Honest Sinner and not a Lying Hypocrite!

I won’t be, I can’t be and I WOULDN’T WANT TO BE someone who is full of grace!

I am sooooo FAR from PERFECTION, that I am well aware of.

And just so you know, my IMPERFECTIONS IS WHAT I AM MADE OF;

MY COUNTLESS FLAWS defined me, molded me and honed me;

MY WEAKNESSES has been my FORTRESS, my place of comfort for each and every time a dark soul takes advantage of my kindness and deliberately breaks the only frail part of me.

I am just like you and maybe, just maybe, you are just like me, — in one way or another or in more ways than one maybe. But how I am different from you is not something you can fathom.

I AM ME. THIS IS ME. TAKE ME AS A WHOLE OR TAKE NOTHING AT ALL.

To you, whom I wrote this for, I leave the wise words of Uncle Bob:

“Who are you to judge the way I live?
I am not Perfect and I don’t live to be.
BUT BEFORE YOU START POINTING FINGERS
MAKE SURE YOUR HANDS ARE CLEAN!”

#TodayIsAnotherDay #iFlippedMyHairAndiMoveOn #iChargeYouToExperience

 

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Tattooed and Proud

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Tattoo….You?.”

Well, I guess I am really different from most of the girls my age. Back in the sleepy town where I have spent my teenage years, while most of the teenagers wanted to have a new dress, or new shoes or new boyfriend, I was wanting to have a tattoo. Yes a tattoo. I don’t know what it is about tattoos that fascinate me but I want to have one! This wish has been on my bucket list for such a long time. Growing up in a conservative family, I am so sure my Mom and Dad won’t approve of me having a tattoo of any sort. But I did not lose hope. My wish to have one sit on the bucket for a long time, until I turned 18.

It was summer of 2000 when I had my first tattoo. It was a tribal sun just above my “insert coin” (that’s how I call the butt crack). It was the safest place I thought for my first ink. My parents won’t see it, I was pretty sure about it. But no secrets can be kept forever. My Mom and Dad saw it one day when this low-waist jeans was the latest fad! I didn’t get the scolding I was dreading to receive when they found out, Thank God.

The tribal sun I had was the only one I have.  I thought that was the only I will ever had. I never thought of having more than one tattoo until a decade after.

I was in deep pain one day. I cannot explain the pain brought about by a broken heart. The pain was excruciating I can no longer take it. I decided I want to feel some real pain to divert the emotional pain I was feeling. I went to the nearest tattoo shop in the city where I lived, and got my second tattoo. It felt good. A few days later, I went back and got another one, a Red Dragon on my back – for my son. I want him to be as fierce as a dragon, as tough as a dragon like me.

In 2012 I was reunited with my best friend in grade school. We went to his tattoo artist friend and got ourselves a tattoo whose designs are similar to one another. And that year, it felt like there would be a scarcity for tattoos that I had to get one every month.

At the moment, I just counted as I already have lost count, I have a total of 16 tattoos. I don’t know how it turned out to be 16 when i just wanted to have one. Each of my tattoo has their own story, which I’d rather not tell one by one here. Each one symbolizes something important to me, to my life. As I say on my tagline, “Each of us has our own story…” so does my tattoos.

I am aware of people who dislikes skin art. There are some who thinks of us women with tattoos as bitches and whores. But hey no! Not all inked people are bad people, same with not all religious people are God-fearing and kind. A lot of inked people experience discrimination in many different ways, which is a sad fact. The difference we have with people who are not inked is that, we don’t care if they don’t have one. We don’t judge them for not having a tattoo to wear all their lives. We don’t discriminate. We don’t call them names. It’s just a matter of Respect. Respect for choices. Respect for one another.

My son loves my inks. He is proud he got to choose the red dragon design on my back. And he knows he can only get one when he is of the right age.

You see having tattoos is not bad at all. It does not make me a bad mother to my only child. I provide for us, I still am capable of instilling virtues and values despite the 16 work of arts in my skin. I am still the same daughter my mother has. I am still the same sister, cousin, niece and friend. I have just decided to decorate my skin. I just chose to exercise my freedom to choose and express myself. Whatever those judgmental people has to say about people like me who is inked, I don’t care. I don’t mind and they don’t matter. I am a mother, a daughter, a lover, a sinner, a worker and I am TATTOOED and PROUD!

Mayumi's Back Some people hang their art, I wear mine. 

Why am I Here?

Growing up, I have always wanted to be able to write something and be able to share it to the world. Maybe it was because of the reading influence that my Dad has on me. My Dad used to say that “He who reads a lot, knows a lot!”  I love reading. And because of my love for reading the urge in me to be able to write something for people to read started to grow as early as my first year in high school – I was 11 years old.

I was attending a public school here in my country during high school. One of our subjects required us to have a personal journal of our everyday activities. That’s where I started to practice my writing. I write this and that, my everyday activities in school, what I have learned from one subject, what I heard from a classmate, what and how I feel that particular day, and everything else. I started writing poems and essays in my native tongue at age 12 or 13. I was just too shy to have them published although my classmates were telling me to give it a go.

On my first year in college – I was 15 – I decided to join the school’s publication. I was a contributor at first and then feature writer in English and on my last year in college, I was the publication’s Editor-in-Chief. I am not a good writer. I don’t use deep words, parables nor idioms. I am more into writing things in black and white. There are already 256 shades of grey between black and white. I think and I believe that when I start using parables and idiomatic expressions, there will start confusion of the thoughts I want to convey.  And my writing ended after graduation.

After graduation, I went back to writing just in my journal again, just for my eyes to see. Until recently, I got this feeling of wanting to share What’s on my Mind again. I have several notebooks I have filled with so much of my thoughts that I want to share to everyone, not just to my friends on Facebook. And I want to be able to do it right, that’s why I decided to join Blogging 101.

some of my journals

Thank You

LORD, in my 30 years of existence, you have never failed me.

You have always blessed me with so many things.

I always have a reason to thank you everyday.

I may not have led a righteous life, yet you pour your blessings on me.

 

Thank you LORD for the parents you have blessed me with, they have raised me well.

They have instilled in me virtues that had helped me be who I am today.

They have never failed to love me despite the troubles I have caused.

They gave me millions of chances for all the times I have screwed up with my life.

Thank You Lord for my MOM and DAD.

 

Thank you LORD for my brothers and sisters.

We grew up with so much love and respect for one another.

They have been very helpful and supportive.

If I’ll be given another life to live, I would still choose them to be my brothers and sisters.

 

Thank you LORD for the friends that I have.

The friends I have shared decades of friendship and the new friends I have made.

Thank You for the kind of friends who did not fail to see the real me.

Those who did not look at me the way others would.

The friends who stayed with me through thick and thin.

The kind who stayed with me with or without money.

 

Thank You as well LORD for the people who doesn’t have anything good to say about me.

They have helped me become the tough woman I am now.

They have taught me that I wasn’t created to please them.

They make me realize how fortunate I am for what I have.

Bless them as well LORD and forgive them.

 

Thank You LORD for my wonderful son.

I prayed for him and you gave him to me.

You gave me a very smart, God-fearing and a very loving son.

He gives me unconditional love and that makes me so happy.

I am so thankful for my RED oh GOD, he makes me so proud.

 

I thank you OMNIPOTENT GOD for this Life.

I believe, somehow I have done Good things to my fellow beings.

I feel so sorry for the bad things I have done.

Forgive me. I may have hurt some people, but i know that You know, I didn’t mean to do so.

 

I AM GRATEFUL FOR EVERYTHING YOU HAVE BLESSED ME WITH.

I GIVE THANKS TO YOU LORD.

YOU ARE REALLY WORTHY TO BE PRAISED.

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