• Yezarck

Day 86: Pink Stilettos

100 Burpees done


I can’t believe I’m in the last 15 days of this challenge and what a relief that it to me. Its also motivation at the same time actually because what would be the point of giving up now when the end is so near in sight?


I feel like I’m running out of words. It’s weird because I don’t like talking much at all these days. I really love to live in my mind. Its not so quiet in there so I don’t need external stimuli. I also find that getting my thoughts out by writing helps to quiet my mind actually. yh its true I never really thought about it but I think my mind has become more quiet since I started all this writing.


What does that mean? Am I supposed to be a writer? Is it good for my mind to be more quiet? I don’t even think I know the answer to these questions. But who knows, maybe when this challenge is done and I have to read all of this head jam that I put out I might find the answers to these questions.


I seem to have more questions than answers these days. Even so the answers are not such a pressing issue for me. I think because in many respects I still see writing as a chore and not something that is therapeutic like painting or creating a piece of art.

I know that writing is of course an art form too, but it’s not my forte.


I’m still trying to write and that’s after 86 days straight of writing, not to mention writing a book alongside this and also starting a blog about cupping therapy. So that’s a lot of writing for someone who doesn’t consider herself a writer at all. It still hurts mentally a bit but maybe because the process of taking the weird and usually very private (not really private at all actually, its not that deep) thoughts from my mind is quite a new experience for me.


I remember when I was in primary school I really loved writing fiction stories. I used to do really well and that would usually result in me taking a trip to the head teachers office to get a gold start of achievement. I remember the last good story I wrote was in secondary school. it was called: ‘The Betrayal. I wrote it for a RE lesson, we had just studied the crucifixion and how Jesus was betrayed by Judas. Our homework was to write a story about someone being betrayed by someone close to them.


My story basically went like this: a girl who really loved fashion has not one but 2 boyfriends only to find out that they are both cheating on her with each other so in the end she kills them with her pink stilettos. Everyone in the class loved that story so much and I think I got an ‘A’ for it too. That like a 9 in today's terms right?


I don’t know why they had to change the grading system. What’s wrong with the alphabet and having A* as being the highest grade. If 9 is the new ‘A’ and 10 is the new ‘A*’ then its weird because why don’t you have 11 and 12 and keep going up in the numbers?


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