Sober Gibberish

This is one of those nights that you wish didn't end, when you have someone to talk to and your attention is diverted into something that is not depressing. This is one of those nights when you badly needed a drink and you got what you wanted. This is one of those nights that when you end it, you did not expect it the way it did.

I am tipsy, not drunk, as I can still write with unwavering words.

This is one of those nights that you wish you had someone to share it with; one of those nights that you miss being with that person that you had in mind. This is one of those nights that you dread to be alone, as loneliness will come visit you.

I am quite sober and I'd give myself a 6 if I am to rate it from 1 to 10.

This is one of those nights that you wish you had the courage to not accept defeat, as the acceptance of everything that had happened is beginning to dawn on you. This is one of those nights that when you think about it, is just another same night with you.

I am having a major depressive episode, and the alcohol is not to blame.

This is one of those nights that you wish had come into your life sooner, because it if had, you will never have to endure this over and over again.

Sadly Written

I still miss you, you know. I miss you, too. Despite what you think about me, I miss you and your crazy attitude. Despite all the horrible things you've done to me and the terrible things I've done to you, missing you is still inevitable. The time we spent on each other has been reckless... reckless and stupid. We had shared so many things with each other, but the colossal thing that has been absent was the connection - inner connection. Our communication was so poor that we didn't realize that every problem we had was left tolerated, thus, unsolved.

Looking at your pictures makes me realize so many things: one, that you've given me a part of you. Two: I have done my best in giving you a part of me. Three: I've been brutally bitchy that I didn't give a flying fig about what I really felt for you. It was something that I really didn't know. I loved you, yes, but something was terribly missing that I haven't been able to grasp up until several months ago. I cannot love so wholeheartedly when a big part of me still lives in the past; in the past that was so precious to me that I couldn't let go of.

This is what you make of memories. Memories are like needles that pierce through your heart. Memories, like the beautiful things in between those menacingly painful ones that we have, are like dead stars in the night. Those are the memories that you don't know what to do: to remember or to forget. But remembering the times bring a lot of pain in my heart, as I am well aware that I've been such a great disappointment and heartbreak to you. This, this is what you make of memories. But then again, these memories have become a part of me, and while I think of the things that I need to do, I smile at the thought of your smiling eyes.

I am sorry. I am sorry for everything. I am sorry you've been victimized by my dysfunctional thinking. I am sorry that you've been a collateral damage towards my goal of becoming a better person. I owe you a lot... a fucking lot that when I think about you, I still cry.

I am sorry. I miss you, too, but I have to move on.

Wonderwall

The instances of me having a crush on someone as intense as this are so rare that I am at a loss for words and actions when such situations arise. As obnoxious as this may sound, I have always been the one to be pursued, or to be the person a guy would have a crush on. I've always had the power to say YES or even NO to someone; but it doesn't mean I have never been dumped. Oh, I have been - but that is water under the bridge now and I do not feel like talking about it because, really.. why would I even bother?

I am drawn to guys who seem to have something wrong with them. I am a magnet of douches and jerks who often turn out to have golden hearts inside them. The problem about me is that when I have seemed to tap that faucet of change in them, I get so bored that I need to get away. Or not. It just seemed like I have never been satisfied with what they could and could not give me. It felt like I was expecting them to save me, too.

If truth be told, I think that I always need to be saved, not from the vicious vices around, or from the people surrounding me, but I need to be saved from my uncanny way of thinking. I think too much, I over analyze things and sometimes I get so obsessive-compulsive that I need a steadying factor to keep me on my ground. There are also times that makes me wonder if I have ADHD or something because I have a problem maintaining my focus. I am a born multitasker, and I tend to multitask in every aspect of my life. Including having two relationships at once. I know, you're thinking "bitch", right? But I got over that. People change. For the better, yes.

In those years that I have been in a relationship, (hey, I've had only two serious relationships. I was never a player.) I have never quite thought that the day that I'd be imagining myself with another person would come. The idea of me swooning and waiting for some guy to notice me was so far-fetched that this makes me cringe. I'd like to think that I am a mature person, and admitting that I have a crush on someone is something that I'd be doing in a snap... But no. I could not do it. I could not have the courage to do it. I have this fear of rejection that I don't know if I'm putting up walls around me just so no one could enter. I have this idea that if I say it first, I would fucking lose my pride, my precious pride that I'm clinging onto as I feel like it's the only thing that is left of me now.

I want to save him. I want to know what is wrong with him and I want to make it right. At the same time, I long to be saved, too. I want to be saved. I want that someone to save me from myself; from the pits of self-destruction and my unending search for proximity. I want that someone to make me feel wanted and loved. I want him to make me feel like I am truly home and his arms are where I belong. I want to be with my happy self again, in love and free.

So if you are reading this, you know what to do.

Like, what the hell?

I am actually having a very bad time. Really bad. I mean, come on. Why don't other girls have allergies, especially on their legs, and I do? Why? I've seen an allergy specialist, whatever the hell you may call them, and her verdict? I am basically, basically (mental, if you ask me) allergic to every food that has preservatives in it. Like what the fuck? So I have to drink soya milk and all that shit, but because I am lactose intolerant, too, I don't get to enjoy milk as one would like to enjoy it. Ice cream, anyone?

Secondly, I am terribly vexed about the lack of things to do now that it is already semestral break. Hello? We've been on sembreak since the 6th of October and all I did was drink my heart out. I'm having beer abs already!! I wanna go to the gym but as a couch potato and lazy ass that I am, can't do it. . . Nahhh. I'll go buy a book.

Third, I am feeling so sick being on Facebook all day, but it's like a habit I cannot break. Social life, I mean, REAL social life, where are you??!

So friends, (and crush - oh, should I tell you I like you or should I just stay put and wait 'til you bang your head against the wall and realize you've got it bad for me?) if you're reading this....


TEXT ME! ASK ME THE FUCK OUT!!! OH GOD I'M DYING. HAHAHAHA.

TOODLES!

Wam bam, thank you

What can I do to make you love me?

What can I do to make you care?

What can I say to make you feel this?

What can I do to get you there?

-The Corrs, What Can I do?

Since I do not know how to effin extrapolate the ideas in my head, here go the bullets! Yes, bullets.

* Birthday celebration = one of the best ever

* Intellectual conversations = love them

* Feelingera girls who wear short shorts and sitting like sluts and stuff and all that shit = hate them

* Alcohol = sometimes it's really the answer

* Old friends = smiley face!

* Beer = miss you, beer!

* Coffee = books

* Being alone = could get used to this

* Pink = on repeat 

* Sem break = infinite boredom

I need a drag!

Hakuna Matata

It's good to be single when you're surrounded with good people. I haven't really felt better about having a non-existent love life with a special someone before... but things do really change and for once in my adult life, I felt really good about it. I met with my high school friends and it was something that I will always be thankful for. Even though I've been away for the past eight years, they welcomed me with open arms when I came home. :) I'm so really grateful. (They were my classmates in First Year HS.)

So naniniwala talaga ako, when God closes a door, He really opens a window. This time, the window is so big I didn't miss it! So, thank you friends! Thank you for all the laughs, for the unbiased advises, unbiased opinions, the brutally frank and honest conversations over beer or coffee and for being there when I need to be with people who can completely, utterly accept me despite my flaws and our differences. I love you! Here's to forever friendship! :)

I love you P!nk :)

At some point in our lives, we feel like everything is not going right. When times like those come, I always find myself listening to a particular song that would actually help me lift up my moods. From Lady Antebellum, to Taylor Swift, to Miley Cyrus (yes, you read it right); Motion City Soundtrack, Muse, Typecast, Amy Winehouse and even Lily Allen -- for the second time, P!nk saved me. Here goes my song for the moment.:)

Boredom discoveries

A few days left and I'm turning into a twenty-something girl (woman?) who refuses to adhere to the society's immature belief that girls like my age should go, get a life, and settle down. 

Settling down? What settling down? Right now, I'm in my first year of college, a long overdue one. I'm quite enjoying the freedom of being a college student, the perks and the stress that comes with it. I'm learning new things... quite a bit, literally.. But the most important thing of all? I'm rediscovering myself.

I am, painstakingly, enduring some twinges of regret here and there because I haven't done any of this enjoyable things before. I was maddeningly glued to a single thought that turned out to be so fuckingly retarded: getting there. If you know me, you know what I'm talking about. Here comes the but.

It's annoying, really... to be at this age without having the means to live my life to the fullest. It's annoying because I could've done this before, but then again, it's better late than never. Rediscovering myself? That's the juicy part. I discovered that I'm really into guys who have chinky eyes, and I'm damn consistent. I discovered that I could have a crush on someone without having to resort to pathetic little text messages that would give him the red flag. Lastly, I discovered that being friendzoned is the worst feeling ever. Hahaha!

Seriously, why am I even bothering to write all these? Well, birthday girl (that's me, having the birthday jitters and the fear of growing old, lol), you are so bored with the semestral break that you want to go kick ass outside.

On second thought... never mind.

Looking at things in a different way

If truth be told, I've never thought that I'd be, at least once in my life, a Lasallian. Lasallians had not-so-nice reputation in the province when I was in High School. When people started to use the word 'conyo', the first thing to cross my mind is the elite circle of Green Archers and Blue Eagles... and all the other people who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Being a typical 'probinsyana', life is pretty simple for me. I only go to Manila when needed. I think I kind of get culture-shocked when I'm in there. It's still pretty much the same for me, still.

When I was thinking of going to college, the first choice was UP, of course, and then ADMU (syempre konting pangarap lang, hindi ko naman afford yan. haha.). De La Salle University, or any other De La Salle campus hasn't crossed my mind. Who would've thought that I'd be going there, much more in De La Salle Lipa? I thought, "if I go to La Salle, it should be in the main campus." I stereotype people in DLSL.

Even now, I still stereotype them, hahaha. Some people will kill me when they read this. I'm not too proud being a Lasallian in Lipa, but I'm not ashamed of it. But then, the tides really turn... Sometimes I find it enjoyable riding the bus going to and from the campus. Sometimes, I think that the universe conspired to "make me go there". Lately, I've been learning to appreciate the flaws of the campus. I'm learning to appreciate that the professors, even though they disappoint me sometimes, have the Batangenyo attitude that I would've missed when I went straight to DLSU... Yes, maybe I said that the education is really mediocre compared to that of the major universities in Manila, but I guess it's just really it in the province.

Somehow, I am thankful that I am going to DLSL. I've met so many people. I have fun with my younger classmates in the school cafeteria, aka Chez. I learn to appreciate the value of water and clean toilets and hand bidets when we were deployed to a rural elementary school. I laugh at my teachers' Batangenyo jokes. I can speak with my Batangenya accent and no one will laugh; I can make references to private Batangenyo jokes and people will understand. I think that I'm actually enjoying.

But, again, I also think that DLSL is only a stepping stone for me. When one dreams, one dreams high. One aims higher... and I think that Lipa is not a place for me to grow. I think that one day, I'll leave La Salle Lipa and go into a much larger environment, hence, with different kinds of people. I think I want to go some place else, where I can answer questions without standing up; where I can wear my tattered jeans; wear my corporate attire in a smart casual way; where I do not have to wear hellish high-heeled shoes while going up and down the stairs and where I can make a smart reference about something far-fetched and then they will get me.

One thing is for sure though: I will never look at Lipa Lasallians the way I looked at them (oh, at us) before. My mind is now open. :)

Animo La Salle! CHOS. hahaha!

Of leaving and coming home

I went to NAIA two days ago to send-off my sister. As I am fascinated by airports and the interesting pool of crowd to be found there, I can't help but cringe at the state of our country's airplane hub. It was a disaster.

Our airport - voted as the worst in the world - is really living up to its label. The road to Sucat (the route to the airport) is currently like hell for travelers: the jeepneys are stopping in the middle of the road without flashing signal lights, apparently for loading and unloading. People cross the street on a run, ignoring the dangers of doing so and the vehicles are promising candidates of a Guinness world-record for smoke-belching.

When we got to the airport, the parking lot was so congested and disorganized. Cars, vans and jeepneys lined up like undisciplined kids with their bodies parked in a distorted line which would make you arrive at a conclusion that accidents may likely occur. Convenience stores were also present with prices that doubles that of 711's. Outside the parking lot were more people walking nonchalantly on the streets; oblivious to the rampant arriving and departing vehicles. A famous fast-food chain is situated at the arrivals waiting lounge and adjacent to it is a mediocre coffee shop that would make your cheap and local coffee taste like heaven.

We arrived at the departure area ahead of time. To my utter dismay and annoyance, just outside the airport building were more, yes, more people present, taxis running and traffic commencing. There was even a media vehicle parked outside that just made it worse. The security guards tried hard to contain the chaos as the crowd bid their love ones goodbye.

I ushered my sister to the passenger entrance and the lady guard reprimanded me for trying to explain to my sister what to do as it was her first time to go back abroad by herself. I thought that she should be considerate because we were not causing any delay or whatnot. The side of the entrance was so full of people that you will not be able to decipher which ones were going to leave or not. Moreover, the screen that displays which airlines are open for check-in were so small you had to squint at it.

I was appalled at how ghastly the service is. For me, the airport is one of the most important thing in a country as it is the gateway for locals and international tourists alike. It is the first thing that a traveler could see from up above while the plane is landing - and rusty roofs with car wheels of different sizes on top of them is probably unimpressive for most people, not to mention that piles of garbage are never a welcome sight.

As I love my country, I hate all the discrepancies that I see in its portal to the world. I hate that we cannot go inside and accompany our love ones as they do in other countries. I hate that it doesn't give a sense of good feeling; that it doesn't exude the smell equal to that of a shopping mall. I hate that people who cannot afford to ride a plane can't take a look of what's inside the airport.

It is very disappointing for me, I am quite feeling really dismayed for a long while now, ever since I get to see the airports of other countries. Though it may seem like I am putting down my own, I am also quite hopeful that the government can do something about it. I certainly hope so. But I only have one wish: please don't let me start talking about what could be found inside NAIA. You might hate so much.

Middle finger and heart in one

It is funny that I thought when I'll be back home, things are gonna be different. It's funnier when I discover that the difference is littler than what I've expected. I have told myself so many fucking times that expectation is the rust that would destroy all my hopes. It would take up all my courage, exhaust all my strengths, and fortify my weaknesses.

I'm at a payphone trying to call home
All of my change that I have spent on you
Where have the times gone baby
It's all wrong, where are the plans I made for two


How could one continue on hoping and holding on when it's already hurting too much?
How could I possibly be that person who hurts another person and then one other person could possibly be hurting me in return? What are the odds that such situation shall arise? What would be the result?

I know it's hard to remember the people we used to be
It's even harder to picture that you're not here next to me
You said it's too late to make it
But is it too late to try?

Things get scary for me when it's time to sleep at night. I don't sleep much... I just tell myself I do. I think a lot before I sleep and thinking doesn't help me at all. I have so many regrets in life, and I am shitless scared that this would be another one for the list...

I've wasted my nights
You turned out the lights. now I'm paralyzed
Still stuck in that time when we called it love
But even the sun sets in paradise


Oh damn you. You are playing me. My heart is not an object to be played with. My intelligence shall never be insulted. I hate you. I hate you for making me feel like this. I hate you for being always the one having the power to melt all my defenses and then let me down in the end. Most of all, I hate you because I love you. I love you that it breaks my own heart just thinking about it. Oh damn.

Heartless people are people who, once, have loved too much.

Damn, again.

Casa Mia, Amore Mio

Hello Philippines!! It's been a long time since I've seen your rusty roofs from above the plane, your naked kids running along the street, your people who seem to suck up to everyone who works abroad, your dirty surroundings, and the most ironic of all, your grandiose and magnificent buildings that reflect the contradictory state of our country. Hear me when I say: I FUCKING MISSED YOU!!!! No matter how mediocre your airport is, how frustrating is the heat and the air conditioning inside, how ugly are the stores and how men stare at women who smoke as if they're sluts; there is no denying that for me, you are still the most frickin pretty country in the whole world! (Of course that is a bit too much, but hey, I'm just being patriotic. Our country is beautiful beyond words, it's the government and the undisciplined people that sucks.)

I still can't pretty much believe that after five years, I'm really here. I breathe the same air that my friends do and can ride a jeep and ditch tricycles. Seriously, why do they ask for a lot of money? They're a bit outrageous on their fare when you get to inhale all the smog while you're inside it. I prefer to walk, papayat pa ako! Hahaha!

At first I couldn't sleep because of the heat, or because I was jet lagged, but most of all, it just felt surreal that after years of hoping to come home and free myself from every nagging thought inside my head, from every agonizing pain, I'M REALLY HERE!!!!

So yes, three weeks and counting and I think I was culture shocked. I go out only on weekends, can't eat on fast foods, can't go to the market... can't fucking buy a toothbrush that is worth 200 bucks because that is waaaaay too expensive!!! :)) Nakaka culture shock ang presyo!

 But anyway, as the cliche goes: There. is. no. PLACE. like. HOME.

Hello June!

Things to do when I finally move on

Sometimes, there is a point in our lives when we ask ourselves questions that we can't seem to answer. Other times, we just let go of the feelings and try hard not to think about them... Many of us, of people who are hopelessly in love with love, we often stumble and get hurt. When these things happen, we ask, "why can't I move on?" But I realize, asking that makes no sense. So I devised a plan in my head and wonder about "what will I do when I finally moved on?"

First of all (sometimes this is the hardest part), I will throw his pictures away. I will delete every picture we have on my computer, eradicate all the online conversations, burn everything he gave me and be allergic to his name. What am I going to do with all those things? It will just make me remember his face when I see them. So, painful as it may, I will brave the odds and do it. 

I will delete his number on my cellphone and forget to remember every single digit. I will not drink and then text him words like "I love you" or in my most drunk days, "I hate you! Fucking asshole!" Of course if I text him and then I'm drunk it will probably end up like "Ihdhjgaytu".. you know. 

I will go to places we used to go and make new memories - alone or with friends. Maybe it will make me remember his face or the things we used to do, but hey, I moved on right? So I better get on with it. I will spit on the spot where he used to sit or stand and tell myself, "that serves him right!", convincing enough but not too much to make me feel the bitterness in my mouth. 

I will get a haircut, or a new hair color or just a fucking tattoo to symbolize my readiness to get on with my pretty life, or I could also have my whole body waxed or body hairs laser'ed so they won't grow back. Sometimes, the physical pain you inflict on your body can take away the pain you feel in your heart. But I must remember not to exaggerate or else I'll find myself jumping from the rooftop of his condo. Or some bridge. Whatever.

I will binge on ice cream because I wouldn't care anymore if I get fat and he'll be disgusted. I will buy lots of Swiss chocolates, or just chocolates; go to Italian restaurants and eat a lot of profiteroles and tiramisù, and the best therapy of all, I'll go fucking shopping 'til my wardrobe is completely new.

Those are just on the top of my list. My main problem right now is the how part. How to move on. How to forget all the goddamn memories, all the dreams we've built together, all the funny and crazy shenanigans we used to do. How could I love the place where we used to eat? How could I make myself happy while he's so enjoying himself in some girl's company? More importantly, how could I kill them or just completely wipe away their existence, much like Peter Bishop in Fringe? Hahahaha, kidding.

But seriously, how am I gonna get past this? I don't want to hope but deep inside... there's still that little spark that is wishing that things will go back the way they were...

In the meantime, I'll think of other plans.

To You

Some days I'm happy, other days I'm sad.
Some days I'm awful, other days I'm the best.
Some days I'm insecure, other days I'm brimming with confidence.

Have you ever felt so desperately low that you've tried every possible way to keep your energy up and then you fail miserably? I have. Many, many times. Just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse, there comes the challenge. Lately, the days are much of a challenge for me. With continuous struggle to find that happiness I so ever clamor for, I feel myself slowly losing my grip to the strengths that I, with much difficulty and lots of mishaps, have obtained.

There were so many unspoken words that I would like to speak now, so many emotions I would like to show; emotions that I have rarely entertained, emotions that I have never acknowledged. There were so many questions that I would like to ask, grudges that I have inside me that I've tried so hard to forget. After five years, everything is still inconclusive. Everything is still a waste of time. I have built up a wall to protect myself from everybody, but I realize, I've built this massive wall to protect myself from you, from everything you represent. They say, "the one who made you cry is the only one who can make you stop crying", and my heart has been crying for all the lost times, for the dreams, for the memories that have been etched into my mind, for the mistakes that I've been constantly doing and for the lack of courage. I have so much inside me, so much love bottled up for you. It hasn't been all rainbows and happiness for me, it hasn't been that great. One moment I forget, the next moment, my heart starts crying again.

I wanted to ask you, "Why?" just as you wanted to ask me the same thing. Why do you love me? Why do you keep on holding on to me? Why, if you really love me, did you do everything that has hurt me in ways you can never have imagined? I was willing to go so far.. I was willing to bet my whole life. You gave me nothing. Why, if I was willing to do such, did I do such a thing that has torn us apart? These questions were never asked, never been spoken. I gave you forgiveness without having thought so much what I had lost and what part of me has been wasted. As I ponder about it every night for the last years, I only know the answer now. I was hurt, too badly, that I now feel like I've been stripped off of a chance to have that happiness, happiness that you could only provide.

Yes, you were right, you triggered the events that has led us to this. Yes, you were right, had I been faithful, we'd never be here: wounded, heartbroken and idiot souls who are trying to take their lives back.

But I wanted to be right, too. I wanted to show you how stupid you were for treating me like you don't love me. I wanted to show you that one day, someone's going to see what I'm worth. In the middle of this love skirmish we have, you did see, you did realize, but you didn't really understand the magnitude and the gravity of what you have caused me... and I'm doing the same to you.

What happened to us? What happened to everything we have promised to each other? Is this really it? Why, why does it have to be you who has to be free? Don't I need to be free of this pain, too? Don't I need the time, too, to heal and really forgive and then eventually forget? I am in dire need of you, of that part of me that is deep within you. I am in dire need of my heart, of my heart that is left with you, that I can't give to any other. I am in dire need of myself, of myself that has been lost in you. And I can't do that, not without you. I want us to face this together, to heal each other, to overcome the biggest obstacle of our lives.

All I ask is for you to give back what I've been deserving for the longest time... to be the first. To be the first. Because whether you admit it or not, I have always been the second, the moment you told me the sickening words, "I can't."

The Beyond Twenty Shore

There are absolutely nice things that go with being past your teen years, but there are really some serious setbacks. I, for one, is really feeling the most of them. What, you may ask, are those things that drive me into this serious realization?  For starters,

1) No more allowances. I think that maybe if I just continued my wretched education, my parents would give me money, right? NOT. As I am now perfectly capable to work and feed myself, I think I would have to take a rain check on the allowance thing. Only, this is not true, because I'm currently wallowing in the midst of economic crisis, ergo, I'm out of job. No income, and so on.

2) You get bored and crazy at home. It's not funny when your friends have their jobs because unlike you, they did have the nerve and decency to continue their studies. (Hey, I want that, too but because I do not have money, it's not my option at the moment.)

3) You start to grow up in the meanest, harshest way possible. I mean, c'mon. Lucky are those people that while they "grow up", they can really enjoy life. They can do what they pleases, eat what they want, party all day long, or just, you know, buy Apple stuff and brag them. (Okay, not only Apple.) It's no joke when you're the opposite. Okay.

4) You feel a bit depressed. Why? Because at this point in your life, early-twenties, you needed to have that edge of being a bit established and successful. When you were just 16, you were imagining that at this age, you'll have this awesome job, you had moved out of the house and you're living independently - which is not happening.

Sometimes, you feel like "the walking dead" because your life gets frickin' crazy and boring and then you find yourself having all the time to think about everything: rainbows, Jershey Shore shiznits, even watching Jersey Shore at home coz there is nothing left to watch...You wonder about what's with Snooki that makes her famous... and Louis Vuittons you cannot have right now.

Ugh. Time to go.

Mockingjay

The title is so bland and obvious, right? But it is also straight to the point and I kind of like it. For my second review (because I totally lack of other things to talk about, lol), I'll give my two cents worth about the third book of The Hunger Games. (Yes, because it's too mainstream, I guess. But I didn't want to watch the movie without reading the book first - just like a true-blooded bookworm.) Do not read if you do not want spoilers.

Mockingjay

Of all the books in The Hunger Games series, I like Catching Fire the most; which would likely imply that I like the third one less, though there were some parts that really made my heart ache. I chose to write my review about this one because I think I would go crazy without having said all my thoughts aloud. (At this point, what I mean is to write, as I don't have anyone to share it with.) 

Some people say it is rushed, some people say it's a disaster. It wasn't really that rushed in my opinion, but rather, there weren't really much pages to put everything on. A disaster? Not really. I think I should give credits to Suzanne Collins for conjuring characters out of thin air and introducing them to readers without so much a fuss. It was disconcerting, in a way, but certainly not disastrous.

I really like Katniss Everdeen, she's almost like the female version of Harry Potter: can't obey orders, intuitive and has a fair judgment. Unlike Harry though, sometimes I hated her for being so weak. But my perception of her weakness vanished when I was nearing the end of the third book. It was written somewhat vaguely but, being in the first person narration, it was perfect. I can actually feel her pain of loss and disorientation. Lucky for her, she has Peeta, who also has his share of ups and downs (I'm still wondering how he recovered from the blows he took), to lift her spirits up.

I think there are potential characters that weren't given enough attention, characters that, maybe, in the future, would inspire more books to be written. Sadly, they were left out in the last book of the series and it's all up to us how to characterize them in our imagination.

I'd give 3.5 out of 5 stars. This is a series I'll be well-remembering and re-reading in the future. :)

Jinx: A Review

Jinx by Meg Cabot

It has been a while since I've been wanting to read this book. The plot is actually interesting and the author is Meg Cabot - I know, I know. I'm like a teenager who reads books like this one. But hey, she is good. Even though the stories are a bit shallow for young adults like me, her books keep me reading until I haven't finished. This one, I have finished in one sitting. As an insomniac, reading books is what helps mo go through the night. It helps me relax and make my eyes tired so that sleep would come by easily. I've read it from 1 o'clock in the morning until 4 o'clock and a half... I know, it's a bit slow, really, for a 262-page book. I've read it on my phone, though, as it was an ePub.

I generally liked it. The story isn't really something that would grip you and make you feel like wanting more in the end, but it will teach you something. The heroine, for me, is a bit coward and gullible. That's her character. Maybe I liked the antagonist's character more, because she's strong and she doesn't like to be stepped on. But all good stories should have good characters, one that would stir sympathy and affection from their readers, or just like here, a guy that would make you swoon. I just have one question: if Asian girls like me read it, and from the perspective of the majority of us (I would like to think so), would we find the guy so helluva attractive with his American hair and American eyes? Because frankly, it is not my preference. But to each his own, they say. Either way, both the girls in the story are attractive in their own way, and the guy is like - yea, the guy of your dreams. 

I just hope there is a sequel to this one, one that would explain so much, because I think Ms. Cabot has left a lot for the reader to wonder about. 

So 3 out of 5 stars! :)

Mary Jane

Gustong gusto ko magblog. As in. Gustong gusto ko. Ang problema ko lang palagi, kapag nakaharap na ako sa computer, wala ako maisip na isulat. Writer's block? Hindi naman ako nauusuhan nun. Hindi naman ako writer. Ang naiisip ko lang, wala na yatang interesting na nangyayari sa buhay ko. My life is so frighteningly monotonous that I don't even know kung saan ako huhugot ng interesting topics.

But again, there are many interesting topics to talk about, like the frickin' impeachment trial, for example. Or the ICCs attempt at sabotaging Senator Miriam Defensor-Santiago, or the Kony Project... or even the famine that is Africa and the hypocrisy that is the Holy See. Pero wala eh... hindi ko maisulat. They require a lot of research before I could put down indisputable facts. I don't wanna end up like a laughing stock for the few people who read my blog (if there were any, for that matter). So, see? No matter how much I wanna be noble,  chicken ako. Hahaha. The internet is a scary place, albeit, I find my comfort in this scary place.

Wow, nakakatatlong paragraph na ako. May nasasabi na din pala ako kahit paano. Ang hirap no? Mahirap sumabay sa takbo ng utak ko. Pabiling-biling. Hindi pumipirmi. Ang gusto ko lang talaga, kahit paano, mabawasan yung laman nito ( hindi naman maubos kasi ano na ko nun), yung medyo gumaan lang...

Kagaya ng epekto ng Maryjane. If you know what I mean.

Because it's too mainstream

Ohhh yes. The Magnum Ice Cream bandwagon. Everybody is posting pictures about this magnificent ice cream, and now I'm also doing it. Sarcasm.

Was this highly publicized in the Philippines for them to even use this word as a verb as lame as "magnum'd"?  I admit it's magnificent and delicious, sometimes I buy myself a six pack of this and eat the half (double caramel double chocolate flavor, just because I want to say it) and end up really satisfied.

But do they really need to post this stuff everywhere, like they're boasting they eat an expensive ice cream? Do they really need to let everybody know that they can afford to buy it? There are a lot of people starving in the Philippines and they don't need to know that some people have eaten a stick of ice cream that costs more than they earn a day. I know, I'm greatly exaggerating, and I'm hoping they're getting the gist.

I don't have anything against this ice cream, on the contrary, I love it, too. I just don't get why people get so fucking conformists. And then they're asking why there are so many haters.

F yeah ink!

I've been seeing a lot of friends getting inked lately and frankly, I'm getting jealous!! Hahaha! :)
It's been years since I've thought about getting a tattoo and it's also that long that I haven't decided yet. For me, there are so many cons to it... That's just me, I don't know about you.

Here are my cons:

What if I get tired of it? It's not like we're forever young and we would love to see our skins etched with something that we did on our youth...

What if something went wrong or the tattoo artist trolls me and instead of designing what I want, he drew something I hate? :)) I know it's funny but hey, it happens!! I've seen enough 9gag!

What if I get successful and say, have a career that having a tattoo would be inappropriate...?

And yes, the paiiin. Ahhh, the paaaaiiin. I can't really tolerate physical pain much longer than the others; and we don't talk about possible infections yet!!

.. Okay so at the end of this entry, I think I have talked myself out (somehow) of getting a tattoo. But I'm a girl, and my hormones are kind of unstable right now, so let's see some other time how my scumbag brain would react to this.

Fashionista Wannabe

I have tried Polyvore after seeing a post from one of the blogs I've read. I know it's so yesterday, but hey!! It's never too late! :)) This should be my everyday/casual wear this Spring :)) I would really buy that Muji bag!

the everyday wear by dartharianne featuring zipper jeans

Zara zipper jeans, $50
Vans white skate shoes, £40
Muji organic cotton tote bag, $15
Owl jewelry, £12
Ray-Ban ray ban shades, $150

In the time of need

It's 2.44 in the morning, I have tried to sleep but to no avail. I am actually tempted to drink up the Valium that we have in our medicine cabinet but I thought, "hey why don't I blog?" so here I am, attempting to form a decent introduction.

What's been keeping me up? A lot of things have been keeping me busy for the past weeks, some of little importance, others significant. I have been busy being a daughter, trying my best to do the chores. I've been busy being a sister who has to have enormous amounts of patience that God could give me, and lastly, I've been busy being a friend, being someone who is willing to shed a troubled friend's tears. But I ask myself, am I neglecting my own self-worth just to prove my value to others?

Friends come, and then they go. The ones who choose to stay are the ones that you keep, they say. They deserve your loyalty, they say. But what if, just what if, you feel like they're just staying because they can get something from you? What if they're not here today, but when they need you, they just appear tomorrow, just like magic? You embrace them, love them, care for them and then they disappear again in a jiffy. Vanish. Or something.

Sometimes I just want to be alone and then see who's gonna come to my rescue. Sometimes, I also want to feel like I am important for somebody else not because they need me, but because they value me. Sometimes, I have this intense longing of being in the company of people who will realize my worth and most especially, people who understands the meaning of friendship.

People easily forget the good things that you've done for them but easily remember the bad ones, no matter how little they are. They forget that you invested time and emotions on your relationship with them that they just take you for granted; it's as if you're just like a remote control, when they turned off the TV, they throw the remote et voilà, will search for it again in the time of need.

I think I'm getting older, really. I think I have too many "friends". I am now in the process of sorting the real ones from the fake ones, and I intend to keep a few of them by my side. My life is too short to be wasted on cruel people.

Of questions and answers

The night is already telling me to finally repair my distorted body clock but something is always keeping me up. Because of this freezing weather that people in Winnipeg or Russia might call a normal day, it's hard not to stay at home. But despite the cold, it is this time of the night that I feel like my senses are awake: every scratch, every sound of breathing, every tick - I hear them all. If I stay silent enough, I hear my heartbeat. It is also - constantly - the time where I get to rethink what I have done throughout the day and then almost always regret half of it.

Regret. It's a funny word. Funny, yet powerful. Sometime in my life (and I must say I feel like I have lived longer than what my age says) I have stumbled upon a sentence which said that 'the happy people have no regrets'. It made me think. Must that mean that they're happy because they never did something that they didn't regret? Or does it mean that I have many regrets, therefore, I am not happy? So many days, hours, minutes and seconds that I have pondered on the true meaning of it.

...

As time goes by, I realized that happy people are the people who have done mistakes in their life and experienced regrets and loss, but along the way, they have come to embrace the fact that it is the only way for them to grow. When a person grows, he matures. When he matures, he changes his perspective. When he changes his perspectives, he understands better. When he understands better, he accepts. When he accepts, he's happy. He's happy because he understands that there was no way he could've changed things, there was no way that he could've done better. Things happened because they were supposed to happen.

So when I realized these things, I suddenly know. I suddenly know that even though I have many regrets, I am striving to be happy. Even though I have done so many mistakes in my life, there is nothing that should keep me from being happy. Life is hard to everybody, not just to me. The magnitude of the hardships may vary from person to person, but we can never question the intensity of other people's feelings. It is only a matter of perspective. Change the way you look at one thing, it changes everything.

When I thought about it, I stopped asking why.

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I've searched my feelings

This coming 10th of February marks not only a special day but also *drum roll*, the showing of Star Wars: The Phantom Menace in 3D. Hahaha! I am not excited.  I am not excited.

I really don't care about the 3D thing, what I am happy about is my chance to watch it on the big screen even though it'd be in Italian. But who cares??? Anakin Skywalker, he's all I care about! Haha! Forever alone lvl 9000 man ang magiging drama ko that day, I really don't mind. :D

Snowy Getaway

Hello February! Hello commercialized Hearts' Day!! Hahaha!

February is the shortest month of the year and that would make it the "lugi" month for the monthly transportation fee. Imagine to only pay for 28 (this year, 29) days! -_- But anyway, here in Milan, February is for late white Christmas because it snowed on the 2nd and 3rd!! :) For most people, it meant pictures!!!

My love-and-hate relationship with the snow is rather lame. I only love the snow when they're like crystals: sparkling and oh-so-white. But it also boils down to the fact that when it melts, it's hell for everybody. For a person who is as clumsy as I am, it is definitely a day to dread. But then again, since I haven't got a decent photo of myself on a snow-filled city, my sister and I decided to brave the weather and go out to shop for a few things while people were all at the comfort of their homes, thus, making the shops empty-free from sale-hungry citizens. We also took the moment to take photos of ourselves. :) Some Italians have mistaken us for Asian tourists while we're out and about. Here goes!

Those little white things are actually snowflakes! My beret was full of them!! :)

A much larger (and fatter) version of the picture above while we were walking along the street. The city was deserted that I was beginning to love the solitude. However, the camera's battery died! :))

My sister took this picture and much to my chagrin, it went out quite alright albeit it showed my shortness. Hahaha! My wool jacket and leather boots weren't really adapted to the snow, but then again, who cares? Everybody we encountered that snowy day was definitely not on their usual city-outfits.

Which takes me back to my current dilemma: the melting point. Right now the temperature is really dropping down to 12 degrees Celsius below zero and the wind outside can freeze my face. The ice is turning to water and some pavements are really slippery. It makes me think about hibernating at home and not go out until they have all melted.

So there, so much for an update. Sorry for my chubby face! I promise to be sexy soon! :)) I miss my skinny days!!!

Like A Boss

This made my night!! :) This is one of the reasons why I'm proud to be Pinoy. I love my country - no matter how densely populated, no matter how polluted, no matter how corrupt the politicians are and no matter what they say, we know how to smile and make people happy and forget our problems even for a while. :) Saludo ako sayo kahit gaano kaliit na bagay, kahit gaano kaliit ang sweldo, nagagawa mong magpasaya ng tao.

It srikes again

I really don't know why I'm writing at this moment. I just feel like I wanted to talk to someone but there is never really anyone that I could ever talk to. I just arrived home from a long day. Well, not really a long day, but rather an intense, mind-boggling psychoanalysis while I'm inside the car. They say less intelligent people tend to be happier because they don't overthink and overanalyze things. I don't say I have an intelligence quota higher than an average person, but you get the gist.

I have been dreaming of a simple life ever since I was a kid, where I wouldn't worry anymore about things way too much for my age. I just want to experience bliss that would take me somewhere; somewhere less stressful. I think we all dream of the same things. We take time to search for this road and along the way we take the roads towards unpleasurable things and we don't blame anybody but ourselves.

I have lots of things on my mind right now that I'd rather not disclose. I just want to be at peace for a moment and try to be happy. Or not.

"Try not. Do. Or do not. There is no try." -Yoda

Love in 1892

One of the things I like about Milan, aside from fashion that I can't wear, and gay-like men I can't decipher, is the transportation. Not the uber organized, but not a messy transportation either. Not in the category of Japan, but certainly not lacking in class and efficiency.

Back in the Philippines, I suffer from motion sickness. I was always scared of riding a bus to Manila from Batangas because I always end up vomiting all the food I ate for breakfast. (What a mental image, thank you, Arianne.) It was both frustrating and embarrassing.

Here in Milan, I have learned to overcome that annoying sickness. There's no alternative jeepney here. We have no car or anything and the only way to go somewhere is by bus and/or tram. At first I avoided the bus rides, thinking that I wouldn't want to terrify or gross people out if I suddenly asked the driver to halt and then vomit violently on the pavements. I always took the tram. Oh, the ever beautiful, ancient tram. (It was also one of the things that makes me feel like I'm in Italy, what with all of its renaissance glory. Haha!)

But it was so slow. It takes 40 minutes for me to arrive home from downtown, whereas when I take the bus, it would literally take half the time. So, armed with courage and menthol candies, I took my first ride. It was nothing like the smell of the buses in the Philippines, nothing like the hot and smelly seats, the dark windows and everything. It was awesome. (Oh my god I can't believe I'm raving about a bus ride. My life is so lame. Haha!) From that moment on, I learned everything there is to learn about buses here in Milan, their numbers, their destinations and the connecting stops where I could get another bus to take me as fast as they can to where I want to go.

But then again, from time-to-time, I ride the trams and the subways. Subways are amazing now because they have now network coverage and they are the fastest ones, but they get pretty much packed up especially in rush hours, so unless I want my toenails to be dead the moment I step out of it, I avoid them.

If I want to pretend that I'm in a movie clip or music video while I listen to music, I ride the tram. :D It has this melancholic air and sometimes slipping into the depressive line. Really. And it is my thing. Haha. So yes, it remains my first love out of all. If I'm gonna go back home, I will certainly miss the smell of the trams and the conversations I hear inside. Most especially, I will miss the feeling of being inside one.

Bittersweet

This is the most touching scene in Harry Potter.
MUST.REREAD.NOW.

-picture came from 9gag.

From butterflies to dragonflies

The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful
Stop me and steal my breath.
Tell me that we belong together, dress it up with the trappings of love..


It's six thirty-five in the morning and here I am, lethargic and sleepless, attempting to blog my thoughts away. I had already spent the last forty-five minutes or so watching A Cinderella Story. Oh yes. Chad Michael Murray. I was already inside my not-so-comfortable comforter, completely snuggled when I suddenly had the wise idea to watch something rather than struggle to sleep with thoughts overflowing.

I'll be your crying shoulder
I'll be love suicide
I'll be better when I'm older
I'll be the greatest fan of your life


It's funny when I couldn't feel anything aside from nostalgia when I watched their football slash kiss in the rain scene. I used to feel those funny little butterflies in my stomach, and should I say I miss that feeling?

I'm getting pretty much older, I age every year and I do not have any Philosopher's Stone with me to stop me from aging. I hate it.  I hate the fact that my world is not revolving backwards and I don't get any younger. Chad Michael Murray being 30 years old is an example of my fading adolescence and a sign that I have to fully embrace adulthood.

Oh life.

I'm just missing someone and for the past four years I have felt that my world is somehow stagnant, there is that deep sense of nostalgia and solitude that no one can ever decipher.

tl;dr

I am insomniac and really nocturnal. They are two of the many reasons why I sleep in the morning and wake up in the afternoon. I don't sleep for eight frigging hours. I am lucky if I get to sleep in, and that is when I sleep until 2pm. The rest of my family puts it as laziness, not really considering the factor that if the neuroceptors don't get enough REM sleep, they lose their sensitivity to serotonin and norepinephrine, which leads to impaired cognitive function. And just like Sheldon Cooper, if I don't have my serotonin, things would get bad.

When things get bad, I get irritable. That is the reason why I get angry with my mother yelling her throat out in the morning, my sister who pokes my head for me to wake up, and my brother who has this habit of turning on the blessed lights and opening the damn doors when I'm sleeping. 

According to them, it is the reason why I get fat.

According to me, the reason why I get fat is because I eat too much and I don't have enough sleep because they keep waking me up.

You see? It's a neverending cycle. 

They don't frickin' realize that insomnia is not a joke. It is almost synonym of being a drug addict who can't sleep and eat and just think for the whole night. They don't understand that I feel aggravated when they disturb me, and I also feel helluva pissed when I hear them talking about me-not-waking-up-early when I'm just a room away, just like what they're doing right now.

And yes, who would know that I feel like this? No one. Because fuck them, they don't bother to listen.

And Mom, I may be fat and lazy and according to your clothes that I ironed out a while back: I don't do anything.. well, surprise, surprise, I am not deaf and I can hear you out here.

PS. I am not fat. They just think I am because they have Megan Fox's body. DUH. 

Fashion Disasters and Epic Wins

Fashion sense? I don't think I have that one. I am deliciously gifted at pointing out clothes that could be eye candies for my sister or my mom to put on, but when it comes to myself, I barely have the ability to keep up with the trend.

I have been browsing a lot of websites, even the news and entertainment section, heck, I am even a subscriber of Glamour magazine for a year so I could have my monthly supply of makeup tips and what's-hot-and-what's-not - but to no end I could apply every bit of it to myself. It always leaves me wondering why.

For example, if I go out shopping with my friends, they all have these concrete ideas of what they should wear at a certain occasion and I don't. I go inside some stores and all I can see is total confusion. Sometimes I literally end up not going just because I didn't want to look stupid amidst all the glitzy dressed females.

Those magazines state that we, girls, should opt for mixing and matching. I have tried it about more than a dozen times but sometimes it ends up in panic buying of a complete ensemble, an outfit ready for the What Were They Thinking?! portion of omgyahoo, or not getting anywhere at all. I mean, what the hell is wrong with me? Is there something wrong with the color and design orientation of my brain or am I just low on confidence that I always think that I'm doing it wrong?

Sometimes I blame it on the way I was brought up. I always thought that I couldn't wear sleeveless shirts or even shorts because men will be ogling at me, and I couldn't say my grandmother was wrong either. (The jeepney drivers in the Philippines really know how to stare, to my utter horror.) I also thought that girls should look conservative, should always be au naturel, and should not pluck their horrific eyebrows, no matter how thick they are. Imagine that.

So yes, you can imagine the culture shock I felt when I first came here, where models are plain sight and people can wear whatever they want without worrying about the fact that there are also other people who exist around them that could stare, could ogle or sometimes, when one's wearing a very sexy attire, could drool.

Sometimes I am a fashion victim, other times I'm really not. I would gladly pick up a first edition of the first book of Harry Potter over a pair of Louboutin pumps that I could never wear while running for the bus. I do own some leopard-printed things, some fancy accessories, the floral skirts, and bags. I also pluck my eyebrows on a regular basis, wear make-up (I even have a primer for my foundation, haha!)  sometimes, but most of the days, you'll see me walking on my black coat, wearing a beret or beanie, a pair of overused boots and bag without any trace of make-up. You'll be lucky seeing me all glammed up in an ordinary day.

My relationship with fashion is a love and hate one. I love it when shirts are trendy, when skirts are not so in, when water-and-soap faces are in demand. I hate it when it starts treading the grounds of being glamorous, of being all made up, of latex leggings being sexy or just putting on the red lipstick that makes you look like a femme fatale. I hate it not because it doesn't fit my taste, but because I couldn't do it.

What's more loathsome is the fact that guys dig it. Not only guys, but the people dig it. They really do. When you go out sans anything that could show that you wear the latest trend, they make you feel like you live in the stone age. Whatever happened to simplicity? Whatever happened to guitar-nails; the short, unpolished nails that would allow you to strum your guitar without worrying if it would ruin your bloody red nail polish?

It makes me want to drink so I can have the Dutch courage to try to wear something out of my ordinary outfits and show the world that I am not just a geek reading her book and drinking her coffee in the cold weather.

But then again, I'd rather be myself.

So yea, I should stop wondering. Maybe I'm just really a geek. And proud of it.

Of thoughts and the lack thereof

When I was four, I had this plastic lunch bag that changes its colour under the sun; from white it turned violet. I knew it was cool back then so I was happy and contented. Some kids would walk up to me and say, “Hey where did you buy that? I want one too!”

When I turned five, I was in the afternoon section of the prep class (preparatory, just after kindergarten, also known as kinder two), and I had this 70 pieces of crayons that I was pretty much proud of even though I didn’t have the slightest idea where would I use each of ‘em, seeing as I wasn’t included in the creative bunch, having only the ability to draw people made of sticks.

When I was in first grade, it all started. We are not rich, my mom was a housekeeper and my dad was just a simple employee in some family business but because my grandparents can permit it at the time, I went into an expensive private school. Things have become so hard. My classmates were bringing toys like Barbie dolls, Polly Pockets, Lego and all those things that rich parents could afford. I was just always looking at them and if lucky, get to play with them with my classmates who were, fortunately, kind enough to let other kids touch their stuff. I’ve filled the lack of toys and money with the ability to excel with my studies, so it wasn’t much of a problem.

I grew up with the knowledge that I couldn’t have everything. If one thing was given to me, I couldn’t have the other because then it would be called greed. I grew up with an upbringing that if I had to have something that I don’t need, I had to give back something of equal value, thus, I always tried to excel in my studies. My parents had to go abroad to give us a good life and that, too, was something that I needed to consider.

This is maybe one of the many reasons why I have the capability to understand every sacrifice that I needed to do in life. It is one of the things that taught me to consider other people’s feelings, especially the ones that have given me so many things.

It is important for us to be contented of what we have, but it doesn’t mean that we didn’t have to dream of something better than that. But demanding something that are beyond the resources isn’t reasonable and downright selfish. We have to always consider the circumstances, analyze the situation and do our best to understand what’s right and what’s wrong.

Sometimes, even if we are not contented, we should try to be. Because when God closes a door, he opens a window somewhere, and as they say, we’re just too busy dwelling over at the closed door that we don’t realize that there’s a window waiting for us. 

Ab Ovo

Ab Ovo ; from the beginning

Happy New Year!! Here I am, yet again at another attempt at blogging. I, myself, really don't understand why I have this need to blog but not having enough drive to maintain it. I think I'm making fun of myself while I repeatedly do this.

But since it's New Year, and we're not supposed to begin a sentence with a conjunction, I'm writing again; and I want to take this opportunity to write the now cliché New Year's resolutions. This way, I have it in black and white and will serve as my checklist for the future. HAHAHA.

Here goes.

. To reconnect with people. I want to reconnect with my online buddies, friends and/or relatives, former classmates and former flames. Kidding!! :) Seriously, a lot of time has passed and it has been taken for granted which is why I want to take this opportunity to start to break the ice again.

. To be more patient and less temperamental. I have always considered myself as a patient person. Someone once told me, "The world belongs to the patient man." Lately, though, I have noticed that my patience is now reduced to a series of oaths and expletives. Hahaha.

. To be braver. I haven't realized until the end of 2011 that I am not brave. I am strong, but I lack the courage to take risks. This year, I am hoping to change that.

. To study  until my nose bleeds. I am just kidding on the nose bleed part.

. To be frugal. Hahaha I am not a spender because frankly, I don't have much money to spend, but when I do, I spend waaay too  much. This is definitely something that I need to change!

2011 has been both good and bad to me. I have learned many lessons, made the same mistakes to learn from the same lessons again. Experience, as what you may call it. I have almost exhausted all my emotional strengths and resources, lost hope and the have it back again. But the biggest lesson I have learned: never take yourself for granted. :)

Happy New Year!! May the water dragon  bring us good luck, success, and fortune!!