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.

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.

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?

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.

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

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.

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?

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.

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.

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

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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