It's Friday, and counting down 13 days. I was walking around town with my two buddies in the evening just now, and thought to myself: "How time flies. Everyone is growing up." But whether I have grown a lot in maturity, that is only between God and myself.

I've always imagined going through an interview, and this question would be thrown at me: "Share something about yourself."

How would I answer this question? I don't know how to describe myself, for 19 years I have been living, and it feels like living inside this shell of mine. Who am I? What am I doing here on this earth? Life is like a "tap-and-go" concession card, with each day passing without any meaning in it. And here comes the next birthday cake, you blow the candles, and the next thing you know, you are one year closer to death.

Home is a place of comfort, where I can spend my time with my mom and dad, and brothers. But it seems my brothers don't seem to appreciate it, and their attitude is making life worst at home day by day. If I could, I would bring my parents out and live in another home, a home of mine. Home cooked food is the best a taste bud could ever tasted. Nowadays, young women of our generation can't even differentiate salt and sugar, looks like I am set for life on fast food restaurants. I want to learn cooking someday, depends on my procrastinating mood.

No, I am not being emo here. Just have the sudden urge to pour some of my thoughts.

Sometimes going to church is good, but going there without the correct mind is wrong. Yes the songs are good, the sermons are pleasant to the ears. But the thing is, not practicing it and listening countless of times can be annoying. It's just me. Yesterday, I was reading through my testimonial during my first mission trip during 2008. Now it's 2010, I am back to my old self. Inventing a time machine is useless.

What I need is a breakthrough.