Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Ah, Life

You know bloggy, I've been thinking so much of various ways on how to cut down this fat crap stuck inside my body. What about jogging in the morning? Nah, my piggy-smell would attract all dogs from our street alone. What about going to gym...again? Mom said its too expensive, and I'm blacklisted in their gym, remember? What about killing myself? Yeah that'll probably do. But then again I'll probably be fat again in hell, so either way, I should cut my fat down. My God. What a skeptic.

I used to think fat jokes are fucking funny. You know, back when I was still unobese in an unmorbid way. But now, they're friggin mean after all. What is so funny with You are so fat NASA orbits satellites around you? That'll be pretty cool, you know. I'm so significant, orbits adore me to pieces.

Anyways, I'm blabbing about my fatness again because I'm afraid I'm gonna be obese for a very long time. You see, I haven't done anything productive for my body, except for some stupid highlights to my hair my mom insisted me to try. Whoa! What's that? A newsflash to mom? Highlights don't suit me?! Well isn't it just damn right in all places.

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HAH. Funny. Look at this. I got it from Marty.

Welcome Lorainne, here is your handwriting analysis.


Lorainne uses judgment to make decisions. She is ruled by her head, not her heart. She is a cool, collected person who is usually unexpressive emotionally. Some may see her as unemotional. She does have emotions but has no need to express them. She is withdrawn into herself and enjoys being alone.(So TRUE)

The circumstances when Lorainne does express emotions include: extreme anger, extreme passion, and tremendous stress.(I like extremes) If someone gets her mad enough to tell her off, she will not be sorry about it later. She puts a mark in her mind when someone angers her. She keeps track of these marks and when she hits that last mark she will let them know they have gone too far. She is ruled somewhat by self-interest. All her conclusions are made without outside emotional influence. She is very level-headed and will remain calm in an emergency situation. In a situation where other people might get hysterical, she has poise.(This is unbelievably REAL)

Lorainne will work more efficiently if given space and time to be alone. She would rather not be surrounded by people constantly. In a relationship, she will show her love by the things she does rather than by the things she says. Saying "I love you" is not a needed routine because she feels her mate should already know. The only exception to this is if she has logically concluded that it is best for her mate to hear her express her love verbally. (Whatever)

Lorainne is not subject to emotional appeals. If someone is selling a product to her, they will need to present only the facts. They should present them from a standpoint of her sound judgment. She will not be taken in by an emotional story about someone else. She will meet emergencies without getting hysterical and she will always ask "Is this best for me?" (Well, duh! Who wouldn't?)

People that write very large tend to be very social and friendly. It seems Lorainne has this type of writing. This indicates a need for people and a particular natural ability to socialize and be the life of the party. Now, if Lorainne also has specific fears (like fear of criticism or fear of trust) then she will deny she is the life of the party, because fear has overcome her natural inclination to be social. People with large handwriting tend to be effective at anything that requires interaction with lots of people. she is a people person. (DAMN RIGHT)

Lorainne is sensitive to criticism about her ideas and philosophies. She will sometimes worry what people will think if she tells them what she believes in. This doesn't mean she won't talk, or that she feels ashamed. It merely means she is sensitive to what others think, regarding her beliefs. (Who the hell did this? That bastard/bitch should be king/queen.)

Lorainne is secretive. She has secrets which she does not wish to share with others. She intentionally conceals things about herself. She has a private side that she intends to keep that way, especially concerning certain events in her past.(Oh hell yeah)

Lorainne can be defiant. She sometimes has the attitude that if someone doesn't like it the way she is doing it, then they can just "go to hell!" This trait may reveal itself in a rebellious nature that is always ready to resist forces which she thinks are infringing upon her freedom of action. (YESS!)

In reference to Lorainne's mental abilities, she has a very investigating and creating mind. She investigates projects rapidly because she is curious about many things. She gets involved in many projects that seem good at the beginning, but she soon must slow down and look at all the angles. She probably gets too many things going at once. When Lorainne slows down, then she becomes more creative than before. Since it takes time to be creative, she must slow down to do it. She then decides what projects she has time to finish. Thus she finishes at a slower pace than when she started the project. (Reminds me of my intimidation days)

She has the best of two kinds of minds. One is the quick investigating mind. The other is the creative mind. Her mind thinks quick and rapidly in the investigative mode. She can learn quicker, investigate more, and think faster. Lorainne can then switch into her low gear. When she is in the slower mode, she can be creative, remember longer and stack facts in a logical manner. She is more logical this way and can climb mental mountains with a much better grip. (God, did you do this?)

Lorainne's true self-image is unreasonably low. Someone once told Lorainne that she wasn't a great and beautiful person, and she believed them. Lorainne also has a fear that she might fail if she takes large risks. Therefore she resists setting her goals too high, risking failure. She doesn't have the internal confidence that frees her to take risks and chance failure. Lorainne is capable of accomplishing much more than she is presently achieving. All this relates to her self-esteem. Lorainne's self-concept is artificially low. Lorainne will stay in a bad situation much too long... why? Because she is afraid that if she makes a change, it might get worse. It is hard for Lorainne to plan too far into the future. She kind of takes things on a day to day basis. She may tell you her dreams but she is living in today, with a fear of making a change. No matter how loud she speaks, look at her actions. This is perhaps the biggest single barrier to happiness people not believing in and loving themselves. Lorainne is an example of someone living with a low self-image, because their innate self-confidence was broken. (This is so God.)

Lorainne is sarcastic. This is a defense mechanism designed to protect her ego when she feels hurt. She pokes people harder than she gets poked. These sarcastic remarks can be very funny. They can also be harsh, bitter, and caustic at the same time. (Sarcasma is the best gift I ever had, alright? It keeps me and you sane.)

Something is incomplete in Lorainne's life. She feels frustration relating to her physical needs and desires. Somewhere in her life there is some disappointment, non-fulfillment, and interruption. This is very likely to relate to Lorainne's sexual needs. (WTF?)

Lorainne has a healthy imagination and displays a fair amount of trust. She lets new people into her circle of friends. She uses her imagination to understand new ideas, things, and people. (Really? I haven't thought of that before)

Lorainne has a very unusual lower zone y loop. If the data input is correct, Lorainne's y or g is large and has triangle shape to the lower loop. This is not a common trait, but the implications are very interesting. As you begin to study handwriting analysis, you will learn any loop indicates imagination. This lower loop indicates the amount of imagination Lorainne has regarding sex and physical things. Her lower zone stroke is large, so her sexual imagination is large and open (Um, what?). Furthermore, because the loop has a triangle shape, this indicates a particular curiosity with certain aspects of sexuality. In a nutshell, Lorainne is open to some very new ideas sexually and is willing to try anything once. I'd say Lorainne is quite a dynamic and playful lover. Watch out world! (Oh sure! So sexual creativity is what I have. Not Picasso or whatever. What a blessing alright)

For a graphologist, the spacing on the page reflects the writer's attitude toward their own world and relationship to things in his or her own space. If the inputted data was correct Lorainne has no white space or margins on a typical sheet of paper. Lorainne fills up every last inch on the top, right, left, and bottom. Hmmm. If this is true, then Lorainne has a very aggressive personality toward others and quite frankly lacks a bit of respect for the space and property of other people. I would be surprised if Lorainne just comes into someone's home and helps herself to a drink in the refrigerator. This can be both an obnoxious personality trait and it can be assertive and effective in getting what you want. There isn't much fear of getting in trouble here, Lorainne finds plenty of reasons to break the rules and get in trouble. (Okay, perhaps when she was younger, not anymore?) Basically, people with no margins are a handful. (I AM NOT OBNOXIOUS. But why is this SO fucking accuarate anyway?)

Wow. Was that weird, or what?

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Thursday, April 24, 2008

Honk If You're Emo

After a honk or a hundred, you go out of your house with your backpack slinging itself as you walk quickly to your school bus. As you enter inside, you try to deactivate your ears because you know very well that your conductor is muttering some curses to - who else? - you. You made your bus wait for seven minutes, and here he goes, acting like Silas with the fiery glares and whispers of doom. You smirk accordingly as you find your usual seat with your other busmates who are lethargic as well. Every blink is just so so heavy. And yeah, everytime it closes, you just don't want to open it up.

You finally wake up as the sound of footsteps rushing out of the bus. You wipe your saliva that's still somehow dripping towards your chin. Wow. You actually slept through the trip. Surprise surprise, alright. You go out of your school bus, lazily trying to fix your quasi-wet hair and sleepy eyes. You startle as the engine of your school bus roars out of the school. You shake your head off as you see it drive away. Maan, I should have just stayed inside and let them bring me back home, you think. Well, you know very well you can't, actually. You have five quizzes due today, and everyone knows that skipping all of it is the most imbecile thing a graduating student can do. As you walk towards the Annex 2 building, you try to recall what those quizzes are for and about. Filipino, something about that kid named Celso. Math, polynomial functions. English, conflict umbrella. Economics, probably about the country's economy and; Physics, Newton's Laws. Your heart skips a beat just by thinking about the latter. Let's see, Physics is after recess on Tuesdays, so yeah, you're dead meat.

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It's been a long time since I wrote about something so sensible, I for one cannot let go of it. Let's see now...

Why I Can't Write Any Good Stuff Anymore.

Yeah, that'll show 'em.

If you've been reading my past entries, you can see the evident trend that they are all filled with all things juvenile. From Dora the Explorer to Greek Mythology, and my Age to Parental Control. I cannot really blame anybody, because practically, I know that it's my fault as to why this blog is slowly dying. I remember articulating that this blog is the mere output of my stress and my life and all months ago, but surely now I keep on avoiding and avoiding my own problems and resort to just thinking about how stupid Dora's backpack is. I mean really, Dora's whole life is just something I want to have now. At least she doesn't have to feel deteriorated by people, because duh, she appears on national television and kids friggin adore her. Me? My fucking bed is the only who adores me.

Call me emo or whatever shit you want to put before my name, but now that school's over and we're all off to different colleges and universities, I feel so helpless because I'm alone. Fucking ALONE. For an introvert, that's like, heaven or something as divine as it is. But being the hypocritical bitch that I really am, I now feel the need to go out with any of my true friends that have been with me for the school year that passed. Friends that helped me to cope with stupid changes, friends that made me laugh all year long, friends that gave me advice during the Great Depression, and friends that are truly, truly, TRULY, friends. Not friends who are pretending to be friends with friends of a lot more friends. Good luck comprehending that.

And now that I've said it, it brings me great happiness to acknowledge you all in here, in my shrine.

I MISS:

Rachell Ann Gonzalez, Patti dela Concepcion, Juela Sanchez, Jacque Topacio, Denise Santillan, Nina Meily, Charlene Liwanag, Alyssa Flores, Rica Guerrero, Ayu Martinez, Crissa Tenorio, Gia Cruz, Bianca Marjalino, Marian Ortiz, and the rest of 4-2 (YES! Even the dope, really. To the dope: you know who you are.).

It sucks when it[graduation] sinks in barely a month after it happened. You know, when those people you really, really love are not around anymore, not morbidly speaking or anything.

I MISS YOU GUUUUYS. Oh fuck it.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Age and Mythology

For some reason, I was doing a lot of thinking about my incoming 17th birthday last night. I don't really have an idea why, but it just hit me so hard like my brother's pressurized fart: age is the only possible thing you can physically defy. With how modern times have transformed cosmetic surgery into a mere normal activity, I have come to think of other ways that can help me fool people with my age. Oh wait. There's none.

I don't want to grow up.

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I was watching Wowowee a while ago, God knows why. There was this question that was flashed on the screen, and consequently asked to the contestants. The question was asking if Diana is therefore the goddess of moon and the hunt. I blurted out yes, since we all know that Diana is just the Roman-ized version of Artemis, the original Greek goddess of the kind. And what do you know? I'm wrong. They claimed that Artemis is, really, the goddess of moon and the hunt. I was like, wtf? Confusing gameshows. I used to like such, though. Probably right before they turned out to be more irrational than they are claiming to be. Ludicrousness and unreasonableness don't really go together in the society. It's either you be funny and smart, or be so corny and dumb. Now that is justice.

Anyways, I'm reading Edith Hamilton's Mythology again. For unknown reasons, mythology just cannot detach itself from me. It's like I have to connect every little thing to some god/goddess and bore everyone with it. Just like last night.

Mom: Ay, tignan mo o! Bilog yung buwan! (Oh lookie at the full moon!)
Me: Ah oo. Alam nyo bang si Artemis ang goddess ng moon? Di nga lang moon eh, pati wild things kanya din! (Ah, yes. Did you know that Artemis is the goddess of the moon? She's also the goddess of wild things, actually.)
Mom: Huh?(I need not to translate that.)

I've only appreciated the Eight Brief Tales of Lovers after re-reading all of the stories of the characters there. Somehow, Baucis and Philemon's very very touching story of love kinda moved me, probably because it's the only story the doesn't seem oh-so supernatural. I liked Cupid and Psyche's, too. I mean, definitely, that thing's a classic already.

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Saturday, April 19, 2008

Cups

My mind pushed me to do this. Blame..uh..it.

Lately my sudden knowledge of how big my mammary glands have gotten over my puberty years is deeply bothering me. You see, I don't give an ass if my body fully develops or not. What matters to me is that I make it to my legal age alive and a ton less, with the latter remaining arguably impossible(and the former being so much for a suicidal. Well, no. Make that a quasi-suicidal.). Being almost a year away before this stupid process finally stops, I have come to think that I may be lucky all along in terms of physical development. You see, as formality dictates, females normally experience a little bit (or too much for some) of problem in the face. You know, the usuals being the acne, pimple, blackheads and whiteheads. Sebum party, alright.

I didn't experience those, um, actually. No, really. You can call me egotistical or pig or sebum lackluster or whatever you want except for the latter because it sounds so friggin lame, but it's the damn truth. I remember that one time when I thought I have a pimple on my face because something's reddish and quite yellow(or was it olive? Hmm, maybe purple. I'm not sure. Check my mood.) in the middle. I consulted my sister who's like, the CEO of some Sebum corporation because she produces way way way waaay more oil in the face than me (and for the nth time, she's more experienced in the facial care department. Like I could care more, really.). She said it was too small to be a damn pimple, but she wasn't sure if it was one in the end. But, whatever. I was so excited to be stressed because of it for the rest of my days and stuff.

I woke up the next day and it was gone. Boo-fucking-hoo. Well, I have blackheads instead. Man, I swear to God that if someone who is exorbitantly interested in macro photography would pick my nose as the subject, he/she would freak out because of the increasing population of these things are experiencing. Beat that, chocolate hills.

What I lost in the face is what my mammary glands gained. I'm not speaking about the Sebum and acnes and all of that, but, you know. I didn't have oil overdose but now, hold your breaths because as of yesterday, my cup size pivoted its way to C from A. You can say your respective OMG's now.

I don't like having big boobies. I mean, Jesus, I don't even like having boobs. What the hell are they for, anyway? Oh yeah sure the baby needs milk blah blah, but can it just STOP growing and stuff? I wish all of my Estradiol can be donated to those others who hate me now because they have small boobs.

Too much is just really, really bad.

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Sunday, April 13, 2008

Slow, Slow Piss

That was how my life was in the beach for 4 freaking, fucking, fidgeting days filled with filthy sand and goddamn bitches who made me feel a lot more inferior than a dog's shit. Hells yeah, I'm that inferior in the body department. God, the beach is such a bad idea all along, I'm going to narrate everything to you guys. You know, to make up for the nugatory sense this blog lost since my last post, which by my elementary calculations is a week and four days ago. But not for long, damn right. I'm gonna post all my drafted entries after I finish this crap, like everyone could really care less.

We went back to Subic after two weeks because, well, I don't know, exactly. Mom probably has the summer fever and she wants us all to feel the same way. I don't have an idea why going to the beach for the second time just did not in any way excite me for a bit. Anyways, here it goes.

April 10, 2008 - Thursday

We left the house at around 2-3 in the afternoon, so consequently, we arrived at Subic at 6-ish in the evening. And since mom is just so kind, we did not rent any cheap-ass cottage for our things. Instead, we lived in tents that is anything but comforting. Kinda reminds me of my Girl Scout days, when we were forced to build tents on mountains and stuff when we camped. But at least that's fun, because there were a lot of activities scheduled for us, very much unlike our stupid vacation where there are only few things you can do: bum around, swim, eat, sleep, then go bum around again.

See, Monica was supposed to go with us. She would've saved me from the extreme boredom I got. I mean, I was not only bored, but dammit, I was pissed as well. But things just can't go my way or something. I wish I could've just ditched this whole thing and just slept over at Monica's house or anything.

I practically did nothing on this, um, night. I played a little badminton, flew a kite with my brothers, then off I went to hit the sack at about 5am of the next day.

April 11, 2008 - Friday

I wasn't sure if it was this day, or on the 17th, but nevertheless I greeted Janrae some birthday devoirs a birthday celebrant truly deserve. He turned, 20, I think. And I need not to elaborate anything about this much further. (HA. Yeah-diggidy-right) And for sure it was this day, since he confirmed it by replying to my birthday message 8 hours later. Whatever.

I swam all day, then slept after. Blah blah. Got a good tan, spared my shithole of a face from sunburn, you know, the usuals. I met this cute guy who claims that he's this environmental advocate from UP Los Banos and thus he keeps on picking up bits of garbage around our vicinity. The operative verb 'met' is probably the worst overstatement I ever used. God, I'm so conceited I did not even bother to ask the person's name or anything. Anyways, he left early, so the boredom fire still raged and cracked like hell.

I woke up at 8pm and bummed around, again. Mom suddenly texted me to join her for some 'eating time' at the nearby bar. Dressed with my school jogging pants and some jersey shirt, I..well..obliged. I was an open bar anyway, and Mom won't let me have any hard drinks. At least secretly drinking local beers didn't cause a mishap between my clothing. That would totally suck.


April 12, 2008 - Saturday

The minute I woke up, I decided to just laze around and skip swimming for this day. My body's kinda bored of defying gravity in water anyways, so I just answered some sudoku puzzles and snored and slep. I told you it was boring.

After Mom showered her ass off, we went to SBFZ (Subic Bay Freeport Zone) or as I would call it, The Zone. See, The Zone is practically my heaven. It's the most disciplined piece of land here in the country, aaand, you have the most civilized people stuck in there. Not that I'm civilized or disciplined or anything, but watching people act so nice like it's a natural trait is so so so amusing. Well, for me, that is. It's a reminiscent of Oceania, the setting of George Orwell's 1984, only much much more cleaner and a bit friendlier.

We bought chocolates(which will later on be eaten right before the night will end) for friends we left in Manila, and a handful of other stuffs you couldn't find anywhere else except in Royal Subic/Puregold Subic/Freeport Exchange. Other stuffs, except for liquor, that is. That liquor superstore right in front of Freeport Exchange is surely, surely some heaven hidden by God so as to not attract drunkards. This is the only place I know inside The Zone where you can purchase both Pepe Lopez and Jose Cuervo at affordable prices. I'll be celebrating my 18th birthday there, for sure.

And for dinner, we went to the infamous Meat Plus Cafe, just beside the liquor superstore. Their specialties cost a lot, really. I thought that an order of Roast Beef is good for two, and mom's New York Steak is also good for two. When the busboy laid out my roast beef on top of my table, my eyes grew in amazement. God, all this for 300 bucks? Obviously, it wasn't good for two people. Yet on the other hand, it was exorbitantly right for an obese teenager. The plate is as big as my two boobs combined; roast beef soaked in sauce on the right, mashed potato with a gravy saucer on top, and vegetable sidings on the left. The minute the meat entered my hungry mouth, I began salivating for more, more, MORE. Now I get it why a plate costs so freaking much. I swear to Lord God, that's the most scrumptious meal I ever had.


There's another incident that happened, but you don't really want to hear about it.

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Dear Bloggy,

I'm sorry. I'll make up for all the loss, I promise.

Love, the Owner.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Carpe Diem!

After taking your well-needed bath, you walk out of the wet shower and grab your towel. As you dry your wet hair and body using it, you think of what will happen today at school. The third chapter of your thesis is to be passed today, and the methodology of your investigatory project, too. You vividly remember that today is Tuesday, and as far as your class schedule is concerned, you have Research and Physics in the morning. 'Shit', you mutter as you throw your towel to your bed and rummage your dresser for your underwear. You blankly wear your underwear and at the same avert your eyes towards your closet in search for the second layer of your uniform, which is your pantylet and white sando. Your eyebrows intertwine as the thought of wearing all of these under your black and white checkered skirt and white minimal blouse appears. Maan, they have got be kidding all of you.

As you go out of your room wearing your complete uniform, you cannot help but to think if this will be the same way at this time next year. Your lips curve into a weary smirk as you remember that you won't be wearing this three-layered uniform anymore next year, unless you're an idiot and can't move on from high school, which is far more unlikely than you being a nun or something. You know you won't miss it, because who the hell does, right? You shake your head off as you go down the stairs.

BEEEP BEEEP.

Oh no. Is that the school bus? But you haven't put on your socks yet!

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This summer is going completely to nowhere. No, really. Yeah sure, we'll be going to the beach again tomorrow blah-diddy-blah-blah, but that's already boring me to death. I haven't even done anything to cut some ton or two off my body except for playing badminton before dinner time, which isn't really helpful at all especially if the dinner's quite enticing. Mom wouldn't let me have boxing classes because they're tad expensive. Damn, she wouldn't even let me go back to swimming for fear that people will actually think I'm a walking pig. How sweet of my mom to ruin my sports career. I don't even have one in the beginning, and here she comes destroying the imaginary.

As of now, I don't really know where I'm going to college. I opened my Multiply account a while ago and was astonished by the large number of people who have already scheduled their enrollments in their respective schools. Me? I'll probably end up in my room, pretending I'm Zeus and my bed is Olympus for the rest of my life.

The thought of not going to college does not scare me, even for one bit, which is scarier for a high school graduate. I mean, I'm tired of studying, for the love of God. My brain deserves a goddamn break and I know for sure that a year is the right time span for me to recover my old self. You know, that persona I had before graduation practices and graduation and eventually, summer changed. Crap. I'll give you an overview.

MY OLD SELF
(From June 2007 to February 2008)

- Irritable. Very irritable.
- Laughs insanely at her own jokes
- Longs for a drinking session with her seatmates and friends once in a while.
- Longs for a taste of cigarette before her last year ends
- Applies the numerous laws of Physics every single time
- Computes for the time it will take their car to accelerate over an inconsistent velocity caused by her mom's unpredictability in the choice of routes every morning.
- Adores her Physics teacher more than her Physics notebook. Very notable indeed.
- Unusually nonchalant about the fact that her classmates aren't cleaning the classroom. She was the EFC chair, by the way.
- Hates doing things not related to school
- And with that, she makes up problems of every sort just so she can think of something sensible.
- Does not think of college as an importance
- Does their thesis and investigatory project on her own
- Loves the internet, just like any teeny-bopper person she knows
- Always sleepy, but not that sleepy to not spend her recess and lunch breaks with her friends.

MY NEW SELF
(From March 2008 till now)

- Thesis? Physics? What the fucking hell are those?
- Apathetic. Very very very apathetic.
- Still hates doing stuffs
- Except now that she also hates doing anything related to c-o-l-l-e-g-e
- Kinda hating the information super highway because of its state of being overrated
- Wants to kill all those people who made her look stupid by cleaning the room all by herself for a year. FOR A GODDAMN YEAR.
- Longs for boxing lessons and gym workouts
- In short, she longs for a spankin' new body
- Longs for a social life. How ironic for an introvert, alright.

See the difference? God, I'm feeling such a piggy right now. Not that I'm not a pig before or anything. But I'm pigger, and good luck googling that.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Unsafe

You find this very irritating, of course. Actually, anything that's done repetitively is irritating, except for winning. God, how you love winning stuffs. Doesn't everybody? You get free stuffs most of the times, and your self-esteem is at its highest level. Don't forget the attention, alright. But you're no attention whore like those social climbers you see at school everyday. You're just a simple high school student, trying to get through college algebra and velocity-time graphs. You grab the top part of your blanket that's covering your head off, then you instantly get up. That's no surprise for mommy, you guess, as she looks at you approvingly and greets you a sweet 'Good Morning!' instantly.

Very unfortunately, you can't greet her likewise since, well, it isn't a good morning. Heck, every morning has been such a bad start for your school days, and there are a lot of stuffs you can think of to blame. As your mom gets up from your bed, she placidly mutters some words that if put into the right arrangement would mean something like the classic 'hurry up, you'll be late for school', or the modified and nastier 'Get your ass up and brush your friggin teeth. You smell like some cat's shit'. You let out a weak laugh by the thought of the latter and walk to the bathroom's mirror to check out your face. People say that you look like what you feel (or was it a song? Nobody remembers). In this case, you feel smashed and wrecked and bulldozed by bazillion machines. You're fucking tired of feeling sorry for yourself, since indeed feeling sorry for one's self is the last thing a senior student should do.

Now you ask yourself what caused the dark circles (with a diameter of about, I don't know, 3cm? or maybe 10m. You'll definitely go with 10 since hyperboles are the new iPods or something.) around your eyes. Was it because of that third chapter of your thesis you did by yourself - again? Or was it because of your investigatory project that's going completely nowhere? Maybe it's because of the 1000-word essay that's due tomorrow, and the only thing you've accomplished for it was to type your name, your section, the date, and your English teacher's name.

No, you whisper. It wasn't because of the academic pressure you've been feeling since forever. It's college, isn't it? Well, you ignore the thought of it as you quickly open the faucet and wash your tormented face. You know deep inside that your stressed-out appearance can be easily wiped out by the wonders of technology in the field of cosmetics, but your weak heart, mind, and body will always be fed up of everything. Enough of the dramatic soliloquy, you think as you wipe your face and take your clothes off to take an awakening shower.

[To be continued]

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I can't believe I'm living in an unsafe land.

I know, I know. Such an incessant yet useless generalization yet again. Nothing's really good around here in the city anymore, for sure. I can't even feel safe in my own bathroom, for Christ's sake. I have this weird feeling that somebody/something's looking at me even if my bathroom only has a small window. Or maybe it's God? No, no, I'm no religious advocate (but I do believe in God. Nobody can really tell that I love God. Damn, I'm such a cool person.), but I know God gives us some little privacy, at the very least. Unlike someone I know who even uses cameras to sneak into people's ass. Yeah, it's Big Brother. How'd you know? What a smart idiot, ain't he (or she? Maybe Big Brother's a pseudonym for some bisexual who wants to earn six figures or something.)?

I mean, if you come to think of it, the earth itself is an unsafe planet. Don't worry, Al Gore's not going to butt in here. Criminally speaking, every fucking corner in this earth is not tolerable by any means. You just have to be mugged or kidnapped or killed at least once in your life. I bet that Singapore (the world's safest country) has kidnappers and the like too. The only difference probably is that their kidnappers are so Nickelodeon-wise that each gang is assigned to a particular group of kiddos. Like, Yi Gang kidnaps kids who adore Spongebob, or or Er Gang kidnaps kids who adore that Dora the Explorer kid. In that way, the kidnappers can chat with the kids and well..have fun, most likely. (I'm just fooling around. Mr. Ramanathan. Oh please please please don't kill me. Kill Dora instead. I swear to God, she's way way waaaaay more idiotic than me. SPARE ME!)

On a lighter note, maan I hate that Dora kid. Where the hell are her fucking parents anyway? My mom would never ever let me explore the whole subdivision with some talking backpack and a weird homosexual monkey who wears big red boots when I was a kid, let alone explore the whole damned nation. And what is up with that Swiper? God, I told you the world ain't a good place to live anymore. Look at that, a snatcher who disguises himself as a fox? And why the hell didn't any criminal think of that one before? It sucks though that Swiper only takes things that aren't even valuable, and it sucks more to know that he doesn't even take these things with him. He just grabs some random piece of wood needed by Dora and hides it in the bushes a foot away from the Spanish kid. Damn, that is one weird fox. He probably doesn't have friends since for a fox, he looks so stupid walking with his two back foot. And as if that's not eerie enough, he has this blue blindfold around his eyes. All he wanted all along was to be friends with Boots and invite him to a cold mountain with a flock of sheep to sleep in a warm, warm tent.

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Belated Happy April Fools', everybody!