Lost in Disturbing Tranquility

You fooled me once with your eyes now honey

2011-09-13T12:50:00.000+08:00

[Sarah Smiles - Panic! at the Disco, Vices & Virtues (2011)]

Past ten and the moon still shines;
Fast then, I mowed my face with my razor,
And your face revealed itself on the mirror
And your eyes brought smiles.

I smile inside as you open them slowly,
These seductive almond eyes of yours;
I smile back at you with my eyes as you stood beside me,
And in an instant you awakened this burning force.

I took your hand and put down your brush,
I looked at your eyes and you immediately held me against you;
‘Honey’, I called you even though you’re just one petty crush,
Funny, it was just a long torrid kiss and it felt like you wanted me too.

Too bad it was all in my mind, this sweet hot fantasy,
That even in a bathroom setting we can’t just happen to be;
Two minutes have gone and there’s no interesting sight to see,
That even in this bathroom there’s nothing, just you and me.

Smoking in Sunsets.

2011-06-18T19:46:00.003+08:00

"Don't wake me up." she said.

I was lighting my cigarette that afternoon as I sat at the sidewalk of the main road in the subdivision I lived in. The usual after-class hangout, except that I'm alone this time. My brothers - just childhood friends actually - were busy for basketball practice or evening class and it's our first day in college and I just have to live my after-class afternoons alone, because I don't plan to fool myself with any extra-curricular work anyway. I'm satisfied sitting in the sidewalk, smoking my cigarettes and listening to loud music with my headphones, and not giving a fuck on whose gate I'm blocking nor whose dog it was who would keep on barking at me. I don't care, this is how I tend to live my five-o'-clock-in-the-afternoons.

Then she kicked me in my hips one day.

"What the actual fuck?" I gasped, looking up at the owner of that damn foot. It was actually a pretty face, with long black hair that flows smoothly down her shoulders, with eyes as perfect as probably Diana from sixth grade, with lips so soft they could actually land on any part of my body I swear. She kicked me again but this time it was wonderfully done on my butt.

"Get out of my spot." she said. I almost dropped my cigarette. "Oh, so now we could actually pick a portion of the sidewalk for private property?" I asked, a bit irritated obviously. It does not feel good having pains in the butt, anyway, but probably with some good exceptions but surely not this one. "Yes, move." she replied, kicking me again, soft taps in my left hip to force me to move.

The moment she sat down I knew her. We suddenly knew each other very well. And this was how I spent my after-class five-o'-clock afternoons for four months. Sitting in the sidewalk, hanging out in her room, fucking in my room, running wild on empty grass-filled lots, smoking in sunsets. But as the ever-lame cliche goes, all good things come to an end.

It was nearly five o' clock in the afternoon and I was walking along the main road of the subdivision from school, smoking my second cigarette for the day, when she suddenly grabbed my right arm and dragged me someplace. I noticed that she was crying and I was trying to offer her a cigarette but she shoved my hand away and the lit cigarette fell on the grass, and fire sprouted. "Hey-" I blurted out but she ate the words I was about to say as she kissed me. The fire surrounded us, circled us in this vast field of grass, and there we were in the middle of it, making out. I couldn't make my logic function; I could have wondered why we were avoided by the fire but we're having too much of a good time here so why even care? She started unbuttoning my pants, which signaled me to take my clothes off and do the same to her and all that.

But instead of pursuing her suggestion of outdoor grassfield sex, I asked her: "Why were you crying?" The fire suddenly grew higher. It was then that I noticed that she was very pale, that if she had not smiled I could have guessed she's dead alive. "Is something wrong?" I asked her again in my ever-failing attempt to comfort people at situations like this. "Everything," she said, "everything's wrong. Nothing was ever right." Sure. That was a bit stupid, I thought. "Oh come on, when did you start joining the Drama Club?" I said, also in my ever-failing attempt to cheer people up. She glanced at me. The perfect Diana-of-sixth-grade eyes weren't those Diana-of-sixth-grade eyes anymore. They were eyes of gloom, of collected cold, of whatever sadness was attacking her straight to the heart.

To break the moment she reached for my shirt and pushed me hard down, making me lie on the surprisingly wet grass ground. I thought she was going to kiss me or something, but then she just laid down beside me as well. All the flames that surrounded us were gone in a wink. She reached for my hand, and locked hers in it.

"Don't wake me up." she said.

I turned to look at her, wondering why she said that. But no words came out.

I was just waiting. I did not wake her up.

She never did.

Around.

2011-04-12T21:35:00.003+08:00

I walk a narrow straight road

But as well I tremble in my serpentine path.

I go ahead

But then again I walk in circles.

On and on

And on

And on,

It all seems to go nowhere.

It does not make any sense,

This silly life,

This empty little shell,

It does not make any.

Then you come

And say

That there's nothing wrong,

There's nothing wrong.

I believed you,

But then everything fall apart,

I got broken

And I fall into pieces.

There's nothing wrong.

Then I walk the narrow road

In my serpentine path

And I am bound in chains,

And I am bound in circles.

Coffee.

2011-03-28T14:06:00.003+08:00

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" he asked.

I was staring at my own reflection in the mirror, feeling bit by bit the sensation of being naked, of being in his room instead of mine, of the rushing cooling of the warmth that has been circumventing in my body.

"Yes, with two teaspoons of sugar, please," I replied.

I was staring at myself, assessing each part of my body. I glanced at my eyes, these normal almond-shaped eyes with hazel-brown irises that stare right back at me, that pierce through my soul silently judging, that I like to be closed when he kisses me passionately and touches me gently and -. I glanced at my lips, these pinkish lips that surrender to his lips, that follow his every command, that tickle him and make him moan that long moan and -. I glance at my breasts, these A-cups that he always love to grab like it's a handrest and he always love to press against his somehow-hairy chest and he always love to lick and -.

"Don't melt down looking at yourself," he said as he approached me and set beside me in his bed, holding a coffee cup in one hand.

"I'm just-"

"I love you."

I just stared back at him. He was naked too, and I grazed and traced the path of his body hair. From his shaven moustache and beard, and skip to his chest, down to his navel area down to his -.

"I love you too," I replied.

I'm not sure.

I feel nothing. I absolutely feel nothing. I fake the smiles I show to everyone when your up and proud presenting me to your friends as your new girlfriend. I fake the words I speak when you say something sweet. I fake the loud ecstatic moans when you tell me that you're coming and the humping gets intensified. I fake our relationship. I fake us.

"I will love you forever, babe," he said once more, handing me my coffee.

"Good morning," I said as I smiled.

That's what you get when you pursue an actress. Fuck you, I don't like drinking coffee.

Naked.

2011-02-04T23:40:00.003+08:00

You said that it will never be the same.

It never did.

It was the night of the twenty-fourth; I was alone in my house and you were out there hanging out with a friend (I don't know why; I never bothered to answer) but you sent me a text message. A message followed by a call. I don't know why it came into your mind; you're probably down or something. There must be something wrong.

Thirty minutes.

You were to arrive in my house in thirty minutes.Pretty fast, I thought, but I could have still taken a shower. And I did. I wasn't wearing anything anyway (I live alone so I don't bother wearing anything inside the house) so I walked to the bathroom. I have to do the ritual of jacking off, say, to our quickies or to our nights together; I have just gotten used to it, not particularly since you came.

Then I remembered.

Some three months ago you took me walking in the riverside at two in the morning. It was supposedly your usual randomness, but it's not. You woke me up late at night with a call and I immediately responded. We were walking; it was just us there walking, silently, very silently.

You hugged me.

It was the tightest you could have ever given without inducing pain. I got a hard-on, for, you know, the usual reasons. Your right hand traveled down into my pants and your left hand grabbed my face (or was it my right hand grabbing your face?) and kissed me. It was long, hot, perhaps the best I could have ever had. You were moving me back and forth and we were kissing each other, perhaps, so passionately.

But then it was your way of breaking up.

Some three months ago you simply blurted out that you can't do this anymore, that you want to, that you no longer want me; you know, the usuals. It was like reading a book aloud or telling a friend how awful someone's clothing is. Nevertheless it was real, very real indeed.

Your first message.

It took some three months for it to happen. It took some three months, and you even have to be a little sober, for you to have the urge to finally reconnect with me. (But I still wonder why I never had the courage to do so, even.) But It's not like I care either. I have managed well enough to forget you, to not see you again.

I came.

I turned the shower knob to let the long and cold sprinkles of water pass on me. Then I thought about it. I thought about what you told me at around two in the morning some three months ago. You can't love me anymore, but things will never be the same. The words were ice cold. They just slip into me like water droplets.

I turned off the knob and reached for the bath towel. I dried myself and went out of the bathroom. I realized that I still have the boner, and when I looked up, you were already standing there.

Yes. It will never be the same again.

The Leaving.

2010-12-28T21:48:00.003+08:00

The door creaks open.

"I'm leaving." Robin says, sitting on the bed, with one large backpack atop his lap and a luggage bag on the floor.
"Oh, going where - Woah!" Frank gets to be surprised by what he's seeing, "You're leaving?"
"I believe I had already said that." Robin replies.
"No. No way, bro. No way." Frank walks in front of Robin and grabs his shoulders with both arms, "You are not going anywhere, not living anywhere, if it is not in this flat - why?"
"Cut the crap there, brother." Robin removes Frank's hands, and stands up, wears the backpack behind him and grabs the luggage, "I just, I - I have come to realize that I'll have to be by myself."

Then it occurs.
The most awkward pause happens in the life of Frank and Robin.
Robin takes a final stare at Frank, the entirety that he may not see for the rest of his life: those thick eyebrows, the stubborn black curls that actually make up for the hair, the big almond eyes, the reddish cheeks that gets redder in the morning when he sees it as he wakes up, the stumps of hair in his chin, the black jacket that was actually his own's and gave away on Frank's birthday, the white shirt beneath it (and wonders how many really were those white shirts of Frank are), the usual denim pants, the grey Supra shoes that he always envied. He looked at Frank.
Frank, on the other hand, takes a final gaze at Robin, the roommate he had come to trust and take for as his own brother that he never actually had, the best friend he had away from his hometown, the one he confides to, the man he just discovered one rainy evening lying, seeming to be dead, on his doorstep, the stranger that he accomodated, the stranger that he became comfortable to.
To Frank. Robin suddenly comes back to being that stranger: does he have to re-discover him and attend to him again, after seven months of incredible friendship and bortherhood that had been established between them? Does he have to see him again, perhaps tomorrow night, lying like a corpse on his doorstep, just after having a dinner date outside at his favorite restaurant that serves a lot of lobsters and crabs and red iced tea? In his head he asks the question: does Robin really have to go?

"Stop staring, you fucking twat." Robin says and pushes Frank with one hand, smiling.
"Stop staring at me too, you fucking perv." Frank says as he was pushed to sit on the bed. He smiles. "Just go."

"Now you're telling me to go. You really must be something." Robin says as he holds the doorknob.

"Go!" Frank shouts, smiling, "Go go go! Go now! Leave!"

"Okay then. Later." Robin's back disappeared from the space that is intended for the door to conceal the real world from the world filled with cereals and candies and beer and comfort and love, that is Frank's flat.

"Go," Frank mumbles, "because I don't want you to see me cry; because I will miss you, stupid brother."

Drink.

2010-11-13T22:58:00.002+08:00

He slammed the glass back on the table.

"Next shot goes to who?" he asked me, his bloodshot eyes directed at me in a very determined manner.

"Drink it," I replied, my eyes under my glasses directed back at him with the glasses failing to conceal the very emotion reflected by my eyes, my helpless eyes. It was just the two of us, in his unit, in the eve of his birthday. He poured in another round of beer, and drank. I, on the other hand, was just staring at him, observing how far will it take for him to get drunk already so that I can finally leave and enjoy the comfort of my own bed.

He slammed the glass back on the table again.

"Come on, drink." he said, "Even just once, so that I would look less pitiful."

He took the bottle and pours beer into the glass, handed it over to me. I took the glass and drank, then I looked at him. He was in tears.

My only impulse was to hug him tight, comfort him in that way with all the best that I can, to hug him just that. But we were sitting, a position that makes the awkward hugging of two men make it look more awkward, and more unlikely to happen. But he stood up and tried to wipe his tears with his lower arms.

"I'm sorry, bro." he told me, "It's just that -" But before he could even finish I was already hugging him tight and more tears seemed to flow from his eyes as he was hugging me back and softly hitting my back with his fist.

"Fuck it off," I said, "It's your birthday today."

"But I can't help it," he replied, in his tears, "Fuck! I can't! I can't! I just can't!!"

I did a few soft slaps in his back, just so his sobs will tune down, which were more audible than the series of 'fucks' he was uttering.

Then he raised his head from my shoulder and looked at me, his bloodshot eyes directed at me in a very determined manner.

I slammed the glass back on the table.

A different morning rush.

2010-10-11T16:38:00.003+08:00

The time was not just enough.

She took her purse, quickly and aimlessly sprayed some cheap cologne and went out of the door, panting, combing her hair with one hand and attempting to put on an earring using the other. The television noise gets to her nerves; her children, two boys aged ten and eight, were casually watching the usual morning cartoon show of a dumb cat trying to catch the smart mouse and ends up into more trouble. After succeeding in doing her multitasking trick, she pulls the plug of the television off. Her hand trembled. "We're leaving this house. Right now," she told her children, who then looked very shocked and confused. "There's no time left," she said as she grabbed both kids by the hand in the collars of their shirts, and dragged them near the main door. She slams the door open. Gunshots greeted the bland morning.

She dropped her sons on the floor, and she dropped dead.

The Breaking.

2010-09-25T01:29:00.003+08:00

Because tonight, we're dying.

Because tonight, we're going home.

Because tonight, we will be in deep sleep wrapped in each other's arms.

In each other's arms, we will lie.

In each other's arms, the happiness shall linger.

In each other's arms, we'll carry on.

We'll carry on, with the flight of birds.

We'll carry on, like what they did in the end.

We'll carry on.

Because tonight, we will be in deep sleep wrapped

In each other's arms.

PDA (Why We Just Won't Care)

2010-09-11T22:03:00.000+08:00

Public Display of Affection. Who’s affected, really?

Holding hands. Cuddlings. Strokes. Kisses. And then there goes your get-out-of-my-sight-because-I’m-plain-irritated stare. There goes the forehead wrinkles pointing to the nose, darkening the eyes and for a little while you whine and stomp a bit and you noisily flip the page of the book you’ve been trying to read and understand for hours already. From time to time you raise your head a little bit just too quickly to steal a glimpse of the couple, or perhaps the group of couples, or whatever was that in their loving that gives you that disgusted feeling.

Perhaps they’re just a bunch of unconcerned souls seeing nobody but their you-are-my-only-world partners, snuggling anywhere and anytime. Perhaps they’re bohemians, who believe in, above all things, love. Perhaps they’re non-conformists, battling the societal norms of conservative and oppressive behavior. Perhaps, it’s just your very own problem, not theirs.

So what was your problem, anyway? Does the very act of love - well, okay, perhaps it’s just lust or infatuation, but hell - hinder you from minding your own business? Does it stop you from doing what you were supposed to do, rather than taking time to look at them then just whine afterwards? Was that just bitter, envious perhaps? Was it your little version of voyeurism, then?

These PDAs doesn’t seem to be much of a negative externality than that of the noises people around make, disturbing you from doing what you should be doing, rather than the mere cuddling of a couple from the bench a bit far away. Besides, not everybody knows how to translate body language. Especially boys, see? Not everyone has the privilege to psych your actions out, to understand critically what you meant by flipping loudly the pages of your book. More likely then that they won’t care about you either. So it’s better to rely on the most direct way of communication: tell them to just stop, if it really bothers you that much. But first, try answering why you were bothered. Yes, it’s a matter of respect but people, we don’t know how much respect you expect from us. If you think PDA might be disrespectful, do you’re job by respectfully telling the culprit to move somewhere else, probably. Signs won’t work, seriously. People don’t interact with signs. People interact with people.

It’s either you confront them, or just don’t care.

Better Half.

2010-09-06T00:28:00.003+08:00

I remember the frustration-stricken days of my high school, where everything felt so dark and gloomy, where everything seems to be conspiring, where everything makes me feel alone. It was an era of sadness, of the most obscure emotions, of maximum volume radio played with burned CDs of alternative rock, times in the room pretending to study hard but all I did was shout and cry, constantly praying to God that this ill feeling of extreme loneliness would go off.

It's not that I don't have any friends. I have a lot. Ever since gradeschool I have a lot of friends, people who walk in and walk out. It's just that I had no companion, no one to talk to about my own problems, my own things I'm concerned of and bothered about. All I was, was just to simply be a confidant, a good listener, a drain of everything friends of mine have poured into. I was just a vent.

But none of these friends, not a single one of them, listened to my own troubles, comforted me of my own worries, joined me in my own unfortunate quests. Neither of them knew what I was going through, because nobody asked, nobody noticed, and perhaps nobody cared. Perhaps I was just a piece of blank paper everyone had written on, making me who they want me to be, who they need me to be for the moment.

The reasons for the tears were those. All my life, as it had probably seemed to be at least for me, I have been wanting to have a companion, a best friend, a brother, or perhaps a twin. I was looking for that friend who will walk in and for the first time in my life will be concerned for me, will notice my troubles, will listen to my problems, will help me get through it, perhaps everything I could also drain myself into. Perhaps I've been looking for everything my friends were making me into, perhaps I was looking for another me, for me.

Now I think I haven't got through with this problem, but rather I got along with it. It's something I might just have to live by, not as a miserable fate but as a identity-creating trait. Probably it's just gonna come, as what a lot of people would helplessly and mindlessly say, or probably it's just gonna stay as it is and remain a wish forever.

Whatever it may be, I think for now I just want to get along with my friends and discover more who could just listen to me and all that. Sometimes they can be annoying but there are extraordinary times that come more often than what's supposed to be ordinary, then some friends simply become my confidants, probably one of my super friends, seem to be a brother, perhaps a twin, a better half of me. And I guess I'll just have to live with that, for the moment. But still a part of me wishes for the same damn thing that has remained to be a wish, a silent murmur within me, since the old days of loud alternative music and sobbing in the room, covered up by my pillows in solitude mourning for my own fate.

The silence.

2010-09-01T02:23:00.002+08:00

It's 2 in the morning.

I wake up from a small dream, realizing that my left arm has been numb from your head sleeping on it. I decide to watch you as you sleep, as you breathe in and breathe out the air with pure tranquility. I watch as your chest moves up and down slowly, as your silent humming induced by your slumber invades the room. Then I raise my right arm to cuddle you, hold you tightly as you continue to sleep. I place my fingers to your lips, retracing the very exact lips I have kissed a while ago. I move them to your breasts, slowly travelling the curves down to your stomach.

Then as I might have already thought of, you wake up and find me circling your bellybutton with my right-hand fingers while my left arm feels the blood rush from being numb as used as your pillow. Before you open your mouth to speak of perhaps something sweet, I immediately kiss you, my hands looking for your hands, slowly assisting you to lay back down, my body above your body. But your hands reach for my neck, and your legs hanging on my back.

I can still feel the that same tiring feeling after we did that hours ago, but I also can still feel the same passionate exciting feeling.

I got the signal. I put away the blanket that covers us both, and you reach for me, my entirety within, and you kiss me back, hotter, harder. It's as if I can feel every bit of you, which I really do.

There's nothing else to remove. Everything's ready.

Here goes the second round.

The way I will hold your hand.

2010-08-02T02:48:00.003+08:00

You're my living addiction.

My sweetest chocolate; my daily dose of sugar.

You're the painter of my smile, which I keep on putting on.

My life maze; my grandest puzzle.

You're my chosen one.

My summer sunshine; my shining star.

I love you.

Bowtie.

2010-07-18T16:06:00.004+08:00

Bowtie Outfit

(as drawn by me)

I think I need to pursue this look for the next photoshoot (org aniversary). The problem is, I don't have the money yet to buy the things I need (spotted bowtie, vibrant and pastel-colored polo shirt, uhmm... skinny jeans or shorts, and uhmmm.... colossal ribbon for my head, perhaps?).

I suppose this is too perfect for me to achieve that "children's party" look, though it's a little bizarre. Believe me, it's simple. Really.

[PHOTO CREDITS | First photo: http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3470/3872402259_458a886d60_o.jpg; Second photo: (River Viiperi) http://fuckyeahriverviiperi.tumblr.com; Third photo: Mine, it's my careless drawing.]

But it's just a little...

2010-06-28T01:44:00.002+08:00

CRUSH.

It's just a little crush that I had on you that's why I try to gaze at you as you walk down the sidewalk, flipping your hair in that nothing-to-care-at-all fashion, with my breathing synchronized with the pace of your footsteps. It's just that stupid little crush on you that I can't help myself but stare at you as you open your lips and do your talk, with your friends, as you sit atop the table, minding no one else as you wear that happy expression. It's just that good-for-nothing little crush that I always adore you, that only God knows how happy I am to praise you after your job-well-done moment, without the very you knowing it.

Perhaps it's just that. But why do I seem to be consistently obsessed with you? Why do I try to unravel your mysteries as I continue to enter your name in search engines and find you in popular social networking sites, looking at your pictures, reading your posts, feeling your emotions? Why do I attempt to follow you as you go out the door and go anywhere you're planning to go, even though I don't know it myself? Why do I seem to be staring right at you even though I know that you have already suspected me doing it? Why do I seem to want you, to possess you, to have you right by my side at this very moment, to touch your skin, to hold your hand, to have a heartfelt conversation with you, to hug you, to caress you more, to play your hair, to lick your ears, to kiss you, to -

Could it still be just that damn little crush?

Love Apple.

2010-06-13T11:24:00.003+08:00

You said you love the smell of tomatoes.

I was just bored. All my friends were away and I was by myself. At that moment I didn't liked being alone, as I was, sitting in the lame white wooden chair sipping my order of white hot chocolate, reading the headline story of yesterday's newspaper. Then there was you, carelessly flipping your hair as you sit at the far opposite, waiting for your cup of coffee and probably thinking what next to do after this first thing in the morning. We were the only customers at the shop, so I collected enough confidence and grabbed my mug and threw the brown-stained newspaper on my table and I walked towards you. It was surprising, though, that your eyes stayed on what you were looking at for moments ago and never even bothered to see the one coming before I asked "Could I have a seat with you?".

You weren't surprised. You just turned your head to look at me, straight into my eye as I felt it. You displayed a very wonderful smile and said "Sure.". I returned your smile and sat down at the chair next to you. I bombarded you with interesting conversations. We talked and talked, learned about each other's lives, and fell to each other's traps of capture. And I, as I honestly say, was deeply captivated by you.

It was noon when we just stared at each other, and after realizing what we were doing we just smiled and laughed at ourselves. I said "Oh, it's nearly noon! Do you want to have lunch at my place?" and you said "Why, sure! I certainly miss home-cooked food since I moved here!" and I said "Alright then." and I, smiling, stood and took your hand and opened the passenger-seat door of my car and let you in and I got in to the driver's seat and before I could plug in the key into its hole and start the engine, you forcefully grabbed my face with both of your hands and kissed me. It was hot, your lips was. Your hands, hunting all over my body, were extremely hot too. I was unable to move probably due to shock of being kissed by a sudden acquaintance. Then you moved back. Looked down as if you were embarassed by yourself and you said "I love the smell of tomatoes.".

You said you love the smell of tomatoes.

Breach of contract.

2010-06-07T23:46:00.003+08:00

[Hil's blog gets me inspired to write more posts. Haha.]

I already stopped loving you.

Or so I said.

Haven't we agreed on this long before? I can clearly remember it all:

No more conversations, especially at night.

No more staring in each other's eyes.

No more exclusive walks together.

No more holding hands.

No more hangouts.

No more sleepovers.

No more hugs.

No more kisses - especially French.

No more caressing.

No more foreplay.

And of course, yes, no more sex, and everything else related to that.

No more 'us'.

But then how can you explain what happened just that night?

How can you explain why you grabbed me by the hand from my sitting at the waiting shed?

How can you explain why you hugged me so tight that I felt like I don't want to ever let you go while I know inside me that I'm supposed to be on a date, meeting the girl that could be my everlasting, my wife, the one I'll be happy to be with for the rest of my life?

How can you explain why your hands travelled up my face, pulled it near yours, gazed at me for a while, and kissed me?

But then, how can I explain why I did not untangle my fingers from your clasp?

How can I explain why I hugged you back, oh so tight, that, yes, I don't want to ever let you go even though I know so consciously that I may be losing the best girl I could ever have in my life?

How can I explain why my hands travelled up and down your body and remained at your breasts, and how can I explain why I so wanted not to move my lips back but instead kiss you for what is like forever?

How can I explain why I seemed to fall in love with you again?

Uninspired.

2010-05-16T21:33:00.002+08:00

Just as much as I thought that I could be oh so active in blogging whole summer, it was the entire opposite. Actually, looking at my archive count on the right of this page, this half-year has been a horrible blogging slowdown. What could have caused this, anyway? Perhaps I went too far on getting myself busy, really busy to think of something to post. Or maybe I lost my mind through all the work I was immersed into and expected of.

But I believe that I'm just a little uninspired. It's a scary condition, especially to those who regularly writes, for passion, for requirement, for hobby, for practice, for profession.

Just as how much I wanted to believe in other factors, I think I'm just a whole lot uninspired. I have no mind, no will to press the letters of the keyboard and make up another story, another poem, another rant, at the least. It's just that I may have exhausted my mind in all the problems and the responsibilities that has been bugging me for all these months. A whole lot of complex things has kept me from revolving into the things that I wanted. A lot of things kept me inside a box of restriction. They may have opened up some opportunities but they were rather unattainable, due to a lot of constraints, or rather too pragmatic and thus irritating.

The times, they may have been bad. But still I have to find a vent to escape from all this heat and entrapment. Oh well. I wish I could promise that I would be an active blogger after my freaking exam in Chemistry 1 tomorrow. To those who view this as soon as possible, oh please grant me all the luck and wisdom and knowledge that I need for tomorrow! :D

Hello, tan lines. (Hello, summer. When shall I say goodbye?)

2010-05-09T21:48:00.003+08:00

Summer has bever been like this: occasional overnights to anywhere, wild moments with friends and not-so-friends, initial drinkings of alcoholic beverages, lonely dorm nights, internet insomnia, frequent emotional imbalances, plunging flow of money, pseudo-part-time jobs, meeting/hating/befriending new acquaintances, camping, swimming, getting ultimately distinguishable tan lines. Both are enjoyable and not enjoyable. Seriously. In so far, this could have been the best summer I had lived into, even though it has not yet ended.

Occasional overnights to anywhere

Of course, these are some of the things no one in my family knows about. By chance or by occasion (e.g. debut party, planning activity, etc.) I tend to go out very frequently, and go back home in the morning. It's a fresh start (or not, actually) to being able to stand alone and think for myself, without any external factors hindering me from doing what I choose to do.

Wild moments with friends and not so friends, initial drinking of alcoholic beverages

The summer heat makes the season wilder. Wild moments happen a lot of times, by any chance and by any means. Haha. I would probably miss those things when I get busier next semester. However, I started to accept drinking, but not as a habit but as an acceptable, tolerable, and controllable activity. I don't drink because of peer pressure or something. It's just that I choose to try and feel how it tastes like and probably get an excuse for doing something crazy. XD

Lonely dorm nights, internet insomnia

Having no roommate is a privilege. Seriously. It gets you concentrated and gives you total control on the order inside the room. However, it creates a crisis. I don't do all my tasks well, and not on time, really. I always sleep late due to LAN internet access and a lot of things interesting to see in there. Perhaps I should move being responsible later.

Frequent emotional imbalances, plunging flow of money, pseudo-part-time jobs

For some reason, I easily spark off my temper, and get things out of control. But a lot of times I simply get low energy and just won't talk, or won't move my eyes, and I would just probably stay silent and after a while prop myself to sleep. Making matters worse is the rapid outflow of my money allowances, making me hang on to almost entirely nothing for survival, plus, the STFAP (Student Tuition Fee Allocation Program) transferred me from Bracket C (P600 per unit) to a deadly Bracket B (P1000 per unit, then I might probably get 18 or 21 units, so how's that?) and I might not even make it to enrolling next semester, since we really can't afford everything. So with that I panicked and applied to ideal part-time jobs, and I got into two, where in the first one I have to make online reviews while on the second one I have to make academic papers. I wasn't working yet again so maybe that's a blow.

Meeting/hating/befriending new acquaintances

The summer classes and events make me meet a whole lot of people, awesome or not. And I always try my best to use the law of attraction to those who I want to be friends with. Haha. Familiarization. But I got something hanging there. Maybe I obtained a huge ego, and that's foul enough to turn down a friendship.

Camping, swimming, getting ultimately distinguishable tan lines

The PE 2 - Camping class is awesome, in the sense that I get to camp out and do things I might not even normally do even when out on the beach (yes, because we were always on the beach, and on the mountains). It's all so crazy. Swimming was the best part of it, however it really turned a risk to my arms. I have another set of tan lines, after that elementary set that still has not gotten off. Oh well. Better live with this. Besides, that's what summer is for. :)

Katipunan II

2010-04-07T22:56:00.000+08:00

Happy endings are so passé. It was rather unattainable. As I thought, there would be not any happy ending for us, because we will last forever. But then, I realized that the last clause of the sentence should be simply cut off. It's not real. It's not forever. It's not a happy ending either. We're not gonna end up together.

5.42 PM

There's just too much people on a Friday afternoon at the Faculty Center waiting shed. I decided to take a seat on one of those green slabs since I won't get in any jeepney just yet anyway. There's just too much people.

It's been almost two months from now after we broke up. Yes, that odd girl from Spanish 11 of first year, we broke up. I thought we'd be happy together, viewing the entirety of Katipunan avenue on that blue Ateneo footbridge, holding our hands forever, sitting beside each other, simply listening to what's around us. But it was just a realized pipe dream. Those happy memories of time long gone just haunt me, like how it scares me to death to see a dead cat on the roadside or how it almost broke me to lose my wallet on my first Lantern Parade when I had just got my seven-thousand peso Christmas money from Dad. It's all gone and lifeless.

Should I even think that it broke my heart? From that morning she called me on the phone to tell me that she wanted to break up with me, I have never been so unstable as before. It's when everytime someone leaves you, you just get lost all of a sudden. Equilibrium lost me, too. I didn't know what I was thinking then, really. I was doing silly things like throwing my phone on the garbage container even if she had not hung up the call yet, crossing the road without even looking out for speeding cars, and accidentally breaking my eyeglasses when I was hurriedly running to class and I hit it badly on the corridor wall. Wearing contact lenses now just adds up to my carelessness problems, since I often doze off without any clue. I suppose it wasn't being bitter. Perhaps it's from being shocked instead, that even for the last person that I would want to love would still leave me hanging in this world by myself.

6.04 PM

Daylight flees to give way to the other celestial illuminants, and I'm still here sitting in the ugly green slab waiting for the people to go off. I know that I should've walked to the terminal near Benitez Hall instead, but I'm just too tired and at least I could rest my feet for a little while. Besides, it reminds me of our strolls and those other memories that I had junked into the garbage can along with my cell phone, that I just wanna have in my hand again, scroll to the never-erased messages and cherish the events I had marked in its calendar, and stare into the gallery's photographs and remember those days. Sometimes, I regret it. But maybe it's just what it should be.

Okay. So I might just have exaggerated it. Ever since that incident I had never been to Katipunan Avenue ever again, nor rode that red-roofed jeepney. So under the banner of moving on for a cause, I decided to go to Katipunan to spend the whole weekend at my best friend's place. I'm not so sure if I had actually moved on. Yes, I'm getting my life back from being disoriented. It's roughly eight weeks, and a lot of things had already happened. There's nothing to look back. There must be nothing to worry about. It's not like I cried over spilled milk. Tears have dried even before they came out. It's over. We were over.

6.07 PM

The jeepney is surprisingly spacious on a Friday dusk. I feel very tired that I just want to sleep, but ever since I was independent in going places, I've been always bad at sleeping while on a trip. If I attempt to sleep at this very moment, I might just repeat what I did when I was in third year high school that the driver even have to wake me up at the terminal, which was, by the way, too far from our house. Good thing I'm listening to music from my iPod. By paying attention to the music I can kill the drowsiness and let it die away.

Two months isn't that long anyway. It still feels like the usual Katipunan ride that I always take every Sunday to eat out or to go the Cubao or Marikina. It's still the usual thing where it's too seldom to see anyone I know. It's nothing new. It's - Wait. Is that her? She sure became prettier. We practically tried to avoid each other somehow and now she seems to be running to this jeepney. Oh no. Man, no. Okay. She successfully got in, and I can't hide. There's no way I can hide even just my face. Oh great. She sat beside me. How fated was that.

So what's it that I'm gonna do now? All of a sudden I feel like a dork. I let her break6 up with me without even listening to what else she was about to say in that call, particularly the reason why she broke up with me. I feel so stupid for eliminating contact with her even if it might appear to be alright anyway. I can see globules of sweat over my arms and I can feel the butterflies in my stomach. This is all so crazy. Damn, it feels like what Miley Cyrus "felt" in Party in the U.S.A.

6.12 PM

"Oh, it's you," she says, finally noticing me after a few moments of my sweating from anxiety. "Oh, yeah," I reply, finally looking at her face too, but just in a short glance. "It's been a long time since, isn't it?" She tells me. Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. "I'm sorry," she says some more. How come she tells me what I'm about to tell her? "Sorry for what?" I ask, acting like I had totally moved on and forgot that even for some four months we were together. Yeah, that was actually short to remember much of but I definitely know what a lie it would be. "For that call," she then replies, holding my hand that restlessly lies above my left knee. I turned my head back at her. W-why? I wanted to ask her why but I no sounds come out of my mouth, and instead I just gaze at her face, seemingly looking for the answers that obviously were not there.

"Forget it," I crack out, even though I really want to know her own reasons. "Yeah, I guess so," she agrees, and finally I see her smile again, that smile that for a lot of nights I've been missing so much when I'm lying in my bed reminiscing about the past, about our happy yet short memories, or that for some times in class I look out the open AS door and gaze at the sky that's peeking through the trees that reaches out to it amidst their constant fall of leaves. "So where're you heading?" I ask, trying to change the mood that we immersed ourselves into. "I'm going to Manila," she replies, "to a friend's party." I simply nod at what she had just said. I did not listen at all. Or I am unable to, since beside the jeepney is a speeding truck that distracts me from paying attention to her voice, the voice that even in the shower I thought calls me, the voice that even talks to me in my sleep when I'm in the Main Library - General Reference Section just after I send the crammed term paper of 6 sleepless hours to my professor's Gmail account.

6.25 PM

It's a Friday evening and we all know how Katipunan becomes a depressed sink hole of cars every now and then. And now I'm beside her again, and I deeply pray that this jeepney would run slower than everyone else, just so I could savor this moment, the only moment that's happening, which may not happen to us ever again.

I catch her staring at me. "What?" I ask, thinking if she was waiting an answer from me to an unheard question. "You seem to be so bothered," she says, without any other extra feat, just her lips artistically opening and closing at certain lengths. "Sorry," I apologized, "I guess I wasn't paying that much attention to anything."

6.38 PM

The slow flow of traffic is really getting to my nerves. I feel very uneasy right now, especially that I'm beside the woman I loved, and lost. For a long while there was no questions, no remarks, no voices. It becomes awkward around here as the minutes go by.

"It gets awkward, huh?" she says - how come she knows what I was exactly thinking? "Uh," I reply, "yeah. It does seems like." Then she smiled as I looked at her for a bit. Then her smile made me smile. Then my smile made her do a little laugh. Then it made me laugh a little too. Funny, as it is, that it becomes a game without us noticing it.

6.40 PM

"Hey," I call to her, "I wanna know why." "What why?" she replies, and I laugh. "Why you broke up," I say. "I thought you just want to forget about it," she says, and that reply just seemed to be silly to me. Or it made me feel like I'm silly. Of course I told her that we'll forget that. Of course I'm moving on, forgetting that myself, and that's why I'm hanging out with my best friend instead, finally after a lot of busy weeks that we had. Of course, what am I even thinking?

In a little while I'll be going down this jeepney and I might never see her face as close as this again. This might be the last time that I would fall for her, for the smile and the eyes and that sweet little face that I had missed for so long. Maybe it must all boil down to something. Maybe the feeling really should fade away. And maybe we don't have to stick together too just like what we usually do. Maybe this is just the way it is.

6.42 PM

"I'm leaving you now," I tell her, as I already see the blue Ateneo footbridge and the other establishments around, "someone's waiting for me." She smiled, as I expected. I pulled the string on the ceiling of the jeepney to signal the driver to hit the brake. "Goodbye," I say. Before I could even raise my body to move out of the vehicle, I'm very sure that I heard her say "I miss you so much." I know. I must know that. I missed her too. And I probably will miss her still.

Katipunan.

2010-03-19T22:04:00.001+08:00

It was past eight in the dark and the sidewalk crowd rushed against me. I was trying to be careful not to drop the chocolate sundae I bought from Mini Stop and the people were making an effort to be careful too, this time to make sure they make it on the LRT immediately. Sometimes it feels like the world is conniving, that it's time to go home. So I did. And I hate to cross the street. Really. Vehicles just wouldn't bother; they don't see anything anyway.

The jeepney terminal was death in silence. I dug out seven peso coins from my back pocket, where I usually just drop coins and other small stuff. Then as I enter I realized that there weren't that much people at all. There were just five of us in the inert vehicle. I sat on the corner by the exit, which was my favorite spot since I don't have to bother myself attempting to reach the handles above and I can rest my back either on the sides or where it normally should be. The others were normally sitting, quite impatiently waiting for the jeep to go off, except for one who was lying down on the far end. It seems like he's no passenger at all. As usual I was minding my own business again. I finished helping myself with that damn chocolate sundae, which was rapidly dripping, faster than I could eat it. And while eating it I had to move up my glasses back in place again for a lot of times. As I keep the tissue in my pocket, someone called me and sat beside me. "Oh hey," I said back, "Where're you heading?"

It was that girl who always sat in front of me in Spanish 11 when I was in first year, second semester. She was the girl I had a crush on and I humiliated myself on that year's Valentine's Day confessing my love to her. As I think of it now, it was rather the stupidest mistake I ever made.

"I don't know," she replied, "I just feel like riding anywhere." She smiled at me. I didn't know what she was really up to, but it was indeed strange. "Cool," I said. Then I bowed my head and looked down. I noticed that she wasn't moving away her head from looking at me. It has been three years, and now, as I was thinking in my head, is she trying to seduce me? I felt her touching my chin, then I slightly shivered. I looked back at her. "What is it?" I asked. She just smiled. What was that? I wasn't raised to interpret her body language. It sure was strange. "How about I sleep over at your place tonight?" she asked. "That can't be," I said, "I'm a dormer." "Then stay over at my place then," she said with another smile. I could not understand. What was she up to, really? Seeing that I was drowned in my deepest thoughts again, she uttered some more. "Come on, stay over," she said, "Because I feel too lonely."

With her words I felt the same loneliness that she was talking about. After she released those meaningful sounds that my mind interpreted as 'because I feel too lonely,' I answered her, "For how long do you want me to stay over?" and she replied, "As long as you wanted to." The engine started since the seats were already filled, and she and I just looked at each other in the dim lights of the interior as the jeepney cruised the avenue. "Then for how long will you keep staring at me in the face?" I asked, somehow being naughty, but I never expected her reply: "Forever." I felt my eyes grew large a bit as she said that word. It felt like a joke, but then it felt like a trick, a trap, something weird, something bad.

I moved my stare away from her. She moved her hand over mine. I didn't know what to do. So I just smiled. I made sure she saw that. She placed her other hand over my glasses to remove it. "Carefully, please," I said. "You look better that way," she commented. "What are you up to?" I asked her. But she did not listen. Instead, she moved her head back and looked outside the window. The breeze sweeps her straight soft hair towards me. "We're here," she said as she slightly raised her hip to pull down the string that will stop the vehicle.

"What are you exactly doing?" I asked, somehow pissed off by this lovely strangeness of her pulling me up the blue Ateneo footbridge and doing all the other things tonight on me. But still I made sure to create an impression that I was already angry. I noticed that she clenched my eyeglasses a little bit harder. I noticed that she was also a bit taller than me too, which made it a lot weirder when she held my face with her both hands. Then she kissed me. Then she moved back. "You're blushing too much," she said. I should have known, I'm almost white-skinned and I get drunk red so easily. But I got so carried away that I haven't felt the blood rushing rapidly within me. I took hold of her jaw and kissed her again. It felt like time stopped and for a while I thought I lost my hearing. I had not realized that she accidentally dropped my eyeglasses, because, at that time, that kiss was what only mattered.

She pushed my head back, and apologized. "You can go home now," she told me, as she picked my eyeglasses from the cement floor, and fortunately it was not broken. "But why this all of a sudden?" I asked, as I wore the glasses again.. She said that she'll walk me home. "What about you?" I said. She just looked at me for a while. "What are you thinking?" I asked again. I didn't mind asking another question after an unanswered one. "You don't want to know that," she said. "Why do you want me to stay with you?" I asked, once more. By the way she looked it seemed to be inexplicable. "Remember the time you told me you love me?" she asked me. "Yeah, of course," I replied, "You practically humiliated me in the face of the whole CAL lobby." She looked at me again, straight into my eyes. I somehow felt a strange kind of attachment to her whenever we look at each other. It was different, peculiar. It was - "wanted you since then," - wait a minute. "What? What did you just say?" I said, because I haven't heard what she fully said. She said she wanted me. For real? "I said, I wanted you since then," she repeated, "but we haven't seen each other in a long while so I somehow forgot about it myself." I felt my blood rushing again all over my body. She is one too peculiar.

As she spoke to me those words I felt her loneliness again. I realized that I was also lonely all this time, and by being together maybe we could fight it off. I held her hand and we sat in the middle of the footbridge, and gazed at the sky, at the road, at each other. Everything seemed to be silent. And this silence had been the best of all.

*Because it wasn't included in Salidsid, the Sinag-CSSP literary folio, I can now post this entry freely. :)

Ignorance and Displacement.

2010-03-10T22:53:00.001+08:00

It's odd and annoying at the same time.

It feels like the world is in a conspiracy.

I again for some thought do not know who my real friends are, who they could be, and why they just don't seem so.

I don't know why friends should be called friends when they just disappear at times you need them, dump you after they used you, leave you hanging without a clue. I don't know how friends can take that but hell, I'm too tired of listening to others without anyone listening to me. I'm tired of attitudes, egos, pride. I wanna vomit all the lies they have to make just not to make it look bad but still I know what a lie it was and how awful they really are. I'm sick of self-appraisal, false cares, irrational thinking, superrational thinking, indestructible worldviews, closed-mindedness.

[My. Shut the mouths of those nerds! Irritating.]

I wouldn't want to care anymore.

Getting it all back.

2010-03-01T00:32:00.002+08:00

Finally, it's March. The past few months were abusively spent on almost sleepless weeks of horrible tasks and studying. I lost time for myself. Rather, it was a struggle for survival, not necessarily for me, but for accomplishing responsibilities and maintaining a desirable academic grade. I kinda lost time for my own self, my own interests, and the things that really pleases me. I was busy facing the laptop screen creating publicity materials and identification cards, kept myself in my room (which is better as I found out) rewriting notes and highlighting my Economics book, drowning myself in a rush of thoughts and battle of concepts, attending org activities, occasionally cutting classes, little visits to the library, walking here and there, shouting at friends, getting irritated by everyone's attitudes, panicking from time to time, rushing every work to be done, stealing few hours for sleep (and in class too), and eating and spending too much. Even eating and sleeping aren't leisure stuff anymore. They became tasks to be done for survival. Everything I did then was all for survival. Leisure seemed to be too expensive: I cannot afford it, along with the lineup of tasks that await me.

There floated in front of me a high opportunity cost of substituting work for leisure. Risks await me for every action that I do. It's like taking a journey on an upward-sloping (supply curve?) pavement filled with vines that would easily trap me and make me immobile. Assessing myself, I seem to be vulnerable to all pressures, yet I seem to be strong enough to outlive them.

Damn. A lot of challenges have already passed and a lot more are coming in. But I want to get a grip of my life first. I should steer, not row!

If it's not gonna work,

2010-01-27T08:15:00.002+08:00

Let me know.

Let me know how failing we are.

Let me know all the trouble that I had caused you.

Let me know that you don't want me anymore.

Let me know how stupid I am.

Let me know that I am a jerk.

Let me know how much you used to love me.

Let me know how much you hate me.

Let me know that it's gonna linger forever.

Let me know that you never wanted to see me again.

Let me know that you loathe me.

Let me know.

It's totally okay.

My life is full of pain anyway, so why not add up to it?

All I See are Lines and Curves.

2010-01-24T21:34:00.000+08:00

I woke up to the ringing of the phone. Mom. Alarm.

Yeah, I’ll get up to bed, I said. I did not.

I was staring at the ceiling, gazing at the lines.

Lines and curves that haunt me.

I got out of bed and dragged myself into the shower.

Someone played such an awful song.

I hurried to go out of the cubicle.

My general instruction was not to let these examinations ruin my day. Never.

I tried to open the book.

In a very little time, law of diminishing returns might tell me that it’s not good to study now.

More inputs, less outputs.

I went to school, walking against the stream of joggers in the human-car avenue.

I managed to avoid externalities. I managed to be just calm.

I read a bit again. Review. Or so I called it.

Walk in, walk in, they said. Walk in.

The room was rather too bright. Too peaceful.

In the middle of staring at the empty questions my eyes closed.

It wasn’t that hard, isn’t it, a colleague remarked.

Yeah, right, I said. Really.

Next one’s gonna come, I remembered.

I’m not ready.

I haven’t read anything good.

I haven’t tried to understand.

It was rather a big pain.

A big pain it was.

Migraine invaded me.

The calm look of before started to be terrorized by worry-lines.

I haven’t prepared for the curves.

Lunch.

We walked for lunch. Real lunch.

By the time we came back, there was no more time.

Scans, scans, scans.

I thought I need more time.

I realized I needed divine intervention.

It was time.

Walk in, walk in.

Once inside, abandon all hope.

The resonant trembling in my head paralyzed me in the chair.

It was rather not for thinking, but for dying.

Answer sheets. Questionnaires.

The cold air seemed to wage war with my awkward heat.

Fuck, what was that? How come I forgot to read this part before?

Firms. Competition.

Marginal. Fixed. Average.

Cost. Revenue.

My inside self went on searching.

Answers. Ideas. Correct ones.

There were hardly any.

I just wanted to explode into small pieces.

Oh how lovely.

Two hours passed and I was more awkward.

As awkward as ever.

The proctor playfully went to and fro the room.

He seemed to be entertained by our answer sheets.

I was trying to give him my don’t-try-to-look-at-me-or-even-go-near aura.

It failed.

Of course, I can’t cast it to him with my eyes.

I’m too busy trying to understand how things work.

Two and half hours.

I was dying to go out of the room.

It was rather hell.

Ten minutes before third hour.

I stood up. Gave my papers.

I wanted to show him my awesome get-off-me stare.

But I attempted to be as calm as ever.

I went out.

How I dreamed of banging the door.

How I wish I could just blame the proctor.

But I can never do that.

The marginal utility might not justify the marginal utility.

2010-01-08T00:07:00.003+08:00

For quite a long while I have been so much of a lazy irresponsible person. It started this December, glorified itself during the holiday break, and kills me this January when the classes just came back.

Holiday break of Christmas and New Year's Day was all sleep, eating, and if not hours in the malls it'd be hours on the bed, either eyes open in front of a laptop playing the Sims 3 or in a vain attempt to log on to the internet or asleep and will then wake up with hands freaking out of only God knows what.

I had a lot of things to do then (that was extended until now). I don't know what to start. My whole body is painful everyday. I feel tired and sleepy everyday. How could I even do better with this? Argh.

I guess I just wanted to be a little bit romantic.

2009-12-07T01:02:00.002+08:00

I had this self-proclaimed Abolition of Lovelife Week. I don't know exactly why I did this on purpose, I mean, I think I don't have to. Or maybe it is just the aftermath of a week-long anger mode.

But then again, as this week ended, I realized that I wanted to fall in love - well, again, for this matter. I'm not so sure if I wanted to be hurt or something. I just wanted to.

Maybe it's some sort of searching for a lighter mode, especially after cloaking myself into a dark cloth of angst, a wage of war against everything.

This is totally weird.

I'm not liking any girls again, not yet.

I think I'm way too picky, or something. I always had problems with other people's attitudes, and maybe that's the way I should be. I have my own and I just don't reach an equilibrium point with others. Oh please.

I'm kinda crushing on this friend of mine that I've been seeing in slow pulses. Surprisingly, she's mature and fine - but only when we're alone together. In the presence of others, her childish side can at every way be irritating. (And I hate children, remember?) So maybe I just have to wait.

But I feel like I've been left behind. People I know are slowly having partners (which I know will leave you, let's see) and I'm left in this solitary world bitter in life and filled with dying hope. God, why can't I just simply fall in love?

In the darkness of the dawn.

2009-11-23T03:02:00.003+08:00

I was born, seventeen years ago, in a white room. I came out of my mother's womb fully naked, wet in blood. I was born without speech, except for some wails that I have no idea of what it was or what it was for. I was born without the proper thinking, careless, carefree. I was born, taken out from in between my mother's legs, a time of great pain.

Now I am seventeen, and no matter how bright things appear, darkness surrounds me. Now I am fully clothed, barely wet. Now I can speak three or four languages, always in the best attempt to understand what I was listening or saying. Now I can ponder, though anxious, insecure. Now I'm searching what was between one's legs, a time of great pleasure.

Why don't you know?

2009-11-06T21:49:00.002+08:00

I have this hateful feeling. I feel it everytime this certain person comes around. Right now we won't speak to each other. I wouldn't even care turning my head to see you. I wouldn't even try to open my mouth and say a word to you. I wouldn't care batting an eyelash on your new shirt. I wouldn't care.

It's just that I couldn't help hiding in my room crying.

I feel like I'm such a big dork.

I am. I hate being that.

IT just ain't me. Or it's not what I wanted myself to be.

I hate it.

I hate your eyes. I hate your hair. I hate your lips. I hate your cheeks - your cratered cheeks, remember. I hate you ears. I hate your neck, and the necklace you wear it with. I hate you, I guess.

But that doesn't mean that I'm over you. I do wish I was. Sometimes I think I am. But everytime I tell myself I'm over you I become more convinced that I'm not.

We're not friends. Who were you fooling, then? How come you can still say we were? There's no us. There's no friendship.

Nothing. Not anymore.

I know you know that I keep on screwing it up. But I wish you realized that you're not the world. I realized that earlier on the way. You're not the world. If something is discouraging, it is. I as a friend wouldn't care turning a discouragement into its opposite. Life isn't that way. I'm grown with that fact. You made me believe it.

Thank you for not caring. That's just all I needed to counteract what I wanted. I may keep on wanting you to care about me but it's not it. It won't be real. It won't matter.

Perhaps as to others I may say 'later', with you I'd be glad to say 'goodbye'.

Let's go home.

2009-10-22T11:40:00.002+08:00

It's Thursday noon.
I have to go to Pasig tomorrow. (Oh no!)
By Saturday I'll be HOME.
But then I might be idle, for sometime.
And I just do hope that my plans and wishes may come true. I do.

Mutual II

2009-10-14T19:37:00.002+08:00

He stares at his face - as they both lay beside each other, filling the bed that was neither big for one nor small for two. It's dawn. He woke up because he felt the numbing of his arm, to where the other man lays his head. Josh must be glad, then. The feeling is mutual.

It already happened before; it can't happen once more. Eric, still asleep, draws away his hand from Josh's. Josh had lost his sleep, his silent slumber. This feeling intoxicates him more, more than what it was before. And in the silence he remembers.

"Why'd you move your hand away?" Eric asked Josh as he grabbed back his hand. Josh just smiled and kissed Eric.

"Will you love me?" Eric asked Josh. Silence fell. Josh wanted to say 'yes' but something holds him back. "Because I do," Eric continued, "We'll take long walks together, holding each other's hands, and in the lamplight we'll stare at each other's eyes, letting our heartbeats make the music."

Josh fixed his glance at Eric. Eric's eyes were too difficult to decipher. All Josh knew was that he savored that very moment, where every motion felt to be so right, that nothing can take them away from each other, that no society can misjudge their relationship and them as individuals.

He plays Eric's hair, exploring his head wishing to uncover the mysteries that lie with its thoughts. Josh's fingers travel across his face, his left ear, his nose, his lips. Josh nears his own head, slowly and carefully. Then he locks his lips to Eric's.

It was like Sleeping Beauty, though it only was the opposite of it. Eric wakes up, eagerly avoids Josh's lips. The kisser is astonished, confused.

"Get off!" Eric commands while grabbing his own clothes from the floor.

"You told me you love me and now you don't!" Josh excalims, "What now, Eric? What's wrong??"

"This," Eric says as he gets up, "is wrong! What will they think of you?"

"That, the society?" Josh says, "Ha! Nonsense! You freed me from the entrapment!"

"I don't love you anymore!" Eric says, "How many times will you need to absorb that?"

BANG. Josh buries his face, in his blooded hands, sobbing.

In two weeks.

2009-10-10T22:06:00.004+08:00

I'll be home in two weeks' time. Yey for that!

Oh I just can't wait any longer to go home.

But first, I'd tell you about what happened in the last two weeks.

27 September, Sunday - It was Joshua John Bautista's birthday, and I forgot to greet him. Typhoon Ondoy (international name Ketsana) wrecked Metropolitan Manila and some parts in Luzon since the day before. Floods everywhere were knee-high, chest-high, two-storeys high. It was a very devastated scenario, with billions of pesos worth in damages. This day I went to the mall (it was sunny, and it was as if the roads weren't flooded) and just went there. I can't remember if I bought something specific (apparently, I'm writing this entire post today). I was pissed off. Well, someone pissed me off. And I was dumped. Totally. But the piss-off part went away, though. It seems that when you finally let it out of your chest, you can finally let it go away.

28 September, Monday - It was my sister's birthday, and she's now 24 years old. Wow. Classes were suspended for what - a week! Heaven heaven, eh? It was also Collen Faye Puspus' birthday. She's now 17.

29 September, Tuesday - I could not remember. Oh, I just did. It was Ranel Irvin Toledo's 18th birthday. He treated us (his barkada with me along) at Yellowcab Pizzeria at U.P.-AyalaLand TechnoHub. Then we had more fun time at Timezone. It was totally fun, superb. Really.

30 September, Wednesday - It was Archie Jerome Maramag and Conrad Miguel Gozalo's birthday. There. As if they treated me. Not. Haha.

01October, Thursday - The wood supporting my bed got broken. This day we went to the Church of the Risen Lord to volunteer for the victims of typhoon Ondoy. It was spearheaded by the University Student Council and Sagip Isko. I was with Ranel Irvin Toledo, Colleen Faye Puspus, and Eladio Anino V. When we got there, we were instructed to go to the Barangay Hall of Barangay U.P. Campus, then we were blown away to Barangay Bagong Silangan, Quezon City to survey the affected communities. There we walked for miles - okay, maybe some kilometers only. We have seen the affected communities and have heard their stories. The scenario was heartbreaking, and highly alarming. We walked on burak (mud mixed with trash) and went to the boundary of Quezon City and San Mateo, Rizal. It was too far to say. When we reached back at the dorm, we were already dead-tired and craving for Jollibee. Then we remembered that it was Mary Rose Johana Samas' 18th birthday when she went down and gave us some Brazo de Mercedes cake. Yum yum! Since I seem to be unable to sleep in my own bed, I have to ask my friend to let me sleep in his room.

02 October, Friday - I can't remember what I did today. It was Mark Robert Baldo's birthday. There.

03 October, Saturday - It was Brielle Shane Flores and Cyrielle Claire Machan's birthday. Typhoon Pepeng changed its course and spared the places that were struck by typhoon Ondoy. Regarding my day, I can't remember what I did too.

04 October, Sunday - I went to SM City North Edsa and was totally bored that I brought myself a new shirt that was way too small for me. What. And, was this the day that Pinoy Big Brother Double Up started? Ugh. People are so whatever, enjoying watching humans-turned-hamsters whatever. Ugh. So annoying.

05 October, Monday - It was my last meeting in CWTS1-Anthro. There.

06-09 October - Can I not talk about this stuff? They're all the same (or I'm getting tired of doing this stuff.)

10 October - I slept all day. I went to SM City North Edsa supposedly to buy food stuff, and I had a very hard time hailing a taximeter cabriolet by night. Right now people are watching that PBB thing and I'm so annoyed at them making fun of those in the house who are making fun of themselves. What. Oh. Haven't I told you yet about the people in the house? Ugh. Very stereotypical. Before they enter, they were already given their 'brand' names. For example, one is branded as the hunk of this place, the funny girl of that, and whatsoever. They were given a very specific part of their identity. People, we are complex beings, okay? We won't be hunks nor good-hearted forever. What were you guys thinking? Trying to sell people?

In the next two weeks (apparently before I go home), it'd be a big whoa of winds. Next week will be my hell week. The other will be my free week (which may entail hell too since I might not be maintaining my money that time).

As you can see, this week's schedule is up there. I can't find a way on how to make that thing go here. Oh well.

I'd be flying back home by 24 October, 7.00 in the morning. I'd be riding on a Philippine Airlines Airbus. Oh I can't wait to go home. Sure enough, a lot of things had changed and/or added in the city. Robinsons' Place General Santos opened last 02 October and I just can't wait to see it. Oh well. I'll be home, for sure. I love it. :D

If we're all for love, how come there are foridden ones?

2009-10-09T21:11:00.002+08:00

I don't know why we love. I don't know why there are forbidden ones. I hate this society. I hate this society for being so oppressive and -.

Elaborate it later. Promise.

God, bless me - with all the love I need right now.

2009-10-04T22:01:00.002+08:00

I don't know.

There's nothing to expect. There's nothing to hope for. We both know that and we know it's totally unnecessary. It could have been too late or so. But the moment that the truth was told, and if we chose to direct the path towards that, nothing can happen. We already both know that, before everything went along.

I know it's not wrong, yet you totally believe it's not right. Or maybe you're just trying to protect me or so. It hurts, either way, and the pain lingers. But I can't hold onto it for so long. I'll let you go, along as I let go of this feeling. It wouldn't be easy.

I love you. Don't worry, it won't last long. It might entail a lot of pain, but trust me, I can let it all fade away.

I want to thank you. I want to thank you so much for all that we've been through, for everything. I know it's lame but thank you very much. This has been a long night, and indeed I felt better.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for being this. I can get through this, wait for me.

And I hope we're happy with what's going to happen.

God, please give me someone else to love. I need it right now. :D

We'll be taking chances, then.

2009-09-16T08:19:00.002+08:00

It's floating, this insane feeling. It's floating, perhaps like a feather blown by the unintentional wind to nowhere. I don't know. I don't even know where it's going. It's that difficult.

Probably we'll be taking chances, on whatever that'll happen. It's that difficult.

Would it be a worth it choice? We'll never know. But yes, we'll be together along the way. And I hope it'll last until the very end. Oh just wishful thinking.

We'll take chances. We will.

Mutual I

2009-09-11T11:40:00.003+08:00

She lies alone in her bed, reaching her pillows while staring at her phone. In it was a message - a message that a lot of people had been wanting to receive, had been dying to get. It was a message that caused her to smile for so long. She knew it. Finally. The feeling is mutual.

She touches herself, bit by bit. Nobody knew what was going on, what was between them, what they were doing on the night her parents left for Macau. She herself cannot confirm such feelings then. To her it was not odd, but rather it was peculiar. She was uncertain of what it really was, of why it was happening, of how it was occuring to her. She then feels her own lips with her fingers.

She pants slowly. She takes every breath, every part of that beautiful memory, into her as if nothing else would come next. She closes her eyes and tries to visualize that night.

It was dark in the room with only the light of the laptop screen flickering across the two faces that are in front of it, one staring closely at the screen and the other gazing at her.

"Stacey, what are you looking at? Something in my face?"

Stacey grips Anne's face with both hands. She brings it near hers. It was a combination of sudden and slow. They both look into each other's eyes until they close their eyelids at the same time. Stacey places her lips on Anne's. Anne for a second opens her eyes in surprise. She closes it again and savors the moment, as Stacey's fingers travel across Anne's body.

Suddenly, Anne pushes Stacey away from her. It was done. She realized it when it was late. She pushed Stacey even more, putting the latter in a state of shock, then she fled the room and fled the house.

Her fantasy ended when her phone rang. One message from Anne. She impatiently opens it.

"Oh, I'm sorry. The message wasn't for you. Please don't take it seriously. It'll never happen again."

It was wrong. The feeling was false. It wasn't mutual at all.

She gets up in bed. She grabs the blade that rested in her table.

The lights went off.

Terminal: a place where it starts, and where it stops.

2009-09-06T01:36:00.002+08:00

Remembering the "then" times, I found my old notebook of fiction and then it made me miss writing stories. Perhaps I'll be back again into it when I get into it.

"We won't go together now. It's time to part ways, Empress," Dane took his bags and stood up. It was some other day, except that people are too busy going everywhere.

"I'm afraid," Empress said.

"Don't," he replied, "Please, don't."

"I'm afraid that you'll never tell me."

"That I love you," Dane stared into her eyes.

"You won't. You never did. You never will."

"I'm sorry. I'm leaving," he turned away, "Goodbye."

"How could you -"

"I'm sorry."

Empress was already sobbing. She watches Dane walk away slowly, slowly towards the departure area. The prince of time gripped the hourglass strongly, almost crushing the glass preventing the sands go down the next ventricle.

"You told me you'll never leave me!"

"That was," Dane said in a whisper, "when things haven't changed yet."

"You told me that you'll be with me when I needed you the most!" Empress shouted, kneeling on the floor, "Dane, I need you!"

"I'm sorry."

Dane stopped walking. He still took a good hold of his bags, not as the spectators in the terminal expect him to drop them. Tears came out of his eyes, which is very rare to happen, though.

Then he utters, "I'm sorry, Empress. I loved you."

It was too soft to hear. He continued on walking. It was a walk as if he was very tired, molto stanco. Someone ran to Empress and helped her stand up from crying hard.

"Daniel, if you won't be responsible for her, I will," James said, "From now on I won't be hesitant to take care of the one I love!"

In his mind, Dane says 'shut up.'

"What a fool are you? You can't just let her go like this. Don't you think you're lucky enough to be loved?"

"Shut up."

"Don't you realize that a lot of people weren't loved by the people they loved?"

"Shut up."

"I could have envied you, Daniel. I could have envied you!"

"Die, James. Die. Now."

"Go away! Leave!" Empress commanded.

"What?" Dane speaks, in his mind.

Daniel added more footsteps and more teardrops. James hugged Empress tight. "Don't cry, I'm here now."

Dane fades away from the glass door. Empress falls into James' shoulder, into slumber. She becomes a child, into the arms of someone she had constantly rejected, but of who she had no choice but to withstand and/or fall in love with.

Does this mean I'm not doing good at all?

2009-09-05T21:26:00.002+08:00

There was no sign. Or I suppose there was, it was just that I wasn't paying attention to it much at all. Or maybe I didn't care. Whatever, whichever way, I do not know.

I do not know why most people prefer other people to be certain, dead point certain. What's with certainty that makes them satisfied, after all this commotion?

I don't like certainties, I guess. Or only most of the times, it is. Then maybe certainty hated me by then, giving me uncertainties to live by. There's no point at all. Who wants to know what is bound, what is changeable? What's the reason for attempting to straighten out things, to follow a plan, to obey rules? What is the absolute? What is not? What do we need? What do we not need?

Argh.

This is only an attempt to strike through philosophy. I know. I don't have that organized mind much. I need to improve my thinking.

Short.

2009-08-29T00:23:00.002+08:00

Finally, I've decided to create a blog post after a very long and silent while.

To give you an idea how busy and stressed and mobile I was, I'd only tell one thing: I haven't slept right for the last four or five weeks - that long enough. I know it's bad. I know. And I totally swear (to the nth thime, mind you) that I'll be sleeping early starting this Monday. I do totally hope for that.

This is so failing.

2009-08-13T10:43:00.002+08:00

Okay. I give up.

The proxy server in the University of the Philippines Diliman is so strict when it comes to videos (and music and porn, yeah yeah).

Agh. I have to wait until five in the afternoon to view and download the videos that we have watched yesterday (just because I need to watch them again and listen to them very very closely. Oh well. Flop morning.

I'm here at the first floor of Gonzales Hall (a.k.a. Main Library), General Reference Section. I have no breakfast yet. The only thing I consumed was a combo of Tuna on Pan de Sal and some gulps of water. I need to eat a power breakfast, I know. But I woke up late enough to miss it.

I'm supposed to go to Palma Hall now and stay there for a while. I can't go home (or dorm, for proper terminologies) yet with an empty stomach. Neither way with an empty wallet (yeah, bingo). I know. It's hard. But this is my life. If I can't live with it, then what's the purpose? :D

Say one last prayer.

2009-08-11T21:53:00.003+08:00

I don't get it.

Is it for the sake of being too real enough or just for the selfish cause of flaunting it to the world?

I just simply find it absurd praying to God - through status updates in Facebook. I mean, what are those for?

God isn't exclusively on Facebook or somewhere else, so I don't get the reason for doing such an act.

I just hope that it's not for the sake of letting the whole world know that you, yourself, does such an act, an act to seem overly religious or something else.

People of the world, we need HUMILITY, okay?

She's sensitive and insensitive at the same time.

2009-08-09T22:55:00.002+08:00

She never realized it.

She was only a face placed on cheap pedestal.

She was overly proud of it.

She was excessively proud about it.

She had seen nothing else except herself.

She was the only relevant thing known to her own.

She was another stupid mortal.

She was even lesser than some low-life being.

She was nothing.

She was definitely nothing.

She only cared for herself.

She thought she could be hurt, while hurting others.

She never was concerned.

She never tried to be a friend.

She only used.

She thought it was okay.

She thought she could get over me.

She only thought about herself, I tell you.

She's a fool trying to make a fool out of someone else.

She never realized it.

She's not the world.

She doesn't get it.

She won't, of course, for she had that precisely defined mind of an excessive person (excessive to where, that is).

She can't love herself.

She can't appreciate any other thing except for her excessive self.

She can't be true, how we wish.

But she is.

And she has not realized it.

No, not yet.

She must not live.

She must not live in this world so we can attain harmony in living with other - and nicer - people.

She's not nice, of course. Who was she trying to fool?

She can't get it.

She's going to rot.

She must.

She's just a face - a rotten one - that must join the other decayed creatures below the ground.

Goodbye, overly proud girl.

I hope you can make yourself more believable, and in every way nicer.

Sensibility.

2009-08-05T20:37:00.003+08:00

I'm not supposed to be.

Should I even wonder why I am existing?

Okay. It's complex as always and I don't even care to lift an eyebrow about it.

Or maybe it's too complex for others just because they won't care to lift a brain about it.

Or maybe it's just that.

Simple as that.

We humans are made to disagree with each other.

Don't you get that?

No, you don't? See.

It's odd.

It is.

Oh well. This is actually a senseless post. So why even care?

Besides, nobody cares. It's all a matter of self. We only care for ourselves and what we want for ourselves that we're not seeing the bigger picture that's postered just in front of us.

Oh well. As I said, this is senseless.

And you don't get it.

Don't pretend. You're not sensible. You're not sensitive. You're not the you that you want you to be.

Don't you get it? It's that simple.

It's that simple.

I don't expect you to freak out.

I expect you to be hurt - to be hurt by your elevated state of false pride, a pride that you hold on too much that it's more important than your health, your body, you.

Why do you hold on too much on such an abstract social construct?

Doesn't it hurt you to be just you, the you who you are now, the you who you truly are?

Slap yourself and wake up from your sleep. Wipe those morning glories away.

Look at the world.

It's not you.

It's not me.

The world is the world itself, and it doesn't give a damn.

The world doesn't care at all.

I already warned you: this is a senseless post.

UPD became Central Park by noon.

2009-08-02T20:33:00.002+08:00

The Bike Lane - or the Lane Bike, as it is read - was on vacation for two days, starting yesterday.

To those who have not known, the University of the Philippines College Admission Test (UPCAT) had started yesterday morning and ended this afternoon in four batches.

This noon - or it was before noon, in fact - it took me an effin' hour to hail a passenger-less taxicab. "[It's] Worth a million every five cars!", my friend Mary Rose Johana Samas have said. Noontime - UPCAT day - is dreadful. It really took me ages to get out of campus. What's up with that?

Oh well. We still hope for the best for the aspiring.

Another UPCAT saturday.

2009-08-01T19:45:00.005+08:00

A new set of hopeful - and hopeless - examinees, faces of excitement and despair, and with no. 2 pencils at hand, withstood the deathless rain in Metro Manila just to take the 2009 University of the Philippines College Admission Test (UPCAT) in an attempt to secure their admission to college next year in the sole national university in the country. Of course, being as it is, the entrance exam for the University of the Philippines isn't just some easy couch. It's a test of hard stones and mind-breaking questions. Some may even have to undergo a series of reviews just to prepare for it.

Thousands of senior high school students across the archipelago took a chance today, the first day of the UPCAT, with one batch in the morning and another in the afternoon. UP Diliman roads today were filled with vehicles, private outnumbering passenger ones - which made us walk from Molave Residence Hall up to Philcoa. It was all traffic. Damn.

UPCAT takes much time, for aspiring examinees and regular people trying to go out of campus. Oh well. After all, it's a mixture of luck, intelligence, and strategy. For those who are taking the examinations tomorrow, I wish you all good luck! See you on the list, aspirant. We hope for a new outstanding and deserving set of freshmen next year! :D

The bottom line, Cory, and Rodic's.

2009-08-01T09:34:00.003+08:00

I just checked out my blogsites and I realized how low I was in managing all three sites: Ang Pilit na Pag-abot sa Mataas na Kalangitan, Lost in Disturbing Tranquility, and Under Different Perspectives. I have not been posting too much. But I felt like I have been posting too little entries. Oh well, how would I know if someone's reading, by the way? That doesn't matter much. I know, sometime, somewhere, it will.

It's the first day of August. Former president and People Power Icon Corazon "Cory" Cojuangco-Aquino, wife of assassinated senator and opposition leader Benigno "Ninoy" Aquino, died this morning, at age 76. She was announced dead by 03.18 in the morning, Manila time, due to Cardio-Respiratory arrest. She was earlier diagnosed with Stage 4 Colon Cancer and was battling the disease for months. Now let's be assured that she can finally rest in peace.

However, yesterday, 31st of July, Rodic's Diner celebrated their 60th anniversary. A classic and popular dining place in the University of the Philippines Diliman, situated at the UP Shopping Center, Rodic's Diner has now been also popular in Makati, being situated in Salcedo Street, Legazpi Village. Tapsilog, a dish comprised of shredded tapa (beef), sinangag na kanin (fried rice), and piniritong itlog (fried egg), has become a bestseller, being the most ordered dish in the establishment. My personal favorites are their Jumbosilog (Jumbo Hotdog with Sinangag and Piniritong Itlog), Sinigang na Baboy (Pork... I can't translate sinigang!), and Liempo (Roast Pork something... I'm not good at explaining food.).

This month, August, means Buwan ng Wika (Month of Language) in the Philippines. It is expected that most schools, especially primary and secondary, will celebrate this month long celebration, along with the celebration for president Manuel Quezon, who established Filipino, a language largely based on Tagalog with some words from different local languages, as the official language of the Philippines, along with English.

They just want to blame.

2009-07-29T21:08:00.000+08:00

Everyone just love to blame me for everything. Thanks for that.

I'm too tired, too depressed, and too frustrated, okay? So please don't add up.

This is total stress week. I've been having a well-maintained head-breaking migraine for almost two weeks already. And I totally destroyed my sleeping habits. Whatever happened to my 22.30 curfew every night (not excluding weekends to that)? This is in some way a failure. I know I'm getting there. But still, there's always time to steer away from it.

I just need more time. I mean, extra time - aside from the standard twenty-four hours of a single day. God, can you give me more time, please? :D

Oh. I got a lot of things to do. Perhaps a mountain of things to accomplish. Currently I'm looking up at Italian verbs - and by the way, simultaneously plurking, multiply-ing, facebook-ing, and blogging here. I don't know what's going to happen with my life. I need more energy, more motivation, and yes, more sleep. So to start again the good life, I expect myself to be fast asleep by 23.00 tonight. I wish for that.

Meanwhile, I must motivate myself to finish my reaction paper to the last State of the Nation Address of President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. (I was absent at my Political Science 14 class this morning - to where I should have passed that reaction paper - because I had not finished the paper yet and I slept at around three in the morning, more reason to be absent since I might get too sleepy after all.) After that I will start doing my tasks for the organization that I'm applying to - UP Political Society. Oh. And it's already 21.30.

I should better grab my life back and sget going.

Maybe it's what I wanted, not what I needed.

2009-07-19T21:28:00.007+08:00

I can't just can't tell things because I certainly don't understand what's actually happening.

I don't get it. It's way too complex and too hideous.

How can they expect me to know something that's underneath something else?

It's getting harder. And weirder. And.. And.. What else?

It's all too hard to believe. It's not another typical story.

It's something else. That's the word.

And day by day I keep on falling in but then again I'm still being a hypocrite.

But that person is what I wanted. Maybe it's not what I needed, but still. Hello.

Can't that person tell what's going on me?

I'm obsessed.

And depressed by that hopeless obsession.

And I'm still dreaming.

Or can't I be at the least saved?

This is getting to be pathetic.

I can't help it.

That person can.

But that person doesn't want to help me. God bless na lang.

Fine. That's just fine.

Indeed, that's a word of sarcasm there.

You just don't want to help me then.

I so know that and you don't have to act like you're somebody else.

You don't have to pretend that you care for me. I know what's real and I know it hurts.

And don't even pretend that you want me. Please. It's making me fall in and I want it but if it's not that real then what is it for?

But at least, can you pretend that you love me?

It's just too good to be true.

2009-07-12T21:00:00.004+08:00

Things are odd and at the same thing good, currently.

[Of course, I'm talking again about my life. What else, right?]

It's happening again. And it's better this time.

I don't know why. Maybe that person finally got over me.

And now that person's over me, it means I'm down under.

And I'm not yet over. Not still.

Not still over simply because I keep on falling.

In and out.

Of love.

Or maybe something like that.

But it's wonderful.

It's like sunshine on a very rainy day.

Or a ray of light in an unlit room.

It's like heaven.

It's like warm chocolate on a cold day.

It's happiness.

I'm sure of it.

I'm happy whenever I'm with.

That one.

The one.

And it's just too good to be true.

Only if it is not a dream.

That will somehow someday again will fade away.

Will be shattered.

Like a glass thrown on the floor.

Like a blade stroked hardly on my chest.

Like a piercing emotion.

That kills.

No. No way. Please don't.

I just wanted to be happy. And to live my life that way.

With every word whispered we get more far away.

2009-06-27T22:33:00.002+08:00

It hurts and it lingers.

It won't stay for long, I know.

But the more I think about it, the more it pierces my already broken self.

And I can't help it.

I just can't.

So what's the point of even blogging about it?

I just want to get it out of my chest, again.

Or maybe I just want to get that person out of one part of my chest.

I want to forget.

Or not.

I just want things to happen, certain things.

Maybe it's too much.

Or maybe it's too subtle.

I don't know.

I just don't know.

Song of the day: Nothing Lasts Forever - Maroon Five.

To the other side of the world.

2009-06-17T21:08:00.003+08:00

The more this happens, the more I'm getting convinced that I'm totally not a part of your world.

I'm not a part of your life.

I'm not a part of you.

I'm not important to you anyway.

I'm not important in any way even though you told me that you want me.

Or maybe, that was only a symptom of longing.

Now that you had your friends around again, I'm no longer part of your inner circle.

I'm no longer in that part of you where I wanted to be.

I'm no longer being used, being loved, being comforted.

I'm no longer someone you can't stand when gone.

I'm no longer catching your attention.

Then what are your brief smiles for, whenever you pass by?

What are they for when you won't even stay with me and comfort me and hug me and talk to me and make me feel better?

What are they for when I can't have you when I need you the most?

You're the only thing right now that makes me feel that better, but you're also the only one right at this very moment that makes me feel sad and suicidal.

Please come back.

Please don't be the last thing on earth that would make my life miserable.

I can't stand your absence.

Just come back, okay?

I need your company.

I need your smile.

I need your hugs.

I need your kisses.

I need your words.

I need your eyes where I can look myself into.

I need you, okay?

Because this makes me feel like I'm left alone to the other side of the world, without you.

Tell me I'm selfish, but it's you I want.

If only you could understand, then maybe I'll be alright.

Then maybe everything will be alright.

*I'll leave this up to you if you'll believe that this is real.

Thanks so much for reading, anyway.

What happens when everything in your blog site is about you?

2009-06-17T17:19:00.002+08:00

Somebody finally follows my blogs. Wow.

Hello, Bob Zenon (whoever you are). By the way, who are you?

Okay. So at least I got one follower.

At least somebody formally pseudo-reads my blog.

And I'm hungry.

Oh, wishful thinking.

[End of post.]

Overly random.

2009-06-13T15:08:00.003+08:00

I was hungry a few moments ago.

Then I read http://chuvaness.com and I can't find my hunger anymore.

Now that I was finished reading there, I just can't contain the need for food.

And I want to eat a lot, okay?

Last night I was craving for huge burgers and chocolate cakes.

I'm still craving for them now.

And I wonder why I keep pressing the Enter key after every sentence.

It reminds me of Brielle Shane Flores' text format.

Okay. So I suddenly wanted to buy clothes.

But why in the world should nice clothes for men be more than three-hundred pesos?

I still want the orange Soda Man shirt I kept staring at SM City North Edsa.

And oh boy, the girl beside me's eating.

Oh well.

It's just banana-cue.

And it made me wonder if there's banana-cue in the United States.

I formally declare that I am hungry.

I feel the hunger.

It lingers on my tummy, like a huge snake feeding on my insides.

What.

Now I suddenly want to earn.

First thing, I do not have a bank account.

Yeah, loser.

So with that I can't even write an essay for that research company I had passed an exam into.

And I know I can't be in there again because it had been more than six weeks.

What about six years of ignoring opportunities just because I'm lazy?

Okay.

So I might do a grand reformation of the self quite soon.

Stay tuned for that. :D

I wish.

2009-06-11T18:02:00.000+08:00

i wish we could stay like this forever, in this illusion, in this make-believe world of you and me, because we were there, finishing the words on the last page of our story.

Rip my heart out.

2009-06-06T18:43:00.002+08:00

Hello. I felt like I haven't blogged for ages. For the whole week, I was pseudo-enjoying wireless internet connection in malls through my phone. And due to large-byte browsing, I was unable to update my Plurk timeline. In consequence, my Plurk karma dropped from 78 something to a whopping 70.64.

Now I better start with June.

01June.

I was decaying inside my aunt's house. It was a sleep-sit-eat all day phenomenon. I suppose it was raining that day (just because it had been raining for a lot of days) and I had no choice but to stay at home (and I don't have fare money anyway) and die all along. Oh, yeah. I was oh so excited for 02June too.

02June.

D-Day. Mom and I hiked to UP Diliman to check out the dorm (and for me to check in later that day). The Office of Student Housing took too long to post the dormitory results and the respective dorm assignments for us. After hours of waiting, I found myself in Molave Residence Hall room B120. This time, my room's beside the shower [side of the comfort] room. Okay. So my room's large enough for four people. And it's not amazing at all. If there's one good word to describe it, that'd be roomy. But then, it's not that well-maintained. Full stop.

Surprisingly, my roommate (Leo Rosas) is a schoolmate of mine. So it was nice for us, since we have something in common! As you can see, I'm hopeful. Haha.

Okay. Okay. I won't tell what happened just because it's long enough. :D

03June.

First day of the traumatic enrolment. To cut the story short, all I did was to get my registration materials (Forms 5A and 5). I attempted to venture in the line for Econ 100.1/.2 but by 3 in the afternoon Janine and I gave up. (Apparently, we had our Teacher's Prerog Form being signed but it was to be taken by 3 in the afternoon. I was lining up for dorm payment then and it was raining og so hard so I dumped the idea - and maybe the idea of shifting too. Hooray, Political Science majors.) Since I'm not done with the registration yet, I stayed in the dorm almost penniless and clotheless. Thank God that I had a mother who went to the rescue.

04June.

I finished my enrolment process (without changing my POLSC 14 class and lining up for PE) with my clothes wet. Yeah. I was under my umbrella when I got wet. (And there's no typhoon. Just that damn buhawi that I haven't noticed.) So by the afternoon I went back to my aunt's house in Pasig to decay again and to spent my days (and birthday) without spending any money. Then everything changed.

05June.

My [happy] (and Thea's and MJ's and Ravi's) 17th birthday. I pseudo-celebrated it in the afternoon at Shakey's. It was definitely not the best birthday ever. Besides, I never had a good birthday. But most likely, it was the worst. At early morning, I had a big problem with a friend. Then I was flooded with birthday greetings by a lot of friends and acquaintances. Then I had another problem with another friend. Then mom and I had a quarrel (inside the mall and we were outting up quite a dramatic show there). Until night, things seemed to go worse. I hated it.

06June.

Saint Marcellin Champagnat's feast day. Now. I don't want to type anymore. XD

P.S.

I wish we could be fine, just like before - not the way you want it right now.

When there's barely nothing to tell.

2009-05-16T08:50:00.002+08:00

Or when I just don't want to tell something, blogging can be hard.

Lesson learned in Social Science One:

Blogging is not a technology. It is a behavior [or an act].

Okay. Okay.

I just opened another blog site and this time, it specializes in photographs.

Yeah, yeah. Photographs.

I don't know why; it happened oh so fast.

My digital camera was not yet repaired, so I have no choice but to take photos using my N79.

I so know all along how ugly and unsatisfactory Nokia's cameras are, hoewever Carl Zeiss Vario Tessar Optics there is.

With my cell phone I'm having difficulties with the [uncontrollable] flash, [undesirable] lighting, and [odd] skin color. Since I don't know any thing about focusing yet, I don't think I had a problem with its auto focus feat.

If you wanted to view my photo blog site, just click here.

It took me too long to think of the url, though.

Week report? Nah. I'm not in for it right now. :D

Blown away by a heavy storm.

2009-05-09T00:08:00.002+08:00

Okay. First of all, (hold your breath, guys) I failed to shift into BS Business Administration.

It was like as if I should have known about it before the start of second semester so that I could have taken Political Science 14 beforehand. It felt like a hard hit on my head.

I am not sure if I could post a week update here this time. I just am not into that mood. Apparently, I have been idle in blogging these days. I was only uninspired to type things and apparently, I just can't get the time of it. And I don't actually feel like I wanna do it so I skipped blogging first.

And failing to shift is just as depressing. What.

I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm floating, in the bad sense. I don't know. Everything's so odd and not right. Yeah, so perhaps I should start living with it.

I feel like I'm blown away. I don't know. It's all so sudden. It's all so unexpected. It's all so bad. And I hate it.

And I know I'm not getting anywhere so perhaps I should end here.

It's a sad world.

2009-05-02T20:00:00.002+08:00

It's just so saddening.

I don't know why I'm trying to post such a self-depressing blog entry, though.

Lately, I've been into something. Yeah, something. I don't know. I feel odd. So odd.

I've been upset since I ate with mom at Jollibee. Of course, I won't be upset with eating a 2-piece Chickenjoy Meal. Instead, I got pissed off when I shared that my friend is enjoying summer on a beach somewhere. Then money talk went next. As you can see, dad's money is not enough - for all my wants/needs. Yeah, big sis could have a job as an accounting something in the mall but it's not even enough for her. (Remember that minimum wage is insufficient for daily family living.) And metropolis life is not that easy, financially speaking. And as everyone knew, I am NOT good in handling money. (And why have I always been wanting of being in the business scene?) I thought I'd be saving a lot of money the time I got my cute teddy bear coin bank (which was worth 300 or so pesos). It helped a bit, for I was able to control money spending for a day. Yet my allowance is allegedly not enough for me (yeah, a thousand a week is NOT enough for me) since it would turn out that I'd be opening as always the butt of that orange bear to get a few hundred-peso bills.

I so hate being this.

I wish I could earn somehow. (Advices, anyone?)

Second topic: friends.

Yeah, I know I got a problem with friends (or maybe it's just me). I don't know why but it always seems that they just don't want to keep in touch with me or so. (Okay. Bitter.) But heck, I don't know.

Okay. I'll just cut this out. I'm suddenly out of thoughts.

In return I'll give you a week recap.

Sunday, 26Apr

I spent the day at Pasig with my mom and aunt's family. Mom and I attended the Holy Mass at Sta. Lucia East Grand Mall and we shopped for my food (just loaf bread and some packed noodles) then I finally went back at the dormitory. Too bad I went back late. Obviously I wasn't able to attend the University Commencement Exercises. But then, fine. There's still next year and the years after it. By night, Angelie and I rehearsed for our practical exam for Philippine Folk Dance the next day. Nevertheless, it's just the usual Sunday routine.

Monday, 27Apr

We did not well in our practical exam. I should have known that. Then the usual summer class routine. Nothing much important.

Tuesday, 28Apr

I was unable to attend my 7 AM PE class. It was just because I slept again after I turned off the alarm. The consequence: I got no ticket for the dance forum which we were required to attend to the next day. And as a feel-good thing for that, Yanny and I finally had an achievement: to jog around the Academic Oval, after two weeks of hardcore procrastination. But then again it wasn't a jog after all. We spent most of the 6-7 PM hour sitting and lying in the slopes of the Sunken Garden. So in the end it's nothing for fitness again. By the way, I finally passed my STFAP thing. I wish it could be processed already before the regular registration for next semester starts. I made tambay at Jervis' room and watched he and Kiboy have fun (or I was having fun observing them). Ang kulit.

Wednesday, 29Apr

No PE class for today. So that's some sort of extended humiliation for sleeping again after stopping the alarm. However, we had our first exam in Social Science 1. (Isn't it the midterms season?) It was kind of fine, kind of hard, must admit. By this time I don't even care about my grade at all. At least I'm sucking all the fun out of Ma'am Chei Billedo's class. Haha. In the evening, Jervis, Dan and I went at Trinoma. Jervis planned it to be with me, Ara, and Ryan (Sigaw staff doomed for summer classes) but it turned out that it's gonna be us two only. Good thing we found Dan also on his way to the mall to buy Kiko Machine 5. Jervis' goal was to have Blizzard at Dairy Queen (which was my cravings too, for the moment) and my goal was to buy a ballpen and black modelling clay (for our presentation at Soc Sci 1 tomorrow). It was full blown fun. Fun, fun. By night again I was at Jervis' room to study for my World Literatures exam the next day, and watched them again making fun. Haha. Jervis let me borrow his book The Tipping Point, by Malcolm Gladwell. Thanks Jervis!

Thursday, 30Apr

Larissa's birthday. I was not able to greet her in person, though. And Elmer kept making pilit that I give her a rose in the name of Elmer. (And why am I speaking conyo all this time?) Everybody know how a sloth I am, so in the end I wasn't able to fulfill his wish. By afternoon was our first examination in English 12 (World Literatures) and it was indeed as good as Inferno. Fudge. It was a hell of an essay. But then again, I didn't care afterwards. All I did was to relax and let the Inferno, Odyssey, and Shakuntala leave my mind. By night I started reading Malcolm Gladwell's book but was unable to get through the introduction because I was having fun out of the boring evening with Remmond, Zola, Geri, Daren, and Sherwin at the TV Area as they were watching Slumdog Millionaire. Elmer called me (because he was subscribed to the UnliCalls Nyt Promo) and again, my milk spilled all over me. Hilarious. Fun. Fun.

Friday, 01Apr

Theresa's birthday. I managed to greet her by midnight through text. There. It was such a lazy day on which I spent on reading The Tipping Pint. By night, Yanny and I attended Mass (for no reason, actually). Then online marathon. I've got a lot of other things to do but procrastination came over again. So there.

I'mma end here. :D

I wish this would happen to me.

2009-04-27T17:34:00.004+08:00

Pieces of me slowly tremble,

As I walk along the noisy hall

Filled with rows of persons

Running fast, opposite my way.

I can feel myself separating,

One by one,

As her sweet lips I recall

And as she laid it on me.

My fingers fell, then my ears,

Followed by my chest and my eyes,

And my knees throwed themselves

And I fell to the ground, I finally fell in love.

Life's a bore.

2009-04-26T23:40:00.003+08:00

And for some reason, my life is just so odd since Wednesday. (And I hope that person is not reading this. No, that person won't. I hope.)

I know it's wrong, and I just can't get over it. Okay. It was just that I subscribed to the Unlitxt promo and I have no one else to text but that person. That wouldn't be wrong. It's just so damn odd that I could easily say what I feel and what I want and everything's just so real. I mean, that barrier's missing. Nothing is holding me back. What's worse, whenever I get idle, I want that person to send me a message. What the.

Okay. This just feels so wrong. Just so wrong.

Earlier I have posted about Sean's message and what's going to happen that next day, which was last Friday.

I just don't want to teach kids anymore. She was a five-year-old (and he told me she was six!) but it didn't make things better. I hated kids ever since I stepped into Pasig and met my indirect cousins. And that Friday night, they all expected me to change the world. I'm not perfect. I can't teach a five-year-old Korean girl named Da Min to learn how to read and write in English, especially that she always admits she doesn't want to learn.

"I don't want to write my name. It's tiring!" she said. I could have had punched her, but I just said, "Why? You're going to write your name forever!"

Okay. Maybe not forever at all. But hell. What would she do then? She now lives in a county where everyone is expected to be efficient in articulating a foreign language (which is English) and all that English stuff. We were supposed to be best in English. Well, that sounds just like a five-star kindergarten award.

It's just so saddening that I met that girl. She doesn't want to learn. When in the world had there been a moment that I don't want to learn? (Well, maybe a bit of hardcore math and science I wanted to forget at all, but it's not that.) It's so sad that kids nowadays (but even before) just don't want to study at all. Fine. Then don't. Just look at where we'll pick you up. Yeah, sure. Maybe she could turn up into (what was the name of Apple's owner again?) Apple's owner's story, but that would be less likely. Not everyone is destined to be Bill Gates, Henry Sy, or Fernando Zobel de Ayala. But you could always try you chance on being another Angel Locsin or Marian Rivera or, say, Pokwang on television.

What I'm saying is, why can't she just live her life and look forward and dream. She's currently chasing herself in circles, like a snake chasing it's tail which gave birth to the supposed discovery of the benzene ring.

Maybe it's just the heat of the summer sun, but I am totally loveless. Yeah, I know it's somewhat normal when it's me but I don't like the thought of staying single (and a virgin. Haha! I told Elmer about that yesterday and it was blown away.) and without someone to be with.

What I'm saying is that I want a girl friend and a best friend, as soon as I can. Well, I just want to live my life the way I want it to be. And I want it with a girl and a companion. Okay?

Fudge. This is so getting into me.

The moment that you slip into my brain.

2009-04-23T20:40:00.002+08:00

Whoa. Sean (the Korean who interviewed us for Home Tutors) texted me yesterday whether I wanted to teach near Kalayaan Avenue (Queson City, as he typed it). Of course I replied a yes but I got no reply.

He then texted me again this noon for real. I'm going to teach a 6-year-old Korean girl tomorrow (if that is it) at UP Teachers' Village by night. Wow. I am so so excited. Yeah.

And I feel so carefree nowadays. (And I know it's bad.)

I wasn't reading seriously my required readings. We were required to read Homer's The Odyssey and Kalidasa's Shakuntala. By this weekend I'm aiming to read Dante Alighieri's Inferno from cover to cover.

I kept watching Love Hina these days. (That's why I was procrastinating.)

I was also somewhat addicted to the game Mystery Case Files: Madam Fate.

Then I kept on surfing the net. (Of course, I only have to lie down on my bed to be connected to the internet. Nice spot, eh?)

Then starting tomorrow I'm expected to be as responsible as a tutor. Whoa. I wish I could handle this easily.

Not Another Daydream.

2009-04-19T22:36:00.002+08:00

"Don't you always want to go back in time?"

"Who are you?"

"I am you."

Okay. So I do not know who I am. Yet someone who look exactly like me comes up in front of me to show me who I really am. How great. By the way, this is supposed to be an essay for my Social Science 1 class. But since I haven't finished and passed it yet, I chose to end it as this. :D

I just felt like it is February.

2009-04-17T17:33:00.002+08:00

I have a new [for-all-accounts] photograph. Actually, I cropped it. I used my new N79 to capture it, and to say, it's quite good in some instances. As you can see, camera in cellular phones aren't as good as real cameras per se (maybe you could put Samsung's 8 megapixel camera phone aside here) so it's kind of good timing and good chance having a good photograph.

It's the first week of our summer class. I'm taking up Philippine Folk Dance, Social Science 1 (Foundations of Behavioral Sciences), and English 12 (World Literatures) this summer, for a body-wrecking Monday to Friday (but at least it's not until Saturday, unlike my friend Yvyz in Ateneo De Davao University has). It's kind of a change since I'm starting off my day as early as 5 in the morning, to prepare for my 7 AM PE class in the Gymnasium. I have a barely 40-minute break to unsoak myself in sweat and go to the airconditioned room in Palma Hall Annex for my enjoyable Social Science 1 class under Ms. Chei Billedo. But then, since it's the Dyosa in OSA (Office of Student Affairs, College of Social Sciences and Philosophy), it's all worth the dangerous drying up of sweat. By eleven in the morning, I go back to the dorm for my four-hour lunch break. By 3 PM I go to Palma Hall for my World Literatures class. It's quite fine, but it's just that I'm a bit lazy to read those thick pages of required readings (and I've got a big bulk of readings too for my Social Science 1) so I'm a bit non-participative in class.

But still, it's fine with me. I chose to have this, so I don't have to actually complain about it at all.

So here's a week recap:

12, Sunday.

It was Easter Sunday. The next day, you'll know it's Easter Monday. Haha.

Mom and I sure attended the mass, ate lunch at Pizza Hut, and we bought groceries just before I go check in the dormitory the next day.

13, Monday.

I wasn't getting ready yet for paying my registration fees and checking in the dormitory, but all of a sudden I was in a rush. Before being able to check in to the dormitory, one must pay first his or her enrolment obligations, and that meant an almost 360-degree long queue of people surrounding the whole UP shopping center. Good thing was that my very good friend, Gleffany, who let me in her side of the queue (which was very near to the finish line of cashiers, thank her) since she would have to go for her pack of things and so I'll be the one who'll pay for her. There, I got out of the long queue of people very very easily. By noon, mom and I were in a dilemma where to eat lunch. In the afternoon, I joined a similar queue of people inside the dormitory to check in to the dormitory. It was a slow process, having your form 5 checked and have a dormitory payment bill, pay the amount, and go back to the queue and choose your room. I chose B103, four rooms away from my old room, B107. First and foremost, my room was already occupied, I don't like to be directly in front of the comfort/shower room anymore, and B103 is nearer to the internet router, which clearly means that I just have to lie on my bed to surf the internet. And then, I got a new roommate. :D

14, Tuesday.

It was the first day of summer classes. I woke up by 5 in the morning, figuring out that it wasn't even my clock (by which I thought I have turned it's alarm on the night before) that was making the sound. 7 AM was my Philippine Folk Dance class, though Ma'am Perena appeared late. By 9 I was at PHAN for my Social Science 1 class, with the hilarious Ms. Chei Billedo. It's just great. By 3 PM I was at Palma Hall for my English 12 under Sir Queano.

Should I even do a week recap? I just got bored. :D :D

going round and round.

2009-04-09T18:10:00.002+08:00

It's Holy Thursday and I've only got a few more days to be back and experience summer like never before: my first summer classes in college.

Why of course, I had summer classes back in High School, just the gap between third year and fourth year, Trigonometry and Statistics, to supplement our Junior Thesis in High School, and Physics, as what they keep saying.

This Tuesday I will be waking up way too early than what has been, to attend my 7 AM PE class: Philippine Folk Dance. Whoa. Imagine how near or far that's gonna be: from Kalayaan Residence Hall to a far away CHK Gym. By 9 AM I'll be off to Palma Hall Annex to enjoy a funny Soc Sci 1 class under Ms. Billedo. At least. Then I'll idle around within my long lunch break from eleven to three. Imagine that. By 3 PM I'll be at Palma Hall for Eng 12, that World Literatures subject I had insisted to enlist for.

I don't know yet but I certainly feel that I would have difficulties this summer. It's a Monday to Friday, with a very early class and a very long lunch break. What am I gonna do with my life?

Fudge. It sounds horrible, and at the same time exciting.

And I've got three more days. I'm doing nothing for Holy Week - not even abstinence. This time I'm going to mimic what the non-Christians do during Holy Week. Yes. Whatever that is. And too bad no malls for me until tomorrow. I can't wait for Saturday to go strolling.

And of course, I've got a checklist of what I want for summer:

1. new slippers. (I don't opt for Havaianas just because they're too costly for something you'll step on.)

2. new shoes. (Running shoes, actually. I can't wait to jog at the Academic Oval again.)

3. new backpack. (The red Illustrazio backpack I borrowed from my sister is destroying my shirts. I need a new one.)

4. cellphone casing. (I can't take it if my N79 follows the same fate with my overly scratched LG KU250.)

5. my digital camera repaired. (It was months ago since it got broken. Of course I miss it.)

Okay. So it's Good Friday tomorrow. Better be good. :D

Twist it and don't turn it back.

2009-04-06T02:12:00.002+08:00

I don't feel like living - or let's say something close to that - today. I just feel so lazy and all that.

I woke up by 2 in the afternoon and ate a not-so-satisfying brunch by 3 in the afternoon. By 4 in the afternoon I attended the Palm Sunday Mass, and I almost blacked out.

Maybe it was my body clock's fault. I used to sleep by ten or eleven in the night. In college I normally sleep by midnight. For the last few weeks, I slept by one or two or three or even four in the morning. How bad was that, eh?

Or maybe I was in a bad diet, skipping breakfast and all that.

Or maybe I was just too sinful for the past few weeks. Haha.

Well, no.

Do you deserve my love?

2009-04-05T01:54:00.002+08:00

This holy week, it is now time to be emo. Hahaha!

No. No way.

Okay. Okay. Here's the news.

Last Wednesday was no April Fool's Day for me. I was scolded by my father for reportedly consuming up my 3000 peso allowance that was given just last last week. Yes, I admit I've been spending too much (on Dairy Queen Blizzards) and I swear I will really put more money in my teddy bear coin bank everyday! Promise!

Last Thursday, we - the First Floor Boys of Kalayaan Residence Hall (actually just a few of us) - went to Antipolo to have an overnight stay/swimming. Of course, I wouldn't be there if I have told my parents about it. XD It was a very nice place, perhaps somewhere in upland Sumulong or so. You can actually see the whole Metro Manila by night, with the beautiful skyline. It's daylight view wasn't that adorable though. Nevertheless, I had a good swim, or should I say wetting? Haha. [I just don't know how to swim. And that's bad for lurking in the pool for long.]

Yesterday, Saturday, my roommate finally left. The night before Jervis and I were actually ranting about or somewhat dysfunctional roommates (of course, the friendship and all are not in them, for some sad reason) and now I'll just sleep alone (though he goes back to the room at around 3 in the morning for his sleep) and I don't think if I'd be happy with that.

Today, [it is still two in the morning here.] I'll be having very light meals (hello there, noodles) so that I can show my Mom some money when she arrives this Monday.

This Monday, my mother will arrive here so that I could have a companion in Pasig this Holy Week for me. That's great news for me. She's gonna bring my ever-wanted N79 that they had bought in Davao City (and refused to mail here). Of course, she's gonna be my financer for the summer (a big yey for me!) and, yes, I will finally have someone to wash my clothes while I'm staying in that Pasig village. :D

Hold your - no, my - breath.

2009-04-03T21:41:00.002+08:00

I just paused from reading an e-book of Mitch Albom's The Five People You Meet in Heaven. For some odd reason, I just feel so sleepy after reading the softbound version of his For One More Day, and then I get an eyestrain with this e-book. I don't know. It's just hard to keep myself busy when there's nothing to be busy at all. Or it's just that it's hard to do something when another something - something else, yes - bothers me.

It's almost a year. It's almost a year since I left the city of General Santos to prepare for my college life here in Quezon City. Before that nostalgic airplane ride to Ninoy Aquino International Airport Centennial Terminal 2 in Pasay City, I wasn't thinking greatly of studying in the University of the Philippines Diliman. I was actually thinking that hooray, I'm finally free and I'm in Metro Manila!

And summer has never been the same as before. My mom and I stayed at her cousin's house in Pasig City. I kind of hated that experience, sleeping on that foam placed on the floor, listening to the loud cries of children, seeing kids being scolded by their moms, occasional arguments with my mother, semi-real financial crisis, and being far away from the rest of my little family, missing my father and older sister.

I can't seem to keep myself moving whenever I feel that everything is just not right and everything just feels not comfortable. As a truly ambitious kid, of course I had high hopes. But it turns out that the longer the stay you are in your time of hoping, the more the hopes had been shattered by disappointing truths. Yes, it's not just another companion thing.

Some people are always right. You better expect what not to expect. There are always things you want to happen but one twist of fate or two, or perhaps another mistake of yours, life becomes a bit more disappointing. Yes. It is disappointing.

I cannot find a way to describe it.

2009-03-28T23:11:00.002+08:00

I just don't understand how I feel. I don't know why.

It's just so.

I can't explain myself. Or why should I? I don't really know.

The Earth Hour just passed by and I'm not still satisfied with myself or with what's going on with myself.

I don't know. Maybe all I need is time, or other. I don't know. I'm going nowhere.

Happy dreams are made of chocolate.

2009-03-26T18:15:00.002+08:00

I have a very happy - and of course it's kind of weird, but hell i love it - and, as I said, I love it.

I know it's kind of silly blogging about this.

Okay. Here it goes.

In my dream it was weird. My roommate and I were in perfect harmony. Yes, that was what has been in my dream. It was so nice dreaming about it, having something I long wanted to happen. We were having conversations, going to places, Only it was saddening to have it been limited to a very nice morning dream. I know it's silly, but I just can't believe it happening in my dream. I mean, it's too good to be there. It's too good to dream of it. No.

And yes, reality confirmed that it would not happen. I woke up, and there goes another day of silence. I don't know what brings it on but it's just that we barely talk with each other. I personally do not have anything against him, and I suppose that the same way is with him. (I could even remember that I gave him some donuts sometime last week and it was just okay.) But I just feel sad that we go the other way. What a bad dream reality is.

In the real world, dreams only come true when fate wants it to come true. And I just have to stand the pain.

This afternoon, I was supposed to come with a friend for her interview in a tutorial agency. We went to Gateway Mall and met the Korean guy in his pink polo shirt at Starbucks Coffee Araneta Coliseum. Wow. I was struck. It was my first time actually talking to a Korean - well, to a foreigner. So instead of just my friend, I too was interviewed for the tutorial job. He kept noting that I was 'interesting' and talks in a 'fashionable' manner - whatever that fashionable manner means. I can't wait to have a student to teach. It must be interesting, being in the job. But then, all I have to do is to wait for the big call. ^^

Irritant.

2009-03-25T21:45:00.002+08:00

I feel bad.

And I don't know why.

I just feel so fat today. Hahaha.

And I just so hate it, along with the heat of the sun and the boring season.

But I was then so glad that it rained this afternoon.

But I was at the mall then. And I don't know why.

I just so am not into myself. Grr.

Colds in the stabbing heat.

2009-03-22T17:16:00.001+08:00

It's only here in the University that I see someone so health conscious that he would even discriminate my having the common cold. Wow. I thought that back in high school, it's perfectly normal, or safe. But where else could you see someone quarantining you just for the fact of me having common cold? Whoa. Whatever that is.

Okay. So I'm not supposed to laze around here yping whatever posts. I'm supposed to continue studying for our Fourth Long Examination in Math 100 tomorrow morning, and simultaneously doing my portfolio (compilation of paper works) for Malikhaing Pagsulat 10 since it'll be due tomorrow too, in almost at the same time as of the Math 100 exam. Now how should I ever do that simultaneously?

I'm currently having fun with integrals. (How am I even supposed to have fun with that?)

I can do this. I'm a superhero - with common colds.

Red-haired teddy bear.

2009-03-21T18:14:00.002+08:00

Finally, I've got a picture of the Wacky Day when my hair was sprayed red (or in this case, somewhat red violet).

[Photograph courtesy of Hazel Ross Palma Villarba, my Political Science blockmate and my partner in the photograph.]

It was one of the days that I know I looked at my best, but too bad that my digital camera got broken that very day. How good was that, huh? My teddy bear coin bank collected some coins and bills worth 21 or 22 pesos, plus 75 centavos. Wow. At least I earned a lot more than the beggar Archie Jerome Maramag (he portrayed a very convincing beggar that day - he had a trouble entering the Office of the University Registrar), he only got 2 pesos. Hahaha!

I bet I'll have another time in the year that I would be bringing my teddy bear coin bank.

Ahh. I just so love this picture. Me beside the girl I first met and laughed with in the university. The first girl.

Rip me off gently.

2009-03-20T20:53:00.000+08:00

I feel so lax. Yes, I am aware that I need to cram on my portfolio and study a lot and cram for more papers. But I just feel so lax. And how come I'm attempting to surf the web when the connection's just so slow? (I'm currently using my Smart Bro, but the connection is terribly depressing. Why does this always happen when the WLAN server in the dormitory is down?)

What a week it has been. It has been so windy and complex and all that.

And I feel ripped off.

I wish I was able to write more sonnets.

Sunday.

It was no sleep day. I was supposed to finish all my papers, but it went to procrastination. I was logged on to the internet and watched some movies after.

Monday.

I slept by 8 in the morning and by 11 when I woke up, I was having a high fever. 39 degrees. Dash went with me to the infirmary to have my fever drop down to normal. I became well, eventually.

Tuesday.

Last lecture day for Biology and Sociology. My fever left me a cold.

Wednesday.

Last lecture day for Science, Technology, and Society, and Malikhaing Pagsulat. I'm pissed off by the heat of the sun. Someone became super mad at me by afternoon.

Thursday.

Examinations on Biology and Natural Science, Biology Part.

Burning asleep.

2009-03-16T18:10:00.002+08:00

I just can't figure out why I am experiencing a very high fever right now. Fudge. I am so burning.

Yesternight I ventured on being awake throughout. It was successful though: I did not feel any sign of drowsiness, I was able to wait for the sun rise, and I was finally able to catch breakfast. I slept by 8 in the morning and at the moment I woke up by noon, I was freaking hot. It got a bit down and when I slept by four and woke by six, i felt much hotter. It's so odd. I don't want this. I've got a lot of paper works to do. Fudge.

Storm Bound.

2009-03-15T00:20:00.002+08:00

I just don't feel like doing anything tonight. This evening I just spent my time with my fellow Sigaw-mates (the dormitory newspaper) and surfed the net after. I do not know if its something you can call relaxation but I know deep in me that its what we can certainly call procrastination. I still have a postmodern story for Malikhaing Pagsulat 10 due by Wednesday. Journal Entries for Sociology 10 that I'm planning to submit on Tuesday. I really understand the possible consequences of my lazing around, but hell, whatever. I know I'll be doing the same thing I regretted before. Then fine. Let it be it. So I guess I'll join my friends in declaring this week as HELL WEEK. Whoa. I must survive this storm.

Give me a title, please.

2009-03-13T20:25:00.002+08:00

I don't know what to actually post in this entry. But I just feel like typing so.

It's suppose to be an abstinence Friday, but I wasn't able to follow the must-dos. Mom called me up this morning to ensure that I would eat breakfast. Of course, I did not. I know this day's an all-fish meal at the canteen, and I just don't feel eating that. Then I slept again and woke up by eleven. Eleven in the morning, my class (first class) begins at eleven-thirty! So then I wasn't able to eat anymore. Arf.

And now I don't feel like typing so I'll leave you here. ^^

Farewell Fantasies.

2009-03-12T20:58:00.005+08:00

Sometime soon, most of us - centennial residents of the legendary Kalayaan Residence Hall (highly known for the founding place of the Eraserheads) - will be leaving our rooms, corridors, the dorm itself. We might as well say goodbye to our roommates, corridormates, dormmates, friends, and, yes,even resident assistants. A few days left and we're no longer freshmen. Yes, we've been centennial freshmen but as the next academic year unveils to us UP students, we're simply that and we'll continue again being students with a name of our own, with a title we can call ourselves

No sooner we'll be glancing at the walls of our room, look at the view from our windows, sit on the chair, lie on the bed, step on the red-tiled floor, all for the very last time. No sooner we'll be packing our things, our clothes, our stuff. No sooner we'll be saying goodbye to our very first dormitory in the university, the home we've been in our first year of college life.

Will we find it hard? Easy? How does it feel to leave another year? I do not know yet. But then, it's still a wonder.

Two hours of stolen sweet slumber.

2009-03-11T22:11:00.002+08:00

I feel so guilty for not sleeping last night. I spent the whole night procrastinating. I had a lot of papers to make. But last night was dedicated for quality time with Mortimer (my laptop) and for making our STS report. I accidentally slept at around 4.30 and woke up by 6 in the morning. I wasn't actually planning to sleep though, so it was merely an accident. I managed to finish our written report by the morning, just to find out that the deadline for it was moved - yes, moved - to next week's Wednesday. What. Fudge.

So I guess I have to wish for another good night's sleep. Well, I wish.

I just can't wait for Tuesday. Plan C: Mom and Dad will go to Davao to directly buy me an N79. So I guess I have to wait after all. Keep waiting. What.

Sneaking in my own life.

2009-03-10T22:41:00.002+08:00

By this hour I got the chance to sneak in my own life. I mean, I've been busy all the while and this has been my only chance to get a hold of it. Fudge. I hate this.

Why am I here?

2009-03-07T12:24:00.002+08:00

It's kind of weird. I just suddenly felt that I'm not doing any good. I just browsed the list for those who were given the Gawad Chanselor Award. [I'm sorry I'm not able to provide the URL.] Of course, my name isn't there. I wasn't good enough, and Math 17 (a grade of 2.75 worth 5 units) worsened that. This isn't going anywhere already.
So by this afternoon, I will fully dedicate myself to a heart-to-heart bonding with my class notes and notebooks and books, and we'll be having a good time making myself study.
So before I might even think of losing my mind procrastinating, I'd better start going.

Outrageous.

2009-03-06T21:43:00.002+08:00

How outrageous had this day been. I feel like I've been deciding things all of a sudden.

And I had my haircut at David's For Rever for 350 pesos. Wow. Indeed. May I say it again? Wow.

But I wish I could have myself pictured.

Fudge. My digital camera's still broken and I've been waiting for ages to have it repaired, with the company of my ever-supportive aunt. But I'm actually waiting for money. And I'm waiting for my phone too. Fudge.

People just make me wait too long. And I don't want to wait for nothing. I've already been into that. And I hate it.

Is there more?

2009-03-04T08:45:00.002+08:00

I'm so happy to announce that
I"M NOT YET (AGAIN) IN LOVE.
No, not this time. I am not again focused on my heart. I'm again focused on my materialistic tendencies.
I so can't wait for my N79. Good news came in yesterday afternoon. My father told me that mom already ordered one the other day and it is expected to be shipped there by Friday. I'm expecting to finally have it by Tuesday (if they mail it here by Monday).
Bit by bit I'm getting ecstatic.
But then again, I feel that my sickness is going to visit me again. My nose hurts and I feel oddly warm. well I wish it's not going to be another fever.
I only have twenty pesos at hand here, so I better finish this post quickly so I could pay enough here in the cafe.
I'm ending here. ^^

[Don't] Treat me like a fool.

2009-03-02T11:55:00.002+08:00

For the whole week I've been sick and totally depressed and obsessed to chocolates. This March, I'm making another brand new start.
This time, I"M UNDER RENOVATION.
March plan:
-five minutes of CALMING silence daily.
-jogging on weekends.
-exercise DAILY.
-ban on junk foods.
-ban on soda.
-ban on powdered shakes and juices (and anything artificial).
-ban on food placed on styrofoam containers.
-ban on pork fat.
-abstinence (for lent, too).
If I'd be adding more to this plan, I'd be glad to update you (whoever you are, nobody). If March is the country's Fire Prevention Month, it's my Wellness Month.
Well at least I wanted top be fit rather than fat. ^^

Remedy.

2009-02-27T09:53:00.002+08:00

I got the shock of my life waking up to know that I am still perfectly breathing, alive. I know I'm not ready to die. But then, I just wat to end all this depression. What.
I'm so glad that I still have a friend (yes, only one) who's concerned for me and all that.
Today is my roommate's birthday. I feel happy for him getting a lot of gifts and greetings. I NEVER got any gifts on my birthday. Never. And at most times I still have to shout out to the world that it's actually my birthday for them to realize how important it is for them to greet me a supposedly happy birthday. No sooner I'll be convinced that everything is simply fabricated.
But I still have hopes. I have the March to renew my life and in some way start anew and face all these depressing factors that are grinding me all out.
Starting March, I'm planning to be fit and spiritually active.
I plan to have five minutes of calming silence daily, for meditation and cleaning my mind. I plan to jog every Sunday and/or Monday and finally exercise for real. I plan to make a goal each day (probably wonderful tasks, like charity works). Actually, I am planning to be happy and finally be at peace. And I hope it'd work.

Death by chocolate.

2009-02-26T22:39:00.003+08:00

I never knew until recently that Death by Chocolate is a kind of cake studded with lots of chocolates. I thought it was the literal one.

But I tried dying by chocolates.I ate a lot of chocolates. I might be simply normal but I actually find myself insane eating a whole pack of Flat Tops (almost 800 calories!) and almost finishing a box of Choco Mallows.

Some friends (well, all my friends aren't that many at all.) tell me that it's simply normal and perfectly okay. But then, my paranoid self feels the disturbing heat inside my body and I wish I'd die the next day. How absurd it is but I really am just so upset (with my parents for making me feel like a fool or something else). I hate it. I wish I'd die away.

I just feel so betrayed.

2009-02-26T19:00:00.002+08:00

This must be not real. I feel betrayed by my own parents.

It's not a real big deal, though. But the fact that you weren't told about this and that and they told you something else and they kept you hoping until forever until this absurd news came, it's just so unreal. No. No way.

And I now it's not a good idea, but I definitely want to fade away.

I want to fade away, like a bubble.

I want to probably die.

If onnly dying could erase it all and make it something good.

Up up and upset.

2009-02-24T20:27:00.002+08:00

Fudge. I am so hating my life. I've been upset for the last few days and I haven't gone any better.

I'm not in the mood for any form of happiness. The hell. It's giving me the burns and the urge to actually KILL myself.

I want to eat more chocolates.

I want to die and fade away.

And it's all because of a cell phone. What.

And I don't think I want to ellaborate it just now. I might die of heart attack or high blood pressure.

I'm just totally upset. X(

Confessing shopaholic tendencies.

2009-02-22T22:50:00.004+08:00

[Image removed because I "was not authorized to use the photo". Makes sense. Next time, I'm gonna use my photos and images.]

I just watched Confessions of a Shopaholic at SM City North Edsa and again, I went alone.

So this is supposed to be a movie review.

Thank goodness, Jerry Bruckheimer productions kind of made the movie faithful to it's book. But I wonder if Sophie Kinsella would ever be annoyed of the setting, which is in Manhattan (originally in London, with its sequel, Shopaholic Takes Manhattan, set in New York). I doubt if a sequel would ever exist. (And the movie seems to make a large period in it.)

Rebecca Bloomwood, journalist and shopaholic, takes her life to an exhilarating adventure of ignoring credit card debts (not forgetting to mention that she possesses a total of 12 credit cards) and making up every possible excuse for it. As she goes on avoiding Derek Smeath, the bank's manager, she finds herself crossed with Luke Brandon, at her rising career in newfound Successful Saving magazine where, ironically, she gives advice to readers regarding financial issues. Suze, her best friend where she shares a flat with, keeps an eye on her shopaholic acts. It's a wild and hilarious story to keep you staring into that big silverscreen!

Now let's go to the me-side.

This has been one of the rare times I find myself going back home without any shopping bag at hand. All I had spent inside the mall was a Blizzard at Dairy Queen and the ticket for the movie.

How come you're not even real?

2009-02-22T12:36:00.004+08:00

There. One of my last photographs from my [broken] digital camera (which made me went too depressed, until now).

I'm the one in the middle (in case you don't know who I am). On the left is Dan and on the right is Gilbert. There's nothing special here. It's just that in Kalayaan Residence Hall (of UP Diliman), we are having a Wacky Day.

Yes. Consider me wacky, please. It's not actually something. (Others went into real costumes and crossdressing. I just went on "self-characterization".)

Okay. So I tried putting another (non-related) photo but it did not work out. I can't figure out how to prevent uploaded photos going on the top of the entry.

Going back to the title, I just feel so sad. I mean, I've depressed, caffeinated, isleepless, penniless, and all that goes there. Mom even thinks I now have low blood pressure. Some friends think I have Hepatitis A. What the fudge.

But for a few days I feel odd. I feel somewhat sick. I feel warm inside and I just can't get any comfort. Whatever.

I don't know. I just want to cry this all out and leave everything up to nowhere.

Patience. Longing. Very Fast.

2009-02-19T19:36:00.002+08:00

That's what I heard from Sam Y G, Slick Rick, and - it's taking me too long figuring out his name and I give up. I am again (after a long time of abstinence) is listening to Boy's Night Out. (Or was it Boys'?)

Whatever.

I am experiencing a mild headache. Well, it's not that bad but it's something worse than actually having your tooth pulled out to disturb the hell out of me. And just like in my Filipino blogsite, I choose to end this short.

*end*

p.s. Very fast. Haha.

Turn of the whirlwind.

2009-02-17T20:12:00.003+08:00

FUDGE.

I guess I should be settling to N79. I'm still not sure but reviews say it's better, if not best. http://www.esato.com/phones/index.php/phone=408,cp=321 and http://www.phonegg.com/compare/24/Nokia-E51-vs-Nokia-N79.html

Surprisingly, I found two sites specifically battling the two smartphones: E51 (my current choice) and N79 (another great option - and better, as it seems).

It's not that it just seems to be, but they are actually saying that N79 is better than E51. Besides, E51 was released 2007 and N79 was just like released last year. But I want to be certain about this. I don't want any other mistake in choosing a phone for me. (And I really don't like LG KU250 that my father gave me - without my consent.) But still I think it's a good choice as long as it is Nokia, and on the Nseries or Eseries line. Well I wish.

That silly reason of nothingness.

2009-02-17T18:04:00.002+08:00

Who says we like to hear your reason?

(Oh, by the way, your reason isn't even rational. How nice.)

Alright. So this post is NOT a rant. Haha. ^^

It's just that I'm too lame and whatsoever right now.

In fact, I feel every pressure right now. Hahaha. ^^

Wait. This post is becoming too personal, I think. (Or when have I always been neutral in blogging? Haha.)

If you can see it, this post says nothing at all. I don't even have a reason to post this thing. Haha. What. Fudge.

Oxidizing big bird.

2009-02-15T21:11:00.000+08:00

From where I am sitting, I could clearly hear words of boys memorizing concepts and more concepts for Chemistry. What a life. Actually, they're bringing the hell out of me. I'm not in the mood for any noise - especially noise that's academically inclined.

Now let's talk about someone. Not her. But someone that makes my face so bad whenever I see this guy: Big Bird. I'm not in the mood to bring down my mood but fine; I just want to be more depressed today. Going back to my suggested topic, Big Bird is obviously a name I substituted for his real name. (And I don't know his name, even how much I do see him everyday.) I hate his face. (Yes, literally.) We never talked, and I never knew him but I just hate his face. Maybe there's something in his sleepy eyes that's irritating to me. Or maybe it's his peculiar neck (long enough to really remind me of Big Bird). It really makes me hate him by the way he slowly turns and looks at me with a sudden stare that says, "Die, jerk." and of course, I do hate it. Okay, you can say that I have this disliking for people I do not know and I have never talked to, but then it's really how I feel. I know it's absurd, but always give room for absurdity. Fudge.

Monochrome Music.

2009-02-15T01:34:00.000+08:00

It's one in the morning and I'm still awake. I chose to wake up (and surf the net while using my Smart Bro) to listen to the final instalment of the UP Fair for this year: Meant FAIR Each Other. I just got alive when I heard Soapdish's Tensionado just recently. Now I love the song, for real.

I am now using Google Chrome. I'm just trying to check it out, and now I guess I'm going to replace Mozilla Firefox for this.

And now I finally switched my internet connection from 3G/HSDPA Smart Broadband connection to DILNET, UP Diliman's free internet connection. It's just that my 60 pesos worth of broadband load was all spent for three hours. And I'm not even studying. Fudge. (I love saying that sweet word.)

I don't have any plans, actually. It's just that I'm wasting all my time off because I am obviously in a state of depression. I kept telling my father about the thought of buying me a new cell phone. It all started because my phone isn't simply enough to satisfy my musical needs. I originally wanted an iPod but my father thought that it'd be efficient if I would be bought a music phone. Of course, I have MY standards.

My standards for my ideal phone (for today's time) are:

- expandable memory

- long battery life

- high quality music player

- fm radio

- not folding

- not sliding

- Wireless LAN enabled

- Nokia

And I found all of these in one phone, worth 13 thousand pesos or so: E51. There's a bonus: it's a business phone. Wow. I so love this. I MUST have this phone. I don't care about its incompetent camera feature. All I need is what is on my standard. And E51 really met that up. It's my DREAM.

The problem is that we are just a mediocre family with mediocre financial status. My father always brings up the thought that we had a high amount of debt to be paid, due to my digital camera that was bought last October. In fact, he even had the nerve to say that he'll buy me the phone by October this year. What the fudge! How long would I wait for October? That's like waiting for another semestral break! I indeed do not like that idea.

Okay. So I'm really materialistic. It's just that I want the ideal things with me. Of course I need to listen to music sometimes, especially that my life is degrading down into the state of being idle and bore. Arf. I hope we were rich. Or I hope that we simply can afford to buy a new E51 for me.

Collective Hallucination.

2009-02-14T19:02:00.000+08:00

I gave up on watching Boyce Avenue by 5 in the afternoon. And I kind of regretted it. By the time I finished buying some things (hair conditioner, bath soap, pancit canton for the whole sunday food storage, and a cup of Jjampong) and bought myself a very fulfilling box of brownies bar (worth 40 pesos), I decided to take the ride home, without even having the nerve to peek at what's going on at SM's The Block. I know they're going to be there, Boyce Avenue, but I really cancelled the big plan off. (There's still them tomorrow at the Megamall, but I have no money for real.) There's no way I am gonna watch them. Fudge.
By the time I entered the jeepney, I hitted someone hard on the head - something you could actually call a headbang - and it really hurt. Of course, it went off though. I was actually damn depressed by that time that I even had a minute of sobbing by the time I reached home. There's just no room for a small streak of happiness. Happiness, however, is simply a collective hallucination.
After I satisfied myself with a sweet bar of brownies (of course, brownies are actually sweet but at times they're just too bitter for me), I eventually slept. I had lots of waking hours (and should I still say that I almost have not slept at all?) so I was kind of losing my energy - and motivation.
I took a nap. It was indeed a nightmare. I found myself in a supermarket, and in my mind I assumed that it was in Robinson's. Well, it doesn't look like it, but it's simply what my mind thought of. So, getting to the nightmare part, someone wearing a tundong (probably a Muslim), were to attack me with a knife or some other sharp tool for stabbing. I was in a rush, and I suddenly woke up with a migraine. It was 18.14 on my clock. Geez, I slept for long (which means that I might find it hard sleeping tonight). Fine, at least I got some sleep to energize myself. But it was different. I woke up dizzy. It was different, though. And I just find it absurd being dizzy from sleeping. What a life it is.

Segregating tomato hearts.

2009-02-14T13:14:00.000+08:00

Today is Valentine's Day, a day where couples and lovebirds are as ubiquitous as fastfood chains and street children. You may find a couple liplocking at a bench facing the Manila Bay on today;s beautiful sunset, or see another couple holding their hands strolling on the mall. They might even try eating one string of spaghetti together, until they eat it up sealed with a kiss. You can find them in hotels, motels, inns, lodges, and even at remote grasslands, doing the thing at their own pace in every position possible. Everywhere there are lovers; lovers are everywhere.
However, it's NOT their day. *evil laugh*
Today is Single Awareness Day. (Never mind the way it is commonly shortened.) Today is day of those singles who have their days cold. Actually, lovers are sent out everywhere on this day to feel that they should have been single at all. At the end of the day, they'll realize the high bliss that could only be attained by being single. By the next day, there will be those enlightened who will break up with their lovers (or maybe they'd break up today, who knows?) and will eventually receive the nirvana of single blessedness. Nevertheless, those who stay single will know once again their importance to the society and to the world (ever heard of Singapore's economy?) and then might even replace the Overseas Filipino Workers as the heroes of our nation. How great that could be, right?
So stay single, and you can put a ring on it. ^^

Devolution of a daydream.

2009-02-14T12:51:00.000+08:00

Apparently, this is my first post for this blogsite. By now I do have four blogsites (on my Blogger account) and two of them are the ones that I chose to actually maintain (this one and its twin (but older) brother on the Filipino language. I might as well abandon these sites after a short time of existence (yes, I am indeed insatiable) but I hope that I could even make these sites last for years. Maybe perhaps I should abandon these sites when I reach graduation. Wow.
As I have said earlier, this blogsite and the earlier blogsite are twins. Just notice how similar the wordings of the gadgets and the layout are. And as you can see, I created this site on Valentine's Day. Thinking about this blogsite was all of a sudden (I just thought about this last February 12.) and all that was left on my fantasies was to manage to create it on Valentine's Day. (And I will talk about Valentine's Day a bit later, or on my next entry.)
Last night, I attended again another UP Fair event. (I already attended Rambol, the Thursday installment of the fair.) That is where I took the photograph of the ferris wheel (the banner). Thinking of the ferris wheel as a banner wasn't planned, though. So maybe sometime later I might actually change the title of my blogsite and its banner. However, I wish I could reduce this sensation of dissatisfaction. Why of course, the human species is generally insatiable, and it sucks too, in some way.
Now I guess I did have another daydream come true. This blogsite, something produced from simple thoughts in the middle of a concert night, finally came into being (in a few hours). Another achievement, another something to keep on going.