This is not written out of bitterness. Maybe out of wrath because I am a pathetic loser of your game. Maybe out of self-pity because I fell so deep in love with your lies. Or maybe out of confusion because you made me feel two ambivalent emotions, that of the extremes of love and hate.
You will get yours someday, worse than the kind of pain I am feeling right now. Worse than your little brain could ever imagine.
I just wish that someday, your partner (your 2nd and the... 11th, 12th or 13th?) who, I believe, you fell in love with while your eyes were closed, will not leave you (that means **** would have to stay as dumb as he is right now) even if he found out about your dirtty extra-curricular activities.
Fool him. Fool yourself believing that you've moved on from that heartache where your bestfriend was the traitor. I'm leaving your sick old childish games. Finally, you gave me a reason to take back all the good things I said about you... You don't deserve all those praises. You've hurt too many people... enough reason for you not to be happy.
Well, I know you're not really happy now anyway. Still living a lie, eh?
Perfect blog title? Swak? Wait for my next posts... things might get a little bit nastier than this.
LONGER
I missed her again, even if I can't remember her face anymore because it has been more than three months since the last time I saw her. But that doesn't matter. I don't need to remember her face, it really wasn't all that pretty and unforgettable. There is something about her that caught my attention and I know it isn't just her face.
Still wondering. Why can't I forget her? I've forgiven her... or maybe not, because there's really nothing to apologize for. I was hurt, but whether it was caused by her or self-inflicted isn't really important to know anymore. I will still feel the pain. I will still be wishing for her to come back and be my friend.
And when that day arrived, I will ask her to stay, longer than she intends to,
longer than I expect her to,
longer than she thinks I want her to,
longer than I wished for,
longer than the destined duration for her to be beside me...
longer than forever.
Still wondering. Why can't I forget her? I've forgiven her... or maybe not, because there's really nothing to apologize for. I was hurt, but whether it was caused by her or self-inflicted isn't really important to know anymore. I will still feel the pain. I will still be wishing for her to come back and be my friend.
And when that day arrived, I will ask her to stay, longer than she intends to,
longer than I expect her to,
longer than she thinks I want her to,
longer than I wished for,
longer than the destined duration for her to be beside me...
longer than forever.
time for transformation
maybe it's time for some changes.. not just minor ones, I'm talking about a full transformation. Ron told me, because she heard me telling to doms about the incident of seeing kermit's best friend at school, that if I want something to happen, I just can't leave it all to chance. I've heard it all before, that I'm too slow or I'm not too aggressive in getting the things I want. I'm not insistent enough. I complicate things which are a no-brainer to others. In short, it takes me sooo long before I act on something that the right time to do it already passed.
I need to change. I want to change, really, but I really don't know how and where to start. I was afraid to change before because I want acceptance. But from what I have noticed, people don't really care if you change, as long as they could still benefit from you. They won't care if you shift your style of humor from witty to sarcastic as long as you can still make them laugh. They won't care if I post negative things about other people on my site as long as it isn't them I'm talking shit about. They don't care and they won't give a damn unless it has something to do with them.
Now, I'm going to change.
I will change. I still don't know how and where I'm going to start but I'm telling you, you'll notice it and you only have two choices: love me or hate me.
I need to change. I want to change, really, but I really don't know how and where to start. I was afraid to change before because I want acceptance. But from what I have noticed, people don't really care if you change, as long as they could still benefit from you. They won't care if you shift your style of humor from witty to sarcastic as long as you can still make them laugh. They won't care if I post negative things about other people on my site as long as it isn't them I'm talking shit about. They don't care and they won't give a damn unless it has something to do with them.
Now, I'm going to change.
I will change. I still don't know how and where I'm going to start but I'm telling you, you'll notice it and you only have two choices: love me or hate me.
ending the frustration...
yesterday, I invited a few friends to come over at our place to celebrate with us, because my brother just got married. Apparently, they have more important things to attend to - kim, his scheduled volleyball game; jean, her thesis; leo and jake, their classes. I texted the others but maybe, they were so busy that they can't afford to lose even a few seconds of their time to text back. Even Dave didn't make it because Sir Hec ordered him to re-tally the answers in the thesis survey returns. I got depressed... not because of their absence at the party, but because I remembered Kermit again, and have managed to come up with bitter realizations.
If only things were the same as before, I know Kermit will be there. The only one who will be there. That's the exact reason I love Kermit so much, she finds ways to be there for me. You can say that I'm being irrational because what was missed, after all, was just a party. You may not know this, but when I need to go to a particular place, she would always offer herself as company. Throughout my life, no other person did something like that for me. Nobody could claim that they missed the more important things to be there for me. Nobody but Kermit. So even if my heart is still suffering from an excruciating pain her reckless abandon have caused, I won't let people ostracize her for being a heartbreaker that she is. She deserve some credits.
This is not an attempt to bring back what was lost. I'm not hoping to gain back the relationship I had with Kermit. Honestly, I don't want her back. What's done is done, just move on and don't regret it. I don't miss the person, only her actions. Remember that line from Matchbox 20's "Last Beautiful Girl"? The one that you wrecked won't take you back...
Another thing, why is it so easy to say "no" to me? Kermit said "no" to me, people I invited said "no" to me. As I recall happenings in the past, I noticed that there are more rejections of my propositions than acceptance. Is it an "oh, it's just racquel" thing? I got the message - I'm not that important. Yes, I'm venting out. I'm tired of keeping to myself my negative observations. Let truth be known, I'm more sensitive and less understanding than you think I am. Or you could say that I'm just a damaged person. Damaged by people's insensitivity to my needs. It's all so disappointing.
My report is about social groups in our soc anthro class. According to what I've read, a group can be classified as Primary or Secondary. A primary group's end is to strenghthen the tie that binds them, therefore, improvement of relationship. A secondary group builds a relationship because they want to achive a certain goal, therefore, strenghtening the tie is just a mean to an end. Why am I telling these things here? simple. from what I observed, the people whom I thought I have primary relationships with showed signs that my relationship with them is just a secondary one.
I understand that the people I expected and trusted to be there for me were doing the 'more important' things in their lives. They need to do those things. Ok, let me pretend I perfectly understand it. It's not you guys, I'm just so lost right now... I wish you have an idea about it. If you do, you'll perfectly understand too why I'm behaving like this...
People said I lost some pounds... I actually did. From 160 lbs last january, I now weigh less than 150. The secret? Everytime I wake up, it's already the thought of kermit occupying my head. Appetite lost. I'll eat a little in the morning then go on with my day. In the afternoon, my stomach already hurts but I won't feel it. Why? Because my heart hurts more. When I get home at night, I'll play badminton with my brother because it keeps my mind away from reliving the bitter sweet memories. My body's so weak but I feel weaker inside. I can't turn to food and rest for salvation... what I need is something money can't buy... and she's so far away.
I hope the drama ends here. I'm tired... so tired.
If only things were the same as before, I know Kermit will be there. The only one who will be there. That's the exact reason I love Kermit so much, she finds ways to be there for me. You can say that I'm being irrational because what was missed, after all, was just a party. You may not know this, but when I need to go to a particular place, she would always offer herself as company. Throughout my life, no other person did something like that for me. Nobody could claim that they missed the more important things to be there for me. Nobody but Kermit. So even if my heart is still suffering from an excruciating pain her reckless abandon have caused, I won't let people ostracize her for being a heartbreaker that she is. She deserve some credits.
This is not an attempt to bring back what was lost. I'm not hoping to gain back the relationship I had with Kermit. Honestly, I don't want her back. What's done is done, just move on and don't regret it. I don't miss the person, only her actions. Remember that line from Matchbox 20's "Last Beautiful Girl"? The one that you wrecked won't take you back...
Another thing, why is it so easy to say "no" to me? Kermit said "no" to me, people I invited said "no" to me. As I recall happenings in the past, I noticed that there are more rejections of my propositions than acceptance. Is it an "oh, it's just racquel" thing? I got the message - I'm not that important. Yes, I'm venting out. I'm tired of keeping to myself my negative observations. Let truth be known, I'm more sensitive and less understanding than you think I am. Or you could say that I'm just a damaged person. Damaged by people's insensitivity to my needs. It's all so disappointing.
My report is about social groups in our soc anthro class. According to what I've read, a group can be classified as Primary or Secondary. A primary group's end is to strenghthen the tie that binds them, therefore, improvement of relationship. A secondary group builds a relationship because they want to achive a certain goal, therefore, strenghtening the tie is just a mean to an end. Why am I telling these things here? simple. from what I observed, the people whom I thought I have primary relationships with showed signs that my relationship with them is just a secondary one.
I understand that the people I expected and trusted to be there for me were doing the 'more important' things in their lives. They need to do those things. Ok, let me pretend I perfectly understand it. It's not you guys, I'm just so lost right now... I wish you have an idea about it. If you do, you'll perfectly understand too why I'm behaving like this...
People said I lost some pounds... I actually did. From 160 lbs last january, I now weigh less than 150. The secret? Everytime I wake up, it's already the thought of kermit occupying my head. Appetite lost. I'll eat a little in the morning then go on with my day. In the afternoon, my stomach already hurts but I won't feel it. Why? Because my heart hurts more. When I get home at night, I'll play badminton with my brother because it keeps my mind away from reliving the bitter sweet memories. My body's so weak but I feel weaker inside. I can't turn to food and rest for salvation... what I need is something money can't buy... and she's so far away.
I hope the drama ends here. I'm tired... so tired.
Surprise! Surprise!
Papasok ako kanina sa aking iskul nang mamataan ko ang isang pamilyar na mukha. Nakadama ako ng panandaliang paghinto ng pintig ng puso at pagbalik nito, mas mabilis na kaysa sa normal. Nakita ko si Kris, ang bespren ni *toot*... napangiti na lang ako. Dati kasi, nung mga panahong maraming tanong sa isip ko tungkol sa biglaang pagkawala (o pag-alis) ni tae, gustong gusto kong makita si Kris. May mga pagkakataon pa ngang tumatambay ako sa Freedom park para lang hintayin ang kanyang pagdaan. Gumawa pa ko ng sulat para kay tae dahil alam kong halos araw-araw silang kung magkita. Pero kanina...
Dumaan lang ako sa harapan nya. Hindi ko alam kung nakita nya ko... kasama ko kasi ang kaklase ko sa P.E nun kaya hindi ko na rin nagawa pa siyang lapitan. Midterm exam kasi namin sa P.E.
Dumaan muna ako sa opisina ni Doms para ibalita ang nangyari. Sabi ko sa kanya, gusto kong lapitan si Kris, pero may posibilidad kasi na hindi nya rin ako kausapin (baka tulad din sya ni tae). Wala naman syang masyadong reaksyon, sabi nya lang, "bakit hindi mo lapitan?" sagot ko, "hindi na rin yata kasi ako interesado malaman pa ung mga bagay na gusto kong malaman noon eh.." dumating si Jen at iniwan ko na sila.
Pumunta kaming ARH bldg dahil doon daw kami mag-eexam. 4th floor un kaya nag elevator na kami. Pagpasok ko, nandun si Kris. Nginitian nya ko, nginitian ko din naman sya, pero yun lang. Hindi nya gusto magsalita, ayoko rin namang magsimula. Alam ko marami syang alam. She knows the answers to all of my questions. Sadly, I'm not interested in knowing the answers anymore.
I'm happy. I thought seeing Kris will be like facing the King of Pain again. I was wrong. I actually felt as if I'm the one who should be asked a lot of questions. "Ok k n b?" "Kumusta ka na?" Hehe. Ma-feeling lang?
Ang gaan ng loob ko. Ang gaan-gaan ng feeling. Uy, itutuloy nyang ikanta yan... hehe.
Dumaan lang ako sa harapan nya. Hindi ko alam kung nakita nya ko... kasama ko kasi ang kaklase ko sa P.E nun kaya hindi ko na rin nagawa pa siyang lapitan. Midterm exam kasi namin sa P.E.
Dumaan muna ako sa opisina ni Doms para ibalita ang nangyari. Sabi ko sa kanya, gusto kong lapitan si Kris, pero may posibilidad kasi na hindi nya rin ako kausapin (baka tulad din sya ni tae). Wala naman syang masyadong reaksyon, sabi nya lang, "bakit hindi mo lapitan?" sagot ko, "hindi na rin yata kasi ako interesado malaman pa ung mga bagay na gusto kong malaman noon eh.." dumating si Jen at iniwan ko na sila.
Pumunta kaming ARH bldg dahil doon daw kami mag-eexam. 4th floor un kaya nag elevator na kami. Pagpasok ko, nandun si Kris. Nginitian nya ko, nginitian ko din naman sya, pero yun lang. Hindi nya gusto magsalita, ayoko rin namang magsimula. Alam ko marami syang alam. She knows the answers to all of my questions. Sadly, I'm not interested in knowing the answers anymore.
I'm happy. I thought seeing Kris will be like facing the King of Pain again. I was wrong. I actually felt as if I'm the one who should be asked a lot of questions. "Ok k n b?" "Kumusta ka na?" Hehe. Ma-feeling lang?
Ang gaan ng loob ko. Ang gaan-gaan ng feeling. Uy, itutuloy nyang ikanta yan... hehe.
I Wanna Be Bad...
Lately, I have running out of realizations. Finally, I got tired of thinking. But instead of feeling relaxed, I've become more restless. I have no more interest in making sense of the happenings that go on in my life. Tired of figuring out the meanings, God's purpose and possible reasons why things happen. For one moment, I decided that I shouldn't always be understanding... that more often than not, I am the victim of other people's irrationality, so why not choose to become the predator this time? Yes, I'm tired of being nice and kind because I noticed that being such is only allowing myself to be the target of other people's cruelty. Why should I even be one? I'm not after that promised heaven anyway because never did I imagine myself flying around with fluffy wings, dressed in some pristine white clothing. I don't even know if I will ever be ready to face God... I think nice people are nice because they are after these rewards. Being God-fearing is typical characteristic of nice people. If you know someone who isn't God-fearing but is nice and kind, tell me coz I'm interested in meeting my own kind. hehe.
So, I want to be mean... where do I start? Oh, backstabbing. The favorite hobby of the people around me. But wait, I think I'm already exercising that, and I'm actually good at it! I can actually point out every weaknesses of all people I know. I'm that good! I have one question though, what if I do have something good to say about each and everyone too? That would make me an appreciative backstabber, right? I know there are people out there who are aware of the backstabbing I do behind their backs, I dare them to step forward and ask for confirmation. I'll tell them the truth. I backstab not because I want to make an ugly portrayal of their being in front of others, I backstab because I know these people can't accept the truth and it would hurt them too badly that they'll start defending themselves, denying and doing counter-attacks. Chaos is an outcome which I'm not interested to witness or be a part of. What I am doing is only discussing to other people one's attitude (not the person per se) and try to find out if they have the same observation about the person. Therefore, even if you call that backstabbing, I won't feel guilt because my moral fiber tells me with conviction that it is not. Backstabbing is calling someone a bitch just because you don't have the same hot body and is therefore not receiving the same amount of attention that bitch receives! Backstabbing is ridiculing your classmate behind her back by spilling that she has B.O but you never really tried to mention it to her because all your answers in all exams were taken from the test paper of that smelly but brainy classmate of yours! Backstabbing only happens when you make someone believe that he/she is your friend when in reality, the friendship you claim to exist is only lip-service. The element of betrayal of trust should exist first before you can qualify it as backstabbing. For the sake of the self-righteous and dogmatic readers of this entry (who are probably backstabbers in some ways or in some days), you don't have to agree with me. Call me a backstabber anytime you like. Anytime.. you can do it upfront or... behind my back... :)
I wanna be bad. I wanna be harsh and mean. I wanna be hated by many. Be a modern day Hitler. Bully the bullies. Belittle those who pretend to be smart. Make the heartbreakers cry some tears too. Embarass those who don't know how to show respect. Spit on the dirt-free faces of the posers and hypocrites. backstab the backstabbers. hate evil.
Gee, what an evil plan. bwahahaha!
So, I want to be mean... where do I start? Oh, backstabbing. The favorite hobby of the people around me. But wait, I think I'm already exercising that, and I'm actually good at it! I can actually point out every weaknesses of all people I know. I'm that good! I have one question though, what if I do have something good to say about each and everyone too? That would make me an appreciative backstabber, right? I know there are people out there who are aware of the backstabbing I do behind their backs, I dare them to step forward and ask for confirmation. I'll tell them the truth. I backstab not because I want to make an ugly portrayal of their being in front of others, I backstab because I know these people can't accept the truth and it would hurt them too badly that they'll start defending themselves, denying and doing counter-attacks. Chaos is an outcome which I'm not interested to witness or be a part of. What I am doing is only discussing to other people one's attitude (not the person per se) and try to find out if they have the same observation about the person. Therefore, even if you call that backstabbing, I won't feel guilt because my moral fiber tells me with conviction that it is not. Backstabbing is calling someone a bitch just because you don't have the same hot body and is therefore not receiving the same amount of attention that bitch receives! Backstabbing is ridiculing your classmate behind her back by spilling that she has B.O but you never really tried to mention it to her because all your answers in all exams were taken from the test paper of that smelly but brainy classmate of yours! Backstabbing only happens when you make someone believe that he/she is your friend when in reality, the friendship you claim to exist is only lip-service. The element of betrayal of trust should exist first before you can qualify it as backstabbing. For the sake of the self-righteous and dogmatic readers of this entry (who are probably backstabbers in some ways or in some days), you don't have to agree with me. Call me a backstabber anytime you like. Anytime.. you can do it upfront or... behind my back... :)
I wanna be bad. I wanna be harsh and mean. I wanna be hated by many. Be a modern day Hitler. Bully the bullies. Belittle those who pretend to be smart. Make the heartbreakers cry some tears too. Embarass those who don't know how to show respect. Spit on the dirt-free faces of the posers and hypocrites. backstab the backstabbers. hate evil.
Gee, what an evil plan. bwahahaha!
My Love
It's ok.. if you have decided long ago, even before you met me, that your heart will belong to somebody else, or will be shared only to a fortunate few, which doesn't include me. It's ok if you could only let me watch them come and go, as long as they make you really happy. It's ok if you'll hold my hand only to let go of it once they're already around, because I completely understand the fact that it's worse losing them than losing me. It's ok if you think that I will leave you because I want you just for myself... but you should not fool yourself into believing that I'd be that shallow. I will be here for you, no matter what... just don't close the door if your room's already full and reserve a little space for a love that can be so great. My Love.
I could not really ask for more. You helped me get through the heartbreak that almost killed me, figuratively speaking. With your presence, I was out of the dumps, I found my worth that I almost believe I never had. You saved me... and made me realize that I could not be the savior all the time. I thought it's wrong to be weak, but it's really ok to be like that if it's you who is destined to show up and teach me the right way to be strong. And strength cannot be measured by how long you could hold back the tears or how soon you could forget the person who hurt you... strength is being ready for tomorrow without regretting whatever happened in the past. I consider my past a struggle to be here, the now. And right now, I feel so blessed because you made the present worth all the wait and pain. You, My Love.
I could not really ask for more. You helped me get through the heartbreak that almost killed me, figuratively speaking. With your presence, I was out of the dumps, I found my worth that I almost believe I never had. You saved me... and made me realize that I could not be the savior all the time. I thought it's wrong to be weak, but it's really ok to be like that if it's you who is destined to show up and teach me the right way to be strong. And strength cannot be measured by how long you could hold back the tears or how soon you could forget the person who hurt you... strength is being ready for tomorrow without regretting whatever happened in the past. I consider my past a struggle to be here, the now. And right now, I feel so blessed because you made the present worth all the wait and pain. You, My Love.
Famous Last Words...
…I’m not ready yet? Nope. I’m not trying to write another entry with passages of a song, I’ll just be using Jars of Clay’s song title to describe the words “thought so” because indeed, those were the famous last words of, uhmm, wait, I know the person I’m talking about here is not really into reading blogs, but people who knew us both might take a peek so I might as well give that person a codename. Let’s try Kermit. Hahaha! (Hmm.. bakit kaya?! Hehe!) Ayun, si Kermit nga. Those were Kermit’s famous last words. Y’know what, Kermit? You should’ve just told me all the upsetting, unspoken words in your mind because, after all, I knew they were disappointing anyway. What’s the use of keeping it all inside when I already read it in your eyes the last time we spent time together? Too bad, I won’t have the chance to thank you personally for all the changes you brought into my life. You were the sweetest person who walked into my life… yep, past tense. I always thought you were the best that I even thought of welcoming you again if ever you decide to come back. But I guess our friendship never really mattered to you because you left just like that. I understand you, we only met last June and our friendship wasn’t fully developed. 6 months may not be enough for you to consider exchanging of formal, heartfelt goodbyes if ever you needed a moment of solitude; to organize your life on your own or without me in it. It never really occurred to me that it was just 6 months that we’ve known each other because it felt as if we’ve known each other for years! Ok, my fault. A wonderful thought like that, even how wonderful it is, is a step outside the boundaries of reality. Truth is, it was just 6 months for you, already 6 months for me.
I’m not waiting for you anymore. Waiting is a form a suicide, if I may quote a line from ate vanna’s poem. When you left, I thought my world has ended. But I realized that only in the dictionary that the words end and beginning are antonyms, because if we are to use them in life situations, they can be synonymous terms. When you ended something between us, something actually began. You departure was an indispensable element to the start of that something. I just hope that something good already began in your life.
I’m not waiting for you anymore. Waiting is a form a suicide, if I may quote a line from ate vanna’s poem. When you left, I thought my world has ended. But I realized that only in the dictionary that the words end and beginning are antonyms, because if we are to use them in life situations, they can be synonymous terms. When you ended something between us, something actually began. You departure was an indispensable element to the start of that something. I just hope that something good already began in your life.
One Last Wonderful Day
Friday night, I was at the LRT Recto station waiting for the next train to Santolan when I saw a woman carrying a child on her arms. She was talking with the security guards and though I’m not really interested in what they were talking about, I had an earshot of their conversation because I’m only a few steps away from them. The lady with the child said: “Sabi kasi nila patay na, e nasa palengke pa ako nun kaya nagmadali na lang ako umuwi, tapos nung dumating ako dumilat pa sya, kaya heto dinala ko agad.” I was intrigued so I looked again at the child who I barely noticed when I arrived there. I was taken aback by the sight of the little girl on the woman’s arms. The child is really, and I mean really, thin. How thin? Put your two fingers together and you’re already having a glimpse of her arm. I’m not being pessimistic here when I say that that child would only have but a few months to live with the kind of body she has. I turned my eyes away from the unbearable display of life’s reality and preoccupied my mind with other thoughts. I don’t want to stare a long time like what other people did. By staring at the mother and child, they thought they could show that they care, but I think watching people in such pitiful condition only shows the incapability of most of us to offer a help that is really needed because we conceive sympathy as a valuable aid when in fact it is not. I always refuse to sympathize, believing that I’m only allowing one to go for a dip in a drowning pool of self-pity when I try to commiserate. Anyway, thank God it’s already the last station and I managed not to look at the subject of murmurs and stares in the train. I decided to let the others go first to avoid having the glimpse of that little girl, but when I was about to go down the stairs, I saw the little girl. She saw me too. Our eyes met. I turned my back because my eyes welled with tears. I couldn’t control the crying. I cried not because I pitied her frail body or because of the idea that one mother will lose a child anytime soon. I cried because I didn’t see any sign of unhappiness or pain in the child’s eyes. I’m not saying that she was otherwise, but I think what I saw was acceptance of fate, that she is ready to let go.
I entitled this “One Last Wonderful Day” because that’s what I prayed to God for them. I asked Him to give the child one last wonderful day here on earth before He decides to carry the child on his loving arms up in heaven.
I entitled this “One Last Wonderful Day” because that’s what I prayed to God for them. I asked Him to give the child one last wonderful day here on earth before He decides to carry the child on his loving arms up in heaven.
Huhu.. From Ate Vanna's Site... huhu talaga
Do i have to kiss everyone?
your words and actions
breeds more question everytime,
you are a comfort to mebut you rock the boat.
you soothe the old wounds
but somehow preparing me for new ones,
what are we to each other?
when i say i can't be brave enough
to tell you how i feel
would you take the leap?
If you'd only let me know
that the hand you offer is indeed for me,
i would not hesitateto cross a green light.
For now, we're sitting on the fence
wasting time
pretending to be "just friends".
your words and actions
breeds more question everytime,
you are a comfort to mebut you rock the boat.
you soothe the old wounds
but somehow preparing me for new ones,
what are we to each other?
when i say i can't be brave enough
to tell you how i feel
would you take the leap?
If you'd only let me know
that the hand you offer is indeed for me,
i would not hesitateto cross a green light.
For now, we're sitting on the fence
wasting time
pretending to be "just friends".
Somebody Frustrates Me...
Some people just don't know how to control their emotions. I wish they could. I'm not saying that one should just keep his emotions all inside him, what I'm saying is, learn how to express them in a way not burdensome to others. Be a master of your emotions and not become a slave to them. Heck, I also feel frustrations and heartaches, but never did I try to tell the whole world about it. WHy should I? So people could offer pity or sympathy? Do I really need them? Hell no.
I admit that loneliness could sometime cause me to beg for attention or love from others but I only do it so they could help me get rid of the loneliness by means of appreciating each other's imperfections. Other people want to get rid of their miseries by projecting nice, presentable masks to their target potential friends so they will look more acceptable. True, people will buy the nice, presentable masks but only for a short time. WHy? Because humans have instincts - they could see through the masks and sooner or later, they will find out that behind the mask is a worn-out face trying to please everybody. If your target potential friend is a great person, he would choose to stay to help you get through the crisis, but if not, he'll leave you on the side of the road, nodding his head and saying to himself... "I wish you could've just shown the real you..."
I admit that loneliness could sometime cause me to beg for attention or love from others but I only do it so they could help me get rid of the loneliness by means of appreciating each other's imperfections. Other people want to get rid of their miseries by projecting nice, presentable masks to their target potential friends so they will look more acceptable. True, people will buy the nice, presentable masks but only for a short time. WHy? Because humans have instincts - they could see through the masks and sooner or later, they will find out that behind the mask is a worn-out face trying to please everybody. If your target potential friend is a great person, he would choose to stay to help you get through the crisis, but if not, he'll leave you on the side of the road, nodding his head and saying to himself... "I wish you could've just shown the real you..."
They Deserve This...
This is sad. I think I still can't make up my mind about some things even if I am suffering... even if other people around me are also suffering. As usual, I'm trying to be vague as much as possible, just to conceal things that nobody really need to know.
You say you can see through me. you claimed you care. but like the other people who came, you are bound to leave. so don't blame me if I do things that could hurt you. I'd rather hurt you to make you leave earlier than you intend to stay because it will lessen the misery you are about to leave behind.
There you are, waving your hand at me. A signal I can't understand. I guess all your likes pose that kind of signals because you are uncertain yet you can't resist the thought of a new lover promising a new way of showing affection. Reality check... maybe you are just bored. I hate people who use other people as a form of scapegoat from boredom.
And you... yeah, you young debonaire. I hate your guts. I hate players. I hate you. But... too bad, you'll never get to know it. I'm usually not good in acting, but if it's your show, I'll give you one hell of a performer. You're my idol, I learned so much from you. Thanks for teaching me how to play the role of a perfect deceiver. You are fake. I will be fake. Why try truth? People around us seem to buy more of the lies rather than truth. We are young, right? WE don't need truth. Maybe not this time.
You, my reader, think twice before you act. I'm damaged, that's why I'm saying these things. This is my way of killing anger. Please don't try my style. I have not been successful in this.
You say you can see through me. you claimed you care. but like the other people who came, you are bound to leave. so don't blame me if I do things that could hurt you. I'd rather hurt you to make you leave earlier than you intend to stay because it will lessen the misery you are about to leave behind.
There you are, waving your hand at me. A signal I can't understand. I guess all your likes pose that kind of signals because you are uncertain yet you can't resist the thought of a new lover promising a new way of showing affection. Reality check... maybe you are just bored. I hate people who use other people as a form of scapegoat from boredom.
And you... yeah, you young debonaire. I hate your guts. I hate players. I hate you. But... too bad, you'll never get to know it. I'm usually not good in acting, but if it's your show, I'll give you one hell of a performer. You're my idol, I learned so much from you. Thanks for teaching me how to play the role of a perfect deceiver. You are fake. I will be fake. Why try truth? People around us seem to buy more of the lies rather than truth. We are young, right? WE don't need truth. Maybe not this time.
You, my reader, think twice before you act. I'm damaged, that's why I'm saying these things. This is my way of killing anger. Please don't try my style. I have not been successful in this.
I'm living a crazy life right now. You know what crazy means? It's when you choose to do the less important things rather than attend to the more important ones... just because the latter seems to be more enjoyable, when the truth is, the former are just too challenging and tiresome.
Last Wednesday night, I chose to go with Dave to visit his friend in a casino. I have classes every thursday so I knew about the probability that I would miss my 9AM argumentation class again if I dared to come home late. I'm really worried about my standing in that class because of my obnoxious habit of being late. I already missed two quizzes but you know what? I chose to stay at the casino until past 4 o'clock of thursday morning. Dave and I stayed at McDonald's P. Campa until 6AM.. I got home at 7:20. My legs are aching but I hurriedly went to the bathroom so I can attend Ma'am Mercado's class. As I was about to grab my bag, I glanced at my watch and quietly thanked God for giving me 1 hour for travel time.
While at the LRT, I kept on glancing at my watch as if the time's going to cheat me by trying to move too fast. I searched for my celphone to check for messages - 1 message received. It was princess saying that Ma'am Anna won't be able to attend to our class.
Bullshit.
So, I when I reached Recto, I went straight to a computer cafe to look for more files related to our research study. When I was about to log-out, I received a message from Andrew saying that Sir Fojas won't be able to attend our next class and, yeah, he assigned some paper work...
Crap.
I don't know if I should be thankful. I skipped sleeping just to attend their classes. But it seems that they skipped classes to give me time to rest, although it wasn't really the case.
Last Friday, Dave and I were supposed to have an overnight at our house to finish our thesis that we must pass today before 12noon. But because Dan communicated his intention of having a post birthday celebration at Leo's place, I immediately texted Dave to let him know that the overnight was off and the I must attend the inuman instead. If Mrs. Reyes will find out about this, she'll say "You're not thinking" Yes, Ma'am. It's just now that I realized that I've been thinking too much about the future that I don't get to enjoy the present. I realized that the present is actually the future I've thought too much about in the past but until now, I still don't feel as if my plans are getting done because I got no satisfaction from refraining from doing things I should've done. I'm not really sure what I'm talking about here... (this is exactly what I said to myself last night while doing our research)
Anyway, back to inuman with Dan and High School friends, I was saddened by the number of people who showed up. There were just 4 guys: dan, kim, tj and leo. Girls? Asa pa. It's a good thing Danielle agreed to come with me. I think they enjoyed having Danielle there. Nakzs. I'm sure Danielle is not the type who visit blogsites so I guess she won't be able read this entry but still, I want to thank her here for being a good company that night... and the following morning at Mcdonalds PRC. Wow, 7AM-10:30 AM kami nagkwentuhan!
When I was younger and less mature, I never imagined myself being with the I-don't-care type of people. I look down on them as if they are garbage in the society. People with no clear-cut goals in life infuriated me. But, unfortunately, it turns out that I'm destined to be one. Hehe! So... yeah, I'm living a crazy life and I don't think I have the time to explain. =D
Last Wednesday night, I chose to go with Dave to visit his friend in a casino. I have classes every thursday so I knew about the probability that I would miss my 9AM argumentation class again if I dared to come home late. I'm really worried about my standing in that class because of my obnoxious habit of being late. I already missed two quizzes but you know what? I chose to stay at the casino until past 4 o'clock of thursday morning. Dave and I stayed at McDonald's P. Campa until 6AM.. I got home at 7:20. My legs are aching but I hurriedly went to the bathroom so I can attend Ma'am Mercado's class. As I was about to grab my bag, I glanced at my watch and quietly thanked God for giving me 1 hour for travel time.
While at the LRT, I kept on glancing at my watch as if the time's going to cheat me by trying to move too fast. I searched for my celphone to check for messages - 1 message received. It was princess saying that Ma'am Anna won't be able to attend to our class.
Bullshit.
So, I when I reached Recto, I went straight to a computer cafe to look for more files related to our research study. When I was about to log-out, I received a message from Andrew saying that Sir Fojas won't be able to attend our next class and, yeah, he assigned some paper work...
Crap.
I don't know if I should be thankful. I skipped sleeping just to attend their classes. But it seems that they skipped classes to give me time to rest, although it wasn't really the case.
Last Friday, Dave and I were supposed to have an overnight at our house to finish our thesis that we must pass today before 12noon. But because Dan communicated his intention of having a post birthday celebration at Leo's place, I immediately texted Dave to let him know that the overnight was off and the I must attend the inuman instead. If Mrs. Reyes will find out about this, she'll say "You're not thinking" Yes, Ma'am. It's just now that I realized that I've been thinking too much about the future that I don't get to enjoy the present. I realized that the present is actually the future I've thought too much about in the past but until now, I still don't feel as if my plans are getting done because I got no satisfaction from refraining from doing things I should've done. I'm not really sure what I'm talking about here... (this is exactly what I said to myself last night while doing our research)
Anyway, back to inuman with Dan and High School friends, I was saddened by the number of people who showed up. There were just 4 guys: dan, kim, tj and leo. Girls? Asa pa. It's a good thing Danielle agreed to come with me. I think they enjoyed having Danielle there. Nakzs. I'm sure Danielle is not the type who visit blogsites so I guess she won't be able read this entry but still, I want to thank her here for being a good company that night... and the following morning at Mcdonalds PRC. Wow, 7AM-10:30 AM kami nagkwentuhan!
When I was younger and less mature, I never imagined myself being with the I-don't-care type of people. I look down on them as if they are garbage in the society. People with no clear-cut goals in life infuriated me. But, unfortunately, it turns out that I'm destined to be one. Hehe! So... yeah, I'm living a crazy life and I don't think I have the time to explain. =D
the debate...
[ the debate ]
danilo and I, as a team, were one of the first two teams who laid down arguments for and against the motion "Immigration laws are harmful to migrants". We have assumed that we can win the debate easily because somehow, we've gone through necessary preparations. We don't know how the other team worked their matter, but we know we have a big advantage when it comes to teamwork. It doesnt mean that I'm belittling their abilities to argue, I just would like to point out that josh's partner is an irregular student. It means there's a possibility of conflict in their schedules. We were right in this assumption.
I'm not interested to spill details of the debate that took place, but I'm happy to tell that we won. But it's not the kind of victory that is to be proud of. I mean, where's the glory in winning when you know you haven't been able to exhaust all your potentials? By the way, I only got an 80. I don't know if I should be contented about it or not. why? well, danilo got 84. Our opponents got depressing scores of below 40.. but 80 is still 80, it only looked aceptable when it is compared to much lower scores. I'm not blaming other people for my grade. Hell, I don't think I have the right to blame anyone for it. My point is that I could've done much better. You know, I'm regretting not being able to show them that I have what it takes! It seems that my stage fright is here to stay! One of the comments made by my professor is that I just read my arguments and everything all throughout my speech... ma'am, you don't have any idea... I wasn't reading my notes, I was just pretending to be reading something so I could just look at my index cards and avoid focusing on the audience.. I don't need to read, I made my own arguments, I know them by heart. Second, she said that I failed to further discuss my analysis of the cases I presented. I became lenient on this particular debate. Why? I just don't have the heart to make our opponent feel worse... trust me, I felt that they were praying for me not to further prove my points.
Aarrghh! stage fright go away! you've taken too much already! I wonder what's really my problem... confidence? inferiority complex? fear of evaluation? oh anyway, I think I just need to be thankful for what happened because no matter how much I whine, it can't take back what's already lost. right?
danilo and I, as a team, were one of the first two teams who laid down arguments for and against the motion "Immigration laws are harmful to migrants". We have assumed that we can win the debate easily because somehow, we've gone through necessary preparations. We don't know how the other team worked their matter, but we know we have a big advantage when it comes to teamwork. It doesnt mean that I'm belittling their abilities to argue, I just would like to point out that josh's partner is an irregular student. It means there's a possibility of conflict in their schedules. We were right in this assumption.
I'm not interested to spill details of the debate that took place, but I'm happy to tell that we won. But it's not the kind of victory that is to be proud of. I mean, where's the glory in winning when you know you haven't been able to exhaust all your potentials? By the way, I only got an 80. I don't know if I should be contented about it or not. why? well, danilo got 84. Our opponents got depressing scores of below 40.. but 80 is still 80, it only looked aceptable when it is compared to much lower scores. I'm not blaming other people for my grade. Hell, I don't think I have the right to blame anyone for it. My point is that I could've done much better. You know, I'm regretting not being able to show them that I have what it takes! It seems that my stage fright is here to stay! One of the comments made by my professor is that I just read my arguments and everything all throughout my speech... ma'am, you don't have any idea... I wasn't reading my notes, I was just pretending to be reading something so I could just look at my index cards and avoid focusing on the audience.. I don't need to read, I made my own arguments, I know them by heart. Second, she said that I failed to further discuss my analysis of the cases I presented. I became lenient on this particular debate. Why? I just don't have the heart to make our opponent feel worse... trust me, I felt that they were praying for me not to further prove my points.
Aarrghh! stage fright go away! you've taken too much already! I wonder what's really my problem... confidence? inferiority complex? fear of evaluation? oh anyway, I think I just need to be thankful for what happened because no matter how much I whine, it can't take back what's already lost. right?
A Flower In Bloom
I made this reflection paper for my Peace Education class.. crazy stories will have to wait, serious matters first! LOLZ!
A single still image can convey a thousand moving meanings. That's exactly what I realized the moment I've been able to view the 60 photo entries competing for the prestigious Angel C. Palanca photo contest with the theme "FEU: Sustaining a Culture of Peace" My impression is that each and everyone of us has an idea of what peace is. I don't know much about photography but there's one entry there that really caught my attention, the picture of a flower with the blurred administration building's facade as its backdrop.
Since I was born, I've been told about how dangerous the world is. When I was a child, my parents would tell me not to talk to strangers or accept things offered by people I don't know. I've been told not to go to some places. I've been told not to do things because they are bad for me. Unfortunately for my parents, their only daughter seems destined to grow stubborn and disobedient. I've dealt with the wrong people and got hurt, physically and emotionally. I've been to places I never should have gone to and got lost, literally and figuratively speaking. I did things that got me into seriously messed up situations, to the point that what has been at stake is my own life. I felt like I'm a soldier going through battles with the complexities of this world. I'm at war… at first, without actually knowing the whole point of what I was doing or what the fight is for. Should I just regret all my previous actions and blame myself if I find my journey pointless and unproductive? Or should I go on, because maybe, I'll come across enlightenment in the end.
Then a bitter-sweet realization struck me – whatever I did, wherever I've gone to and whoever I met, however lousy the people and the situations were, they helped me in my search for the real meaning of peace. We can only appreciate silence only if we've known noise. We can only recognize beauty if we've seen in our own eyes ugliness. We can only be able to understand, bare and heal the inequalities and injustices in the world if we'll see them in the standpoint of a person who has actually experienced them all. Maybe I've met the wrong people, but isolating myself from them wouldn't pave way for my growth. Maybe I've been to all the wrong places, but because of that, I discovered the things most people are afraid to find there, and trust me, they aren't that bad (and believe me, the most interesting people are in the wrong places) Maybe I did the wrong things, but surely enough, they taught me life's greatest lessons. World peace can only be possible if individuals who advocate it are at peace with their inner selves and sadly, it isn't inherent but can only be developed.
So, what does a flower got to do with it? Simple. Our world is in a blurry condition because chaos and confusion reign. People should be like that flower in the picture. It continued to grow and bloom into beauty despite the chaotic environment that surrounded it. The flower offers itself as an inspiration for people to see things in a different light.
A single still image can convey a thousand moving meanings. That's exactly what I realized the moment I've been able to view the 60 photo entries competing for the prestigious Angel C. Palanca photo contest with the theme "FEU: Sustaining a Culture of Peace" My impression is that each and everyone of us has an idea of what peace is. I don't know much about photography but there's one entry there that really caught my attention, the picture of a flower with the blurred administration building's facade as its backdrop.
Since I was born, I've been told about how dangerous the world is. When I was a child, my parents would tell me not to talk to strangers or accept things offered by people I don't know. I've been told not to go to some places. I've been told not to do things because they are bad for me. Unfortunately for my parents, their only daughter seems destined to grow stubborn and disobedient. I've dealt with the wrong people and got hurt, physically and emotionally. I've been to places I never should have gone to and got lost, literally and figuratively speaking. I did things that got me into seriously messed up situations, to the point that what has been at stake is my own life. I felt like I'm a soldier going through battles with the complexities of this world. I'm at war… at first, without actually knowing the whole point of what I was doing or what the fight is for. Should I just regret all my previous actions and blame myself if I find my journey pointless and unproductive? Or should I go on, because maybe, I'll come across enlightenment in the end.
Then a bitter-sweet realization struck me – whatever I did, wherever I've gone to and whoever I met, however lousy the people and the situations were, they helped me in my search for the real meaning of peace. We can only appreciate silence only if we've known noise. We can only recognize beauty if we've seen in our own eyes ugliness. We can only be able to understand, bare and heal the inequalities and injustices in the world if we'll see them in the standpoint of a person who has actually experienced them all. Maybe I've met the wrong people, but isolating myself from them wouldn't pave way for my growth. Maybe I've been to all the wrong places, but because of that, I discovered the things most people are afraid to find there, and trust me, they aren't that bad (and believe me, the most interesting people are in the wrong places) Maybe I did the wrong things, but surely enough, they taught me life's greatest lessons. World peace can only be possible if individuals who advocate it are at peace with their inner selves and sadly, it isn't inherent but can only be developed.
So, what does a flower got to do with it? Simple. Our world is in a blurry condition because chaos and confusion reign. People should be like that flower in the picture. It continued to grow and bloom into beauty despite the chaotic environment that surrounded it. The flower offers itself as an inspiration for people to see things in a different light.
The Poems that Says it All...
Ate vanna seem to experience being in situations like mine... hmm.. hehe! Anyway, she wrote this poem that I can really relate to. Haay.. my blog is somehow already hidden because I already changed the subdomain but y'know, I'm still playing it safe... still not dropping names and telling stories indirectly. Call me chicken.. hehe!
Patorpehan Contest
it is easier to walk away
keeping secret
the way we feel...
charging everything to youth,
fooling ourselves
hoping we'll outgrow loving each other.
we try and try to part ways
but we always end up
meeting face to face,
somehow
its a shame
why we couldn't muster
the courage
to say the words
we both already know.
Patorpehan Contest
it is easier to walk away
keeping secret
the way we feel...
charging everything to youth,
fooling ourselves
hoping we'll outgrow loving each other.
we try and try to part ways
but we always end up
meeting face to face,
somehow
its a shame
why we couldn't muster
the courage
to say the words
we both already know.
The Top Ten Must Go ON!
The Top Ten Must Go On
No. 8 – Christian Dave Dalisay
I put Dave on the number 8 spot not because there's something great to admire in him. He's not extraordinary, not the intellectual type and not even good-looking. But every time I'm with him, I'm just me – no any kind of pretense at all. This does not imply that I'm fake if I'm with everybody else, it's just that I don't feel the fear of being evaluated when I'm with Dave because in his eyes, I'm just his friend. He was never disappointed in me whenever I failed to keep up to that intellectual standard everybody else had already established for me. He doesn't require me to always do and say the right things and even appreciates me more when I display actions that the whole world disapproves of. Dave knows my secrets and I'm confident and rest-assured that he has no interest in spilling the beans. I'm comfortable of letting him know my thoughts, even the most ridiculous ones. Right now, he's my best guy buddy! I really appreciate him being around and without him, college life wouldn't be as enjoyable (and liberating? Hehe) as it is right now. Thanks Dave! I lalves you! Hahaha!
No. 8 – Christian Dave Dalisay
I put Dave on the number 8 spot not because there's something great to admire in him. He's not extraordinary, not the intellectual type and not even good-looking. But every time I'm with him, I'm just me – no any kind of pretense at all. This does not imply that I'm fake if I'm with everybody else, it's just that I don't feel the fear of being evaluated when I'm with Dave because in his eyes, I'm just his friend. He was never disappointed in me whenever I failed to keep up to that intellectual standard everybody else had already established for me. He doesn't require me to always do and say the right things and even appreciates me more when I display actions that the whole world disapproves of. Dave knows my secrets and I'm confident and rest-assured that he has no interest in spilling the beans. I'm comfortable of letting him know my thoughts, even the most ridiculous ones. Right now, he's my best guy buddy! I really appreciate him being around and without him, college life wouldn't be as enjoyable (and liberating? Hehe) as it is right now. Thanks Dave! I lalves you! Hahaha!
Sentences End With A Period
Never did I see myself as someone who's perfect. Like any other human, I got my own flaws. I believe even Mother Teresa had her own flaws. We all made mistakes. What makes one greater than the other is the manner of how he managed to transform his weaknesses to become strengths. Perfection is a relative term. Some may see perfection in symmetrical order of things; some may find perfection in a disheveled set-up of things. Well, somebody told me recently that I'm too much of an air-head because she thought I see myself as a perfect person. I was hurt because I thought I didn't need to explain myself to a friend. Maybe she felt the same way when I tried to tell her that her attitude is getting in my nerves. I thought I was just being honest. She thought I was trying to pull her down by pointing out her mistakes. We're both trying to prove our points to each other while no one is really interested in listening to each other's sentiments.
I will not reveal her name here, to save her from my reader's prejudice. This will be just like an open letter to somebody so she will be referred to as "You".
We thought we knew each other that well. We thought that we've known each other long enough to understand each other's flaws. Much to my dismay, we were wrong and it's sad that we have to learn this the hard way. Life disproved the supposition we held in our hearts for too long because you have to admit, we never really loved each other.
You confused me. When I was still angry at you, I really believed in my heart that you had the intention of hurting me because I regard you as someone special. While you were saying that I'm likewise special to you, you are also telling me about some other person that you love. My mind couldn't absorb what was happening; you left me in a state of confusion. There are so many special people in your life and I couldn't accept the fact that I'm just another face in a crowd. The anger wasn't just directed towards you because I was also angry at myself, for not being good enough and for not having enough. You wanted more from me and I just grew tired of trying to prove myself to you.
Then we started to point fingers. You said I gave up on being the same understanding person I used to be. You were trying to imply that I'm selfish whenever I get jealous because jealousy is a sign of conditional love. You want me to be just happy for you every time you tell me you are falling for the other person because it's the sign of true love. But hey, am I the only one required to show care and compassion? The way I see it, you're being inconsiderate of my feelings. It seems like you don't have any real respect for me. When I try to confront you about it, you left me with messages like "I'm not as perfect as you are, don't talk to me". While I was holding back words so as not to hurt your feelings, you say things that have caused my heart to bleed but never did I hear you say sorry. That's how it ended - an exchange of ugly words that we won't have anymore chance to take back to set things right.
My fault? I became too sensitive, the kind of close kin to paranoia. I lost my trust in you. We both have faults that broke our friendship. I'm sorry. I never perceived myself as a perfect person. Actually, I only get to appreciate the person I am when people around me chose to put up with whatever attitude I have. When you made that remark, it sounded more of an insult. Forgive and forget, shall we?
I will not reveal her name here, to save her from my reader's prejudice. This will be just like an open letter to somebody so she will be referred to as "You".
We thought we knew each other that well. We thought that we've known each other long enough to understand each other's flaws. Much to my dismay, we were wrong and it's sad that we have to learn this the hard way. Life disproved the supposition we held in our hearts for too long because you have to admit, we never really loved each other.
You confused me. When I was still angry at you, I really believed in my heart that you had the intention of hurting me because I regard you as someone special. While you were saying that I'm likewise special to you, you are also telling me about some other person that you love. My mind couldn't absorb what was happening; you left me in a state of confusion. There are so many special people in your life and I couldn't accept the fact that I'm just another face in a crowd. The anger wasn't just directed towards you because I was also angry at myself, for not being good enough and for not having enough. You wanted more from me and I just grew tired of trying to prove myself to you.
Then we started to point fingers. You said I gave up on being the same understanding person I used to be. You were trying to imply that I'm selfish whenever I get jealous because jealousy is a sign of conditional love. You want me to be just happy for you every time you tell me you are falling for the other person because it's the sign of true love. But hey, am I the only one required to show care and compassion? The way I see it, you're being inconsiderate of my feelings. It seems like you don't have any real respect for me. When I try to confront you about it, you left me with messages like "I'm not as perfect as you are, don't talk to me". While I was holding back words so as not to hurt your feelings, you say things that have caused my heart to bleed but never did I hear you say sorry. That's how it ended - an exchange of ugly words that we won't have anymore chance to take back to set things right.
My fault? I became too sensitive, the kind of close kin to paranoia. I lost my trust in you. We both have faults that broke our friendship. I'm sorry. I never perceived myself as a perfect person. Actually, I only get to appreciate the person I am when people around me chose to put up with whatever attitude I have. When you made that remark, it sounded more of an insult. Forgive and forget, shall we?
Losing My First Love
Writing for me back then was just a past-time, an optional thing that I will only do if boredom strikes at any time. I wasn't concerned about my grammar or spelling or choice of words at that time, it really didn't matter to me if they scorn the manner I presented my thoughts. For me, the important thing is to be able to express what I believe in and what I feel. Writing gives me freedom. I feel free whenever I have successfully put into writing my ideas. Writing was the outlet of my emotions - it was the reason I could breathe again when a situation or a person had upset me. When I was still in our humble house in Makati, I even remembered saying to myself that if there were things in life that I couldn't live without, two of them would be pen and paper. That's how deep my love for writing is... well, make that was.
I know I've managed to impress people with my writing skills. Friends, classmates, teachers and even those who are already considered "professionals" in the realm of writing. I was surprised. Even if I've been a school newspaper writer in elementary and high school years, I believe I got the chance to be a staffer only because of the fact that school population was small during those years. Furthermore, I wrote only in Filipino language, not in English. Making it to the Advocate is just plain good luck, I guess. Even my brother pointed out to me that I don't have a writing style so no matter how wonderful my ideas are, they won't catch attention. I believed him but I didn't care. So what if I'm not that good, I thought. As long as I have the enthusiasm to put into writing my thoughts and ideas, who cares about writing style? So whenever I hear praises regarding my poems, short stories and essays, I feel really humbled by such show of appreciation to my work because I really think they weren't that great. I felt overrated. Anyhow, I still continued doing what I love and somehow, I've managed to score awards and acknowledgements for it. I feel blessed.
Good writer - a title I have earned that I didn't want to slip out of my hands. As my reputation of being a good writer ballooned, the expectations of the people around me also got bigger. I fooled myself into believing that it was easy to keep up with the expectations. The reputation gave me confidence, too much of it actually that I've become arrogant. It manifested not through my actions though, but through my writings. The need to impress people with my writing skills developed in my character. I've used words that I knew only people with high levels of intellect would understand. I tried to make the wordings complicated, tried to perfect the grammar and tried to put style in my writing. I even resorted to copying other people's ideas and rephrasing them so as to make them appear as if they were my own. During those times, I considered my ideas mediocre compared to the articles I’ve read. I got frustrated, I felt unreasonably insecure. In my quest of improving the old writer in me, I made the mistake of almost getting rid of him. There were no improvements, only unneeded alterations. The output didn't win the approval of the people. My what was then a unique way of writing had become too ordinary, forgettable. It didn't manage to stand-out.
Since then, I avoided writing. I felt like my favorite hobby had been dressed up with over-alls and now it looks like work to me. Writing used to be just a stress-reliever, my scapegoat to the haunting claws of boredom. Now, writing is part of the stress and has become more haunting than boredom. The humble, enthusiastic writer who didn't care about grammar, style and impressing people was lost in oblivion. What was left is a person struggling to win back the respect she owed to herself.
It is true that a good writer is someone who is good in grammar, has a writing style and a wide range of vocabulary and knows how to win the hearts of his readers. But for me, a good writer is someone who doesn't prioritize such requirements because it is like drawing up boundaries to one's self. I've mentioned before that writing gives me freedom. I totally lost that freedom when I chose to keep up with the expectations they set up on me. I lost it the moment I felt the need to impress people. I realized that a writer is good when he has good attitudes and uses them to improve the world through his writings. A good writer never considers his ideas mediocre nor great, he lets the reader be the judge of that. He wouldn't change views just to please his audience. He would, however, be gentle and considerate while being fierce and aggressive at the same time. There's no clear-cut definition of a good writer. A writer defines for himself and by himself the real meaning of it.
I need to go back to my old self again where being able to express my thoughts and ideas my way alone gives me unparalleled contentment. I want to be able to enjoy writing again. My feet are now on the ground, and hopefully this time, I'll be a good writer by following only the set of rules laid down by my heart.
I know I've managed to impress people with my writing skills. Friends, classmates, teachers and even those who are already considered "professionals" in the realm of writing. I was surprised. Even if I've been a school newspaper writer in elementary and high school years, I believe I got the chance to be a staffer only because of the fact that school population was small during those years. Furthermore, I wrote only in Filipino language, not in English. Making it to the Advocate is just plain good luck, I guess. Even my brother pointed out to me that I don't have a writing style so no matter how wonderful my ideas are, they won't catch attention. I believed him but I didn't care. So what if I'm not that good, I thought. As long as I have the enthusiasm to put into writing my thoughts and ideas, who cares about writing style? So whenever I hear praises regarding my poems, short stories and essays, I feel really humbled by such show of appreciation to my work because I really think they weren't that great. I felt overrated. Anyhow, I still continued doing what I love and somehow, I've managed to score awards and acknowledgements for it. I feel blessed.
Good writer - a title I have earned that I didn't want to slip out of my hands. As my reputation of being a good writer ballooned, the expectations of the people around me also got bigger. I fooled myself into believing that it was easy to keep up with the expectations. The reputation gave me confidence, too much of it actually that I've become arrogant. It manifested not through my actions though, but through my writings. The need to impress people with my writing skills developed in my character. I've used words that I knew only people with high levels of intellect would understand. I tried to make the wordings complicated, tried to perfect the grammar and tried to put style in my writing. I even resorted to copying other people's ideas and rephrasing them so as to make them appear as if they were my own. During those times, I considered my ideas mediocre compared to the articles I’ve read. I got frustrated, I felt unreasonably insecure. In my quest of improving the old writer in me, I made the mistake of almost getting rid of him. There were no improvements, only unneeded alterations. The output didn't win the approval of the people. My what was then a unique way of writing had become too ordinary, forgettable. It didn't manage to stand-out.
Since then, I avoided writing. I felt like my favorite hobby had been dressed up with over-alls and now it looks like work to me. Writing used to be just a stress-reliever, my scapegoat to the haunting claws of boredom. Now, writing is part of the stress and has become more haunting than boredom. The humble, enthusiastic writer who didn't care about grammar, style and impressing people was lost in oblivion. What was left is a person struggling to win back the respect she owed to herself.
It is true that a good writer is someone who is good in grammar, has a writing style and a wide range of vocabulary and knows how to win the hearts of his readers. But for me, a good writer is someone who doesn't prioritize such requirements because it is like drawing up boundaries to one's self. I've mentioned before that writing gives me freedom. I totally lost that freedom when I chose to keep up with the expectations they set up on me. I lost it the moment I felt the need to impress people. I realized that a writer is good when he has good attitudes and uses them to improve the world through his writings. A good writer never considers his ideas mediocre nor great, he lets the reader be the judge of that. He wouldn't change views just to please his audience. He would, however, be gentle and considerate while being fierce and aggressive at the same time. There's no clear-cut definition of a good writer. A writer defines for himself and by himself the real meaning of it.
I need to go back to my old self again where being able to express my thoughts and ideas my way alone gives me unparalleled contentment. I want to be able to enjoy writing again. My feet are now on the ground, and hopefully this time, I'll be a good writer by following only the set of rules laid down by my heart.
I Feel So Blessed
The previous blog post was written sometime between 3 PM and 4PM. I did not bother to look at my mobile phone during that time to check out if I received any message. I wanted to maximize the 1 hour worth of rental I bought in Webtour. When I got off my seat, I finally decided to take a quick glance at the LCD of my 3310. 1 message received. I think I didn't hear the guy at the cashier clearly when he told me how much I owe him. My focus was transfixed on the words that made up the message I received.
Congratulations, uve passed the advo exam...
That was it! It just came late! I passed the exam. The text message instructed the passers to come at their office with a resume on one hand and witty answers on the other. I have no problem with those two things they required us to bring, but I don't think I have the smart casual attire that they also asked of us to wear. Oh well, I'll just ask help from mom.
Interview day.
The interview started at 9:30 and my name was called at 10:00. I believe I was there at the advo office for only 10-15 minutes. I actually enjoyed the interview process and was even disappointed when I realized it wasn't like those nerve-wrecking job interviews I went through before because the advo exam was just full of fun. I surely learned a lot of things. I even met people with bright minds.
The interview ended at 5:00 PM already. We've all waited outside for quite a long time. However, the result is worth waiting for because they had put me in the section where I thought will be the most impossible place for my feet to land on - the News section.
Dave, Mark and I decided to watch Da Vinci Code on the very same day. We had the chance watch the controversial movie on the opening day so I went home feeling very lucky that day. Thanks Kuya Mark for the movie treat!
Congratulations, uve passed the advo exam...
That was it! It just came late! I passed the exam. The text message instructed the passers to come at their office with a resume on one hand and witty answers on the other. I have no problem with those two things they required us to bring, but I don't think I have the smart casual attire that they also asked of us to wear. Oh well, I'll just ask help from mom.
Interview day.
The interview started at 9:30 and my name was called at 10:00. I believe I was there at the advo office for only 10-15 minutes. I actually enjoyed the interview process and was even disappointed when I realized it wasn't like those nerve-wrecking job interviews I went through before because the advo exam was just full of fun. I surely learned a lot of things. I even met people with bright minds.
The interview ended at 5:00 PM already. We've all waited outside for quite a long time. However, the result is worth waiting for because they had put me in the section where I thought will be the most impossible place for my feet to land on - the News section.
Dave, Mark and I decided to watch Da Vinci Code on the very same day. We had the chance watch the controversial movie on the opening day so I went home feeling very lucky that day. Thanks Kuya Mark for the movie treat!
