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I can’t believe I am saying this… but…. omg. serioysly…a.hasjkhakaaa LOLAJLKAA

What kind of bees make honey? Honey bees What kind of bees make milk? Boobies

hehehehehhehehe hakkkkkkkkkkkkkkeeedddd p00000jlaha

9:

Well, it was a lot harder than I thought. Confession, I broke the silence about 3 hours too early. Uhh.. Yeah.

Okay, so the Day of Silence was meant to signify the unheard voices of those who have been forced into the Lord’s Resistance Army by Joseph Kony. Invisible Children put together a nice movement for 25 hours of silence for the 25 years of war between the LRA and Ugandan government. 

Being silent had a lot of implications. For one thing, it certainly brought some awareness to Invisible Children in general, which is good. I couldn’t help but to think if I acted like I was vying for attention, because for how talkative I usually am, being silent for a day does raise some eyebrows. Wrongfully so, I kind of felt above everyone in a way, like I had something honorable over everyone else, especially those people who mock me, IC, and the implications of being silent for a day. I do want to acknowledge that I unintentionally exploited the Day of Silence to get attention, I did not mean for this to happen - it just did. Honestly, for how seemingly careless, inconsiderate, and immature I may be at times, I do wish to be perceived as an open-minded, cultured person. 

Superficially, being silent for 25 hours did nothing more than to raise awareness for Invisible Children. However, upon reflection, I also had a sort of epiphany. Not really, an epiphany, but an elaborate realization. I refrained myself from speaking, but found ways to communicate my thoughts through media other than my voice. I texted, wrote notes, and charaded my way through the day to get my voice heard.

Today, I lived a day without speaking. What does that even mean? For me, living a day without speaking hardly does justice to the meaning of “silence”. I wasn’t really silent. My thoughts were constantly conveyed throughout the day though various means, yet I still thought that today was a huge challenge. Think about the child soldiers in the LRA. Where is their voice?
Today, I have not spoken but have been heard.
These children have spoken, cried, screamed in futile, but who is there to hear their voices? 

Honestly, I want to say that I am proud of myself. Not because I raised awareness for Invisible Children (seriously, with the amount of ignorance in this Brentwood bubble, for my classmates, I did no better than to raise awareness for “another war in Africa”), but because through the Day of Silence, I found something worthwhile.

To the beneficiaries of IC, don’t give up. I hear your voices.

 “When does he die?” he asked. 

Confused, I asked, “Who dies?” 

“The laowai.” 

“Which laowai?” 

“The one with all the muscles.” 

 I was even more confused, “But he’s the hero.”

“Right, so when does he die?” 

“He doesn’t. Heroes don’t die in American movies.” 

“They do in Chinese movies.” 

“I know, but not in American movies.” 

“Then they aren’t heroes.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

Little Tiger paused to think. “I don’t know. They’re just not.” 

Feeling like I was on to something important, I pressed. “But why do you think that?”

Little Tiger dropped his head and shrugged his shoulders.

Deqing, who had been following the exchange, said, “Because it doesn’t take much courage to fight when you still believe you can win. What takes real courage is to keep fighting when all hope is gone.”