This reminds me of the movie series called "Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story".

For Studio Ghibli fans out there, in the yellow line we agree.

I remember when I always watch Studio Ghibli films whenever I feel lost and empty. It made us some type of way, a thing I couldn't really tell.

It's so funny how I could voluntarilly raise my hand high up when I get low scores every morning spelling bee (sometimes I get good scores as well).

It is not embarrasing to me anymore. It was a kind of happy grief to me that I know how to admit and commit to learning. I hope everyone do there best even if sometimes it's not enough to others. It's your learning at all.

In a world saturated with social media platforms, what do you think makes Tumblr unique for content creators and consumers?

Tumblr distinguishes itself in the social media landscape by prioritizing individualism and niche-based communities. Its customizable and open-ended format allows users to curate unique online experiences, fostering intimacy and authenticity. The platform encourages unfiltered self-expression and the exploration of diverse interests and perspectives, making it a haven for open-minded individuals seeking meaningful connections and rich discussions. However, content discovery can be challenging due to the absence of algorithmic curation. In essence, Tumblr offers a digital sanctuary for the introspective and curious, where individuality thrives.

"Today's Journey"

It had been weeks since I made an blog account to nurture my goodness. It had been weeks since I had also stopped to post some written works but didn't stop from writing them instead kept them where it will be saved.

It's nice reading them back. I am happy reading my written thoughts even with grammatical errors. Reading them now when I am not able to write them for a while, makes me feel sad.

I am learning other stuffs because I love the thought of learning without feeling the pressure. But sometimes, pressure comes in. They say that this stage where I am is just temporary; temporary laughs and temporary pain. I should carry them. I say that to myself.

Learning with everybody at school wasn't just my goal. Being kind and nice to them despite my lack of confidence and lack of self-appearance. But I knew that it won't matter much. True people loves you for being the true goodness of yourself.

I like the thought of nurturing my goodness. I feel that it resonates my inner soul. I wonder poetically. I feel that it keeps my soul from what it isn't me.

The more I became attached to arts, the more I saw my surroundings in a very panoramic manner, in which I could see each one of them in shades and shapes. I get mesmerized by how I could simply draw them with the tip of the pencil carved thinly.

I get so mellow at the thought that I am doing a certain thing, neither to master nor to learn. It's a pleasure within my inner child's soul.

The more I became compelled to situations, I became attached to literature. My mind spit out words in a very scrambled but cozy and poetic manner that my eyes could tear upon to every word. It's crazy how I repeat them inside my head then put them directly to my papers. Because sometimes I felt that everything I cried on was an art for me.

I could never knew the same way I cried, of how I felt the world upon me that time. But I always knew I would cry again not the same way, but will always write it again and again. I will write them even if they aren't sad for me. I write them like they have a special part in my heart, not feeling pity anymore.

I remember when I was participating in an orientation with the other scouts, we had to introduce ourselves through our own footprints, and inside needed to be design with tiny details of our own identity.

I was peacefully creating my masterpiece with enthusiasm, expecting that I could share it to everybody with full resilience even this weak heart of mine.

People behind me are busy bustling with each other, exchanging negative affirmations about their work. I was happy I wasn't like that.

After a while, everybody was finish. I tried to peek at the artwork of the person behind me. It looks quite uninteresting at all. Shades in black with multiple erasures and unnecessary pen scribbles all over her artwork seems like how she portrays her identity.

I didn't compare. Besides, the girl infront of me really did great, I was looking at her wavy brown hair as well as at her artwork. She was able to present her work while me still holding my script for my artwork.

Ended up not presenting my work because I failed to raise my hand high up to the crowd. I wasn't discouraged because I am still hoping and will still until this weak heart resonates with the rhythm of my brain aiming high.