Childhood Memories - Blog Posts

When I was little I was homeschooled and I was a bit behind on learning to read I think, I was so excited for when it would be my turn to learn to read and begged my grandma and older sister to read to me all the time, I learned to read eventually but I don't like to read on my own, my grandma and sister had read the black stallion and black beauty to me so many times I could read them on my own but for the most part I wouldn't, I would always run up to my grandma or sister and beg them to read the old books to me, they always said why? You can read them yourself now, you don't need me, most of the time with a little persuasion they would still sit down with me on the blue couch in the white room and read a chapter or two of whatever book I had requested, I finally know the words for why I wanted to read with them when I could have easily done it myself, I didn't necessarily want to read the book for the story, the point wasn't reading the story, the point was sharing the story with them, I enjoyed their company and wanted to share a minimally engaging activity with them so I could revel in their presence and enjoy their gentle companionship

Went through my old bookmarks yesterday and found some of my favourites

I explored a bunch of areas in me and my little sisters childhood minecraft world and decided to take pictures. We used all of our animals to tell stories hehe.

Baby chickens and foxes from the nether??? It was all very silly.

Among the stars on a Friday afternoon (2022)

Unfinished/quick sketches of Hudson:

Thank you for clearing this up! I always assumed it was to make themselves feel better about venting and relying too much on a child.

Now I know my lack of a carefree childhood was not the fault of the adults in my life. I was simply born depressed.

on Neighbors

I'm walking home from a neighbor's house, the one that is friends with my mom, the one that coached me with public speaking and got me to nationals as a kid, the one that surprised me with a scholarship when I graduated high school. It's a slightly chill evening and it's beautiful.

(We had been talking about my resumé and how I could improve it. We workshopped both that and my portfolio, and discussed possibilities of studies abroad, and swapped stories on things we missed from each other's lives now that I live hundreds of miles away.)

Now I'm walking home in the chill blue evening and I walk past my neighbor's house, the one with the chihuahuas, the one that over a decade ago rescued me when I got my pants caught in my bike chain and fell, trapped. Never met me in my life but when I fell in front of her house she came running out to help my small crying self.

And now I'm walking past my neighbor's house, the pale blue one on the corner, the neighbor that had a tire swing even though she was elderly, the place my family would go on walks to when I was a kid so the kids could play on her tire swing while the grownups talked. That tree died eventually, and my dad helped her cut it down. She gave him the tire swing to take home to us kids.

Over there across the way is my neighbor's house, the one that is good friends with my grandma and paid me to water her plants whenever she went away for a week. I see her husband from time to time out in the garage when I pass their place.

Over just a little bit farther is the orange house that looks like a castle, with the neighbors who had daughters just older than my sister and I, daughters who always gathered up their old clothing into giant bags to drop at our doorstep so my sister and I could have new clothing. A treasure. Their mom came to my graduation and got me a gift.

Now I'm walking down the road and there are the neighbors right next to us, with the small loud dogs, the neighbors that know my dad well. He always has my brothers over to do yard work and the such. Dad loves sending over the boys to collect leaves in the autumn from our neighbors - most of them are elderly and can use the help, and my dad collects truckfuls of leaves to compost for his garden. A win-win.

And there at the end, of course, are my neighbors who always loved to see us each Halloween. They were always prepared for us, always the first ones we saw. My youngest brother always took care of their dog. When our dog got out, that neighbor let us know and we were able to get her before she got too far away.

We were generations apart, my neighbors and I. Yet that never stopped them from loving my family and me.

I hope they know the fond love I have for them now, despite no longer living there.

Girl Scouts

Sauces and Condiments - Homemade Sweet Zucchini Relish Potato salad or homemade dressings taste great when served with homemade sweet zucchini relish made in the same manner as grandma used to.

Evolutionary Learning: PTSD and CPTSD Symptoms.

Events that cause us fear, suffering, and threat to our lives leave a strong, everlasting mark. Either consciously or subconsciously, what is recorded plays back over and over again given the correct environment that makes the connection and presses the play button. We have recorded some information, but not all of it is of happy memories.

I was fascinated with the fact that I could record something on a cassette tape when I was little. I found it amazing, and those in my family did not share the same complete astoundment that I felt when I discovered that I was able to record sound, my voice and the voices in my surroundings on a cassette tape.

Now much older, I have decided that there is a recording nature in literally everything, from various crystals to the tiniest atoms, and the main point that I am getting to, our brains.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is the unwanted intrusion of some of the more challenging recordings that we have collected along the way. It isn’t the upsurge of happy memories, but rather the deeply ingrained bad memories and traumas that we might prefer to ignore or forget.

Sometimes in PTSD, emotions become uncontrollable, which is the distinguishing factor that makes it Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. CPTSD makes it even more difficult to navigate the world, let alone face and move on from the memories that keep intruding. 

Every episode pops up like a “surprise motherfucker” moment. Choice in shelving it for later on? forget it. PTSD and CPTSD is instant like that, and there is no going back until some sort of retreat and processing can be taken.

I sometimes like to think of PTSD and CPTSD as an overloaded cassette tape. This idea does not work out in rational reality since you cannot overload recordings on a cassette, it just stops each side, but the recording nature of the human brain is different. It certainly has much more capacity than a cassette tape, and in some ways, it may well be infinite, until physicality for the brain ceases to exist at least.

Studies show that predatory induced fear causes PTSD like changes in the brains and behaviour of wild animals. The article goes on to say that:

“Retaining a powerful enduring memory of a life-threatening predator encounter is thus clearly evolutionarily beneficial if it helps the individual avoid such events in the future3,4,8. Contemplating this, in light of the many PTSD-like changes manifest in laboratory rodents in response to predator-induced fear19, has prompted a growing number of biomedical researchers to propose3,5,6,7,9,10,11 that “PTSD is the cost of inheriting an evolutionarily primitive mechanism that considers survival more important than the quality of one’s life”12. In this view, PTSD-like changes in the brain and behaviour are not unnatural or “maladaptive”, but are rather evolutionary adaptations which entail costs, such as “hypervigilance”12,19,20 and the avoidance of trauma-related cues19, that provide the benefit of increasing the probability of survival, by increasing the likelihood of detecting a life-threatening danger (hypervigilance), and reducing the probability of encountering one (avoidance).”

Powerful memories that do not let us forget are the one’s that will help keep us safe in future times. Sometimes PTSD and CPTSD is making a faulty connection, because the situation that we are in can replay events so vividly where there really is no harm to come, but in the event of future run in’s with exceptionally predatory people, of which there are many + more growing with the generational learning created through the use of social media, PTSD and CPTSD serve as an evolutionary stage in learning that will absolutely help me in moving onward in my life at least.

The ability to record things is amazing, in whatever medium. I now have a new understanding of PTSD and CPTSD and how we learn by what we live. There is  cost, but I am more than happy to pay for what I need.

Be happy :-)

Let's pick some and smear it on our hands like 10 years didn't just pass us by

(~7 = around 7)

I remember a fanfic that did something that reminded me of ~7 year old me. What they did was they made a person alternate between hero and villain. Or sometimes-they’re-a-hero-sometimes-they’re-a-villain.

And ~7 year old me loved to take a barbie doll that was supposed to be a hero, and have her cover her face with her hair to hide her hero identity. When her hero identity was hidden, she was a villain. She’d cause trouble, get out of sight, show her hero identity and “defeat the villain”. Basically, she took credit for “defeating” herself.

This of course wouldn’t actually work in real life, mainly because in real life people don’t have super powers. The other part is because the barbie always showed herself, in the same clothes as her hero self. Another part is because it’d take too much effort.

you ever just sit and realise u can’t remember 80% of your childhood? like … what happened? who am i ..?

It took me too long, but I finally finished The Last Unicorn. I had bought a deluxe edition of the novel which came with an interview and a note from Mister Beagle.

What I didn't expect was the second story that came as an epilogue.

Two Hearts was beautiful, exciting, and the ending of this shorter tale is what finally made me cry.

I felt like a child again reading this book, though I stepped away and kept myself from reading it. I felt like once I read it, the magic of nostalgia would leave. It wouldn't be special to me, anymore. But it was. It truly was.

Home is teddy bears

exuberant cheers

child’s laughter

parents’ pride

Home is quiet 2 A.M. conversations

thoughts too loud for music

words too raw to speak

pen ink fresh on a page

Home is tea steeping

cookies baking

alarms beeping

clocks ticking

Funny how so much of

Home

is what I made from

Everything

you never gave me

— Yushan C.

Can't prove you wrong cause I do be queer

If your favourite barbie movie was Barbie and the Diamond Castle you’re queer now I don’t make the rules I’m just a perfect proof of that

zhu zhu pets anyone?!?!

Just remembered these things. I was obsessed with them.

𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘭𝘥— 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘶𝘴. 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮. 𝘐'𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘗𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴, 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, “𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵,” 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭— 𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥. 𝘞𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘫𝘰𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴.

—A Lady and Her Quill, Journal of Wandering Thoughts

𝘍 𝘦 𝘦 𝘭 𝘍 𝘢 𝘮 𝘪 𝘭 𝘪 𝘢 𝘳 ?

Madonna "I want my MTV" 💓

⭕️2000s Target⭕️

Missing this Target :<

“Hey, wanna go to the mall today?”

a personal challenge to see how many characters/references I could fit into one picture, could definitely still do more!

Edit-For everyone asking how long it took, 2 weeks of planning and a little less than month to draw/edit (I work fast)

I remember in middle school, I asked my teacher if I can get Nimona, and she said yeah and pointed to the closet. And then the kids started laughing like "did she just ask if you can get pneumonia? Of course you can hehehe", so I had to look at my teacher dead in the face and ask " can I get the book Nimona " and then she just looked at me like 'child I just said yes-'. Anyways, the moral of the story is I hate kids in school.

It's weird how fast the time passes. I was busy being... well, busy, and life went by me.

Summer nights. I never put together why I felt so nostalgic about this specific time of the year, even though it's not my favorite season. Now that I think of it, it has more to do with television and wattpad.

You see, growing up I wasn't allowed to go out of my house unless it was for school. So television became my only source of happiness. I was very drawn to cartoons and kid's shows, especially the one's from Japan. Shin Chan, Doraemon, Ryukendo, Beyblade, you name it. While I'm aware that it's supposed to be called anime, it's considered cartoon in my country because of it's dubbed version being widely known.

I lived in small towns for most of my life so this atmosphere was mostly peaceful. I would sit out near the grass before my bedtime to feel something. The chirping of crickets and the soft breeze eased my little heart that longed for friends. Not that it matters now, but not being able to interact with my friends during vacation made my feel like a frog in a well. A frog who knew how the life outside the well looked.

When I turned 12, I got a hand-me-down phone from my mother. I quickly opened a Facebook account to connect with my friends after school season ended. It didn't do much since my friends were busy hanging out with people, in-person. I was still a kid obsessed with a fictional character so I took quizzes online and eventually it led me to the world of fanfictions.

I swear to God the fanfictions back in the day were different. Those still has sex scenes but it was a result of several cute interactions and awkward sexual tension, not the dominant, angry alpha, arrogant ceo bullshit you see these days. Even the Alpha characters in old fanfictions used to be cold but empathetic, unlike the uncontrollable monsters of today. The old ones were only misunderstood to be monsters, the ones these days are actual monsters.

Anyways, it all led me to the peak era of wattpad (2014-2017). I became obsessed with fanfictions and read around 20000 words per day. I would've read more if my internet access wasn't limited. I would read it under the stars while sitting out near the garden or in my dimly lit room with my windows wide open.

I could go on about these forever but I won't. One thousand or more words aren't enough to share the impact of Japanese children’s shows and anime on my childhood and the longing for to relive the lonely but simple past every summer night.