Worrywart

2011-12-31T11:54:00.002+08:00

Hey, New Year, save something special for me. Nothing less than my European dream, if you please. Save that date for me now. Cheers.

unease amid apparent bliss

2010-12-22T23:30:00.004+08:00

a secret feeling that maybe this is just an extended spur of the moment, a prolonged amazement of something un-amazing although new, something that will lose glitter, shed off the shiny wrapping paper, and unmask the unremarkable that all along hid poorly beneath black kohl and the occasional mousse blush.

a shadow of you is not you

2010-12-22T23:26:00.005+08:00

the actual irrecoverable thing about it is, you've been taken out of the position where you can do anything about it. someone else is doing a better job now. and the most you have on that person is a faint, faint resemblance that looks nothing like you.

2010-09-05T17:05:00.002+08:00

saying something that might come out too sincere more often than not results in awkward but i want to never apologize for something that i meant...and yet the whole world is built around "avoid awkward" ---one of the WHY-shaped craters in my mind.

2010-07-26T22:17:00.003+08:00

i'm feeling small right now...so.

the loneliest feeling is when you realize you don't have someone...and others around you are snuggled safe against the love of their lives. the bitter thing about it is not that there's no one to love, but that you don't know who you want to love. a no brainer for some.
for some.

Volume on low

2010-05-24T23:26:00.008+08:00

On these Premium-and-Light-on-the-streets nights, the heart opens and uses the only voice it knows...but no one wants to listen. Ultimately, the price of being different is meriting less of what is normally freely given to everyone else. It's not the whiny quality, or the awkward, halting, stuttering delivery...it's that amorphous, difficult mass the syllables had fumbled over.

Maybe my means only comes up to where my pen begins.

They are beautiful, lucid dreams.

2009-09-04T23:25:00.000+08:00

Danger. To not see it at first glance is the first grave, ensnaring step; to ignore the warning and keep on walking is entwining inextricably with peril. The fact that you know such men exist is no guarantee of avoiding the trap, of treading beneath the umbrella of safety. The biggest treachery lies in being self-assured that you will not become his prey.

I have entered the dungeon, where no walls are real, where the only certainties are lies. In the darkness I grope, my eyes closed and blinded with the wonderful promises of the possibilities he can weave, extracting hope, feeding desires. I grip his hand, happily indulging in the illusions, when all the while I am stumbling within his crooked hallways, unperceptive of the bruises on knees and elbows, unaware of the indescribable muck gummed to my ankles.

I began relenting

2009-07-29T23:28:00.001+08:00

the moment I saw him drilling holes into my wall, all serious and undeniably strong, holes that turned out unacceptable, what with the way the curtains now sag a few inches longer onto the floor. I’ve seen him and smelled him better than today, but his hair made me give up my modest resolutions of old and discard them with the oversize shirt and everything else that I hid under. I probably have a weakness for hair and it’s not the first one that has had me at one whiff.

The really warm water made me feel a bit embarrassed, more than what went on under it – something I’ve never done and enjoyed. It was the better of what limited experience I’ve had, definitely. They tolerated everything, missing nothing, and inspired the knots of excitement and anticipation working inside me in places. My inhibitions have all been fleeing my body, exorcised by strong knowing hands, and only now in this unnerving silence have I begun to think if my neighbors could hear anything even without windows that might be megaphones.

Everything is a mess – including me. It’s warm and sticky in my room now but if he were here I would not mind or be able to mind. The floor is splotched dark and icky in places, because no one has lived here before I did and also from the mess he made when he did it to himself standing a few nights ago. I am hungry now but I am thinking too much of the possibility that my phone rings or that I need a bath. This morning was not what I had pictured it to be, turning me monstrously hungry for something I don’t think I’ll be able to fully enjoy or own – all this amidst the sweat and the dust and the heat those damned curtains cost to put up. I have ended up wanting him and so badly do I want him shifting things around and me back at him.

A lot has happened in such a short span of time and

2009-04-01T17:15:00.000+08:00

I am still unable to sit these thoughts gathered around my table in their proper order. There are people who I need to see clearest in my head, yet seem to cloak themselves in a foggy blur, or I am trying to look over a tall, broad shoulder behind which is...Him, the looming grayness of cold, wet, ambiguous temperament, is the least who needs the glimmer of words that I can’t find beneath the dust, pile of dirty clothes, and slapdash clutter of my disorganized existence. His head is turned away, but I am sure his visible ear is not ready for an earplug of my sound.

These days, I am mostly shuffling from one point to the next, no time to slow down, too hurried to get in a decent thought. The flurry of my today life is probably one bad decision to the next – we will not know soon enough. I am at the mercy of my pretty active limbic, and my body hesitantly follows too late for my brain’s slow-to-form protests.

Some mornings, I wake up to feel my nakedness, and it’s alright, even if a red towel is insufficient to ward off the morning and other shivers. It’s alright, and yet the descent of heavy reality makes me long for the solitude wherein which I can always trust myself to deal with it better, much better than when a dark body lies so closely beside and beneath, breathing hugely slowly through lips that, when they find their aim, the swiftness electrifies to the hair.

flowers and starlight

2008-12-09T01:32:00.003+08:00

It is light and consequential warmth that is attractive.

But try as we might to shine, there are just those of us

who dwell in places where the shadows are taller than the sun.

Somehow, we will always emit a cooler fire, of desires spurned,

of feelings unreturned. While it is we who make the bigger

effort, go out the longer way, it is lightness and effortlessness

that will be our doom. The absence of trying, the apparently

natural always seems to be perennially beautiful. Anything else

is overlooked in rejection.

But then there are those who take fondly to the dark, a special

attraction towards the uncommon. Not everyone was after all born

with flowers in their hair. Some were made to hold starlight in their

eyes. There are those who walk nimbly in shadow, where birds

and flowers close their eyes or otherwise grope and

fumble. Adventurers dare to venture into the night, and it

is often they who discover the secret beauties that shelter in

its folds. For not everyone knew to bask in light. Some of us have to be

discovered, uncovered, and revered all in the dark. It is not for everyone.

But it is for some ones.

written on paper 06/18/2008

in your next life, then series - 3

2008-10-06T21:51:00.002+08:00

The last brick fell between us when you dropped your words like goodbye, upping the blue in your child-eyes and plunging my heart to my feet. It felt like we lost that hole of opportunity just enough to lose our heads in a kiss and our hands to reach places. My dreams leave to explore other potentials and my mind fills with just you.

With that final brick, the feeble illusion of freedom shatters and we find our grips tight around the bars of time between us, driven deep into the years before I heard your body speak. What I would give now to own your eyes and cross the breadth of your shoulders to wherer your hair sways to the strength in your arms. Even now I risk to learn the shapes and planes where the eyes are closed and the mouths are caves. But when time does the masonry, iron is steadfast and bricks will harden in the mortar.

in your next life, then series - 2

2008-10-06T21:47:00.002+08:00

I am Atlas and the Earth is my loss
for your gentle eyes are not mine
And I pull the moon without you
My mind cannot fathom sometimes
the nearness of your shoulders
or the firmness of your chest
as it fleets from my back
I could only whine with my eyes
what my heart might put in my mouth
To hurl against your ear
A smile is but my weak consolation
I'm not in love with your lips
but the smell they give you
spirals up my helpless nose and if
I had no body, you would hold my soul
as my mind holds them now
so intimately crushing against my own
Though these dreams make me foolish
I wait like a clown for your next life
where I would be yours and time
becomes our best friend

in your next life, then series - 1

2008-10-06T21:43:00.002+08:00

The deadbolts of your words
And the aching gentleness of your eyes
Feel not unlike regret
Though lamentable that the first
Real emotion between us
is sadness, of chances flying by like arrows
Not taken because time did not permit us
I am still glad
however remotely or less than you
or I would have liked
I feel the pull of the Earth on
my heavy loss
but just give me your gentle eyes
and let me devour the breadth of your shoulders
and hear your broad chest and powerful height
for each day that I am in
love with you
You can go home without me
just come back at the hour
with the sun and until my heart is whole
come to me when your next life has begun

pieces in my sleeve

2008-09-26T10:40:00.001+08:00

i've been tucking in little pieces of my heart in my sleeve, and now i pull them out even if i bleed. you are too much like the rest of them, and i was blind. or maybe i just did not want to see beyond smile and eyes that always cost me, and not just with you. and though fooled, even now with just one gentle word i cave in, waiting to die again.

i am an i

2008-09-10T10:22:00.001+08:00

they'd like me to come to them, keep me at arm's length...perhaps to own, to add another lump to the facelessness. but i'd like to keep my uniqueness, thank you, not subject to the tumultuous sea of emotions and thoughts that will crash around my ears. no thanks. i'm me, i don't want to be your padding while you are snug in the heart of it all.

slowing to a stop

2008-09-09T15:30:00.005+08:00

I'm going sane. coming out of danger, finally.

Io

2008-09-05T16:29:00.002+08:00

I·o [  ō,  ō ]
noun
Definition:

1. woman turned into heifer: in Greek mythology, the daughter of the river god Inachus, turned into a heifer by the god Zeus to protect her from the jealousy of his wife Hera
2. large moon of Jupiter: a large volcanically active satellite of Jupiter
[Via Latin<>

the dawning

2008-08-23T12:30:00.005+08:00

fear creeping in, mouth slightly agape, pale face, tight chest, eyes wide, the threat of pinpricks behind them, trembling in my knees, a hollow i cannot swallow, the dissolution of resolve

and falling.

A frog in my head

2008-06-02T00:49:00.005+08:00

i save tons of various things that catch my eye, touch my heart, and grab my attention. i save to not forget. but they pile up anyway, gathering digital, virtual, and actual dust.

sometimes, there is one thing screaming at me in my mind and that is to smack you awake to the reality that i only want to be a stupid naive princess waiting to be rescued by some fumbling knight smart enough to recognize what it is that's been keeping my heart beyond your reach. but, like the princess, i'm just stupid, and, like the knight, you're just fumbling.

if i long for it this much and for all this time, i'm willing to believe that traveling europe is my personal legend.

i want to decorate your body with a richly ornamented sword, just so i could level the playing field and get back at you for all the heavy throbbing things that force my eyes to expel diamonds and poke at my heart to produce a million shiny pointed rubies.

chugging down to your happy place (the best of luck)

2008-06-01T23:52:00.003+08:00

this distant silence, that nonchalance even now, feels so much like the fine knives of goodbye. i am always competing with your golden love and the intoxication of being with your friends, even when i am at the front step of a new door and our end.

2008-05-17T01:21:00.003+08:00

i love old places. my soul glows with all that history.

chin up little girl

2008-04-17T23:20:00.007+08:00

lift your chin up little girl
ignore the number of your steps
don't worry where you place your feet
and watch not the ride of the road
hurry on at the pace you desire
blink away the state of your hair
keep your head up, just look ahead
for you never know, the stone
that sticks out to trip you
just might be the truth.

cold hills night stars

2008-04-14T00:41:00.006+08:00

in the convoluting corners of my mind
are cold hills night stars
and a smiling face that smears itself
across the back of my eyes
for every second i'm awake
i am brought back
to a patch of darkness for grass
underneath a twinkling roof
where i held your hand
a quick and measly moment
before you walked away
toward sleep and forgetting
now around the rocks and stones in my way
basking in the muted stars
my chest lifted with lightness
while all there was you
my head and mouth could hold
and when i watched you go
back to your life and your love
there went your heart with you also.

make for cold hills

2008-04-13T23:49:00.005+08:00

there is a guy whose singing sends me
hesitantly, to rocky paths
make for cold hills
where horses tread
the sound and stink of milk
and where a fleeting memory
of a smiling face floats in the cold air
the clutter of bags and quick glances
and his distinct laughter in my sleep.

light up

2008-03-28T23:30:00.005+08:00

your breath lazily traces invisible curls in the air before it twines and snuggles into the waves on my head as you exhale, settling there for the night. i am annoyed at this fact. but you look at the others and give an oblivious smile, a pretty, lazy smile that starts and ends in the eyes, of staining teeth in perfect juxtaposition, although they don't reveal the secret wayward molar. the conspirator fingers are somewhere near your legs, a burning strip in between --the commonality of your spoiling parts: fingers and teeth and mouth that like to travel in earthy places. no one else seems to notice.

2008-03-24T19:10:00.003+08:00

i am inclined to think that boys (and maybe most men) would never get it that any answer could always be converted into its exact opposite. even a pretty forceful "NO," with careful technique, can be changed into a soft but firm "Yes." if they could just think out of the box for a second (special ones may be given up to a minute).

(éè_)

2008-03-24T09:16:00.002+08:00

i seem to be going in life forgetting exactly how i liked (or used to like or should look for what i like) in people, in the first place. with the smallest hint of annoying flaw, i pull the shutters to its fullest length, mostly never to raise it again. i fear how i am going to run out of friends in this journey at this rate. i do not want to become this person. i will lose the friendship of the universe.

you

2008-03-20T22:41:00.004+08:00

you who lays official claim
to this heart and most everything else
you who never fails
to leave no emotion chambers empty
and my brain with trains of regret and flight
you who each single day tries
to greet a laughing good morning
and remind of yourself
you who at half a chance
would be left behind without remorse
you who always end with
the shorter stick and secret running eyes
you who should start thinking
of another heart twice or thrice

another you

2008-03-20T22:24:00.004+08:00

out of nowhere an image just jumps out in my eyes
blocking my view of the blue square screen
and I didn't even see you in my mind
maybe that is how it works
you lurk in the darkened side of my brain
away from light, but there,
waiting for your spotlight

you are being removed
from a prominent place in my chest
but you claimed a seat nevertheless
even against my permission
you have been ruined thus far
to expel you from your wanderings in my head
but there you go claiming your importance
in the middle of my ochre paper and olive pen

seeking Opportunity

2008-03-17T23:50:00.007+08:00

untangle myself from the locks of seeming impossibility
to see the tiny exit holes that must exist surely
into the realm of my dreams and secret heart
where my happiness lies and fulfillment trickles in waves

little trapdoors, shrunk to just my size
concealing the meadows of narrow cobblestone streets,
terra cotta buildings and sleepy countrysides in hazy frames

I beckon for that honey comb that will work through
the knots of an over-ordinary life, loosening
jumbled skeins of creeping despair with amber strokes and caramel sunlight

brittle black and brown rough wisps trailing
of dust and dandruff of plodding days
that take me further from the real beat in my chest

so I will seek to stumble into just the rabbit hole,
no matter the dark musty terribly strange claustrophobia
if only to help this Alice remove the rose in her eyes
to find the warts on these smooth dreams

a friend

2008-03-17T23:36:00.003+08:00

hair lengthily spiraling over sharp dark eyes, cursing twisted back, rejecting incongruent hips, closing eyes over lopsided chest: the real worrywart, super obsessive compulsive, routine/habit freak --but also weaver of words, Master's in Un-emotion, fashion forward, lonely little only girl, mature innocence, little woman of the world

maybe you can take me with you on your grand elaborated carousel in my next life

:'(

2008-03-17T22:36:00.003+08:00

Do you know just how difficult it is to stare your biggest dream in the face and not see any gaping hole through which to fulfill it? DO you KNOW? When all you could do is see it filter through flat glass as if on display, seeming so close but really an entire impossibility away. You know it, deeply and hopelessly stuck, in your gut that it IS what you want most in the whole Deep Blue Sphere...and yet there is NO WAY to get there. Money? None. Qualifications? Zero. Even if you fill your bank ceiling to floor, it will always just be temporary, it will have to end, and your mind will replay over and over your terra cotta house just slipping, away, into thin air, poof, nothing. Because you are poor. Because you are nobody. Because your dream is just too big for your tiny existence.

I want to believe in the universe conspiring in the fulfillment of dreams so badly. Deeply and helplessly.

refuse

2008-02-28T22:25:00.003+08:00

because it would hurt me so
i hope i do not end up among your decrepit shoes who once owned
the glow in your eyes
or the flowers of my written effort
that eventually find themselves in some forgotten corner in your house
may you acquire the sense it takes
to hold my heart well above
the dust collecting beneath your bed and sticking to your window pane
i can only shut my eyes and wish like hell that like you look at your pot before you flush, you would do the same and find me before you throw your garbage out

cryptography

2008-02-28T22:25:00.001+08:00

if only i could pay a penny for all the secrets in your eyes
or the key to the back of your mind fall into my eager lap
how easier would it be to not need
the rosetta to speak your codes
decrypt the puzzles you feel the need to create

cowboy

2008-02-28T22:24:00.002+08:00

if you do not see the signs, you must be falling asleep. all the letters i read are about the sad thing that is us, twisting and pulling a rope around my chest as a bull that struggles to unman itself or a dog scratching at its fleas. in melancholy lines i read the hurt in your eyes and i feel even more the helpless watching i am doing in this bad movie. we are strangers back again, thinking we know each other too well that there is nothing new to know and contempt is all there is to reach for. you are struggling too much to be the strapping cowboy that you are not and i douse your ego every time for saying so. and you never fail to bring me my comeuppance by hitting on every nerve you think hurts the most, but of course i am more dynamic than you think. i bury my aces beneath thorny roses and you have not thought to dig, perhaps dreading the dirt under your nails or the scratches to your flesh. what you will find is always worth the pain, i guess, but you are too afraid of hurt and would rather drown yourself in a golden stupor with ye old faithful friends. why is it that you believe you have given a world of effort when you haven't even hit the heart of what it is that keeps me at your side? the clock hasn't struck twelve and you are ready to trade in your guns so that you can pursue the craven life you feel safer off living. you have not even seduced my mind and yet you believe you have earned the right to keep your hat on while you follow the button trails to my breasts. even though you keep me on the edge of breathlessness, i am more inclined to kiss a man with a purple eye and bruised lips. you are more beautiful than any, but i have other plans than become a mother to someone who shuddered between my legs and thought of his horse.

bitch

2008-02-28T22:21:00.002+08:00

is that a woman that shapes the secret in your eyes?
or are you really who you say you are?
am i leasing the use of your body without pay?

if you should decide that you need more than all i am
all at one time then heed that so soon you will lose
the right to my lips and the deed to my eyes
you will only so quickly drown in the eager
wetness of your woman and her fake fragrance
but thirst for a whiff of my mouth and a whole jug of my scent
and one day you will wake up in the staleness of her lips
on your face and long for my dewy thoughts that will
never again touch your parched ears

Quarter-Life Crisis

2007-12-17T00:32:00.000+08:00

They call it the "Quarter-life Crisis." It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like.You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that youthought you were close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones.What you don't recognize is that theyare realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty,mean or insincere but that they are as confused as you.You look at your job... and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom, and that scares you.Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. One minute,you are insecure and then the next, secure.You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you.Or you lay in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure outwhy you are doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person.One-night-stands and random hook-ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over andover, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision.You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself... and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender! What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as wecan to figure this whole thing out.

-snipped from eve's blog

hallowed hollow

2007-12-16T23:51:00.000+08:00

Just one of the sights when you are in Tuscany, Italy (probably not on the tourist circuit). To be able to be here and see it for myself gives me goosebumps.

do you know how it feels like

2007-12-16T22:30:00.000+08:00

to want something with all your heart, seeing it in pictures, and you can't stand the thought of seeing them all through another person's camera shots and not through your own experience, that you just have to close that window and try to ease the pressure in your chest and the mercury of your emotions, to want something you don't know if you'll ever get, with all the road blocks that you have to clear from your way in order to finally be there and breathe the air no matter how cold and snuggle into a really nice trenchcoat and look good and belong in the scene overall, to finally be there after everything and everything actually goes well....ahhh, wouldn't it be loverly.

(Pre)occupations

2007-10-21T19:53:00.000+08:00

Dimpling the doldrums.
Dropping off at the daydream-
ing office. Rummaging through the memory closet. Sweeping mental cobwebs. Exercising written imagination. Hoping for distant
sunsets and trench-coat weather. Wanting impossibilities
and
other
difficult
illusions.

an idyll to do again

2007-10-21T19:51:00.000+08:00

sit back, kick your slippers off, have a huge helping of beach and sunset horizon over a cupful of thoughts...

the onset of spoilage (scrapheap of spoiled serenity)

2007-10-21T19:34:00.000+08:00

after a while, you start to steer your mind toward those days when it was fun, when you believed there was nothing to worry about. when your best weapon was your state of mind. when you were free.

after a while of this, you do. inevitably.

Ivory yellow

2007-10-20T13:04:00.000+08:00

I love this room. How it filters out the heat and retains just the brightness from the high afternoon sun soaking the curtains, the sheets, the walls. I love this kind of light. An optical trick: my skin looks paler, better, the sunlight illuminating its many flaws to a more acceptable hue. The darkness lightens beneath my eyes, and I acquire rosy cheeks and lips. Everything is an ivory yellow. I bask in this light, enjoying the scintillating caresses on my body. While my dark-haired boy keeps his hands confined to his newspaper.

Dark hair crowding over piercing eyes. My most favorite thing about my most desired person. I can live without the long tapering fingers of his teasing hands. I can give up that special mouth. I can live, contented, with just his eyes. Dark eyes exciting my every nerve, when they glitter with an urgency or import, when they close in surrender to something just beyond himself. Although, I don't go where he goes when he closes his eyes. We go to different places, separate, even in oneness. When we descend, it is back to a certain awkwardness, that of a shared intimacy with a stranger. Though we are together. It hurts.

Dynah, she pops into my mind. I am nothing like her. She is nothing like me. Young, naive, but easy on the eyes, she was the perfect object to set fire to his youth. Single and looking for it, he was having the time of his life. She, smitten and eager, paid for the settee where she lost her virginity.

When I writhe and moan beneath him, or close my eyes and move my hips on top, I can draw his obvious pleasure. She was nothing like me. I am the ignition. I am movement. She was the flame who singed the moth. Did he take her? Most definitely. While I have to make him. DId he enjoy it, I wonder, helped himself to the tender girlish treats that can be fondled along the way. Did he pour her a helping of his special essence?

He just sits there, breathing the cool silence, while I lift my airy chemise and expose my breast, pretending to be oblivious of my ivory yellow reality. I long to be creeped up on, from my legs upward, slowly and teasingly. Not to keep my head bent down or do the straddling loco motion.

I do the sleeping moan, poking my nipple through fingers of paler hand as paler foot scrapes his chair lightly. Oh, at last, a hand sweeps up my leg. But goes directly for the dewy bull's eye. I open my eyes. He is no longer attired and is undoing me next. Typical. How typical. His domesticated daughter of joy, am I?

I free his hand, oozing with wet warmth, and unpop my breast from between his teeth. I walk naked and unblushing to the spotless tub and run a bath. Starting from this second I don't care about his anger or try to know what he's up to. My vision blurred, I search for my 18-carat gold friend hidden in the towel drawer. It will do, just as cold, just as unfeeling, but meant for only me. I half wish that he'd crash the door and demand for his afternoon treat. But I lower the golden rod.

And for once, we come together and meet in the sky.

cramped

2007-08-24T05:52:00.000+08:00

there are so many hang-ups in my life, i've found. i can be more liberated in my thinking, and yet i am stuck with describing the surface, because i am unable to pierce through what's beyond. i do not even know what is beyond, i just know i can perceive more when i'm there. for now, i can only read my thoughts and what i am in some other person's words. i long for that time when i can read my thoughts, my very existence in my own words. or is that forever an impossible, blind thing? brandon boyd, alanis morissette, where do they find their words? i think it is only through going beyond the boundaries of what you know, venturing into the uncharted, though not so uncharted, for others would have gone before. i long to be the one who puts things on the map, and be ahead of the entire human pack for once. i want to grow wide and deep and well-watered. how, how, how.....

Butterflies and Kites

2007-04-02T01:29:00.000+08:00

(words inspired by the Tori Amos song)

I wouldn't have held on to the tail of your kite had you not led me to believe I could. I wouldn't have, and I would not again. It is never an intention of mine to hold you back or tie you down. Perhaps it needs your understanding that the situation you placed yourself in makes that inevitable. It has become logical to me to say that to pursue love would be to let go of a good many things. But I guess that sort of statement is not easily comprehensible to you who feel the urge of flight and freedom, tainted by the views of the world as it is. You are not getting blamed for that, as I am doing no such thing. It is only lamentable that for such a person who can think outside the box, you are so much in one. (I am sure I am inside several of boxes myself, none of which are relevant at the moment. I am only pointing to that which concerns this mutuality). Lamentable still, that it is a box which divides our views irreconcilably. For something that has endured over years, there is a substantial lot left unsaid, unexplored, and undiscussed. Surprising though how it could endure when it started and kept starting on the wrong foot. But something founded on the wrong things will always be wrong. But stay and fight and try to straighten it out. That's a guarantee only of a rough road, and I'm sure flight is more compelling. There is an exhilaration to it, an almost boundless freedom. No, regrettably, I cannot hold the string while you fly your kite. I am a butterfly who flies on her own wings to pursue her own compulsions and ambitions. Lose your string and gain your wings. My freedom was not meant to buy you yours.

You must also see, we are right now creatures of flight. To pursue our path will eventually lead to staying aground. It may seem untimely to shed my wings when I've only just gained them. So will you get your tail pulled from behind you should you proceed in such similar fashion as you do now. We, all of us, feel that urge to be cared for and be paid attention to by someone, when everyone else has their concentrations on some other thing or person. But don't you think it rather selfish of us? To only want a someone for their exclusive attention on us when the world is ignoring us, and then when we have all eyes back on us again, we have them totally out of mind. For what do you propose is the reason for seeking such personal connection as this? Are you having marriage in mind? What more do you need to learn of a person after all those years to not be thinking of marrying? Yes, maybe I have changed my point of view, which in all honesty, I feel many times better having done so. I feel purer, less tainted, though I am nothing holy. Scoffing and mocking will lead you nowhere, tightening only my resolve. I propose that it is not the means you use to persuade me from this, if you do intend such a thing.

This is not to say I feel nothing or care any less. This is a consideration for practicality and an evaluation for direction. Where is it going? Where do you intend should this go? I do not desire to go with the wind, or with the moment. I intend to have a purpose there in your life, beyond than what meets your needs at this time. Well, that is one expectation this has brought about. And there are and will be many more. So think. I have places to go; my heart is almost ready for the unknown, to take on adventure. I don't think you'd want to move away from where you are now. I won't pull your tail again. I won't push you, the acrobat, seeing as you don't have a net. So tell me if you want to fly your kite. I am not in charge of the string, hand it to someone else. I am a butterfly, I did say. You can keep having someone hold the string for you, or you can join me on your own wings. Only then will I acquiesce to let the wind blow me. Until then, maybe you might finally metamorphose. Maybe. In the meantime, I am almost there. Join me or we'll see each other again one day. I do believe in destiny, after all. Don't you?

Birthday Post

2007-04-02T00:57:00.000+08:00

Maybe one's birthday is indeed one's (special) day. For one day, you get to have some attention (if you're not at all the center of attention). For one day, you get to feel how special you are to others, or at the very least (which is not at all less), to your Maker who made you happen. Not only are you special because you are alive , you get to feel special as well, at least once a year.

This must be vague. I can't quite find the words to perfectly describe the wonderful set-up God has created around each one's creation, birth, and birthdays. I'll get back on this when I get it right.

An Invitation To Come

2007-02-27T17:51:00.000+08:00

Come. Stray, wander. Cultivate pleasant fountains where you find them. Linger where you will, there is no hurry in this endeavor. Stray ever south, for more pleasantries lie in impatient waiting. Don't hesitate at the door; come right in, for you are awaited. You have been invited for something warmer than tea, to soar on a rush more intense than caffeine. Once joined at the hip, hesitant of parting, let's pursue the elusive excitement of touching every star. And when we've wearied, let's rest a bit and regain the vigor we would need, before long. But as I stir early and head for the southerly pole, the ride begins anew.

A Woman

2007-02-15T21:35:00.001+08:00

I am a woman. You cannot expect me to be like you. I am a woman, with a brain and a heart. You cannot sever either one from my being. I can think for myself, and I feel even more. I am a woman, in touch with my emotion; do not presume I can be so cerebral and invariably logical. I am emotional, even if I do not seem so. I am a woman. I feel the need to be beautiful and feminine, sensual and romantic, the essence of what I am. No matter what I may do or say or appear to be, I go back to my fundamental core, a woman. I am a woman, unique, with my own senses and perceptions. Do not dictate on me what I am supposed to become and just let me be...a woman. I am a woman. I am strong. No matter if you say you are stronger. I am a woman, made to be me, not made to be made into what someone else would want me to be. I give of myself because it is what I want or feel, not because it is what you want. Love me for me, what I am - a woman.

Because the Night Belongs to Lovers

2007-02-01T19:19:00.000+08:00

A love stronger than death... Gothic and eerie, almost supernatural... or even already that...

The moon is an unearthly glow of a hundred stars...I'm playing that song...It seems to come from a distance...I am somewhere else, on another night like this...The notes echo in that gaping emptiness where you used to be ...Could you hear me where you are, I wonder...Can you still the wrenching inside me...It feels like you're here somehow...I'll keep playing for a while...

My love...I am here...Our love is an endless song in my lonely, forgetful hereafter...Bringing me back from the dark folds of moon shadow...to remembering...to you...Feel me beside you, ethereal but aching...Play the melodies that beckon me to life...On this silver night, we are one...

Feeling (v.)

2007-01-07T17:31:00.000+08:00

if this seems irrational, it's not, just non-rational. the brain cannot process that sort of things.

you would think that life was perfect because you have it all...or almost all of it that you want in your life. a guy, a job, graduation, euro trip...or whatever it is that you have and think you love right now...

are those really touching movies realistic? are they common occurrences in the world? surely they didn't mean for us to despair?

think spirited away. there wasn't even a kiss that was shared but the emotions were so infectious that there's no question it was... l'amour...

or those korean movies and TV series. one thing about them is that they know how it should be.. walking the talk, or even no talk at all. a flutter of the heart here, a rush of anger there...and there's heaven. and the best part is, they didn't even have to shed anything. and the guys get angry and affected! i like that. i think i have a peeve about guys that think emotions are for women. when you love, i don't think you could be anything else but jelly. there is dignity in love, contrary to their ideas.

i want... to be swept away, to go through a rollercoaster ride - of emotions, of happenings, of the senses. i want to feel. to experience everything through my senses. i'm tired of the thinking brain. i feel like i will only be needing that area to interpret my emotions into words so i can write them down.

better yet, pictures. snapshots remind you better of sensations. snapshots of what i did, where i went, who i was with. they let you remember better, communicate faster. words tend to delay the transmission to the core of emotions.

yes, because i really want to feel. i feel i've stopped feeling with too much thinking. i've been rationalizing and i want to stop.

if i am with someone, i don't want to think. i want to just feel my way through the time we spend together. guard down, cards on the table. just feel... and it won't work if he just keeps thoughts. no thoughts. just sensations.

i may never be good at exchanging wits. okay, okay. i'm as slow as i may as well be. but i actually feel i'm better off feeling.

this city is dull, overflowing with westernization and americanism, like skin without exfoliation. i want to go someplace and be shocked back to feeling and living. japan. or the european country - the lands of my idealized dreams. no, no america. someplace where ideals are not scoffed at but held in esteem, someplace untouched or barely tainted by business, money, and worldliness. someplace, where i would like to spend my life in because i like it there.

i have no japanese animations to evoke these sentiments in the midst of my dreary existence. i can only aspire and dream, waiting to see if the universe has meant for me to have this, this small ambition to be free from the wearying sophistication of the times, and just live simply to feel...to pursue beauty. to live to pursue beauty...wouldn't that be lovely.

God is in the beautiful things... that Paulo Coelho is really clever.

The Craft

2006-12-26T14:25:00.000+08:00

This is another of those lengthy ponderings/ramblings. Consider yourself forewarned. xoxoxo

Words... I love words. I am always interested in how to put things another way, creatively, or to achieve a certain effect or tone or mood. I am always interested in how other people use words to put things in whatever way they wish to put them. I wonder if they merely use words just as they are, in random, or are their sentences carefully constructed, with purpose and meaning that only they and whoever else they told are privy to. I wonder at those whose vocabularies encompass words, phrasings and idioms that mine doesn't, how they had come upon these elements of language in their lives.

Had they constantly rubbed elbows with an intelligent, language-conscious crowd? Did they read widely, on every field of interest, every subject in the world?

I am amazed by such acquisitions, and since I have no immediate answers, I merely believe my own uneducated, purely instinctive guesses into the matter. I try to get my hands on every book that interests me. Indeed, I read every piece of reading material that so much as contains a word or phrase that piques my curiosity. I worry about the action I assume I am missing, thinking there might exist certain circles or groups that I am not aware about, who live and breathe the intricacies of language. I worry that there may be things that I need to know to become better at wordplay that I may never know.

Perhaps there are self-inflicted standards, perhaps it is instinctively knowing that there are higher levels to the abilities at the moment. It is not clear, but there is a drive in me to continually learn about styles and manners of putting things, words upon words, and new ways of looking at things. Stopping or hindering this continuous learning process might lead to mediocrity. I fear of inadequacy and incompetence in this craft that I happen to love, because of what I may not know. And I just find that unacceptable, because I know it in my gut that this is what I was born to do. It is difficult to speak of any other feasible job that I would want to practice as near to perfection as I could deem.

I believe this is what I want to be called as or be thought of. And if others may decline to think so, I hereby and thenceforth proclaim that I am --amateur, but yes, a writer. As a preventive measure to complications arising from differences of opinion, the matter of my being a writer is self-imposed, should other contentions (e.g., natural ability) be deemed inapplicable.

To simplify it all, I am one because I say I am one. The world will agree, or it will respect that declaration. Either way, they will call me a "writer", or by any other term that means the same thing. Self-proclaimed or whatever.

xoxoxo

I don't really know how I will go about life as a writer. I am uncertain of what kind of writer I would go down in history as. I'm quite doubtful about becoming a novelist. The work seems, I don't know, daunting. I fear, though I am a writer (because I proclaim to be, if for no other reason), I am not too fond of intricately twisted or even heart-wrenching plots (with J. Grisham and N. Sparks particularly in mind), unless I myself am the reader. It will cost me too much brooding and too much time. It's still too early, the time is not yet ripe for such decisions. We never know, but we never know.

I'd like to leave further ponderings of my writing career to the near future, but here is one more hopefully helpful insight about what it might be. I do like to put my thoughts down on just about anything that keeps me awake at night, stirs me from my idle lounging on the sofa, or just plain spurs my mind to keep its cogs in good repair. It helps me think about things better. It helps me learn. Most relevantly though, it puts my wordplay abilities to good use.

To articulate one's thoughts and emotions, to aptly match the descriptive term to the mental image or sentiment, is a small but satisfying task, from which I derive a warm pleasure every time.

Which leads me to consider the idea of becoming an essayist. In my partially educated belief, an essay can concern just about anything, anything at all, at the author's personal discretion, and in a formal or informal manner.

So, let's see...

A boundless playing field to attempt to cover. Endless combinations of variations in wordplay.

Sounds like fun. So yeah. Why not.

But that will be the furthest that I will go for now. As of today, such talk is still woven of the very fabric of the future: uncertainty.

Ostentatiously Making Sense

2006-12-16T13:53:00.000+08:00

It could be that one creates the ends that come about in one's life, whether one may like them or one may not. The ceaseless naggings of self-doubt wears on one after a while, that one is compelled to choose self-preservation above otherwise important priorities. The rationality of such personal uncertainties does not even substantiate such choice to be chosen. Anxiety is so much a human essence, so embedded into the most basic core of being, that the responses are practically automatisms. Notwithstanding, you learn to frown upon such mechanisms of the human psyche, albeit subconscious and so, involuntary, for the unhealthy outcomes it can create in relationships. When in certain instances you would only aspire for the happy continuance of such intimate connections, the invisible triggers of anxiety and its spontaneous outputs fairly manage to complicate the simplicity of such goals. The road to accomplishing supposedly simple objectives becomes riddled with all manner of hindrances, that the traveler down such road undoubtedly experiences adversities, often in varying intensities. Furthermore, it is often than not that the unfortunate pilgrim is tested beyond his limits and is continually made to confront his imperfections by overcoming them, which does not at all seem uncomplicated, even just by itself. One is hence inclined to sigh both in pity for the journeying fellow and in the stark realization that it is simply the way that all life proceeds, though there is anything but simple about it. Life is intrinsically complicated, arduous, and problematic. All are hopelessly intricately entangled by a pernicious coincidence into its unintelligible tapestry.

Heart or Limbic System or Whatever

2006-12-16T10:19:00.000+08:00

Love is so blind, it feels right when it's wrong...

Knowing when something's wrong is fairly easy; it won't feel right. It's knowing if it's right that's somewhat tricky. 'Cause, you know, it might feel right even if it's wrong.

Or...well, I'm confused. Why would something wrong feel right? Cancer hurts because there's something wrong.

Okay, here it is. Right or wrong belongs in the logic department. Use your head to determine right from wrong, wrong from right. Never determine one from the other using your heart, or limbic system, whatever. Tends to confuse the unfortunate soul in such predicament.

And if it's a little too late 'cause you've already used your heart (or limbic system or whatever) to lose your way, use your head to find your way back. It's how the text message goes, and it makes sense.

Correction...

2006-12-05T16:40:00.000+08:00

So I discovered a link from a comment on one of my older posts that led me to read, oh, just one or two hate posts about me. I know it was about me, of course, because I happen to know the blog owner (I seem unable to apply the term "blogger"). And there's also the time that she said one of those slanderous words she used against me in her posts, literally behind my back. So perhaps that doesn't leave much room for doubt about who the intended receiver of those electronic hate publications is. I pretty much know the story behind the whole drama, although she pretty much took great liberty at interpreting my whole life, blog, and demeanor for me - in a very malicious and insulting way, I might add. I am the only person who can say what things are for me with certainty, but I guess everyone is indeed entitled to an opinion, regardless of accuracy and truth content.

But that was long ago, though I don't think anyone would forget anytime soon. Amidst the foul effects of her blind rage, she raised a question in my mind that I would like to elaborate on: Am I really that kind of person who does not know how to value friendship? Do I truly use friendship as a tool to achieve my selfish intentions?

I will admit to many things (except to what she had been accusing me of), including being not too friendly and sociable. I make my way in life not picking up a lot of friends as I go. I swim through social situations without making at least one person think of me in a new and enlightened way, or at least make them think again about their initial impressions. But that probably doesn't mean it's because I'm evil, does it? There could be several good reasons, and her best bet could have been psychological. Not having close friends, or just having friends, for that matter, does not automatically make me a poor appraiser of the value of friendship. Not having friends does not entitle me the description "manipulative" (not her own words). I don't think so.

Because I do value friendship. The person who has less of something, makes that person value that thing more, I guess. I do not operate by the statement "I don't need anyone", because simply put, I need others. It's not easy to bottle up emotions all the time, for lack of a sounding board to beat the melodrama away. But I don't know how it would be that simple to open up to someone whom you have not learned to become comfortable sharing your emotions with. There are people I am surrounded by on an almost day-to-day basis, but I don't think I can spill my insides to them. They're the type that first needs...well, pleasing. It's a different thing that you try to please others so that they will accept you and become their friend, from that you become other people's friend because they know and accept who you are, even if they don't totally like you. Whoever said that you have to please people first before you become their friend? Well that's how it is right now, where I am. I do not agree, and I could not bring myself to conform. Plus totally pathetic social skills equals no close friends at the moment.

I value friendship, but I don't think you make friends because you value friendship. You become friends with people. And that's because you can connect with them. It's the connection, not the necessity, that paves the way for friendship to develop and grow. Maybe we've developed our own ideals about friendship that we force them upon ourselves and those people we consider our friends. And we make all these expectations that we think are intrinsic in a friendship, and end up disappointing ourselves and others. And sometimes, we cannot even be blamed, for do we not all wear some type of colored glasses, that we each see things in a different light?

But anyway, maybe I am socially inept. Being that as it may, it still does not translate that friendship is a functional relationship for me. Well yeah, some friendships can be functional. And perhaps everyone has had one or two at some point in their lives. But in the context that was used, I should take issue with that person. But then I guess, no matter how twistedly malicious her point of view was, I saw where she was coming from, so I can say, regardless of the somewhat strong urge to retaliate, I understand. It's one of those instances that you want to indulge your emotions, but you still have enough sense left to realize that there really is nothing to gain in doing so. And you get uneasy from the internal turmoil that you have to let it out somehow. This is what it's all about, I guess.

Fuming

2006-11-25T21:58:00.000+08:00

I was doing a marathon of Grey's Anatomy, and I had to stop to go out for a bit to order some take-out. I never got a chance to pick up where I left off. My sister and her boyfriend had to arrive and monopolize the tube. Polite as I am (or maybe just too chicken to demand for the resumption of my marathon), I'm now in front of the PC, albeit unwilling, trying to diffuse the fumes of my uncalled-for anger, or else drowning it out with the music plugged in my ears.

I'm unsociable. I've noticed that long before. I have an apprehension to share who I am with other people. I can't think of anything that could be wrong about opening yourself up to others, but that's just my social behavior. Is that bad? I mean, I can make friends, get to know others if I want to - "if" being the operative word. Even change, the most inevitable thing in the world, disturbs me - sometimes. 'Cause on those other times, it's what I long for in my life. If I can't have my ideal happy ending, there better be a lot of variations, escape routes from ugly/uncomfortable situations, exits to freer positions in life or to better points of view or points to view from. I'm becoming vague here, but I can't really spell out what I'm talking about. Not at this point in time, anyway. Maybe later. Watch out for that.

Meanwhile, I now feel a bit better. Good.

Small

2006-11-21T22:42:00.000+08:00

I have a curse, and it will plague me for the rest of my life.

I am substantially insecure of myself, so much so that it affects everything about my life. I am always unsure about what I do, always fearful of being wrong, embarrassed, or thought little of. When at it's best, my insecurity never fails to get the best of me, making certain I feel absolutely the littlest regard for myself. All such feelings only negated and countered when my other perfect flaw, Anger, is stirred and awoken. That's when I feel my best. That's when I know I can do anything. That's when I believe that I have worth and significance just as everyone else - or even more than they do. Otherwise, I'm inexplicably unhappy or feeling totally worthless.

I'm almost certain to be living out my pathetic existence forever seeking the approval of other people, approval that I should have been given in my formative years. Approval tha has been withheld or thought me undeserving.

And that's why I do not doubt misery as an inseparable companion in life. I will be miserable for as long as I live, imprisoned by a constant self-doubt, filled with anxiety and sadness. I will become a recluse, unable to invest emotion or pledge commitment. I will spend all the days that I have been given on this earth in solitude. And perhaps, that is how I shall be found when I am dead...alone -if ever I do get found, and if someone noticed my absence at all. But perhaps, before that even happens, I will have surrendered to the sorrow and hurled myself at some self-inflicted death I will have thought most fitting at that time, when that time comes.

Bound and Broken

2006-11-18T16:02:00.000+08:00

I've always pictured myself to be a free spirit. Unbound by the world's conventions, though part of its spiritual fabric. Someone who feels every passion, every desire, every dream, every whim, is to be pursued and everything else is to be left behind. Someone who journeys with the wind, and changes as it does. Someone whose fire dies with her taming, and so must always run in wild abandon. Someone who cannot put down roots and must always be free. This personal visualization gives off a heady and romantic perspective on how I should go about life:

I would always be elusive to everyone who tries to catch me. I would be mysterious, intriguing. So near...yet so far. Otherworldly. I cannot be restricted, and must always run. The only way to keep me would be to set me free.

Maybe that's why I have such a fondness for Miyazaki Hayao movie animations. His characters are often mysterious, ephemeral, fragilely beautiful, and free-spirited. They hit the soft spot of my personal fantasies. They keep you on the edge, waiting, anticipating, and in the end, you yearn and ache for either knowing you cannot have them or for not knowing if you can have them, or when. And you have to watch over and over again, even if it's just to relive those moments with those characters.

I guess I've carried this fantasy over to real life. From what I've learned from friends and classmates over the years, I am indeed somewhat elusive. Elusive in that I tend to hide who I am behind this mask of indifference and seriousness that I had cultivated in my younger years and have now mastered. It takes me a long while to let my guard down. I am a rebel, a nonconformist. I question rules and dislike them (I create my own). I've gone through situations where I bent or altogether broke them. And yes, I have this tendency to run. I run away from situations that make me uncomfortable, make me own up, situations that I don't like, situations that tie me down. When I feel choked and restricted, I want to move where I can be free. And I do believe that I should not be the one to adjust to other people. Rather, they should adjust to me.

But now, I'm not so sure anymore. I've broken my own rules. Years spent having to conform has mellowed me into wanting to be accepted, to be liked, to be approached, to be needed. And those I haven't achieved at all. I still stick out in an odd way not entirely to my liking. I am not needed, not really liked on the whole. Not even approachable. I feel like I am ordinary, mediocre, and boring. I merely exist, without real purpose or meaning. I am not myself. I am not alive where I am.

Hate and Hate Relationship

2006-11-10T05:27:00.000+08:00

I have this thing about roaches. I hate them. I think they are the most despicable, most disgusting living things to crawl the face of the earth (thank God it's not my face). I can tolerate rats and mice. Spiders, creepy as they are, can only try (Snakes and other truly potentially dangerous animals are another thing, though). But no other average creepy crawler can make me absurdly apprehensive of them as a cockroach. The mere idea of a cockroach wildly flying about and land on any part of my person makes me cringe. It's not at all comforting to note that they have been around since and even before the time of the dinosaurs - practically unevolved - which only means that they will likely be around for a million more years. Which only means that we who hate them, and the rest of humankind are gonna have to try to live with them while we are alive. Huh, tough.

My aversion to roaches is definitely in the core of my being, that when I dream about them, I wake up hitting the lights on and checking the entire room, the dream still vivid in my mind. During those last moments before returning to an uneasy sleep, I get overly sensitive to the tiniest prickle on my skin that just might be stressed nerve endings or something crawling up on me, or to the tiniest rushing sound that just might be a roach's dark, ugly wings beating and chafing and scraping against each other. And that sound, is the most disgusting and horrifying sound that will reach my ears at night while in bed. That's why I'm here in the first place at five-ish in the morning when I don't usually get up until 9 or 10. Woke up to another cockroach bad dream. What the dream was, to keep it sweetly short, was a cockroach invasion in bed. I just had to get up and keep myself sane. It must have been my subconscious' twisted recollection of an actual occurrence when I was younger. We were all sleeping and were waking up to cockroaches crawling over our beds. There were 6 casualties that night, an already horrendous number to have for company.

Believe me when I say that they smell awful. I had Entomology class. It is a signature smell, and I will know if they have been around things like clothes 'cause they leave their weak but unmistakable stink behind. Our labs smelled dreadful when it was cockroaches on the dissecting pan, and I had to rely on my groupmate for the dissections. I didn't want to have to touch the things. People who have studied them actually like them and respect them. I've seen some such people on National Geographic. They may have to forgive me for begging to differ. I fear I may never be dissuaded from my irrational (?) dislike for their pet creatures.

The sight of them...the sight of them is discomfiting, even just in video footage and pictures. If I see one in my room that seems unafraid or unaffected by my presence, I instantly see it as a cocky gesture on its part. Because if I didn't see it, I would never know it was in my room. And I will never know what parts of my room it trailed its hairy legs on. There it was on my door once, poised in its repulsive moment of glory before I picked up a slipper and squashed its ego inside out. But sometimes, I do miss and the vermin scurries away, or worse, hides further in the room and I had to wait for it to come out again. It happened one late night when I was in high school. Needless to say, I didn't get enough sleep.

Once I was at some friends' business joint where there was a nearby a sewer opening. There they were, issuing forth from that damned hole and scurrying in that frenzied way that is theirs. Before anyone could say "Squash that bug!", some of the lot were flying and landing on the walls, and on my friend who was sitting outside. I saw everything from indoors, fortunately, the window and door being made of glass. However, I had endured a similar experience fairly recently.

I thought it was a less ominous insect that landed on my neck. Nevertheless, my hand instantly shot up to brush it away. I cannot forget the feelings of disgust and helplessness that surged through me the moment I touched it and realized what truly happened. It shouldn't happen to anyone who hates it or to just plain anyone, but well, shiznit happens. Good thing my friend brought disinfectant alcohol with her. I'm more than thankful nothing as horrible as it landing on my face or squirming into my clothes has happened, and I sincerely supplicate to my God that neither instance ever does.

Despite my irrational (?) loathing, I do know a few things about cockroaches. I absorb trivia about them from time to time. I've long since learned that there is no sure-fire way to exterminate the planet of them. There really are just a few species of the 3500 that belong to their kind that are considered pests. I know that there are others apart from the disgusting household kind that are, um, less disgusting. I've seen some of them in the wild during a field trip for that Entomology class. The kind I've seen are actually much more gentle-looking and not as menacing as our household Duprees, but that was probably because they were a smaller species. I am yet to meet a Madagascan hissing one, though. That would be interesting. But I thank my God once more that the common ones don't hiss at all. In the meantime, I should try to be less resentful of the unsettling (and somewhat poisonous) household centipede. They are reportedly the most effective predators of the pests at home.

I have no idealistic and unrealistic hopes of seeing a cockroach-free world. They are indeed a hardy species (check out info at Wikipedia), and I seriously believe that they will "inherit the earth", together with bacteria and the rest of the evolution-hardy bunch, once we humans fulfill our long-doomed extinction. They were here long before we came, and they will be here after we are gone. Survival of the fittest is just what it is. I will give the cockroaches that much, but I will not have them infesting or even just occasionally stealing into my house, into my room, or any such other place I consider my sanctuary. They are definitely not welcome!

P.S. What is the scientific term for fear of cockroaches?

Take Dr. Phil's Test

Dysthymia

2006-10-05T13:21:00.000+08:00

Mental health professionals use the term dysthymia (dis-THIGH-me-ah) to refer to a low-level drone of depression that lasts for at least two years in adults or one year in children and teens. While not as crippling as major depression, its persistent hold can keep you from feeling good and can intrude upon your work, school, and social life.

If you suffer from dysthymia, more often than not you feel depressed during most of the day. You may carry out daily responsibilities, but much of the zest is gone from your life. Your depressed mood doesn’t lift for more than two months at a time, and you also have at least two of the following symptoms:

overeating or loss of appetite
insomnia or sleeping too much
tiredness or lack of energy
low self-esteem
trouble concentrating or making decisions
hopelessness.

Blogger Bother

2006-10-05T12:50:00.000+08:00

Hmmm....Reaally tempting. The new Blogger in Beta entices with a new variety of customization options. Among the mouth-watering conveniences are saying goodbye to HTML know-how for template modification, Permission settings for viewing my blog, fresh templates (how delectable), and instant publishing! The glitches? Minor and negligible...Or so I think.

So...Should I switch? How do I decide? Oooohhhh, heavy.

But Jessica Zafra switched to WordPress though. What's in WordPress, I wonder...

Babel Babble

2006-10-05T11:56:00.000+08:00

l'amore danneggia ed altro cliched la merda

Ora ho avuto abbastanza circa. Ho appena circa preso più di posso mantenere. Sono malato di questo scherzo di un rapporto che mi sono entrato in. Non potrebbe essere identificato niente altro. È uno scherzo totale. Lo scherzo è apparentemente su me. Sono quello chi ha continuato credere quella qualcosa che va dare. Che ci saranno cambiamenti. Ahahahaha. Risulta quei email di formaggio circa gli uomini che continuo a ricevere da quel tipo di Carter ero di destra. Non credi mai che stiate andando cambiare quello che siete con. O che la persona sta andando cambiare per voi. E che cosa stavo facendo stavo convincendosi a danneggiare nel convincersi in quell'illusione. Ero disperato credere che potrei cambiare la persona in modo che potessi compiere le mie fantasie romantiche circa che cosa ho immaginato l'amore per essere. La cosa con l'idealismo a volte è che vi dimenticate di rimettere i vostri piedi sulla terra. Nel mondo etereo degli ideali nuotate nella bellezza e nella perfezione infinite che non desiderate lasciate per andare. Ed indovino che ho desiderato vivere in quel mondo immaginario. Ammetto che sono affascinato dai fairytales e regni ed elves e wizards magici. Ed ho applicato quel desiderio nell'amore e così qui sono, un dreamer tragico che la lecca ferite che non sembrano smettere di sanguinare. sanguinarsi alla morte? Forse non. Ma sono costretto a avventurarsi più ulteriormente nel mio mondo illusorio, in cui nessun artiglio macchiato della realtà potrebbe raggiungerlo, dove la bellezza non si non sbiad mai, dove la felicità è abbondante quanto il nettare in un prato infinito dei fiori profumati. Sono mightily spaventoso di vivere in realtà ancora, che cosa con la miei mente idealistic ed occhi parziali. Sono impaurito che potrei andare insano o diventare cinico e freddo. Non desidero nessuno. Ma ho avuto abbastanza di essere danneggiato. Sono in modo da hurt.

amor lastimar y otro cliched mierda

Ahora he tenido alrededor bastante. Tengo apenas sobre tomado más que puedo guardar. Soy enfermo de esta broma de una relación que me he conseguido en. No podría ser etiquetada cualquier cosa otro. Es una broma total. La broma está en mí al parecer. Soy el quién fue encendido a creer ese algo que iba a dar. Que habrá cambios. Ahahahaha. Resulta esos email caseosos sobre hombres que guardo el recibir de ese individuo de Carretero tenía razón. Nunca crea que usted va a cambiar el que usted está con. O que la persona va a cambiar para usted. Y qué hacía me conseguía lastimar en el convencimiento en esa ilusión. Era desesperado creer que podría cambiar a la persona de modo que pudiera satisfacer mis fantasías románticas sobre lo que imaginaba amor para ser. La cosa con idealismo es a veces que usted se olvida de poner sus pies detrás en la tierra. En el mundo etéreo de ideales usted nada en la belleza y la perfección sin fin que usted no desea deja para ir. Y conjeturo que deseé vivir en ese mundo imaginario. Admito que los fairytales me fascino y los reinos y los duendes y los magos mágicos. Y apliqué ese deseo en amor, y tan aquí estoy, un soñador trágico que la lame las heridas que no se parecen parar el sangrar. ¿sangrarme a la muerte? Quizás no. Pero a me obligan que aventure más lejos en mi mundo ilusorio, donde ninguna garra manchada de la realidad podría alcanzarme, donde nunca se descolora la belleza, donde está tan abundante la felicidad como el néctar en un prado sin fin de flores perfumadas. Soy poderosamente temeroso de vivir en realidad otra vez, qué con mi mente idealista y ojos parciales. Estoy asustado que puede ser que vaya insano o haga cínico y frío. No deseo ni unos ni otros. Pero he tenido bastante de estar lastimado. Soy así que daño.

Ahh, life...

2006-09-15T11:26:00.000+08:00

When I think about it, I've known a number of people in my life. Others may have known a much bigger number, but my number is big enough so that it becomes difficult to catch up with each one. And there are a lot that I would ideally want to catch up with on a daily basis.

I've noticed that I'm a different person to each group that I've become acquainted with, and that it's impossible to unite these different versions of me at one time, so that I can become just one person to all of them. I've imagined, that were all these people to meet with me at the center, what they would think.

But well, I think that it's still the same me they will be talking to. Even if I may act differently around the different groups, these groups will still find some common threads that lead to the same person.
***

There's this girl on my friends list that I think is so lucky. I would like to envy her, but there's just no point at being so. I wouldn't go anywhere near where she's at if I do. I would gain nothing in being envious. This girl reminds me of the things that I would have loved to pursue, had I the resources I need. I would have loved to be up-to-date with owning the latest gadgets, the latest books, the latest everything I'm interested in. That would be like having every material want at least, almost at my every whim. And that isn't bad, anymore. In fact, that's already great. It's just that I would not like to spend above which I find reasonable in the financial circumstances I think I'm in. I would have loved to watch the Incubus concert in Manila last 2004, for example. It was well within geographical reach but well above financial means.

That girl is in the U.S. now, and she already saw Chelsea FC when they came there. That only means that Europe isn't too far away for her now, which is also one of her aspirations. And the greatest of mine.

We don't talk much, this girl. We're only acquaintances at best. But somehow I'm drawn to check regularly on her account, see what she's been up to. And, I just think, she's having a ball where she is. Where I am, I have to put in effort to deserve that description about my life. But really, it's okay. There's nothing I could do. One could change his stars I guess, but it's not going to be as enjoyable as how William Thatcher (A Knight's Tale) did it.

P.S. Does this make me a stalker? Even if I'm not lesbian??? *cringe*

Sunday Reprieve

2006-09-03T12:54:00.000+08:00

Just woke up after a kind of long night. I woke up to an empty house (well, my mum talked to me when I was still in bed, but let's just count that out for a more dramatic post, shall we), and that's fine really. Lately, there's not much great company to look forward to with the people in the house, so it's kind of a relief. A sad relief. After all, no one really wants that kind of thing going on in one's established comfort zone. It kind of removes the comfort, and you're left with...well, zone.

But nevertheless, I welcome the silence. I've always enjoyed being alone in the house, having it all to myself. The weather's great today, not too humid or too hot. Our garden's been looking nice, and we have two little dogs that I can't get enough of playing with.

It's Sunday, and people are supposedly out and about in the malls, in one way or another making church the initial excuse to be out. I better prefer this sort of therapeutic silence going on around me right now, over the hustle and bustle and bright lights of shopping malls. I feel deep here. I am encouraged to think randomly and to write, whereas, I only encourage my human materialistic tendencies when I'm wandering in SM or Lim Ket Kai.

I feel content... with what I have, with who I am, even though I have yet to take my bath. I'm not exactly happy, or devoid of problems and worries. This is just sort of a respite, from the world and from reality, yet while still being in reality. It's not something anyone can immediately comprehend, but no one has to really. I am not even trying to understand what this is I am in, but merely letting the sensations, the experience flow through. It's like a lazy-day-in-a-hammock kind of feeling, you know? Or maybe I'm just going slightly beyond my lunch hour.

2006-09-03T12:30:00.000+08:00

We're never gonna survive unless.....We get a little crazy.

The Art of Imperfect Hair

2006-08-31T11:44:00.000+08:00

Somebody recently sent this old picture of me (click for bigger image) to another person through MMS. The receiver, who's seen me a few times, had to wonder who it was for a bit, before realizing it was me. What made me momentarily unrecognizable? She said it was because my hair was neatly in place, and well, it was often the opposite in person...Hahaha.

Everybody would love to have great, perfect-for-her/him hair. I don't think anybody would pass up that chance if God suddenly offered them better locks than the one they already have (given that there is no catch, but just a plain, uncomplicated, honest-to-goodness offer) --I'd daresay even the ones with seemingly flawless hair. Well, I would. I'd trade my hair up for something much low maintenance than it is and forever will be. You know, perhaps something like that of Korean women typically seen in these, um, Korean movies, like that Sassy Girl's hair. Or perhaps, a totally wavy one, which is sometimes worn by Penelope Cruz or naturally found on many Latina heads.

My hair has a veeery fine texture. It's not totally straight nor totally wavy, and mostly on the limp end, being not thick at all. It easily gets damaged by just a little wear and tear. A slight wind would already mess up 20 minutes' (or even an entire day's) worth of painstaking, loving combing. So I can't really help it if not a strand is in place on my head. Or if I decide to start combing only when I'm walking my way out of the subdivision (Hahahaha, yep). I mean, it wouldn't really make a difference, believe me. I've checked. And I wouldn't want to spend on products and treatments that I'm not sure what would do to my hair. I've not at all jumped on the hair straightening/relaxing/rebonding bandwagon for fear of ending up with stiff, coarse hair not unlike a broom. Oh, you never know if price even justifies quality. Trial and error would be too horrifying an option that leads to more dismal ones: a) chop off your 5-year old hair; b) just simply chop off your hair; c) get a skinhead.

So basically, maintaining this hair type that I have would take a lot of fuss. And being the kind of person that doesn't like to fuss too much on hair, it's positively hairsplitting. There are certain situations where I don't like to be in the middle --in playing soccer and with hair type. Why couldn't I have been on the straighter or wavier end of the hair spectrum? You know? Either way, I'd comb less and not worry. Who worries with straight hair? With wavy hair, I have an excuse as to why it's askew *cough*. With my type of hair though.... Ugh. Fussy.

However, enough of the fuss. You're just gonna hafta to rein in your innate desire to behold perfection around me and my hair. It'll be the way it is, and this'll be the way I decide to (not) fix it, until I find what best solution I can approve for it. The best coiffures I might be seen with would probably only be on dress-up occasions, heat-styled days and on days that luck has struck. Hahahaha. As for this picture, hmm...It seems to be enjoying positive critique so far...Perhaps I'll spread it around... Ahahahaha.

Photo credit: Me. I did it.

Name

2006-08-29T16:29:00.001+08:00

I picked this up from a Friendster bulletin posted by a friend, and I couldn't help getting convinced that it's right about me... See how it keeps repeating itself? It's like a broken record, I can almost not stand it. Oh, stop it now... I can't be that damn good.....Hahahaha.

L- You live to have fun.
E- Damn good kisser.
S- Easy to fall in love with
L- You live to have fun.
E- Damn good kisser.
Y- One of the best gfs anyone could ask for.
A- You like to drink.
N- You are absolutely beautiful.
N- You are absolutely beautiful. --->Enough already, I believe you.... lol
E- Damn good kisser.

Letter Guide:
A- You like to drink.
B- You like people.
C- You're wild and crazy.
D- You have one of the best personalities ever.
E- Damn good kisser.
F- People adore you.
G- You never let people tell you what to do.
H- You have a very good personality and looks.
I- You have a fine ass
J- Everyone loves you.
K- You are really silly.
L- You live to have fun.
M- Success comes easily to you.
N- You are absolutely beautiful
O- You are one of the best in bed.
P- You are popular with all types of people.
Q- You are a hypocrite.
R- Fuckin sexy!!
S- Easy to fall in love with
T- You're loyal to those you love.
U- You really like to chill.
V- You are not judgemental.
W- You are very broad minded.
X- You never let people tell you what to do.
Y- One of the best bfs/gfs anyone could ask for.
Z- Always ready.

Politically Flavored (May not suit your taste)

2006-08-28T16:14:00.000+08:00

Consider the specified posts from the following blogs:

Liquid-Packets ("Why We Are Not Out in the Streets")
Musings of a Muse ("SSSSSShhhhhhhhh" to "Virus in My Brain")

Reading posts like the ones in those blogs above always make me think. I think about the superfluousness of my life --and even my posts --that I go a-frolicking when perhaps I should be doing something more substantial or be part of something pivotal. My life is shallow really, and merely pleasure-driven, when I set it beside the lives these people live, dedicating them to a worthy cause as seeking for the country's emancipation from the pitfalls of Third-World status. And I get compelled to sit in a silent corner in my mind and ponder once more on this complicated and twisted political mess that is my country and the forces that are constantly shaping and shifting it. I wonder who are really on the side of the people and true economic progress and who are really just self-indulgent and power-hungry, and who are the fronts and the pawns and who are the true players and movers in this never-ending game. I had been narrow-minded and perhaps somewhat naive to believe the one side of a probably polygonal conundrum.

I was immersed in that world for a while, and I slowly became convinced that theirs is the righteous cause. It all seemed to fit in a logical way, the pieces of information I was given. I learned to despise capitalism and its extreme manifestation, imperialism. It seemed true that my country is a slave of the capitalists, a mere pawn in the cutthroat world of competitive free trade. It is exploited of its resources ever so cheaply and made to buy the finished products at a far more expensive price, under the protection of the label "imported". At the microcosm, the laborers and other low-class workers are being paid too disproportionately to the toil that they wield; the masses, deprived of the most basic rights that the government is mandated to provide and protect. I was far from completing the puzzle, but the pieces were making logical sense as they were handed to me.

But my single-minded determination to get to the ominous bottom of the matter was to be cut short. I was shown a different angle of the story, perhaps not as polemic as the other, but one that still made me pull my head back out of the crimson waters and consider. It seemed to proclaim a far more encompassing reality: that not everyone can ever amass wealth in colossal proportions and live in comfort, that in this world, there will endure an economic hierarchy, an affluence gradient, which will preserve the words "rich" and "poor" indefinitely.

However, that does not bid bad news apparently, since anyone, anyone can and by all means transcend their economic situation if they put in the necessary effort. For had not a lot of people started from nothing and came out millionaires, or if not, at least living more comfortably in the end? I took a look at certain prominent figures in society with such backgrounds and at the backgrounds of some of the people around me. I looked at my own family, and sure enough, we had similarly undergone the hardships of striving for a more economically secure life.

One supposed reason why there exists an economic low class, why there are impoverished people, is these pe:ople's attitude towards their state of living. Some blame fate or leave it up to fate for their luck to change. Some make unwise and lazy decisions, for instance, selling their land in order to grasp a fleeting sum of money in a more effortless manner, instead of breaking sweat to till and eke out a small, but sustainable and sustaining living. Then there are those who incite their ambitions and attraction to the modern life that they flee their relatively secure but uneventful lives in the countryside and venture into the unfamiliar cities and end up broke and penniless.

Ambition and attitude are the culprits of poverty, I was told, not the government. The government, flawed as it is, does its job nevertheless, serving the people's interests to the best of its imperfect abilities. It does reach out to the farthest recesses of the islands to build schools and roads and bridges. Not the best quality education it could give, but gives education it does. I was told off to stop focusing on the negative aspects and give more credit to the little good things that do happen. The repatriation of foreign workers from Lebanon, is a good thing, is it not? The media may present unbiased information, but it is a big business enterprise, nevertheless. Bad news seems to have higher viewer stats, and they capitalize on those figures for profit. That could be one of the main reasons why one mostly hears of bad news, not because it's all that ever happens in the world, but because it is what the media plays up, however subtly or unsubtly.

And there's some more, quite disturbing this time. Activism and countryside rebellion against the government is a front, another perspective says. It is a front used by certain opposition figures to stir unrest or to unsettle the government for their political agendas. Where do these activists obtain their funds? Where do the rebels get their guns? The common people, too, are said to be also using activists' cause for their personal intentions. Say a guy named Procupio is complaining of being landless, so he joins demonstrations demanding for apportionment of land to certain aggrieved citizens. But then, Procupio was allotted a piece of land, so he goes home, happy. When his activist friends invite him to another street rally for the cause, Procupio was not to be seen again.

I, exposed to be truly ignorant of the real issues by this time, have no answers. I am at a loss now as to who is really on the honorable end. And I may try, but I know I can never tap into the core and find out the truth for myself. What little I may know is likely to be already wrapped in layer upon layer upon layer of distortions of the truth. It has come to the point where I don't anymore know what to believe. Is democratic socialism really the solution? Should we move to change the economic system of the country? Or should we learn to cooperate with the government this time than continue to go against it?

I do not discount the idea that capitalism contributes to poverty. It probably does. All Third World countries are testaments to that. All Third World countries are exploits of the world's richest and most vicious capitalists. Capitalism encourages some degree of freedom in the acquisition of wealth, but it tends to eliminate the small-time players out of the picture. Democratic socialism rewards each according to his labor and control the state's assets and wealth. That's about what I know about it. Will it transcend communism, which just about failed to hold in most countries that established it (North Korea, an existing exception)? I have yet to be enlightened.

There is some credence to cooperating with the government to achieve progress, but what if that government is really not aiming for that and is really just submitting to its capitalist masters and pinching from the coffers while putting up a circus of endeavoring to steer the country economically forward?

It's basically a this-or-that situation, and then some. But in the end, what all of us really want is to see this country haul itself out of its miserable economic hellhole. In the face of ongoing and extensive brain drain and rampant colonial mentality, I still believe that nationalism and patriotism has not totally died in the hearts of the people. We merely want a substantial reason or a handful to be proud of the country. And no, boxing conquests and international beauty pageant crowns are NOT substantial reasons to feel nationalistic pride. These victors and queens are merely citizens or else descended from the bloodline and have not at all achieved anything more substantial that can contribute to national progress.

No. True national pride emanates from the transcendence of national crises. The end of Third-World status. The end of poverty. The end of illiteracy and unemployment. The reign of justice. The successful conservation of natural resources. The extensive encroachment of modern technology. These are the true victories that should stir national pride. Celebrating anything lesser in the name of national pride is farcical.

There is one more achievement that should be on the list: true national unity. We have been tolerating our national discord for too long a time. We have allowed our mentalities to become as archipelagic as our islands. It's not a bad idea to try working together for once, even if it's just to get a feel for once of what unity is like. Then things might get a little easier. Then it might become a lighter and happier burden to toil for progress. Then we can be truly proud of ourselves and of this country. It's a big dream, but if we share it in manageable pieces, it just might become reality.

Have A Cup

2006-08-28T12:22:00.000+08:00

I've always felt a happy, intense rush whenever I drank coffee. Yup. It's not even sip, it's downright guzzling it down. I've been dictated by my head a few times to at least savor the aroma, or the taste of it. But well, you know, I've only been drinking instant coffee. It's not like it's some special brew. But no matter, though. When the coffee's had time to circulate in my system, I get a feeling of power, that I can do anything I set my mind on. And my mind gets filled with ideas about a lot of things. Ideas, ideas, ideas. I feel a lot of things, too. I'm ecstatic, then nostalgic. I feel every song I hear, and I'm basically an undernourished bundle of energy while it lasts.

But that was the upside, of course. Finally, when the power rush begins to subside, I get a little bit too jittery than is personally comfortable. My heart beats still faster, but now heavier, too, this time, as if forcibly making its presence felt. Fingers uncontrollably fidgety, feet jiggling irrepressibly, are what becomes my composure. Not to mention the inset of the diuretic effect that's characteristic in coffee drinking (good thing, really, that the toilet's just a few steps away). And when all the caffeine has been flushed out, all that's left of me is a drained mass of flesh, tired, glum, and sapped of spirit.

Still, when the morning comes, I crave for yet another cup. But the trip has led me to say that you're really only truly happy when you have the energy. Or rather, I have come to agree to a statement that says so.

Raging Against....

2006-08-18T21:06:00.000+08:00

I'm rebelling.... And I know it. I am angry, much as I don't really want to be. I've been exercising much of my newfound patience for people, stretching it when I thought I couldn't it stretch it that far anymore. Maybe I actually became tired of being angry all my life in an unconscious part of my head. Maybe I realized that bursting out every time you felt like it just was unbecoming of me, or of anyone who deep inside just really wants to be a good person, to achieve a true peace with his/her brethren and with him/herself. But then.....I get provoked to the point of going insane. Lately. And for what? Because I wanted to create my own path, move away (or just stray a bit, really) from under their wing. I am not being ungrateful. I have more than my whole life to be grateful for to them. I only wanted to try things out for myself. But instead of being supportive, they put me down and criticize every little thing --no, more like blowing up every little thing that they could find something wrong with! I totally see where they're coming from. And I am ready to go into an explanation to make them understand. But that's just the point there. They do not. Will not. Cannot. Why can't they? I admit, at some point, I was being selfish. Because what they really want is to see me off a relatively promising path in life. I know that. And I want to accomplish that for them. And I think I will. I sincerely don't want them to be anymore worrying about me. But they must understand that pushing me to do something I'm not ready to partake in will only lead to mine and their disappointment. I know my capabilities, and I know how much time I need to have. They need to be understanding sometimes. Sometimes, it feels like they're running a boot camp. Everything they want to happen should get done. No buts. No ifs. No consideration of the person's feelings or state of mind, whatsoever. Plus the fact that I've felt rejected, or at least, less wanted, by them. By any of them. Perhaps they don't know that. All they see is me seemingly aloof, indifferent, uncaring. When the truth is, I care a damn lot. Even when I don't want to, didn't have to. Even more than each of their "favorites". There could only be so many instances that I would have liked to run away, get away from this place, this situation. It's so stifling. Stuffier than the eternal fires of the theological hell might make it to be. And it's so obvious they're playing favorites, no matter what they say about being equally loved and judged or whatever. And I'm the one left in the middle, not wanted....not really. I'm fine with it now. I've accepted that I'm nobody's favorite. Got that. What I will not accept is that I'm being unfairly treated. I have a strong proud streak, and it's partly their doing that made me this way. And that pride is demanding that I at least be given the same privileges as the rest of us. I can live with being the odd one out. I'm okay with odd. I'm a nonconformist, anyway. Or trying to be. Trying to be, 'cause I've been blessed to be chicken shit, notwithstanding. 'Cause sometimes, I really only feign to be brave, when I'm already dying to collapse and cry. Because there's no one to collapse into, no arms outstretched, nobody to have my back. All I have is myself. Just like now. I don't want to keep this anger a second longer. But I....I feel I have to. For me, I believe. It's just that I don't want to feel I'm weak anymore. When you are weak, you are strong? Ha ha. Run that to me again, wouldja please.

Okay... I'll think about it. I am not yet cold-hearted.

Night Over Day (repost/edit)

2006-08-18T18:14:00.000+08:00

Reposted from my Friendster blog

"Your soul don't go very far in the daylight 'cos it stops where you can see.... The nighttime is better. It stretches your soul right out to the stars. And that...is a very long way. " (Anna)

"The daylight is for the brain and the senses. The darkness is for the heart and the wits." (Old Woody)

-excerpts from "Mister God, This Is Anna"

I share these very statements. The words that I could only feel about the night.... I don't feel the potential danger that lurks in the fold of darkness and discomfits the hearts of my parents.... what I do feel is a profound sense of being one with the world at this hour. There is something wonderful about daytime and daylight....but still there is something more enthralling to the night than could be fathomed....A hidden mystery, a spellbinding delight... An enchantment that is irresistible, but fades into quiescence when the sky softens into another day...

The night brings to life all mystical stories that would seem preposterous in daylight... Faeries, unicorns, hobbits, the fair elves of Rivendell, Harry Potter, magic, witchcraft, mermaids, princesses who dance into the night till they bore holes into their shoes... My imagination spins with these stories... And I am that starry-eyed child again... Pure, untainted, dreaming only of these mythical places and how I might go there... I long to stick my nose into a magic book again and not care about anything else...

Sad, how I had to strip off my shimmering fairy dress and stash away my wand...Sad how my pretty cottage by the enchanted woods had to be demolished, the woods flattened to barren dirt, to make way for this modern international empire called Growing Up... Only the night safekeeps the golden key to those fading memories... I am a night owl for a reason....I thrive under an endless canopy of stars, hoping to revel once more in that world that I so loved, beyond anything and everything.

Sing Along Ta Bai (Let's Sing Along)

2006-07-31T22:32:00.000+08:00

looking in your eyes
i see a paradise
this world that i found
is too good to be true

standing here beside you
want so much to give you
this love in my heart
that im feeling for you

let them say we're crazy
i don't care about that
put your hand in my hand, baby
don't ever look back

let the world around us
just fall apart
baby we can make it if we're heart to heart

and we can build this dream together
standing strong forever
nothing's gonna stop us now
and if this world runs out of lovers
we'll still have each other
nothing's gonna stop us
nothing's gonna stop us now

i'm so glad i found you
i'm not gonna lose you
whatever it takes
i will stay here with you
take you to the good times
see you through the bad times
whatever it takes is what i'm gonna do

let them say we're crazy
what do they know
put your arms around me, baby
don't ever let go

let the world around us
just fall apart
baby we can make it if we're heart to heart

and we can build this dream together
standing strong forever
nothing's gonna stop us now
and if this world runs out of lovers
we'll still have each other
nothing's gonna stop us
nothing's gonna stop us now

all that i need is you
all that i'll ever need

all that i want to do
is hold you forever
ever and ever

Aaahhh... You gotta love the 80's and early 90's... The music produced in this era are the real classics. Can't help but love them all. And you gotta love the lyrics on this one. Talks about love and togetherness in its most ideal. Fighting for the love no matter what, through the good and through the shit and grime. It's an I'll-be-there-for-you-and-you'll-be-there-for-me kind of thing. It's like it's S.O.P. You don't have to tell me to be there for you. I will be there for you. That one goes without saying. And so what if people say we're crazy?? What do they know? I don't care about what they say. As long as you're here beside me, as long as I'm in your arms ... nothing else will matte. And if the world falls apart, we'll still have each other.... It's like they know it like they've always known it, that they will have each other even if their world crumbles around them.. Their love is strong, and it will see them through the worst times, together. I will be here for you. I will do anything for you..... How charming. And heartwarming. How.... ideal.

I like ideal. Reality is so much drearier.

Just so you know

2006-07-22T18:57:00.000+08:00

Just so you know, I'm taking a liking to this new template... I think it's... nice.

Just so you know.

A Lengthy Contemplation

2006-07-22T14:34:00.000+08:00

If anyone would like to give me the slightest chance to choose what I want most to do with my life, right now, I would like to take up Creative Writing at the University of the Philippines, if you please. It doesn't even have to be in Dilliman. UP Mindanao will already be satisfactory. I reeeaaallly want to learn how to write, and write well. I don't know. It's been bugging me ever since I was shown the possibility of choosing what to do with my life. That was during my first year as a fourth-year student in my current course. And now it's bugging me every waking moment.

I'm already in supersenior status, faced yet again with the situation to tackle the one remaining subject that's kept me from holding a graduation diploma - that is, if I do decide to embark again. Yes, I know. It's one measly subject. A one-unit subject at that. What the hey! I would have already been legally out of school long ago, you might say. Yeah, you or someone else might. I'm not entirely sure what the matter is... I only know that I can't seem to think of the easiest topic that I can experiment on and get college over with. I'm also lazy, perhaps. Perhaps... Or perhaps, this just isn't the right course for me, after all. I mean, I passed the rest of the subjects, but that was because I had friends and batchmates to go through the whole ordeal with. And now that I'm alone... I have no one to run to or keep me going now. Now, the final test of application of all the subjects taken up (Bio Thesis) has become a huge road block.

Biology is interesting, to be honest. I loved what I've learned - what I did learn, hehehe. And I wouldn't have met this fun bunch of people - classmates and teachers - and I wouldn't have had the fun that I had if it weren't for Biology. But still... I am no good with the "kuti" procedures. No patience, no enthusiasm to get them right whatsoever. When I had to do the "kuti" stuff, I suffered.

They were the most boring, most pleasureless moments in my life. I was so close to falling asleep or cutting class during those moments. I wouldn't even have cringed if the professor glared at me and gave me a degrading reprimand. I would have silently thanked him for breaking the boredom and waking me up. (Yes, a "him" came to mind. He's the scariest of them all when he's mad/unconvinced with your answer/skeptical you learned anything, and his 4th-year subjects were the most esoteric, thus, the most boring. I honestly didn't learn anything. There's nothing in my head from either Physio class.)

I'm supposed to be doing something about this thesis subject during this very time period (1st sem), in order to catch up with the graduating batch next sem, but.... here I am. Online and doing nothing helpful. Supposed to be working, too, at that.

But like I said earlier, give me the smallest chance to get myself to U.P. and I'll pounce on it. I deeply want to nurture this long-ignored desire of writing. I have been met with the practical questions about what future writing's going to hold for me, or where to get the money for tuition and lodging and books and such whenever I broached the subject... But you can't force me to do what I have no passion for doing, either.

The biggest example right now, is this web editing job. Do you see what I'm doing? This is me spending what time I could've spent to reach my job quota for doing something else, something less contributory. All I could maintain thinking of when I place my fingers on the keyboard is writing..... writing..... writing.

How would I fare if the professor made us write a short story? A novella? Or some literary piece? Thoughts like that. I'd like to learn how to write poems or a play script, try working on one literary form under a certain theme. Things like that are likely to happen, because someone I know took up that very subject (her written works and some such are with me) and I downloaded the entire prospectus from the U.P. Min web site.

And lately I've been thinking about actually writing to the school's Admissions department and inquire. I am more than ready for this. I don't want to wait for an opportunity or when I'm more financially secure. It may never come. I want to act now. And there are other perks. My enthusiasm to play is dying here, and Davao is one football-active place. I might get an opportunity to rekindle it back to life there. Wouldn't that be a deal? My dream and my two passions all in one place. I only have to bring my spikes.

And it's not like I'm not coming back, anyway. How many years will it just be? Two? Three? And Davao is just 8 hours away, max. It's a long, ugly bus ride, but it's near enough. I can say that I can handle this.

Something -er, someone - is keeping my two feet here, though. And he's making me seriously hesitate. He makes me think so hard about going through with this. With my family, I know, somehow, by just pushing the right buttons, I might have a chance to get what I want. But it is different with this one. Entirely.

Because it's a "we", one must think in terms of "we", or at least with the other in mind. Wanting to pursue one's dream would be thinking only of one's own life's direction. We have our own separate lives, too, right. We can certainly continue to exist without each other and still also be happy, perhaps. But we would not like to lead lives separately, of course, if it could be helped. So I am also then at a point from which I must decide another path I could tread: we or me. Could the "me" path intersect the "we" path somewhere down the road? Or will the "me" path forge an altogether different, totally new life for me once I'm on it? Or is it more complex than just these two paths?

O, di ba. It certainly makes you sit down and think. If it's the real thing you'd want to keep it. But then, now is not the time to settle. Now is the time in which to try to reach to your potentials and enrich your life. Something has to give or be made to make this one work. And it will not be easy. There will be nothing easy about it. Whatever I may come down to, there will be difficult choices to face shortly up ahead.

I've written about this before and I've said some things, but then, this desire must be stronger than I initially estimated it to be. Maybe, it's my life's calling. My Personal Legend. My one true responsibility in this world. I am not certain that if I heed it, the rest of my life will follow. I do not know if everything comes out all right in the end. I do not know if the people I want to be in my life will be in it if I leave all familiarity and choose the path I haven't traveled. I know that the unknown and the uncertain should be faced bravely and as best one can, but I don't know if I should go looking for them. I only know that I cannot be content with my life yet, with so little in it. I have not yet enriched my life in the way and with the things I want it to be filled with.

And that's where destiny comes in. I believe that destiny also has a share of control with life's reins. Destiny handles the things you can't forever control or have no control over. If something or someone is meant to be in your life, destiny will put it or that person back in the circuit. I believe that. But I don't believe that just so I can have a reason to do what I want to do. I'm stating it because it's true for me. Because, there is a force working alongside you as you make decisions. Perhaps, it's why, even though if things in life happen because you did something to make them happen, some things still happen without your help or your permission.

So leave it all to destiny, hmm..... it's only so easy to speak about it, than to be actually in the situation when you have to let go...

Well, well, well.... That's my answer, isn't it? Let go and let destiny take it from there... There's something transcendental about destiny, isn't there? Divine, even. It might very well be God, one manifestation of his presence in this world.

I know another purpose for dreams now. They are motivations to seek for more, for fulfillment, for a more content later life, if one is destined to reach that age. They build and/or strengthen character, because if you follow them, you will inevitably be faced with unfamiliar situations that give you two options: sink or swim. Walk away and be cowardly, or press on and come out a much braver person. And maybe that's why God put them in every person he created. And that makes for a more interesting world, actually. Combinations of possibilities, that with every combination is a different outcome, a different world that ensues. And results vary greatly, widely, perhaps even endlessly. But somehow, from these possible combinations, there's one that made the world what it is now... And maybe, it's part of the grand design that the world is following right now...

(Yes, I believe in a "grand design", too. If you believe in destiny, you would, inevitably.)

I don't know if I'm exactly being intelligible right now. It's complicated. It's better illustrated with an algebraic/statistical lesson that I remember but can't quite execute (You know, permutations?). It's more complicated than I am capable of putting into understandable words right now, but somehow, I find it comprehensible. Amazing... God is. Infinitely amazing, infinitely the smartest, infinitely the most insightful, infinitely everything.

But.......back to what this is all about. I can see better where I can go, which paths I can tread. And I know my options, and it's possible for a Plan B and maybe a Plan C, in just-in-case scenarios... Basta... Whatever... I have a clearer idea of what to do now. But everything only works at the right time and while there is still time. If I want what I said I want, I have to get moving.

ok, it's ochre...

2006-07-18T16:57:00.000+08:00

hmm... it doesn't look bad i think.
the violet looks good on it.

the green looks fine...i think...

might be a keeper... let's just see...

Corny?

2006-07-18T16:19:00.000+08:00

Stumbled upon these... (Um, I got distracted from work...)

Save the whales. Collect the whole set.

A day without sunshine is like, night.

On the other hand, you have different fingers.

I just got lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory.

99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

I feel like I'm diagonally parked in a parallel universe.

Honk if you love peace and quiet.

Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm. --> insightful...hmm...

A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

Change is inevitable, except from vending machines.

Get a new car for your spouse. It'll be a great trade!

Plan to be spontaneous tomorrow.

Always try to be modest, and be proud of it!

If you think nobody cares, try missing a couple of payments.

How many of you believe in telekinesis? Raise my hand...

I almost had a psychic boyfriend, but he left me before we met.

OK, so what's the speed of dark?

If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.

When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

Everyone has a photographic memory. Some just don't have film.

If Barbie is so popular, why do you have to buy her friends?

Who is General Failure and why is he reading my hard disk?

I used to have an open mind but my brains kept falling out.

I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder.

Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?

What happens if you get scared half to death twice?

an admirer admiring Admiration

2006-07-18T11:14:00.000+08:00

Admiration
Could you move in slow motion?
Everything goes by so fast
Just slow down a little
Save the best part for last

You speak in riddles
Your intentions turn me on
I'm yours forever
Will you love me when I'm gone?

You're an unfenced fire
Over walls we travel
It's you I admire
My living example

Your eyes are an undiscovered ocean far away
Any minute now keeping
Both poets and priests at bay
Don't get ahead of me
Could we just this once see eye to eye?
What you offer has me
Ask me how it feels to vie

You're an unfenced fire
Over walls we travel
It's you I admire
My living example

It's a photograph discovered a decade after
It's a cannon blast disguised as a firecracker
It's enough to bring a brick wall to its knees
And sing, please

Could you move in slow motion?
Everything goes by so fast
Just slow down a little
Save the best part for last

You're an unfenced fire
Over walls we travel
It's you I admire
My living example

Why...

Why...

Why, why, why.....

Why is this man so enchanting! So talented, so gifted, so... he's so many things! If his lyrics aren't beautiful, his voice is enough so, that you'll like the song (and him!) - for a while, at the very least. This is entirely speaking on my behalf, but Brandon Boyd is perhaps the most talented musical artist out there. Beyond compare. He can draw, he composes, he plays one instrument at least, he has a lovely, lovely voice, and he's heavenly, just heavenly. A celestial combination of talents equals an irresistible, godly being..... Ahh, I'm exagerrating, but all of these attributes makes one want to be the subject of his love songs, or, more ambitiously, the object of his affection. Because - one should listen closer (or DL the lyrics) - he sounds like he's in love and not at all afraid to let the world know about it. Guys should do that more often - be more expressive, I mean. Anyway, this is the latest piece of music I've heard from the band, "Admiration". The lyrics, the voice, the music..... sigh. It's a musical gem. But! Feel free to differ. It's just a personal opinion. Just don't try convincing me to think otherwise. Hahahaha.

usahay....ikaw ra na (reposted)

2006-07-16T17:47:00.000+08:00

usahay maka ingon ka
sa kalibutan ga inusara
nga wala'y mabalaka
kung ma unsa ka na

ang maong pahalipay (sus kaluoy)
tingog ra intawon ni brandon boyd
nga hapit na mapagaw
sa sige mong paminaw

kay hain man ang mga tawo
anaa sa imong kinabuhi kuno
ga limod, dili makit-an
busa ikaw hilak nalang

grabe gyud ning kalipay
walay pagka kanunay
dili mahuptan sa pag hinay-hinay
dili makit-an sa pag baklay-baklay

hantod nalang usa ka adlaw
samtang sako ikaw
sa internet naglinamlam
naa kay nakaplagan

may nagpatimbaya
usa ka duol nga amiga
hay! makapahimuot gayod!
ang kalaay mo gi abog

sunod mag bantay-bantay
ayaw dayon pasubo kay
hinungdan sa pagmahay
usahay...ikaw ra man diay

Hats Down and Hands Ready for Clapping

2006-07-16T17:44:00.000+08:00

If I had the slightest doubt about Roger Federer's being World No. 1, it's gone now.

I just read an interview with him on his loss to Rafael Nadal in the Monte Carlo Masters (clay), and it's not hard to see how single-minded he is about winning all his matches, most especially Grand Slam titles. And from that, you are almost correct to assume that he's the kind of athlete who knows that he's very good and is confident he can come back from a loss to his nemesis, beat him to a pulp, and never look back. He seems to only become smarter with every loss and gets to know his opponents with every shot and effort they put in. His mental framework is robotic. It's jaw-dropping, and you cannot help but respect but also dislike the man.

He has, ever since I've come to show interest in his tennis, impressed on me an arrogance that only comes from being self-opinioned. I'm almost certain he is cocky - but elegant, classy cocky. He really has class, in his playing style, in his bearing. Even his reactions to the happenings on court says classy. Nadal's yells and bicep-bunching tells of his youth; Baghdatis' are just extensions of his ever-cheerful disposition; Marat Safin's exude his quiet confidence; James Blake's hint of overconfidence; and those of the rest just say they're glad they got points (but I guess I'm being partial, so...).

Federer's most recent win over Nadal in Wimbledon only showed his determination to not only stay on top of everyone else, but also to reduce the possibilities of losing at all, slim as they already are, as I see it. And they are only at their widest with Nadal. Nadal can, in all certainty, beat Federer. Given a few improvements and more focus, his lefty play and his reservoir of sheer on-court brilliance, he can defeat all-too-perfect Federer. But I pin it to his youth or to that child-like quality that he seems to exude, why it would be more difficult for him. More difficult, because Federer is already hard to beat, as it is.

When he knows he'll be playing Nadal, he practices with a lefty coach. He implied in that Monte Carlo interview that he treats his matches with Nadal merely as venues for improving his game, to beat Nadal and the rest of them lined up behind him. He says the more he plays Nadal, the easier it becomes to defeat him. Or maybe, that's just how he wanted it to look, so as to make that loss less disappointing.

Either way, Federer is one hard-core competitor. Competitive to the max. But happily, Nadal is not so far behind in the ranking. Federer cannot sit as kingly as he would have liked. And I like that. I like the idea that someone makes Federer fidget, and tennis becomes more exciting as that happens. I would agree that there is at last, a true rivalry in Open-Era tennis. And I will try to follow the happenings as they come to see if Federer retains the throne, or if eventually, Nadal - or someone else, for that matter - finally dislodges him. And for how long. Whatever may happen, all my hats are already laid down and my hands are ready for clapping. Not since the World Cup has sports entertainment been so exciting. This is history in the making, and I will be watching when it unfolds.

proof of neurosis

2006-07-11T17:49:00.000+08:00

First of all, I must be crazy to be putting this in here. It's exxxtreeeemely personal. But I don't know, I feel it such a waste to be sending it to oblivion. Maybe I'm vain. Maybe I want to be understood. To be misunderstood is a suffering...

So here goes. (Names removed to retain some semblance of privacy)

Mon 07/10/06

I am neurotic. This morning, I had an attack of extreme pessimism, if there's such a thing. It felt as if I was leading a pointless, disappointing and unfulfilled existence. It was as if I merely existed all this time just to feel insecure and depressed and unhappy in my life. My head was a mess, I couldn't come up with one rational thought. All I kept thinking about was that I was alone because my friends don't want me around, that I was inadequate, especially in comparison with this girl -and I thought I was over that. And even though he was there, I felt I was still by myself, because he may just be leading me on and will probably leave me one day, if not soon. He would be better without me, anyway. And he's got lots of friends and girls at his feet...he wouldn't miss a thing like me. I am alone and am meant to be alone.
That was how deep my unresolved confidence issues could go and how small I could make me feel. And I only found this out today. They've been there for most of my life, hovering in my subconscious, and resurfacing every now and then. When I stepped into college, i lost some of the intensity of these feelings. Confidence came with being able to have my way and getting to do things as I pleased. Yet some things were never done the right way still -or, what was the right way in my twisted and tainted opinion -that I never totally overcame insecurities. I really thought I was well on the way towards moving on from the issue with this girl, but it must have been all on a theoretical level. Last night was the first-ever venue for application, and with all certainty I failed on that first test. I guess I'll need a few more similar instances to really gauge where I am on the issue. (So technically, I'm still troubled, though not as much.)
I also realize that my insecurities are really that deep-seated and will take some years of work and an establishment of confidence in a trusted someone (i.e., finding a "best friend" -cliched and so true) to zap them. They're that embedded that they can tap into my emotions and make an instant mess out of me. During that pessimism attack, I actually seriously considered finding a real shrink to examine my head. Looking back on that, it's still not a bad -or crazy - idea. I do need to achieve a broader, fuller understanding of my mental framework, and a psychologist is the best professional bet to do that. It is also a step towards that coveted peace of mind.
I do have a better appreciation and acceptance of myself at present. I already have the power to say that things are what they are to me because this is simply who I am. This is how I see things and so this is how I do them. But there are still confusing moments when I question what I really want, or when I am still undecided about things. These moments are anxiety provocateurs, and I would like to stop feeling distressed. I want to be certain of who I am, of what I want. I am not yet worried about where I'm going with my life, but when I start to be, I'd like to have just that one complication and not be additionally burdened with identity and self-esteem issues. I'd like to be behind the wheel and completely in control for once. Not being steered around at the whim of my jumbled emotions.

wahehe time

2006-07-07T13:21:00.000+08:00

whoa! you might say. i'm not usually caught dead with such girly colors, and now you find this weblog is pink!
in my defense.... nah, i'm not going to justify why i chose this color for my blog. i like it. just like that. no further
fuss over things as colors. but i am a purple purson (person), and maybe this is the closest i can get to purple. no,
blue won't do. right now, i am under the opinion that it's kind of masculine. lime green i like, but there's someone
i know who got it first. i don't know, there could be a dozen others who are using this template, too, but right now i'm
keeping it. until i learn how to change the background at least...

The Idealism of Dreams and The Wet Blanket-ism of Reality

2006-07-07T09:03:00.000+08:00

I've long dreamed of going to faraway, romantic places. No! Not you're preconceived notions of romantic. By romantic, I meant beautiful and filled with adventure and mysterious and such. I've dreamt of going to the wonderful place that is Europe. I am attracted to its history, culture and the sheer beauty of the places there. My dreams are really simple. I don't dream of wealth (though I may want to be economically comfortable, but the key to that is contentment), or fame, or of accomplishing something great. These are well beyond my personal capabilities and imagination. I cannot imagine how I can achieve them. I only ambition to go to spectacular places, on an adventurous journey, to have experiences that are far more fulfilling, heartwarming, and life-changing. Experiences that will not make me look at the world in the same way again...(Of course, these are conceived in my head presumptively to be the good kind of experiences. Bad ones can also be life-changing.) And I am of the opinion that Europe is where I'll find what I'm looking for. I am so idealistic and everything sounds all good....

And then reality sets in.

First of all, how will I get there? I will need lots and lots of cash. Money I've never even held, much more seen, in all my life. To get there, live there and back. If I plan to live there permanently, it takes much more. I'd have to work, get an immigrant visa, and all other prerequisites of modern-day immigration and G8-country living. I will have to work there to earn a living and sustain my pleasure-seeking or adventure-seeking. Everything I want will not be immediately acquired and achieved. By the time I will have enough I will have become old and world-weary and have lost my initial idealism and childish excitement. Reality is such a wet blanket, ain't it?

And there are the what ifs.

What if I was wrong about my notions about Europe? What if all its grandeur that were so vividly flashed on television --the very perpetrator of my wild ambition-- weren't as real as I thought them to be, or yet, already gone, consumed by modernization? What if I do get there, but end up disappointed --or worse, disappointed and unable to get out because I am under some work contract or something else that's similarly binding? Now wouldn't that be horrible, exactly the opposite of what I was seeking. Di ba? Awful, awful. Among other things that I could say about this, I'd say that even if life wasn't as forward and as comfortable before as it could be now, it was still nicer to live in the days of old. Dreams were much easier to realize that time ago, dreams like mine. Dreams like mine aren't for this era. They are best buried, set aside or sent back to a time when they were still feasible. Old dreams like what I have cannot survive in this modern world, where everything is practical than ideal, realistic than romantic. Modern days call for modern dreams. David Beckham lived his dream because it can be classified as a modern dream. To become a professional footballer, to play for what team he wants to play for, it is well within the boundaries of "modern". And good for him to have lived "the dream".

And maybe I should also quit reading Paulo Coelho. His books are also fuel for my imagination and for wanting to fly to Europe. I've learned to love la España, partly because of him --another reason to take the Euro trip.

Without my dreams, I have no other reason for going out of the country. What am I going to do here, then? Help clean up the environment? Demand to restore the rights and privileges that the government deprives the poor and the powerless of? Am I to ground myself on reality now? Do only what's realistic and practical? Am I to discourage the children that I may bear from dreaming because sometimes they don't come true or are just unreachable? To not reach your dream is sad. But to not dream or to stop others from dreaming is horrible. Living without dreams, it's like living in a grayscale world, after all its default color information was discarded. Drab and much more depressing than "squatters' areas" in full color.

So I decide to keep on dreaming. It may be foolish, people may call me foolish and always up in the clouds, but perhaps it's the only way to stay sane and happy, at least in part. Foundng yourself in reality will eventually strip you of your humanity. You might become successful, reach the pinnacles of fame, or stand on top your mountain of gold in doing that, but these are not guarantees of happiness and of a fulfilled life. I do seek happiness and fulfillment, and I cannot see myself finding them in these modern and worldly accomplishments. And perhaps I can always work slowly towards reaching my dreams. I may not be able to get myself there, but I might come close. Perhaps to Palawan? Close enough. One of the most pristine and most beautiful beaches in the Philippines will do. Perhaps I can take up Nursing and get the hell outta here. Hahaha! Not! Or maybe not, that is. I don't know. I might relent to the pressure my family is putting on me to take that damn course. But yes, I will continue to dream and keep my idealism alive. Idealism is a refuge when you get weary of this world, a solace in the midst of the mundane, the motivation to stay above mediocrity. It is what brings us closer to perfection. It is a drive to stay alive, keep on living purposefully. It is Paulo Coelho who said that every man's purpose --the only purpose --in this world, is to fulfill one's Personal Legend, that which you want most in life. I'm sorry, Mr. Coelho, for even thinking of getting rid of you from my life. I will need your wisdom every now and then.

i'm serious...

2006-06-30T09:39:00.000+08:00

i'm serious....seriously thinking of deleting this blog. i have almost enough blogs to be
represented by the fingers of one hand. that number is superfluous. you only
need one. you don't even have to have one. and i've been having some problems
with this one of late. so....is this goodbye?

what about the written products of your mind over the past few years?

perhaps i should just leave it idle until blogger overflows with blogs that it has to
decide to delete those idle blogs lying around their backyard. would that be better?

bahala na. i'll just leave this idle. if you think i will still be updating this, think again.
i might not. perhaps not anymore. an 85% chance of that happening.

reminder to self

2006-05-16T12:49:00.000+08:00

the nomad universe

next time...

random thoughts

2006-05-16T10:33:00.000+08:00

should've been posted last 03 mar 2006 2:35 p,m.

maybe i need someone who can go the journey with me when i'm experiencing the profound. it would be terribly disappointing to find that the person would just give you question marks in his eyes when you attempt to share the depths fathomed by your thoughts on your mental trip. it's like the person didn't even try to be with you. or maybe i'm just getting this all wrong.

................

contrary to the previous, it seems my mind is on vacation these days. i just feel very happy-go-lucky lately that to sit on the mat and meditate doesn't sound very appealing. i don't feel like thinking at all. it's just slightly disturbing that while everyone around seems to be thinking deeply about their lives, i'm right here feeling impulsive and indulgent in whatever shallow delights i can get my hands on. and i'm broke at that. well, life does seem more delightful and enjoyable when you haven't a penny to your name. you learn to appreciate little things more. yesterday, margo and i scraped up what little we had to enjoy a small meal of chorizo and puso. we were able to buy 3 sets. we had one of each and split the last set between us. actually, mader's ten pesos afforded me this small treat. and then she bought a bottle of water for us aron dili mi matuk-an. it was a tiny thing, really, but i felt warm all over. being broke can be tough (walay pangpalit load, for example), but i'm beginning to see that it is in that state of living where you get to realize what things are really of value in life. and it's not money.

.................

i'm somewhat at a tangent in my life at the moment, and i will only feel bad about myself if i examine my life right now. it's not NOT facing reality, 'cause i like to think about myself to be a realistic person. maybe, well let's just say, that i do not yet have the angle from which to decide the direction that i would like my life to head towards. i want to have all the cake i can eat while it is offered ( i will not have my youth forever. i cannot play football as ably and as well as i possibly can now after i cross the thirtyysomething line. right now, i am at my prime). what it is though, is not thinking so prudently about one's future. but i don't want to have that, either. so i'm thinking of ways to remedy the damage i've inadvertently done to my job hiring prospects (deliberately generated F marks in the TOR doesn't make for an immediate hiring upon application).

................

i've decided to submit to my parents' constant persuasion to take up SpEd. i vigorously resisted initially, but i decided to surrender to their wishes (and i thought i was about reaching absolute independence). there is this desire to redeem myself in their eyes, and i have a personal desire to make my school records a shining proof of excellence. i want to see how far and how well i can do academically; i have not been exercising the discipline that it takes to do that in my years in college. and for an extra, juicy little plus, i can still get to play football for the Unigames --hopefully.
i'm trying to rearrange my life right now to get what i want and to give to my parents what they want of me. i WILL do this. i've never laid such specific plans for my life before. i never really appreciated planning one's life; i like it spontaneous. but i will be really disappointed with myself if i allow me to deviate from the first real decisions i've made for my life.

naked

2006-05-05T19:01:00.000+08:00

i read an estranged friend's blog ('cause no matter what
happened, i still value the friendship i had with her and
if nothing else, she blogs quite well) and i got to
thinking about the personal changes i've gone
through over the years. she posted this song about a
miss independent who fell in love...or something like
that (it's at the end of this post). that friend was relating
to the song in her post, saying how it was so her at the
moment. i could sort of relate to the lyrics of that song
myself, since i once assumed that miss independent,
miss i-dont-need-anyone front, and still do most times.
we kind of agreed in that desire to be miss independent
for as long as it could be possibly embraced. as for myself,
there are only so many things and possibilities in life that i so
want to pursue and explore, to see where i would be led to, to
find out to what places i can go. i am so in love with writing
and i feel so the same about europe. i want to take up what
writing courses there are in UP. and it has to be UP. the
european culture in my eyes is so very attractive, not to mention
the breathless excitement in seeing the places and relics of its
rich history. there are so many things i want to learn about so
many things. i am drawn towards so many interests and i want
to pursue them all. and in fulfilling them, i've always pictured
me being on my own, being the miss independent that i was talking about.

BUT (kay naa man gyuy apan ang tanan)... would you forego
everything, EVERYTHING... everything else you hold dear for
that SOMEONE you hold dear in your heart? because, whatever
compromises you may come up with, there will always loom the fact
that you'll have to go away at some point to pursue your dreams
and leave that person behind. because it cannot always be that
the person can always be with you. after all, that person has his/her
own dreams to want to go after. it is a guillotine over your head,
maybe not to end your life, but to forever alter everything in it.
yeah, it sounds rather washed out, i know. but well, it's kind of
like football. it's a different world when you're just on the side lines
watching and when you're actually on the pitch playing the game.
it's not the same when you're just talking about love while not
actually being in love. i think i do love this guy that i've been with
since adtong wala pa mi mga buot. and i think he loves me back.
and i know that him and my dreams were long ago placed in paths forked
away from each other. the catch is quite obvious. choose one, leave one
behind. no hitting two or more birds with one stone. the soul yearns for the
fulfillment both of dreams and love. i certainly would like to pursue my dreams.
and i certainly dream about seeing the world and being wisened in many things
about it. but i would like to share them with someone. but from the many
someones i can choose from to share them with, it all boils down to this one
person. dreams are less meaningful when you are not with the ONE. i can dump
miss self-sufficient, miss keep-your-distance in the basket for this one person.
there is fear hidden in that statement somewhere, but the courage outsizes it.
the walls have long ago been cracked and torn down. defenses are at a bare
minimum. i'm naked! love has stripped me down. and here's the final blow that
might otherwise raise the alarm in someone else's ears: maybe, maybe, i just
might give up my dreams if it all means being with this one person.

Miss Independent

Miss independent
Miss self-sufficient
Miss keep your distance, mmmm

Miss unafraid
Miss out of my way
Miss don't let a man interfere, no

Miss on her own
Miss almost grown
Miss never let a man help her off her throne

So, by keeping her heart protected
She'll never, ever feel rejected
Little miss apprehensive
Said ooh, she fell in love

(Chorus)
What is this feeling taking over?
Thinking no one could open the door
Surprise, it's time, to feel what's real
What happened to miss independent's no longer need to be defensive?
Goodbye, old you, when love, is true

(Verse 2)
Misguided heart
Miss play it smart
Miss if you wanna use that line, you better not start, no

But she miscalculated
She didn't wanna end up jaded
And this miss decided not to miss out on true love

So, by changing a misconception
She went in a new direction
And found inside, she felt a connection
She fell in love

(Bridge)
When miss independent walked away
No time for love that came her way
She looked in the mirror and thought today
What happened to miss no longer afraid?
It took some time for her to see
How beautiful love could truly be
No more talk of why can't that be me
I'm so glad I've finally seen

(errr, sometimes, depends on something that can only be satisfactorily
explained by people in the know with computers, the clip i embedded
in the previous post does not show up....grrrr! anyway, just letting
whoever's concerned know. :))

standards

2006-03-25T20:32:00.000+08:00

a long-time friend had asked me this question, and it got me to thinking:
what do i really want in a guy?

hahaha. yes, it is kind of a chick topic, but....seeing as my romantic life is
kind of a mess, i guess it is relevant then. i couldn't totally describe my
qualifications quite satisfactorily with words. everything is always so much
better while in the mind. you don't need to have the words for them but you
can really, really understand what they are. so, anyway, i thought i could leave
a graphic illustration of a guy that tickles my fancy. and so, i give you Howl....
(do tell if you happen to know a guy like him, hehehehe).

byotehful

2005-12-21T19:06:00.000+08:00

love at first sight. there couldn't be any other fitter description.
that's how i felt when i first watched hayao miyazaki's howl's moving castle.
and i'm still feeling the tingles. kilig man gud. hehehe. i feel high,
like i'm on cloud 9. 7th heaven ba kaha. never mind you that
i'm being a bit emotional. the movie is just beautiful. B-E-A-Utiful!
byoteeehhhfooool. Watch it.

gwapo si howl!

another of miyazaki's animations is spirited away, which i also love.
yes, it's also love. one of my most prized possessions. byoteeehhfoooool!!!!

the mexican/eating words

2005-10-27T08:41:00.000+08:00

(after believing in the script for a time, it was just a
motion picture made to make money after all. gahd, i could
be so gullible...)

one should really be careful of one's words for one
might eat them one day.

and i'm almost full of words i have so mindlessly
strewn around in here.

something's changed. ambot ba unsa. ambot again
if it can be fixed. it's not the same.

and i wonder now if my own feelings were merely
deceiving me all this time. are feelings really deceptive?
or do you just think that because you can never really
think when all you wanted to do was feel? or are you the
one deceiving yourself believing that all what you're
feeling is true, mutual?

why just couldn't feelings be allowed to prevail? or why
couldn't loving be rational so that you won't have to wake
up the next day feeling so embarrassed for exposing yourself?
or even if you don't feel that way at all, at least the other won't.

is that how love really is after all? being in pain? 'cause no matter
how one tries to be happy with that person, something always
comes up to bust your bubble. may it be reluctance to share oneself,
or the looming possibility of a one-way street. and it would be shitty
to be in that situation, one is inclined to think. if this is how love is
like, if this is how it feels like, then i envy those who aren't loving.

i'm tired of being the only one who seems to care about this all the
time. sumo!

and even if that stupid movie said that there is no giving up,
that there is no saying i've had enough in love, i'm about to. i want to.
'cause maybe i was wrong in saying what this really is. and that's why
i'm eating words i'm not even hungry for.

crab

2005-08-17T10:01:00.000+08:00

[would someone please kill the music! i'm sick of mymp blasting in
my ears. it's not enough to have the voice. you've also got to have
the talent for writing songs you can call your own. it's just a pity in
my book to become famous from singing other people's songs just
because of a syrupy voice. it also becomes VERY irritating after a
while. to mymp fans, tough luck. i'm feeling unapologetic right now.]

today, i'm looking through rose-colored glasses. i'm so pissed off,
i'm seeing RED. i'm fed up. just fed up. with everything, everyone.
what is so alluring about vanity that people go through pains
obliging it every day? EVERY day. they forsake friends, family, boyfriends,
girlfriends just to be thought as someone GRAND. gahd. i bet vanity
is at work behind the world's problems. vain people are selfish, too.
i see them the moment i step out of my room, when i step into school,
and most especially whenever i get to go to the malls. anywhere.
everywhere. it's overwhelming. and today i'm full up with all this bull's
crap.

call me crabby and cross. yeah, and you're self-absorbed.

somewhere in between

2005-07-25T14:58:00.000+08:00

i can look beyond, and i can look behind. but i can barely bear to look
at what is in front of me, what's right in my face.

i am currently doing a thesis, i did mention before. and still, i am
afraid that i might not be able to pull it off. there are just so many
worries that pop into my head every time i try to write... they tell me to
look closer and be cautious with every step because i might make a
wrong move and sentence the tiny beginnings of my thesis to oblivion.

to make things shorter, i am afraid to mess up and not graduate.

i need someone's help. someone who's been here before.

all i can see is what could be life after college. or what it has been before.
i cannot visualize how to work through my situation.

and there are only so many distractions that can divide your focus.
but i guess, what i have to do is picture how i'm going to get through this rut
to actually get out of it.

stating it is so simple. easier said than done. and that's what i hate.

i don't feel any relieved at all at having said this. haaaaaaay...

unloading

2005-06-22T17:43:00.000+08:00

this is my favorite text color and my preferred font. (wala lang.)

i've read certain things today, which gave me cascades of thoughts
to unfold in my already cramped mind. but let me try...

blogs have become quite rampant (well, in my limited experience)
ever since friendster started hosting free blogs for its members. and
just for now, i can thank them for doing so 'cause i got to read some
people's thoughts. some people i know.

i very recently read this post from an estranged friend. i kind of know
what she was talking about, because...i just do. never mind you why.
i don't want to dwell too much on the details. it's sort of classified
information, after all, in a way. it's nothing big. there's just nowhere
else to unload this information to without having to make a big deal
out of it. even people you think you can say everything to can sometimes
not afford to give a listening and attentive ear.

anyway, i just know what she was talking about and i want to say
something about it --but what? they say never give advice unless it's
solicited or it's alife-and-death situation. i want to say something 'cause
i know she's in a confusing place, and i don't want her to keep hearing
only one point of view...'cause that's what's happening. i also want her
to decide for herself, and not only absorb what the people around her
think; i strongly suspect that that's the case. but well....here i am. this is
like a letter for no one. and it probablywill be.

and there's this good friend's blog that i also just skimmed......she's a
very busy person, and with truly a lot of things going for her. some part
of me envies her, for the way things are going in her life and for the
manner that she handles it all. she knows how to do it. that's just about
how i can articulate it. in many ways, she manages her life better than
mine. but i might probably envy her most for the way she deals with
people and takes care of her friends. i get scared and excited until my
emotions get the best of me. but she takes it all in stride. calmly, smoothly.
hmm. whenEVER can i be master of my emotions..
****

on a totally different note, i must lessen using my time on the internet
for leisure. i can always, always update my pages later. but i only have one (1)
year to finally get my thesis right and consequently, my graduation much more
tangible. and already, the clock has begun ticking away. i must learn to focus
on the more important matters at hand. these are trying times once more, and
i must not falter. there's only one path to follow for me now, and that's to march
down the graduation aisle. this is for my mom who's highly expecting it and keeping
her hopes up still; for my dad who's patiently working his butt off to see our
graduations and our expenses through at the same time; and for me, who's been
presented once more with this challenge and is wanting to be on top of it in the end.

i cannot fail.

cinderella song

2005-06-14T01:54:00.000+08:00

i'll probably embarrass myself with what i'm about to write.
my only justification is, it's just too wonderful to hide.

i can right now say, with my head high, bashful but unashamed,
that i'm in love. probably not the over-the-fence, world-series
kind of thing --better. 'cause it isn't the kilig stuff that's causing
all these pretty flutters in my middle. this is...different.
spectacularly different.

it's peaceful. full, but not feeling the weight. it's just there,
infinitely between the stomach and the chest...

he may not be physically with me, but i really don't need
him around to feel this way. nevertheless, it's with him that
i most feel home.

i start regretting the past less, but also feel disinclined to see the future more. i just
want to live and cherish one day at a time. and that's only because i never want it to end.

and everyone seems to be rightfully where they are, and it seems
hard to hate anyone, and it becomes easier to be content. if people
felt this way more often, the world could be a much better place.

what would have seemed too ideal to be possible, is now very tangible.

no, it's not perfect. it doesn't have to be.

uow,i<3u.

reposts

2005-05-28T20:35:00.000+08:00

"balance. :("

[reposted from friendster bulletin]
a scribble from emma. i always enjoy reading her pieces.

i am a walking contradiction... the surface and the content not meeting, not matching...never agreeing with each other. how many times has this happened? how many bruises have i nurtured? how many stinging emotions have i rationalized?there are days when id give my unique little pinky up in return for a clearer disposition...one that conforms with the rest of humanity...one which the world can recognize and praise any given day. but the kind of sicko i am, despite the inevitable weakness in some aspects of my demeanor, overpowers the kind of sane person i should be. some say saner means stronger. but i am strong in an entirely different way. and it has proved me for the past twenty years of my existence, that when life feels like turning the tables and twisting one's faith, one's strengths can be one's weakness...and vice versa.and whether you falter and fall, or fly and soar...scars of all sorts, of all depths, of all intensity, always show up.how ironic is irony? that i should love and hate and hate and love all at the same time.. how painful should pain be? that two and a half years is not enough for itty-bitty scratches in my heart to heal, and rising like a phoenix being reborn from the ashes is mediocre before the gods.how unfair should injustice be? that i should carry the burden of loving someone forever..and miss the convenience of moving on.i laugh to cover up the cries of my bossom, bellowing with uncertainty and confusion. i snicker and roll my eyes, so no one sees how disgusted and disgruntled i am with myself. i pretend i dont care, so no one knows that in the deepest niches and folds of my youth and my naivete...i still do...i still do.when it comes to silly things like love and life, experience never makes anyone an expert..it only makes one more prone and more accepting to reality. so i shrug at these silly things, close my eyes, take a deep, deep breath, and engrave what i know......that today i am a walking contradiction... and i need to stumble some more... just to find balance. =/

"the sunny side of the street"

[reposted from kring ]
i can sort of relate to sentence #5...basta...

More and more people these days tend to forget the very reason they exist. They become more android-like than human, and it's really sad. I know how sad that feels, considering that i have been through a pre-programmed state--following routine and stuff like that.
I guess there are a few blessed souls who wake up every morning singing in their heads songs of summer (to the tune of "i'm walking on sunshine", maybe?). On the other hand, there are those who cook up in their heads pathetic excuses just to stay in bed (LBM, a flat tire, migraine... the list goes on, depending on your status).
But like everything else in existence, routine is as transient as the word "temporary" could get! (geez, take it from the adage "temporary insanity")...
hmmm...writer's block... excuse me for a while......it may be a little longer than that...

according to them... (edit)

2005-05-13T21:26:00.000+08:00

You Belong in London

A little old fashioned, and a little modern.
A little traditional, and a little bit punk rock.
A unique woman like you needs a city that offers everything.
No wonder you and London will get along so well.
What City Do You Belong in? Take This Quiz :-)
Find the Love of Your Life (and More Love Quizzes) at Your New Romance.

there was supposed to be a bit more stuff than this, but when i viewed this again, i got embarrassed of what i posted. so everything else was scrapped. and so, wysiwyg. actually, the above is the most interesting discovery i've had when i took those quizzes. i've long dreamed of setting foot in europe (where to first is inconsequential, but i must visit the entire continent), and imagine how elated i was to find that i belong in london. a sign of my destiny, maybe? well, here's hoping.

(the quiz was just probably designed to entertain, but what the heck. i'll try my luck with most anything for europe!)

to my avid detractors (more biting edit)

2005-05-08T01:42:00.000+08:00

i don't exactly know what you're so pissed at me for,
maybe because you're too chicken sh1t to come into
the open, lest you find yourself on the erroneous side
of the issue, perhaps?

however, thank you for so freely expressing how you feel
about me by leaving your hate comments on my blog. i
appreciate your taking the time to type in my blog address
on your browser and post away, though i'm sorry to say
that i have to mostly delete them, because, well,they're
not exactly very pleasant to encounter time and again.
i'm sure you'd feel the same if you were in my aggrieved
little shoes. but i will try my hardest to stifle the resentment
i feel on my part and keep your undesirable and unsolicited
comments.

for all the inapt, unfitting, inapplicable and ill-chosen
obscenities that you hurl against me, i do still wish to
learn who you are and even eager to meet you in person.
i would want to settle this unfortunate matter, whatever
it may be, so that i may learn how i've wronged you if i
ever factually did. i would want to learn what it is that
causes you to curse me as much as you do.

in the meantime, you may have to wallow and remain there
in that frightful hole you must be hiding in right now, suffocating
in the anger that you're harboring. i would hate
for anyone to suffer because of me, but i would more hate myself to
suffer because of you, you who hide behind the convenience
of anonymity.

before i end this, i do hope that you realize that i am talking to
you, and that i'm actually doing this to end these feelings
of enmity that you feel for me and those that i'm likewise beginning
to feel for you. (that's a lot of hoping there). otherwise it's
hopeless. and unluckily, you will just continue launching this aimless
campaign in the futile hope of denigrating me. yes, it is aimless and
futile, much as i might wish for your success. well? are you brave
enough to "unmask yourself"?

a profound moment in my autism

2005-03-25T00:26:00.000+08:00

when i view my friends' pages (friendster, what else?),
i can't help but think about being soooo, waaaay behind in a
lot of things. i'm this close to being envious of people i know
who've had the greatest privilege of being immersed in a hub
of information and intellectual stimulation. they know where
to go, what to find, where to consult, WHAT or WHO to consult.
i'm especially talking about UP. UP, in my belief (i'd be mightily
glad if someone proves this is but an irrational state of mind.
better yet, if i can go there myself), is the heart of it all, the pod
of everything you know you'd appreciate knowing. and in case
how i'm feeling is still vague to you, i'm bordering on tearing
my hair out with this feeling of colossal helplessness.
yes, everything is described with "big" today. that's how i'm
particularly feeling. why else would someone feel like bursting
if she can contain it all?

it's just that i want to know everything. EVERYTHING. is that
too much to ask? to look at the world and understand and fathom
what may be abstract and incomprehensible to everyone else,
wouldn't that be something?

a lot of things keep me from doing so. my priorities, for one.
being immersed in them takes off my focus from the big picture
that i would have liked to create for myself, from the accomplishments
that i would like to have under my belt.

then there's laziness and those inhibiting feelings of desperation
-if not depression. i considerably weaken in my determination
to do something when my feelings are in disarray. doesn't anyone's?
of course, you can't possibly be limited in your movements if you're
loaded to the rim. money makes a great many things within one's
reach. if you don't have the dough, well, too bad.

and did you know, the opportunity was in my hands. in these hands
that now document words of regret did hold the key to completely
different and many times broader horizons. but i was too naive
and young then to see my loss. i let it go. and now, it's 4 years too
late.

yes, one would philosophize that even if one door closes, a lot of
windows may be gaping open. and i guess, it is my fault in a way
that i'm behind. the diligence and initiative to pursue the things
that i would like to master rested on me, still rests on me. maybe
i never put that diligence and initiative to much good use. and
so here i am, drenched in my misery.

looking at my life now, i find i still have the years ahead of me
to pursue these things, granting God grants me a long enough life.
however, with the way things stand, nothing is quite that simple.
there are a lot of aspects and dimensions to consider. and once more,
the possibility of losing sight of my tall aspirations hovers ever so
tangibly. in the end, what my life becomes and where it ultimately
heads rests on the decision on which to give ultimate priority in
shaping my life. and again, that decision rests on me.

insomniac

2005-03-18T17:58:00.000+08:00

as they drift to sleep,
I rise from the holds of slumber...
their lights switch off;
my midnight candle starts to burn.
while in the day I'm lifeless,
during the night, I endure indefinitely.
my strength prolongs with ripening eventide
surpassing the day walkers.
their consciousness wanes but waxes mine,
in perfectly timed alternation,
as I remain to do my share of contemplation
--life's bestsellers.
mentally unique...
I thrive under a canopy of stars.

i wrote this poem sometime back last year, while i was in marikina.
it is a tribute to my nightly habit that i don't think i'll ever get to
shake myself of. i found it gathering virtual dust in my deviantart account.
hehe..... it's not a very good piece. but that's okay.

pretty girl -jon b

2005-03-18T17:52:00.000+08:00

Your lips, your smile, your tenderness, ooh baby
The way you walk, I can't resist your style
When I sleep at night, I dream of you, ooh baby
I wake up wet, thinking of you, ooh baby
How can a man like me
Convince a girl like you
To be his lover and one and only
How can I make you see
That I'm the one for you
And nobody does it like me

1-Hey pretty girl
Can I be your man tonight, baby?
Hey pretty mama
Can I sleep with you tonight?
Hey, pretty girl when you come to my room tonight
I'll make you come through the night

Your legs around my waist so tight
I'll slide down south to taste you right
You taste so good to me
How does a man like me
Seduce a girl like you
How can I make you my one and only
How can I make you scream
There's no one else for you'
And nobody does it like me, baby
(rpt 1)
There's a candle that's burning in my heart tonight
And the flame is full of my desire
And I can't help but desire you in my bed tonight
And I'll touch you in the places
Where no one's been before
And I'll kiss you in the places
Where men sometimes ignore
And I'll take you to a level
You've never felt before
And though you won't understand it
You'll cry and ask for more
(rpt 1)

i forgot to bring a diskette, so this (horny) song's posted here. Ü

2005-03-04T18:50:00.000+08:00

depressed.

there's supposed to be a lot more stuff between the first line and this, but....
it gets rather scary in this part of my brain, where i get psychological bout me.

so there's just a big gaping space instead to censor the easily creeped out. hehehe.

but this i will say: i don't even feel anything like a million sentimos right now.......
and so, a million-dollar-baby feeling is an illusion in this twisted, confusing current state of mind.

fuming

2005-02-27T13:08:00.000+08:00

i'm probably speaking for myself, but i'm somewhat infinitely irritated with people who imply something else about something you present to them. it's like, haha! i know why you're doing this! and more often than not, it turns out, they don't really know.
presumptions, presumptions.
and in this particular case i'm talking about, i don't know, he sounds somewhat...bitter towards me. and when i ask myself why, a dozen reasons are enumerated in my head. but i am speculating. i shouldn't be giving so much weight on haka-haka, because i realize that then i would be assuming truths -like him. and that's the last thing i want right now, to have anything in common with him. i don't hate him, but i presently dislike to be in his company.