Blissful (Spiritual Autobiography)

It’s never about what we leave behind; it’s how we live our lives...

Once upon a time, back when I was young and ignorantly believed I was a deep and meaningful person, I used to think life didn’t have a point. I mean, we spend our lives trying over and over again after failing almost continuously. Then our reward for when we finally do succeed is just to die and lose it all. And if that’s the case, then why bother? What’s the point? I stopped thinking that way a long time ago. Yet, I still can’t pinpoint why I was put on this earth. Maybe there isn’t even a reason behind my existence. Or maybe the point of life is to give it our own meaning by finding our bliss.

Have to stand up to be stronger...

I was five years old when I started dancing. Then I was probably around ten or eleven when I decided to make it a permanent part of my life. Dance is a big form of expression to me. When I want to convey a specific emotion, I turn to my body and to music. I always have the exact song I need ready and waiting to be played, too. Then my body just sorta knows what to do as soon as the music starts, so I stop thinking and just flow with the rhythm. This basically goes on until I exhaust myself enough to not even feel the weight of my body anymore. A blissful numbness.

When you think you’ve won you’re still losing after all...

I have a love/hate relationship with video games. I love them because I’ve had the chance to encounter so many characters I can relate to. Then I hate them simply because of boss battles. I mean, I’m a gamer, but I’m not the best gamer. So when it comes to those boss battles, it takes a lot for me to defeat them and get past them. There have been plenty of instances where I’ve been stuck at the same boss battle for a good month. I’ll get so close to beating them, but then the enemy manages to throw in their final move and kill me instead. It’s infuriating, really. But there’s nothing like the moment when I finally do win. My heart is pounding. My breathing is erratic. My palms are sweaty. My body is shaking. It’s a mix of anger and exhilaration. It’s a strange euphoria that only lasts until I remember that I have more boss battles to look forward to. A blissful exasperation.

Wishing I was more than what my story has told...

I was in sixth grade when writing became an important part of my life. Then the day it became a serious thing was some random day in seventh grade. I returned home from school, locked myself in my room, and wrote at least seventeen different poems in the course of just a few hours. All while sitting in the corner of my dark bedroom. All these bottled up feelings come out through the pen and explode on blank sheet after blank sheet of paper. Pieces of paper that aren’t full until I’m empty. This kind of empty isn’t bad, though; it’s relieving. A weight off my shoulders. Then again, the journals I’ve begun to carry around have added a brand new weight to my shoulders. A blissful pressure.

And I can’t live in a fairytale of lies...

It was a cold, rainy day in Boston. I was standing outside the Hynes Convention Centre for a photoshoot at the anime convention I had been attending. Standing outside in the cold rain wearing a tank top dress and tights. I was freezing to say the least. Then a young man also attending the shoot approached me and lent me his jacket to help keep me warm. Four years later and I’m still good friends with this person. Better yet, I’ve met some of my closest friends at anime conventions, which says a lot seeing as making friends isn’t always easy for me. Plus, I don’t typically do well in big crowds. There’s something different about conventions, though. Something that makes it all okay. I mean, there are hundreds upon hundreds of people gathered for the same reason. And that reason is their love of fictional worlds and characters. Our love of fictional worlds and characters. So that’s just like an automatic icebreaker. It makes it okay to approach someone and lend them your jacket because they’re freezing. It makes getting lost in a sea of people not as stressful. A blissful anxiety.

The world in the rearview mirror doesn’t shake me; I haven’t looked back there lately...

By the time I got my licence, I had already turned eighteen. I technically lost two years of so-called freedom, but I’ve made up for that by this point, I’d say. After all, I try to do as much driving as possible. I mean, I do tend to feel the most relaxed and at home when I’m behind the wheel. I get in my car, put on a CD, crack the window, and I’m lost. Even when I know exactly where I’m going, I’m still lost. There are even some days when I completely zone out. Now, I understand how bad that must sound, but I don’t mean that I’m not paying attention to the road. It’s the world itself I’ve forgotten about, and it’s forgotten about me, too. In those moments when I’m driving, I don’t mean anything. A blissful insignificance.

I just realised everything I have is someday gonna be gone...

My earliest memory would be that of me opening my eyes and looking up at a clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. As far as I’m concerned, I was still only an infant at this time. Then I blinked, and the next thing I knew I was three or four years old. Now, there’s no way of knowing whether or not this is a true memory. For all I know, it could’ve only been a dream and I’ve just made myself believe it’s a memory. Even if that is the case, though, I don’t care. I’ll continue to tell myself that it’s my first memory because it’s something I always like to think about. When I’m overwhelmed with all these other thoughts and happenings and whatnot, I like to stop and sit back and reminisce in this simple, short and sweet memory. A blissful lie.

Just as soon as we see every flaw in every need we’ll understand...

If I could go back and talk to my young and ignorant self, I would. I’d tell her she’s not meant to save anyone or change the world or anything like that because that’s too much for a girl to take on. I’d tell her to just make sure she’s happy with who she is and how she’s living here life. And that right there is the point. We can only give life meaning when we’re happy with ourselves. By now, I’ve come a long way in this life and I know I still have a long way to go. Just like I also know I won’t reach my happily ever after. Instead, I’ll live blissfully ever after.