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I may not show it, but a lot of people don't. I try my best to be the happiest I can be and do it with all of my heart in hopes that not only will I feel better but the people around me do as well. The optimistic side of me makes me want to think that I can always be happy and be great to everyone and be seen as an influence and/or leader. My pessimistic side however finds little cracks and holes to get inside my brain to tear me apart. I have this fear that people will not care about my advice or tips. I'm more afraid that they might see my help as a way to make myself seem like a better person than they are. I'm afraid that if I'm happy all the time, those who don't feel the same will be jealous of me. And of course I don't want that. I'm a person willing to listen to others, but I don't know if people trust me enough. I don't know if I even trust myself enough. That may be the reason no one seems to be wanting to talk to me about personal problems. See, I doubt myself but not out loud. Anxiety is not just a word applied to those who are socially awkward, but everyone who is afraid of something. And everyone is afraid of at leat one thing. Those who say they aren't afraid are lying, and are scared to tell the truth. I find myself talking to close friends with ease, but when I get near a girl I like or a stranger, I feel like I am not able to fully function. I feel like every girl I meet instantly become a friend of mine: a hole that I can't escape. But I guess I don't need to leave it because I have friends. I want to connect with people who feel like they're not wanted or seen, because I can kinda relate. I have a bunch of friends who, before me, haven't really gotten personally close to anyone until they met me. You can reply on this website, DM me on Twitter, IG, or Snapchat, and even go to joshuasd.sarahah.com to tell me anonymously

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Hopefully, I see her beautiful eyes and smile again. Hopefully, I'll be able to tell her that I like her when we see each other again. Hopefully, she'll be able to tell me if she likes me or not without lying. Hopefully, it won't pressure her into a decision she doesn't want to make. Hopefully, she does what she wants to do. Hopefully, I'll be lead on the right path of my future. Hopefully.

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I refrain from cursing all the time. No one hears me curse. Sometimes, I'll even bring it up. My friends tell me that they don't care. They say, "This is 2017. Elementary schoolers curse." But still, I'm able to choose what I
want to say. I only curse in scripts. I'll sing along to explicit songs, but will not say the "f word" or "b word". My first bad word was "damn", and it was in a script. I didn't really know how to feel about it, but if I wanted to be an actor, I had to adapt to this change. When I finally said it, it was just another word. Yet, I don't use it daily, or weekly, or even monthly. In fact, I don't think I've said the word since I performed. Will I curse in the future. Maybe not. But if I do, it won't hurt me.

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A boy in the 3rd grade made a mistake. After that, he promised himself that he'd make something of it. And through his life came trial and error. A journey filled with terror. But with it, he learned to respect. An attempt to recover what he had wrecked. Please forgive me.

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And I have a message!

Racism and oppression really need to stop. People need to realize that they're not at the top. I sat down, became humble. Life gave me a fight, and I had to rumble. Take my perfect reputation! We are God's creation! We live in a nation where people are hatin' for a need of sensation. But we really need to focus on our education and graduation. A contemplation of OUR LIFE. This is my confession to those of you who have been hurt, who have depression, who are treated like dirt. Live your life and live it real good. Have a happy family in the neighborhood. Don't let yourself down with all of the haters. Life is like a business, and trouble's what it caters.

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He went to watch a movie with his family. A 'Hidden Figures' showing at AMC. Proving life was harsh, not as nice as it seems, three brave ladies fulfilled their dreams. Obstacles faced them including Jim Crow laws. Separated bathrooms were just a part of what he saw.
The boy cried.
And cried.
And cried.
These women accomplished more than he had ever tried. He looked back on his mistakes in the past. He thought that the pain from back then wouldn't last. He was wrong. To judge a person because he didn't belong. The boy joined choir and sang 8 years straight. Friends and family made him feel great. Drama gave him confidence. Life gave him a date. September 9, the day he was born. And on May 23, he wrote a poem. And in that poem, he brought something from the shelf. The boy was none other than Joshua himself.

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Move to middle school, a few years back. Rumours spread a boy who hates blacks. And who spread the rumours about the fool? Why, it was the very same girl back from his old school. The boy looked to his friends, the only people he knew, and they said he deserved the pain because he was rude. Move to high school, 2016. The boy not 9 years old, but now 15. Obama spent his last year as our first black President. And by this time, everyone forgot the incident. Everyone, except for the boy.

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A boy in the third grade made a racist comment to a girl his age. At age 9, he didn't know what racist meant. The girl raised her hand high up in the air, and the boy stood crying "That isn't fair". A supervisor took him all the way to the office. He had eyes full of tears and a body filled with softness. The principal saw the boy and asked him to sit down, and she looked stern. She had a face with a frown. She said, "Look at me. What you did isn't good. Fighting with a girl over some dumb food? But you're still young, so I won't give you detention. And you need to face the world. Listen. Pay attention.

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This is something I wrote for my 5th period drama class as a sophomore. It talked about a past experience I had when I was young. It goes something like this:

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As a kid growing up, I never thought writing would be fun. Books were boring to me, and I'd skip a few pages just to get to the main point of the story. But now, I see that writing (or blogging) has given me freedom to speak about anything. But it's strange. I always thought that I was an extrovert, one who could tell anyone about anything. I guess it's not completely true.

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Hello there. My name is Joshua San Diego. What's yours? Well, I guess you can't tell me through the screen. But you can post comments. And feel free to do so with all of my posts. This is our life, and our journey. And maybe our own little secret. Well, here goes.