1231
Tinignan ko ang mga larawan. Nagbalik tanaw sa nakaraan.
Anuman itong aking naramdaman, ang ilang taon ay parang kahapon lang.
Wala na ang sugat ngunit nasa alaala ang kirot
Patuloy na nagtatanong kahit wala na ang may hawak ng sagot.
Hindi naman talaga ikaw ang dahilan ng sakit
Ang hirap lang talaga tanggapin na madali akong saktan at limutin
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1206
Salamat sa walang sawang pagmamahal. Wala kang katulad. Ang dami dami dami kong gustong sabihin tungkol sa iyo pero hindi ko pa rin mahanap ang pinakatamang salitang pang-abay na tutukoy kung ano ka at ano ka para sa akin. Ganito na lang, angkinin mo ang pinakamagandang mahahanap mo at bibigyan na lang kita ng karapatan. You've earned it.
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0928
Salamat sa pagiging inspirasyon. Ano mang landas ang iyong tahakin, ano mang lugar ang tinatanging patunguhan, sino man ang iyong isama sa iyong paglalakbay, at iwan ka man nya, hinding hindi ka mag-iisa. Marami kaming nagmamahal sa iyo.
Sexy Ako!
Being sexy should never be one's goal, because sexiness is a reward. And when I say sexy here, I'm not only referring to the hourglass-shaped body together with the essential BBs (booty and breasts). For me, even a woman weighing 200 lbs can still be sexy if she can brighten people's day with her bubbly personality. Have you noticed, however mean you think you are, you can't make fun or ridicule people who make you happy no matter what they look like?
A wife can still think her husband is sexy even after he burns half of his face and looks hideous to everybody. Why? Because the wife knows that he is a good man, and this good man do stuff that are sexy in her eyes.
I remember, when I was in high school, I had this Science teacher who is overweight. She was nice, and taught us all these boring biology terms that nobody ever want to remember with a dash of humor. Also, she dressed cute or classy -- always an interesting outfit, never one of those old and boring clothing that screams "HELLOWW!! I AM A TEACHER!!!" One day, my friend Blanche and I were on the phone talking about our teachers and that particular teacher's name came up.
Blanche: Si Ma'am L**** ang taba-taba pero ang sexy no?
Me: OO nga napansin ko din un, siguro kasi lagi syang naka-smile...
Blanche: Lagi na nga rin ako mag-iismayl....
See? If there's something good about you that nobody can explain, all they know is that it's good and they like it, that's being sexy. So before you decide to hit the gym and deprive yourself with food you think that might make you fat, you shouldn't be there just because you want to be called "hot" or "sexy". There should be a real goal, like "to be healthy" or "to build confidence" because if you did lose the weight, you achieved your goal, and you will stop there. Sooner or later, you will be unhappy about it. It's either you will try to lose more weight because you want to be as skinny as the supermodels you watch on TV or you will gain back the pounds because you don't even know what you did it for.
However, if you work out because you want to be healthy, you will feel healthy afterwards. There will be more energy to do the things you love. And having an overflowing spirit and vigor towards life is sexy. If you did gain confidence because you successfully shed some pounds, you will trust yourself to wear that skirt you would never wear during that point in your life you had low self-esteem. Believing that you will be accepted for the choices and decisions you made for yourself is sexy. Sexiness is your reward for having a real goal in life.
As for me, I spend two hours in the gym everyday and is trying to eat right (no fried food!) because I want to pass my PT test and run faster because I love running (proof: I have 8 pairs of running shoes) Next thing you know, the clothes I thought I could never wear start to look good on me. Then these compliments about looking great. (Note: still overwight, though. 155 lbs)
Do something good for others and for yourself, and you will be rewarded, sexy.
About the Title: I have this college friend who is kinda overweight. She asked me one time to make a layout for her friendster profile, so she gave me the username and password for her account. The password was: SexyAko
A wife can still think her husband is sexy even after he burns half of his face and looks hideous to everybody. Why? Because the wife knows that he is a good man, and this good man do stuff that are sexy in her eyes.
I remember, when I was in high school, I had this Science teacher who is overweight. She was nice, and taught us all these boring biology terms that nobody ever want to remember with a dash of humor. Also, she dressed cute or classy -- always an interesting outfit, never one of those old and boring clothing that screams "HELLOWW!! I AM A TEACHER!!!" One day, my friend Blanche and I were on the phone talking about our teachers and that particular teacher's name came up.
Blanche: Si Ma'am L**** ang taba-taba pero ang sexy no?
Me: OO nga napansin ko din un, siguro kasi lagi syang naka-smile...
Blanche: Lagi na nga rin ako mag-iismayl....
See? If there's something good about you that nobody can explain, all they know is that it's good and they like it, that's being sexy. So before you decide to hit the gym and deprive yourself with food you think that might make you fat, you shouldn't be there just because you want to be called "hot" or "sexy". There should be a real goal, like "to be healthy" or "to build confidence" because if you did lose the weight, you achieved your goal, and you will stop there. Sooner or later, you will be unhappy about it. It's either you will try to lose more weight because you want to be as skinny as the supermodels you watch on TV or you will gain back the pounds because you don't even know what you did it for.
However, if you work out because you want to be healthy, you will feel healthy afterwards. There will be more energy to do the things you love. And having an overflowing spirit and vigor towards life is sexy. If you did gain confidence because you successfully shed some pounds, you will trust yourself to wear that skirt you would never wear during that point in your life you had low self-esteem. Believing that you will be accepted for the choices and decisions you made for yourself is sexy. Sexiness is your reward for having a real goal in life.
As for me, I spend two hours in the gym everyday and is trying to eat right (no fried food!) because I want to pass my PT test and run faster because I love running (proof: I have 8 pairs of running shoes) Next thing you know, the clothes I thought I could never wear start to look good on me. Then these compliments about looking great. (Note: still overwight, though. 155 lbs)
Do something good for others and for yourself, and you will be rewarded, sexy.
About the Title: I have this college friend who is kinda overweight. She asked me one time to make a layout for her friendster profile, so she gave me the username and password for her account. The password was: SexyAko
Pain, Pain, Go Away!
“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”
Don't make me whole, just don't make me look back anymore. There is no way you can put back the pieces together, leave them there. They serve as a reminder that in falling in love I should leave some love for myself, too, that way I will have the strength to pull myself together once somebody torn me apart. Not like when you left, the only thing I was able to do is try to fight the tears from falling, which was unsuccessful.
Maybe I expected too much from love, or maybe I blindly insisted that it was love. I mistook your actions and promises as signs of a love that needs to reciprocated. I thought it was a give and take relationship so I gave generously, not knowing that you only intended to give for a short time, and not even interested in what I have to offer. I'm tired of saying sorry for not being the ideal partner, but I guess it's true, I am not an ideal partner. I really wish I can be perfect, but then again I realized one of the reasons I love you is because you accepted me the way I am.
This is not written out of desperation to welcome me back to your life. In fact, that thought scares the hell out of me because I sure do not want to go back to those nights I had to cry myself to sleep only to wake up crying again because in my dreams you were running away, and I keep running after you, me begging you to stop and you not giving a damn. The fake smile I had to wear to show my friends that I am over you, which they find hard to believe because the eyes are not good in hiding emotions. I don't want to go back to those days I felt so little, incompetent, and unattractive.
I am not asking you to say sorry, either. I am done blaming one of us for a love that wasn't meant to be. I realized we don't even know each other that well to be in love. However, unlike you, I really loved you, though. The purpose of this writing is to remind myself that even my heart was broken, I don't have to be totally OK to be able to love again. I just need to avoid looking back at the old pains that you brought, because each time I do, I'm getting the urge to run away and jump in my shell again to be safe. I need to move forward with a broken heart and ask somebody to help me glue the pieces back together instead.
I chose not to suffer.
U-TURN
Euphoric, that's how it feels when I do it with you. My brain doesn't instruct my body to respond, it just automatically moves in rhythm, like there's music and only my soul can hear it. With you, that part of my brain that rationalizes stop functioning. Suddenly I am not afraid of consequences because there is none if it doesn't feel wrong. It is supposed to feel this way - it must be right if it feels right.
After our sweet encounters, there are no regrets or guilt to deal with, only excitement for the possibility of another rendezvous taking place. With the other, it feels like a duty - it is only enjoyable because I am fulfilling my job. Pretensions - they never fail to leave a bad taste in my mouth. Ours could be another kind of mistake, but it tastes like sugar and the sweetness lingers until the other rubs it off again. Once I'm done with the other I end up feeling empty, and sorry for myself because I can't stomach the normal and natural, while in my head with you the oddness is a gift. Questions pile up, questions that when I try to answer only point me in one direction... to where you are.
Sometimes, running in a one way street is pointless if the road leads you to a place where you never intended to go. I'm making a U-TURN.
After our sweet encounters, there are no regrets or guilt to deal with, only excitement for the possibility of another rendezvous taking place. With the other, it feels like a duty - it is only enjoyable because I am fulfilling my job. Pretensions - they never fail to leave a bad taste in my mouth. Ours could be another kind of mistake, but it tastes like sugar and the sweetness lingers until the other rubs it off again. Once I'm done with the other I end up feeling empty, and sorry for myself because I can't stomach the normal and natural, while in my head with you the oddness is a gift. Questions pile up, questions that when I try to answer only point me in one direction... to where you are.
Sometimes, running in a one way street is pointless if the road leads you to a place where you never intended to go. I'm making a U-TURN.
Are You A Sim, Too?
I feel like a "The Sims" character, the one who waves her hand at the player and sobs because her relationships level is really low. I used to play that game when I was still in Makati, when I was trying to avoid people who have endless life dramas or situations that might end up in endless life dramas. Anyway, back then, I thought my Sim was over-reacting, that it is not too bad living all alone in a big house, especially if it is stocked with all the highest-value items and appliances available thanks to [Ctrl] + [Shift] + C and enter "klapaucius;:. I mean, come on, I bought all these so as to keep yourself busy and not think about things that you don't really need... like relationships! But there she is, stopping in the middle of a video game to wave at me and sob, with a speech bubble with a picture of another sim on top of her head.
So i did let her call that guy, and invite him over at the house I built (for 3 hours.. haha!). It was fun, but I didn't like how all the interactions would eat up all the time. Next thing you know, she's out of energy, hungry, sleepy, and should be ready for work in two hours. I can still picture myself rolling my eyes and shaking my head while saying to myself "man, my Sim is stupid, there are more important things in life than romantic relationships". I would even laugh at my sim at times she peed on herself or fell asleep in a middle of a conversation because she preferred to talk to some guy than take care of herself.
Now, if my Sim can just walk from Makati to Fort Hood, maybe she will knock hard on my door, bit*ch-slap me on the face, and let out a mocking laugh because she had proven me wrong. She made me realize that being in a relationship is actually part of taking care of one's self. However, I would bit*ch-slap her back and tell her how it is harder for me because I am an actual human. Nobody will care if I wave my hand and sob just because my life levels are low. Nobody would click on the refrigerator so I can go there and start making a meal for myself... well, actually, I don't need anybody for that, my level is always high on that specific area. Haha! Anyway, yeah, during those times that I had to stop in the middle of what I was doing because I suddenly felt so lonely, with an imaginary speech bubble popping out with a picture of a particular person in it, there was nothing I can do!
Taking a deep breathe, listening to old and new music, and emptying bottles of strawberry daiquiri or bud's light help to keep the pain at bay. But as soon as their effects subside, I am back to the reality that there is missing in my life and that I need to do something with it. It's funny how I became the character that I used to play, only this time, there are no available cheats I can use.
So i did let her call that guy, and invite him over at the house I built (for 3 hours.. haha!). It was fun, but I didn't like how all the interactions would eat up all the time. Next thing you know, she's out of energy, hungry, sleepy, and should be ready for work in two hours. I can still picture myself rolling my eyes and shaking my head while saying to myself "man, my Sim is stupid, there are more important things in life than romantic relationships". I would even laugh at my sim at times she peed on herself or fell asleep in a middle of a conversation because she preferred to talk to some guy than take care of herself.
Now, if my Sim can just walk from Makati to Fort Hood, maybe she will knock hard on my door, bit*ch-slap me on the face, and let out a mocking laugh because she had proven me wrong. She made me realize that being in a relationship is actually part of taking care of one's self. However, I would bit*ch-slap her back and tell her how it is harder for me because I am an actual human. Nobody will care if I wave my hand and sob just because my life levels are low. Nobody would click on the refrigerator so I can go there and start making a meal for myself... well, actually, I don't need anybody for that, my level is always high on that specific area. Haha! Anyway, yeah, during those times that I had to stop in the middle of what I was doing because I suddenly felt so lonely, with an imaginary speech bubble popping out with a picture of a particular person in it, there was nothing I can do!
Taking a deep breathe, listening to old and new music, and emptying bottles of strawberry daiquiri or bud's light help to keep the pain at bay. But as soon as their effects subside, I am back to the reality that there is missing in my life and that I need to do something with it. It's funny how I became the character that I used to play, only this time, there are no available cheats I can use.
While Track 56 Was Playing
Next month, she'll be moving to another place, and only God knows how long she is going to stay there. It is going to be the same, normal. And by normal, it means cold and lonely until something actually exciting happens at work. Her job pays little, but it brings surprises, though she prays for another patch to stick on her uniform's Velcro because that means additional fund for her penchant for foreign cuisine and online shopping.
Right now, she is consuming her eighth cup of coffee for the day while looking through the window to watch the December snow fall and kiss the ground. It is white and peaceful in the New Jersey suburb where she is staying now, but they are not enough to calm her troubled soul. Inner panic, that is how she would describe it. Something is about to happen. Or, something might have already happened.
After she managed to figure out what was bothering her, a smile appeared on her face. The bitter kind. She placed the empty cup on the nearby table, not even knowing why she did and what to do next. See, an answer triggers another question.
Why can't I just forget about you? When I know you have already forgotten about me... about us...? If it felt so right being together, then why do we have to part? Why does this distance enough reason for you to stop loving me? Why can't I just love another, somebody who's physical nearness can bring warmth in my cold world? If we do stay in love, and meet again, are we going to recognize each other, as if nothing has changed or will we feel as if we're strangers trying, forcing to revive something that died a long time ago?
Being miles away from the people she love so dearly is killing her little by little, like a living thing trying to survive without the sun. She buried her face on the cold palms of the hands that are longing to clasp with her lover's. Next month, instead of the hand of her heart's desire, it is the loaded m16 that she will be holding.
She stood up and grabbed the empty cup that left circle stains on the table. Ninth shot of caffeine coming up.
Right now, she is consuming her eighth cup of coffee for the day while looking through the window to watch the December snow fall and kiss the ground. It is white and peaceful in the New Jersey suburb where she is staying now, but they are not enough to calm her troubled soul. Inner panic, that is how she would describe it. Something is about to happen. Or, something might have already happened.
After she managed to figure out what was bothering her, a smile appeared on her face. The bitter kind. She placed the empty cup on the nearby table, not even knowing why she did and what to do next. See, an answer triggers another question.
Why can't I just forget about you? When I know you have already forgotten about me... about us...? If it felt so right being together, then why do we have to part? Why does this distance enough reason for you to stop loving me? Why can't I just love another, somebody who's physical nearness can bring warmth in my cold world? If we do stay in love, and meet again, are we going to recognize each other, as if nothing has changed or will we feel as if we're strangers trying, forcing to revive something that died a long time ago?
Being miles away from the people she love so dearly is killing her little by little, like a living thing trying to survive without the sun. She buried her face on the cold palms of the hands that are longing to clasp with her lover's. Next month, instead of the hand of her heart's desire, it is the loaded m16 that she will be holding.
She stood up and grabbed the empty cup that left circle stains on the table. Ninth shot of caffeine coming up.
STX Week
11.17.08 Monday -- Admin day. Went to travel office to purchase my plane ticket to New Jersey. For 14 days, starting Dec. 11, I will be doing hometown recruiting for the Army. I hope I get people to sign up because one person equals to an additional $2,000 on my paycheck. Hehe. After a short break, I need to be back in Texas by Jan. 4 because I was stationed at Fort Hood, Austin. According to my order, I'm assigned to work with the 1st Aviation unit... whatever that is. hahaha! Oo na lang ako ng oo.
11.18.08 Tuesday -- BAS day. BAS stands for Battalion Aid Station and it is one of the 5 lanes that we need to go through during the STX week (Situational Training Exercise). Here, we were taught how to set up a battalion aid station on the field. First, the big tent then the medical materials necessary and how should we arrange them in our tent. Moreover, we also learned where the triage and evacuation points should be located. I was appointed as platoon leader. How I got that position? Well, prior going to the field, we had a short briefing and the sergents in charge asked who were the most quiet people in the class. They pointed out 2 particular people and I was one of them. The other person became Platoon Sergeant. I thought I'm going to get yelled at a lot because of that but it was actually a blessing in disguise because all I did was fill out medical field cards and watch other people run around carrying litters and poking each other's arms with needles.
11.19.08 Wednesday -- Blood Labs day. This, for me, is the best part of STX. On this lane, we have to deal with two different scenarios wherein there were mass casualties: one is we have to enter a building bombed by terrorists and the other is a marketplace in Iraq where there are civilians and military men injured after a suicide bomber killed himself there. The rooms we went into were made to look like our scenarios, only this time, we had to treat dummies connected to a computer. These dummies can breathe (there is rise and fall of the chest), bleed (yes, there is fake blood coming out of their injured parts), and perfuse (there is pulse on the femoral, carotid, and radial arteries). I had two patients, well, uhh, make that three. One was a burn patient, who, by the way, didn't get any treatment from me because he was a burn patient. We don't treat burn patients right away, we just transport them. My second patients were a mother and child. The mother has an amputated arm while the child has a head wound and burns. I treated the mother first. Just right after I finished bandaging the decapitated arm, the bell rang sounded off signaling the end of our mission. I felt horrible for not being able to save the baby!! However, during the counseling, the sergeant in-charge told us that the baby was already dead anyway but he said I should not leave the dead baby there because the mother might refuse treatment once she sees her child like that. Another thing, I should ALWAYS ask the husband, sheik, or any male in the house for permission before I touch any woman in the family... yes, even if she's dying. Even if I saved that woman, she will be stoned to death anyway because her family will consider her unclean. Hey! That's why we don gloves!!
11.20.08 Thursday -- MOUT training (Military Operations in Urban Terrain). This lane includes the techniques of clearing houses or buildings, moving and treating casualties, and rescuing hostages. I was an infantry soldier and I had to pull security at all times. My team leader ordered me to bring the civilians out of the building. When I got out of the house, the sergeant was standing right there and yelled saying that I just got captured by the enemies because I was alone outside, without a battle buddy. Oh yeah, we have this thing called battle buddy system. It simply means we always got to have a same gender companion at all times wherever we go. Anyway, it was fun but not as fun as blood labs. hehe..
11.21.08 Friday -- Combatives Tournament and Patrol day. I joined the combatives tournament because they needed 4 females and 8 males from each platoon and no female wanted to volunteer to join!! My opponent was Lee from 4th ID. We are friends but when we were fighting, it we were feisty! It was a long and tiring. I won, but I swung my right arm the wrong way in my attempt to get out of her grip. Next fight is on monday and it will be against Allsman. I love Allsman!! I don't want to hurt her! Hahaha! But, yeah, I have to kick her ass.
Patrol lane: This lane sucks. We ran for 2 miles on a rocky and steep terrain, crossed a creek, got wet, and ran again for 2 miles, this time carrying casualties back to the BAS... all these with our M16 in our hands! It could've been easier for us if only we weren't also wearing those damn IBA vests! IBA stands for Interceptor Body Armor and its like our version of the bulletproof vest. It weighs 30 lbs. It was exhausting but we did good because we were the fastest team to get back. The time to beat 11 minutes and 33 seconds, we got back in 10 min and 15 sec. However, it wasn't entirely a good day because I picked a fight with the tallest female in our platoon. Yes, I said fu*k you to her and called her stupid and a bitch. She went off and almost attacked me, but the people around us got in the way. All because she said that I am short and couldn't help her carry the litter well. I call her stupid because she didn't realize that it's actually her fault because when she was holding her litter high on the one side, all the weight slides down on my side, making it hard for me to lift up the litter higher. Usually it takes a lot to piss me off but making me feel as if I'm not helping the team will really tick me off, because I swear, after that, my arms were hurting. Actually, they are still hurting as I type this entry.
Thank God for weekends. Today, I just pigged-out and downloaded stuff from the net. Oh but look, my name's on the fireguard list for the 3am to 5am shift! Oh well, embrace the suck...
11.18.08 Tuesday -- BAS day. BAS stands for Battalion Aid Station and it is one of the 5 lanes that we need to go through during the STX week (Situational Training Exercise). Here, we were taught how to set up a battalion aid station on the field. First, the big tent then the medical materials necessary and how should we arrange them in our tent. Moreover, we also learned where the triage and evacuation points should be located. I was appointed as platoon leader. How I got that position? Well, prior going to the field, we had a short briefing and the sergents in charge asked who were the most quiet people in the class. They pointed out 2 particular people and I was one of them. The other person became Platoon Sergeant. I thought I'm going to get yelled at a lot because of that but it was actually a blessing in disguise because all I did was fill out medical field cards and watch other people run around carrying litters and poking each other's arms with needles.
11.19.08 Wednesday -- Blood Labs day. This, for me, is the best part of STX. On this lane, we have to deal with two different scenarios wherein there were mass casualties: one is we have to enter a building bombed by terrorists and the other is a marketplace in Iraq where there are civilians and military men injured after a suicide bomber killed himself there. The rooms we went into were made to look like our scenarios, only this time, we had to treat dummies connected to a computer. These dummies can breathe (there is rise and fall of the chest), bleed (yes, there is fake blood coming out of their injured parts), and perfuse (there is pulse on the femoral, carotid, and radial arteries). I had two patients, well, uhh, make that three. One was a burn patient, who, by the way, didn't get any treatment from me because he was a burn patient. We don't treat burn patients right away, we just transport them. My second patients were a mother and child. The mother has an amputated arm while the child has a head wound and burns. I treated the mother first. Just right after I finished bandaging the decapitated arm, the bell rang sounded off signaling the end of our mission. I felt horrible for not being able to save the baby!! However, during the counseling, the sergeant in-charge told us that the baby was already dead anyway but he said I should not leave the dead baby there because the mother might refuse treatment once she sees her child like that. Another thing, I should ALWAYS ask the husband, sheik, or any male in the house for permission before I touch any woman in the family... yes, even if she's dying. Even if I saved that woman, she will be stoned to death anyway because her family will consider her unclean. Hey! That's why we don gloves!!
11.20.08 Thursday -- MOUT training (Military Operations in Urban Terrain). This lane includes the techniques of clearing houses or buildings, moving and treating casualties, and rescuing hostages. I was an infantry soldier and I had to pull security at all times. My team leader ordered me to bring the civilians out of the building. When I got out of the house, the sergeant was standing right there and yelled saying that I just got captured by the enemies because I was alone outside, without a battle buddy. Oh yeah, we have this thing called battle buddy system. It simply means we always got to have a same gender companion at all times wherever we go. Anyway, it was fun but not as fun as blood labs. hehe..
11.21.08 Friday -- Combatives Tournament and Patrol day. I joined the combatives tournament because they needed 4 females and 8 males from each platoon and no female wanted to volunteer to join!! My opponent was Lee from 4th ID. We are friends but when we were fighting, it we were feisty! It was a long and tiring. I won, but I swung my right arm the wrong way in my attempt to get out of her grip. Next fight is on monday and it will be against Allsman. I love Allsman!! I don't want to hurt her! Hahaha! But, yeah, I have to kick her ass.
Patrol lane: This lane sucks. We ran for 2 miles on a rocky and steep terrain, crossed a creek, got wet, and ran again for 2 miles, this time carrying casualties back to the BAS... all these with our M16 in our hands! It could've been easier for us if only we weren't also wearing those damn IBA vests! IBA stands for Interceptor Body Armor and its like our version of the bulletproof vest. It weighs 30 lbs. It was exhausting but we did good because we were the fastest team to get back. The time to beat 11 minutes and 33 seconds, we got back in 10 min and 15 sec. However, it wasn't entirely a good day because I picked a fight with the tallest female in our platoon. Yes, I said fu*k you to her and called her stupid and a bitch. She went off and almost attacked me, but the people around us got in the way. All because she said that I am short and couldn't help her carry the litter well. I call her stupid because she didn't realize that it's actually her fault because when she was holding her litter high on the one side, all the weight slides down on my side, making it hard for me to lift up the litter higher. Usually it takes a lot to piss me off but making me feel as if I'm not helping the team will really tick me off, because I swear, after that, my arms were hurting. Actually, they are still hurting as I type this entry.
Thank God for weekends. Today, I just pigged-out and downloaded stuff from the net. Oh but look, my name's on the fireguard list for the 3am to 5am shift! Oh well, embrace the suck...
If Only...
If only you were here, I know you won't be doing the same thing everybody else is doing. You are not going to spend your time and money on alcohol or renting a hotel to get laid by a guy you met in AIT or a bar. Our plans will include going to the museum, a park, or a movie to have clean fun and engage ourselves in conversations about religion, politics, the gift of present and the surprises of the future. At times we will talk about other people, too, to analyze their attitudes and personalities, as well as point out their weaknesses and strengths. However, by the end of the day, we agree that they should not be judged but instead, be understood and accepted. But then again, we will voice out our reasons why we should just ignore them and don't give a damn. After having the exchange of thoughts, we will secretly admire each other for being such good, decent people.
If only you were here, I know you will be one of the best. And you would think the same way about me. That's why I am so disappointed with myself right now, I am only average and I struggled a lot to stay in the game. But I promise, since I couldn't excel academically, I tried hard to make myself stronger physically. I run faster now than I ever did in my entire life. I did 52 push ups and 72 push ups in my final PT test and I dedicate my achievement to all things and persons that inspire me. My list is short and your name sits on top of it.
If you still don't know yet, I love you and I feel like I reached the summit of a high mountain everytime you tell me you love me too. It just feels so great, so wonderful.
I miss you. I miss us.
If only you were here, I know you will be one of the best. And you would think the same way about me. That's why I am so disappointed with myself right now, I am only average and I struggled a lot to stay in the game. But I promise, since I couldn't excel academically, I tried hard to make myself stronger physically. I run faster now than I ever did in my entire life. I did 52 push ups and 72 push ups in my final PT test and I dedicate my achievement to all things and persons that inspire me. My list is short and your name sits on top of it.
If you still don't know yet, I love you and I feel like I reached the summit of a high mountain everytime you tell me you love me too. It just feels so great, so wonderful.
I miss you. I miss us.
Lost On the Day of the Race
It's up! It's up! I passed!
I was about to go downstairs and head to the dining facility to appease my growling stomach, which felt abandoned and neglected after I decided last night that dinner will only include a bottle of Jack Daniels. When I heard the news, instead of exiting Delta bay, I went back to my locker and hurriedly hooked up my computer to the internet. I visited the site where the results were posted and got depressed when I saw the six-letter word sitting at the bottom of my name -- failed.
I was about to go downstairs and head to the dining facility to appease my growling stomach, which felt abandoned and neglected after I decided last night that dinner will only include a bottle of Jack Daniels. When I heard the news, instead of exiting Delta bay, I went back to my locker and hurriedly hooked up my computer to the internet. I visited the site where the results were posted and got depressed when I saw the six-letter word sitting at the bottom of my name -- failed.
This is already the second time I took this exam, and again, flunked it. I am beginning to believe that the medical field isn't where I belong. First of all, I am more of the techie type, and a graduate of a liberal arts course. Needles scare me so bad that I always cover my eyes whenever I see, whether in real life or in movies, people holding syringes and poking other people with it. Then what am I doing here? Why do I have to go through this, when in the first place, signs are everywhere that I should be heading another direction?
Did you pass? It was my battle buddy Edens asking me if I pass the damn test. I looked at her with a smile on my face and said, "I failed"
"Are you serious?"
Without even trying to shut down the Acer laptop I bought on the last day of my basic training at Fort Jackson, I closed my locker and took off my ACU top. I lost my appetite. At that moment, I was thinking, maybe getting drunk again like I did last week will make it less painful. Fool myself into believing that the third time will finally bring the charm. Honestly, I haven't given up yet, but looking up and researching for another MOS will be a good idea.
Many countries in the New World and elsewhere celebrate the anniversary of Christopher Columbus's arrival in the Americas, which occurred on October 12, 1492 in the Julian calendar and October 21, 1492 in the modern Gregorian calendar, as an official holiday. The day is celebrated as Columbus Day in the United States, as Día de la Raza (Day of the Race) in many countries in Latin America, as Día de las Culturas (Day of the Cultures) in Costa Rica, as Discovery Day in The Bahamas, as Día de la Hispanidad (Hispanic Day) and National Day in Spain, and as Día de la Resistencia Indígena (Day of Indigenous Resistance) in Venezuela.
from Wikipedia.Org
Medical Terms
Medical terms of the Week
(Oct 24 - 31 2009)
cluster headache, Horton syndrome
klus'ter hed'ak, horton sindrom
Possibly due to a hypersensitivity to histamine; usually characterized by recurrent, severe, unilateral orbitotemporal headaches associated with ipsilateral photophobia, lacrimation, and nasal congestion. SYN histaminic headache, Horton headache.
tension headache, tension-type headache
ten'shun hed'ak, ten'shun-tip
That associated with nervous tension, and anxiety, often related to chronic scalp muscle contraction. SYN muscle contraction headache.
migraine
mi'gran
A symptom complex occurring periodically and characterized by pain in the head (usually unilateral), vertigo, nausea and vomiting, photophobia, and scintillating appearances of light. SYN hemicrania (1), sick headache.
[through O. Fr., fr. G. hemi- krania, pain on one side of the head, fr. hemi-, half, + kranion, skull]
vertigo
ver'ti-go
1. A sensation of spinning or whirling motion. 2. Imprecisely used as a general term to describe dizziness.
[L. vertigo (vertigin-), dizziness, fr. verto, to turn]
photophobia
fo'to-fo'be-a
Morbid dread and avoidance of light.
[photo- + G. phobos, fear]
-- -- -- -- -- --
Medical terms of the Week
(Oct 4 - 10 2009)
epilepsy, epilepsia, grand mal
ep'i-lep'se, -lepse-a, grawn[h] mahl
A chronic disorder characterized by paroxysmal brain dysfunction due to excessive neuronal discharge; usually associated with some alteration of consciousness; clinical manifestations of the attack may vary from complex abnormalities of behavior including generalized or focal convulsions to momentary spells of impaired consciousness. SYN fit (3), seizure disorder.
[G. epilepsia, seizure]
paroxysm
par'ok-sizm
1. A sharp spasm or convulsion. 2. A sudden onset of a symptom or disease, especially one with recurrent manifestations such as the chills and rigor of malaria.
[G. paroxysmos, fr. paroxyno, to sharpen, irritate, fr. oxys, sharp]
tinea imbricata
tin'e-a im'bri-ka'ta
Fungal eruption consisting with concentric rings of overlapping scales forming papulosquamous patches scattered over the body; seen in tropical climates; caused by Trichophyton concentricum.
papulosquamous
pap'yu-lo-skwa'mus
Denoting an eruption composed of both papules and scales.
[papulo- + L. squamosus, scaly (squamous)]
Trichophyton
tri-kof'i-ton
A genus of pathogenic fungi causing dermatophytosis in humans and animals; species attacks the hair, skin, and nails.
[tricho- + G. phyton, plant]
-- -- -- -- -- --
Medical terms of the Week
(Sept 21-27 2009)
Korsakoff syndrome, Korsakoff psychosis
kor'se-kawf sin'drom, si-ko'sis
An alcohol-related amnestic syndrome characterized by confusion and severe impairment of memory, especially for recent events, for which the patient compensates by confabulation; delirium tremens may precede the syndrome, and Wernicke syndrome often coexists.
Wernicke syndrome
ver'ni-ke sin' drom
A condition frequently encountered in patients with long-term alcoholism, largely due to thiamin deficiency; characterized by disturbances in ocular motility, pupillary alterations, nystagmus, and ataxia with tremors. Also referred to as Wernicke disease and Wernicke encephalopathy.
nystagmus (nyst)
nis-tag'mus
Involuntary rhythmic oscillation of the eyeballs, either pendular or with a slow and fast component.
[G. nystagmos, a nodding, fr. nystazo, to be sleepy, nod]
ataxia, ataxy, autosomal recessive, with deafness and optic atrophy
a-takse-a, a-takse, awto-somal re-sesiv, defnes optik atro-fe
An inability to coordinate muscle activity, causing jerkiness, incoordination, and inefficiency of voluntary movement. SYN incoordination.
[G. a- prov. + taxis, order]
thiamin
thi'a-min
A heat-labile and water-soluble vitamin contained in milk, yeast, and the germ and husk of grains; also artificially synthesized; essential for growth; a deficiency of thiamin is associated with beriberi and Wernicke-Korsakoff syndrome. SYN vitamin B1.
Movie Review: The Mist
 |
| Category: | Movies |
| Genre: | Horror |
This movie is scary not because of monstrous bugs lurking behind an enormous cloud of mist that prefer human flesh as their meal. Well, that kind of plot if imagined happening in real life could be a real hair-raiser, too, but in "The Mist", it was proven that nothing could be more dreadful than being with a flock of fear-drenched and paranoid people who are willing to do virtually anything to survive.
A great film, but it will be self-torture if I choose to watch it all over again. The ending was disappointing, for me, because the main characters whom I expected to go on and find answers stopped when the fuel tank had gone empty and they have a loaded gun to extinguish their power to hope.
Hardcore Bible believers or people who have absolute faith in humanity, think twice before seeing this movie.
Mood after watching this movie: DEPRESSED.
Felt Betrayed By Time (Magazine)
Can't wait for the US presidential election to be over.
Back in my college years, when my tight budget won't allow me to pick up a new issue, I save money to buy back issues of Time and Newsweek. I always learn something from reading these magazines; every issue is a goldmine of information and intellectual ideas.
Now that I have an odd job in this foreign country, I can finally afford a year of subscription to any magazine I want. However, I can only add just ONE more mag to my Redbook, People, and Popular Mechanics collections. I picked Time over Newsweek because I thought the former was better than the latter. As to what my standards were when I made that decision, I don't want to remember anymore. All I can tell you is that I am less mature at that time.
Please Time writers, stop sending me pro-Obama campaign materials!! I had enough when I received your latest issue proclaiming Obama as the winner. So disappointing. I trusted faithfully in you to deliver a fair and balanced reporting (and paid you for it, actually, in case you forgot) and you miserably failed to do it! May I suggest that you also feature the other two candidates even if they can't afford the media exposure... for your integrity's sake?
Back in my college years, when my tight budget won't allow me to pick up a new issue, I save money to buy back issues of Time and Newsweek. I always learn something from reading these magazines; every issue is a goldmine of information and intellectual ideas.
Now that I have an odd job in this foreign country, I can finally afford a year of subscription to any magazine I want. However, I can only add just ONE more mag to my Redbook, People, and Popular Mechanics collections. I picked Time over Newsweek because I thought the former was better than the latter. As to what my standards were when I made that decision, I don't want to remember anymore. All I can tell you is that I am less mature at that time.
Please Time writers, stop sending me pro-Obama campaign materials!! I had enough when I received your latest issue proclaiming Obama as the winner. So disappointing. I trusted faithfully in you to deliver a fair and balanced reporting (and paid you for it, actually, in case you forgot) and you miserably failed to do it! May I suggest that you also feature the other two candidates even if they can't afford the media exposure... for your integrity's sake?
Just Fall
Remember when we used to make gentle steps on the wooden staircase of our old house because the planks are already old and fragile? One wrong move and you will fall down, but I know you won't because I will catch you, or we'll fall together then laugh about it afterwards. Even if there will be bruises on our knees and elbows. Everything back then was so easy to cope with and understand. First we try to be careful. Next, we get ready for the approaching disaster. Last, prevented or not, we shrug it off.
Now that we're older and presumably, more mature, we became too cautious. One action from the other, we overthink and delve into it to look for hidden agenda and real purpose. Anything but appreciate. Is it right? Is it wrong? Should I back off or move forward? Ceaseless flow of questions when in fact, the answers have been laid down on the table long ago, waiting to be recognized as answers. Maybe it's a sign that we're getting smarter, part of which is caring more about ourselves.
Now, we don't directly love anymore. We stop and think, perhaps too much. Calculate the profits, weigh the disadvantages. Blame everyone else but ourselves when we overlooked an opportunity to advance. Life is still like an overused and fragile staircase and we're determined to go to higher grounds, this time, with no regard as to who we are with or who might fall.
Anyway, I just want you to know that whatever happens, I am still willing to catch you, even if you have no plans of returning the favor.
Now that we're older and presumably, more mature, we became too cautious. One action from the other, we overthink and delve into it to look for hidden agenda and real purpose. Anything but appreciate. Is it right? Is it wrong? Should I back off or move forward? Ceaseless flow of questions when in fact, the answers have been laid down on the table long ago, waiting to be recognized as answers. Maybe it's a sign that we're getting smarter, part of which is caring more about ourselves.
Now, we don't directly love anymore. We stop and think, perhaps too much. Calculate the profits, weigh the disadvantages. Blame everyone else but ourselves when we overlooked an opportunity to advance. Life is still like an overused and fragile staircase and we're determined to go to higher grounds, this time, with no regard as to who we are with or who might fall.
Anyway, I just want you to know that whatever happens, I am still willing to catch you, even if you have no plans of returning the favor.
Smithson, OUT!
Tattoos and a good voice don't go well together, at least in America.Take it from Carly Smithson, who wasn't really the worst singer last night but got voted off just the same. Somehow, I have an idea why Ms. Smithson suffered from this misfortune: tattoos are ugly on TV. Come on, if everybody's favorite, and most likely future UN Ambassador of Peace, David Archuleta likewise have dragons and a bleeding heart inked on his arms, I think there will be less annoying girls shrieking like a hyena fucked by a porcupine here on Earth.
Yeah, I know, Smithson looks phony. No matter how hard she tries to smile kindly and look so proper by acting like Mother Teresa's reincarnation, it doesn't look believable. Even if you want to convince yourself that she's a good singer and might be less bitchy than what her tattoos speak loudly of her, you just can't help but cry "she's a phony bitch!". And you'll go, "ooops... did I just call her a phony bitch?"
If it's not the tattoos or the phony look, then her previous album when she was still under MCA was the one to blame. Maybe Americans want justice to reign so they got rid of the pro and let the amateurs take centerstage for a clean and fair fight. However, the burning question is, who's the real amateur among the Top 5 left? Scour the Internet for an answer and you'll stumble upon information that will make you realize that this season of American Idol is the worst so far. I agree that this season has a lot of great talents, probably greater than the previous seasons contestants. However, that doesn't guarantee that it can deliver the most exciting season though. Now where's Sanjaya when you need him?
Yeah, I know, Smithson looks phony. No matter how hard she tries to smile kindly and look so proper by acting like Mother Teresa's reincarnation, it doesn't look believable. Even if you want to convince yourself that she's a good singer and might be less bitchy than what her tattoos speak loudly of her, you just can't help but cry "she's a phony bitch!". And you'll go, "ooops... did I just call her a phony bitch?"
If it's not the tattoos or the phony look, then her previous album when she was still under MCA was the one to blame. Maybe Americans want justice to reign so they got rid of the pro and let the amateurs take centerstage for a clean and fair fight. However, the burning question is, who's the real amateur among the Top 5 left? Scour the Internet for an answer and you'll stumble upon information that will make you realize that this season of American Idol is the worst so far. I agree that this season has a lot of great talents, probably greater than the previous seasons contestants. However, that doesn't guarantee that it can deliver the most exciting season though. Now where's Sanjaya when you need him?
1:45 Is Too Long A Time
I just found out today, though in a very tiring way, that it takes four laps to complete one mile in a standard track. Pressured by time and my frustrations, I struggled in running around the oval for four times. If only air has calories in it, I'd be obese by now with the way I was trying to feed oxygen in to my lungs.
All these dieting and working out are new to me. Back then, I thought the Nutrition Information printed on food labels are there to serve as a sign that what I'm about to put in my mouth has some vitamins or other good stuff in it. Apparently, for a considerable length of time, I was stupid and acted like a retard for having that kind of notion. I didn't know that on those pretty little charts, I could also find the number of calories I have to burn and the amount of fat that would settle at the used-to-be hollow spaces of my tummy, ass, and arms. Who would have thought that my ignorance is to blame for my extra pounds? Now I have to deal with the nasty flabs which miserably failed to disguise themselves as muscles.
And, oh, exercises. Ayayay. When asked what sports I play as part of my healthy lifestyle, which is, of course, non-existing, I cited basketball as my favorite. Truth is, it was almost six years since I last played ball and that was in my last year in high school during a sports event, where I scored two points. The most tiring part was being on the bench and cheering for my team mates who seemed to play better when I'm not inside the court. Anyway, before hitting the track, my recruiter taught us how to do proper sit-ups and push-ups. Obviously, they weren't easy for me but because I really want to join the Army, I pretended to look tired after doing just four sit-ups and half push-up. Nah, just kidding, I really gave it my all. I swear!!
After stretching my rusty muscles, I started my journey to Teaneck High's track. Goal: One mile in ten minutes and thirty seconds. As I was about to begin my trek through the last lap, I heard my recruiter say that I have two minutes left. Of course, I got disappointed again with myself and just wanted to stop and walk away (nope, not run away, I'm way too tired to perform that cliche at that moment) Somehow, a part of me refused to give in to that kind of defeatist attitude. I thought to myself, "let me pass out, I'm sure they'll get some help if ever that happens". Run a little, slow down, walk, run again. That was how I managed to finish my little race against myself and my limits. Although I only managed to cover one mile in 11 minutes and 45 seconds, Sgt. Robinson told me it wasn't bad for a first-timer. That I'll be better in time.
One minute and 45 seconds off the timer. I know it's not something to be really proud of. However, if you're like me who easily gives up when the situation gets too tough to handle, you should be. Congratulations to myself!
All these dieting and working out are new to me. Back then, I thought the Nutrition Information printed on food labels are there to serve as a sign that what I'm about to put in my mouth has some vitamins or other good stuff in it. Apparently, for a considerable length of time, I was stupid and acted like a retard for having that kind of notion. I didn't know that on those pretty little charts, I could also find the number of calories I have to burn and the amount of fat that would settle at the used-to-be hollow spaces of my tummy, ass, and arms. Who would have thought that my ignorance is to blame for my extra pounds? Now I have to deal with the nasty flabs which miserably failed to disguise themselves as muscles.
And, oh, exercises. Ayayay. When asked what sports I play as part of my healthy lifestyle, which is, of course, non-existing, I cited basketball as my favorite. Truth is, it was almost six years since I last played ball and that was in my last year in high school during a sports event, where I scored two points. The most tiring part was being on the bench and cheering for my team mates who seemed to play better when I'm not inside the court. Anyway, before hitting the track, my recruiter taught us how to do proper sit-ups and push-ups. Obviously, they weren't easy for me but because I really want to join the Army, I pretended to look tired after doing just four sit-ups and half push-up. Nah, just kidding, I really gave it my all. I swear!!
After stretching my rusty muscles, I started my journey to Teaneck High's track. Goal: One mile in ten minutes and thirty seconds. As I was about to begin my trek through the last lap, I heard my recruiter say that I have two minutes left. Of course, I got disappointed again with myself and just wanted to stop and walk away (nope, not run away, I'm way too tired to perform that cliche at that moment) Somehow, a part of me refused to give in to that kind of defeatist attitude. I thought to myself, "let me pass out, I'm sure they'll get some help if ever that happens". Run a little, slow down, walk, run again. That was how I managed to finish my little race against myself and my limits. Although I only managed to cover one mile in 11 minutes and 45 seconds, Sgt. Robinson told me it wasn't bad for a first-timer. That I'll be better in time.
One minute and 45 seconds off the timer. I know it's not something to be really proud of. However, if you're like me who easily gives up when the situation gets too tough to handle, you should be. Congratulations to myself!
Keep Walking
I keep on walking, in this place unfamiliar and cold in different ways. With music as my sole companion, and memories as the insatiable fuel. Doors of opportunities swinging wide open, and I'm walking towards one of them, but this time, without the excitement and enthusiasm I once had, that time when all I had was the freedom to dream.
While walking, I am looking back over my shoulder. Hoping to find you there behind me. Praying you will be able to keep up because I won't be able to slow down. Could not. A dream helped shaped by you is waiting to be fulfilled.
I will keep walking. Once you are already here beside me, we will run to catch one door left ajar.
While walking, I am looking back over my shoulder. Hoping to find you there behind me. Praying you will be able to keep up because I won't be able to slow down. Could not. A dream helped shaped by you is waiting to be fulfilled.
I will keep walking. Once you are already here beside me, we will run to catch one door left ajar.
Almost. Nearly. Not Quite.
My negative side needs to speak with you regarding a matter left unclear for years. She is confused and won't accept the explanations contentment was trying hard to tell. I'm telling you, she can be so annoying and unbearable sometimes. Once you answer one question, an awful lot more will follow and extreme irritation is most likely to occur.
She's questioning the ingenuousness of my happiness. According to her, it is all a sham, a mask to cover the pain caused by loneliness and frustrations. I tried to defend myself, telling her love made me this way, turned me into a very understanding person who accepts the decision of my loved ones: their choice to abandon me. Sometimes, one person's absence in another person's life means freedom for both parties. I advised her to chill.
However, the stubbornness is unrelenting. Answers breed more questions. She accused me of being a delusional by thinking that I owned people's hearts. She said it never happened, therefore, the love I feel is useless and blinding. Negativity insisted that I only misinterpreted people's actions and misled my heart to commit in a love which was never really mutual nor reciprocated. That I am in love with a beautiful lie, a fool who can't distinguished a sweet dream from a nightmare. Yes, she is that mean. But I understand and recognize the point she is trying to raise.
If I listen to her, will it be a sign of open-mindedness or imperceptive way of thinking? It is weird how one statement which sounded ridiculous and funny at first turn out to be a thought-provoking idea in the end.
Here comes dark clouds.
She's questioning the ingenuousness of my happiness. According to her, it is all a sham, a mask to cover the pain caused by loneliness and frustrations. I tried to defend myself, telling her love made me this way, turned me into a very understanding person who accepts the decision of my loved ones: their choice to abandon me. Sometimes, one person's absence in another person's life means freedom for both parties. I advised her to chill.
However, the stubbornness is unrelenting. Answers breed more questions. She accused me of being a delusional by thinking that I owned people's hearts. She said it never happened, therefore, the love I feel is useless and blinding. Negativity insisted that I only misinterpreted people's actions and misled my heart to commit in a love which was never really mutual nor reciprocated. That I am in love with a beautiful lie, a fool who can't distinguished a sweet dream from a nightmare. Yes, she is that mean. But I understand and recognize the point she is trying to raise.
If I listen to her, will it be a sign of open-mindedness or imperceptive way of thinking? It is weird how one statement which sounded ridiculous and funny at first turn out to be a thought-provoking idea in the end.
Here comes dark clouds.
Room 311
Lorraine wanted to say something, but couldn't. At first she will give up a smile, then I will encourage her to continue trying to let out the words. After struggling to mumble the words "I", "just", "need", "to", she will stop, to ready herself for the hardest part, saying the remaining of her thoughts.
I will cheer on her, "come on you can do it, Lorraine! I will wait for it!". But her speech defect caused by old age will fail her. Then she'd let go of a sigh, look at me, and smile with sad eyes. The first time we did this, I gave her a pen so she can just write what she wants me to know. She shook her head, a sign that she preferred that I hear it.
It's OK, Lorraine, I'll come to your room again tomorrow, I'll wait for it.
For a week now, I have been walking out of 311 with eyes holding back tears and a heavy heart. Maybe when she's gone, I could forget the way she reaches for my hand even if I can offer no help. Maybe I'll get used to such situations and stop caring like this. Apathy can kill, but caring sometimes can be too torturous.
I will cheer on her, "come on you can do it, Lorraine! I will wait for it!". But her speech defect caused by old age will fail her. Then she'd let go of a sigh, look at me, and smile with sad eyes. The first time we did this, I gave her a pen so she can just write what she wants me to know. She shook her head, a sign that she preferred that I hear it.
It's OK, Lorraine, I'll come to your room again tomorrow, I'll wait for it.
For a week now, I have been walking out of 311 with eyes holding back tears and a heavy heart. Maybe when she's gone, I could forget the way she reaches for my hand even if I can offer no help. Maybe I'll get used to such situations and stop caring like this. Apathy can kill, but caring sometimes can be too torturous.
Dollars Can't Buy Me Jeans
Time check, 11:16PM. Technically, it's still St. Patrick's day. My small wardrobe collection didn't permit me to wear green today, and my dirty mind is something I am not comfortable showing off, even the occasion calls for it. The alcohol, too, is simply out of sight because, yeah, I'm not Irish (and my Mom would surely flip out once she found out that I'm considering drinking) At work, I am this stupid-looking newbie who smiles a lot and avoids conversations because I am not good at small talks. I wanted to say something funny but I better not, because my humor borders on sarcasm and I've only been there for less than a month. Grim humor and budding relationships don't mix well in a professional environment.
All these mean one thing: this day is ordinary. Hold it there. Maybe it wasn't the day which is ordinary. Maybe I'm just not putting enough effort to turn a day into a 24 hour-long magical moment. I am stuck in this frame of mind where I think I am a failure because somebody is making me feel that way. It's crazy how I think everything is a mess, when in fact, the only problem is that I think too many problems complicate my life. So much of a mess that I don't know where to start patching, and how. I'm always afraid that something more terrible will happen, and that I won't be ready to face it. That's it, I'm creating my own monsters and arming them with the idea on how to defeat me. It's like locking myself up in a dungeon to engage in a futile battle with my own demons. And I am seeking help, only I am not shouting for rescue, just whispering... and I don't know why. It's insane.
Good thing my savior comes in during the times I hit the rock bottom. With cheery messages and a smile that says "I understand, and will be here for you." Even without me explaining anything, just instant acceptance and arms wrapped around my worn out body to reassure that nothing changed, I still have a space in your heart. I miss the warmth of your touch. With your insatiable and unconditional love, each day is St. Patrick's day for me. I am so lucky just having you in my life.
Too bad, these dollars can't buy me jeans.
All these mean one thing: this day is ordinary. Hold it there. Maybe it wasn't the day which is ordinary. Maybe I'm just not putting enough effort to turn a day into a 24 hour-long magical moment. I am stuck in this frame of mind where I think I am a failure because somebody is making me feel that way. It's crazy how I think everything is a mess, when in fact, the only problem is that I think too many problems complicate my life. So much of a mess that I don't know where to start patching, and how. I'm always afraid that something more terrible will happen, and that I won't be ready to face it. That's it, I'm creating my own monsters and arming them with the idea on how to defeat me. It's like locking myself up in a dungeon to engage in a futile battle with my own demons. And I am seeking help, only I am not shouting for rescue, just whispering... and I don't know why. It's insane.
Good thing my savior comes in during the times I hit the rock bottom. With cheery messages and a smile that says "I understand, and will be here for you." Even without me explaining anything, just instant acceptance and arms wrapped around my worn out body to reassure that nothing changed, I still have a space in your heart. I miss the warmth of your touch. With your insatiable and unconditional love, each day is St. Patrick's day for me. I am so lucky just having you in my life.
Too bad, these dollars can't buy me jeans.
So Corny You Will Need Butter
In my entire life, I never had anything fancy or expensive. Until now, you can see me wearing the same clothes I had five years ago. I collect other people's garbage, stuff they throw away which are working fine but are old. I was only introduced to Starbucks at 18, tasted it at 19, bought one for myself at 20, and realized that it was overrated by the time I reached 21. And, yeah, I am saying this because I don't have the money to spare for flavored coffees. Plain caffeine will do.
You could say that I am ordinary. If you give me a make-up kit, I would know which tool goes to the lips, brows, lashes and face but sorry, I wouldn't know how to handle and apply any of them. Don't worry, I do comb my hair.
Also, I don't believe I am as smart as my friends think I am. Maybe I am just good at pretending to be smart. The truth is, I just know a little about everything, and that helps. So my advice to those who are planning to look smart and sound smart? Have a general idea about anything and everything and you will do just fine. However, expect intelligent people to see through the mask. One of my professors once called me "Jack of All Trades, Master of None" because he noticed. He is one of the few, real smart people out there.
No money, no fame, no ms. big brain -- in short, I am a nobody. Even my mom think I am a loser because I don't earn as much money as she does. What pisses her off more is the fact that I am not bothered by it; that I don't take life so seriously and it looks like I'm not chasing the more profitable opportunities... that I am a disappointment.
I feel bad because I want my mom to be proud of me, and the set of principles and values that shaped me. I feel bad for not having enough strengths to make it to the top. I feel bad because I am not sorry, and will never regret taking the road less traveled. I feel bad because there are people who are upset with me because I can't act and think the same way they do.
It's a good thing there are those who still think I am special even in the presence of my intolerable weaknesses. Thank you for trying to see me in a different light and keeping me inspired at times I wanted to quit and give up on my dreams. Thank you for making me feel special even I don't have and know much. I love you everyday.
You could say that I am ordinary. If you give me a make-up kit, I would know which tool goes to the lips, brows, lashes and face but sorry, I wouldn't know how to handle and apply any of them. Don't worry, I do comb my hair.
Also, I don't believe I am as smart as my friends think I am. Maybe I am just good at pretending to be smart. The truth is, I just know a little about everything, and that helps. So my advice to those who are planning to look smart and sound smart? Have a general idea about anything and everything and you will do just fine. However, expect intelligent people to see through the mask. One of my professors once called me "Jack of All Trades, Master of None" because he noticed. He is one of the few, real smart people out there.
No money, no fame, no ms. big brain -- in short, I am a nobody. Even my mom think I am a loser because I don't earn as much money as she does. What pisses her off more is the fact that I am not bothered by it; that I don't take life so seriously and it looks like I'm not chasing the more profitable opportunities... that I am a disappointment.
I feel bad because I want my mom to be proud of me, and the set of principles and values that shaped me. I feel bad for not having enough strengths to make it to the top. I feel bad because I am not sorry, and will never regret taking the road less traveled. I feel bad because there are people who are upset with me because I can't act and think the same way they do.
It's a good thing there are those who still think I am special even in the presence of my intolerable weaknesses. Thank you for trying to see me in a different light and keeping me inspired at times I wanted to quit and give up on my dreams. Thank you for making me feel special even I don't have and know much. I love you everyday.
