Mental Masturbation

On a given random time of the day, I find myself praying to God that if He could, at least for one minute, go hide my vagina and replace it with a dick (or even a strap-on, whatever He digs) so I could become a man or a lesbian and forget the freaking troubles my current gender preference is giving me. But He won't; He just would not give me my weird wish.

I'm so tired of being a woman. I think everything about it is just pure bullshit. The menstruation, emotional breakdown, boobs, bikinis? My God. Just thinking about all of them at the same time frustrates me more than thinking about how fucking delayed the series of tormentingly unfortunate events at school got us all into. As you know I am already delayed by a term; I've accepted that crappy fact long, long ago. I'm not on the borderline of being kicked out, nor am I on that danger scale of having too many accumulated failures. I'm just an ordinary college student, if you are to make the college of engineering as a reference, that is. It's a sad fact that from a straight-A student way back in high school, I've become this trashy shit of a pupil that no self-respecting parent would desire to have.

I don't consider my course to be something that should be disregarded, even though I'm a trash. I mean, come on, it's freaking computer engineering. The course title itself speaks for who I am, who my blockmates are, and who my college friends are. Sadly, because of the superiority of the other courses in my college, we remain to be at the bottom of the goddamn list. They did not open the subjects we petitioned a fucking term ago, much to everyone's dismay. I wouldn't be so outraged if these courses were useless, but these subjects are majors. Major subjects mean a LOT to me now for the reason that they hold the key for me and my peeps to stay on the track. The rule of this game is simple: keep the majors coming, and we'll all graduate a term late. We did not break a rule. They did, and boy, did they fucked our lives up BIG TIME.

I do not want to dwell too much about it because I just got my notebook repaired days ago and I don't want to go back to that suspiciously hidden repair center to get the keyboard repaired this time. As you probably do not know, my laptop has been suffering from laptop cancer ever since I can remember, and I kept on insisting that it will survive through chemotherapy (frequent hitting of the lid) and radiation (restarting the system for about five times until it stops BSOD-ing). When it brought me hell last Finals week as I crammed our programming project (I swear to all my gadgets that I almost threw my notebook at the wall because of the recurring LCD glitch), I decided that it really is the time to have it repaired. I can't afford my laptop to be so crappy since it's running a brilliant OS and a bunch of handy programs, it makes me look crappy too. So yeah, I got it repaired before I went off to enjoy my term break.

Ah yes, term break.

THAT WAS ONE HELL OF A TERM BREAK.

I know I'm gonna sound like a college freshman or a freshly deflowered alcohol virgin right now, but I've never drank so much as I did during my term break. Tuesday was probably the only day that I cooled down, as far as I can remember. For Monday night, my college friends and I went to this place in Baywalk to celebrate the term that just ended. It wasn't big; it was actually just this small gathering we had to drown our respective sorrows. Mine, mostly, because I just broke up with a boy I dated for a year. I appreciated that because that was exactly just what I needed for me to just forget the breakup crap and move on with my life. I stopped moping after that night as we made our way to Drew's place down south after Grade Consultation last Wednesday. It was my first time to spend my supposedly sad week with my college friends who all have dicks and smell like something I do not want to know, and I enjoyed it so very much.

We had shots of Bacardi and Pepe Lopez as we all got into our amats stage, much gratitude to King's Cup. We sang random songs as we all sobered up into the dawn. Then, with big grins on our faces, we went to Drew's room to sleep. It was all good.

We went home pretty late on the next day which pretty much pissed me off because I had to be home early in order to fix my stuff for my other term break getaway, which was Ayu's three-day beach party in Laiya, Batangas. I was really excited for it because after a long time, I'll be spending some time with my high school friends. I guess there is really a part in me that longed for the company of girls. After all, I spent 4 puberty-induced years with these bitches. Even though I now spend more time with my college friends, dicks still cannot replace that bond I already have with my girl friends whom I consider my own sisters.

So there. The roadtrip kinda sucked ass because it was a really hot day and Laiya was pretty far. But everything was worth the pain because the place was perfect. It was this big villa that is just a short walk away from the white sand beach of Batangas, and the rural feel of it just made me unwind so easily. I shared my room with two of my friends who are also enjoying their respective singlehood, which is good to know because I don't want any breakup story to spoil our vacation. I would not go into the details as I know for a fact that details bore the shit out of anyone. But let me just assure you that I enjoyed every freaking minute of it. I had fun being friends with my bitches' boyfriends, which made me miss my birdies for a while. The whole getaway made me realize that no matter how fucked up my life gets, these ladies are gonna stand by me, regardless of my stupid actions and decisions.

And right there and then, I've moved on.

Talking about a recent breakup is like a subliminal trashtalk, so I'd like to do that smoothly. People have been asking me if I'm alright, and how am I coping up with all that shit. For the benefit of this blog and as my reference on future breakups, I am okay. Sometimes I miss him, but most of the time, I thank God for His blessing as I made the right decision. I've learned a lot from this boy, and I mean a LOT. My friends know that; I am no sourgraping ass. I'm thankful for the wonderful experience, and how the whole relationship chiseled my life path. I cried, yes. I whined, yes. I moped around, yes. You wanna know why? Because I have a girl's heart. Having one sucks so bad because no matter how manly your mind gets because of your environment and habits, you're still gonna be this woman who will be so fucking fragile throughout your life.

But am I regretful of anything? No way. I was happy with him, that's for sure. Now that he's gone, I am happier and excited on how things in my life are gonna turn out.

And you're gonna witness all of it.

Fin

I did everything that I could.

It's over. I'm done.

Random

Weirdly enough, I am starting to think that this certain classmate of mine fancies me and/or my big ass. He keeps on asking me things I am duly not concerned about, like the schedule of make-up classes and whatnot.

Me and my selfish imagination. *Snorts*

Anyways, hello. Ever since August started, it's been proving to be such a bitchy month for me and for everyone I know. My mood levels has been fluctuating like our dormitory elevator that has serious machine issues. The first time I got stuck in that piece of crap was a total nightmare since there were lots of people with me whom I couldn't really care less about, except for my friend, that is. Two were claustrophobic and one old man just couldn't shut his mouth up. But after the same incident took place for about thrice a week for a goddamn month, I don't really give a shit about it anymore. In fact, I've learned some tricks on how to make it move once it gets stuck in a. in front of a wall, b. in front of floor door, or in most cases c. just simply refuses to move. I guess that's what you get for paying 5k a month for rent. Oh well, there is always that nifty condominium elevator that's a thousand times safer.

It is observable too that I am in this frequent desire to make budget reports regarding my own budget. In fact, for this week alone, I've already made three. And it's just Tuesday, for Christ's sake. I don't know where the hell this certain percentage of assets is coming from, but boy am I enjoying the frills of it. I am earning more than my friends who have engaged themselves in the complicated world of networking, much to my surprise. They kept on inviting me to join them with their gig so I can earn lots of benjamins come Christmas time. Being the awfully materialistic person that I am, the offer caught my attention even though I know that easy money doesn't always guarantee easy success. Sometimes, it has a catch, though I'm not really interested in finding out whatever that is (maybe because it's too obvious enough). So yes, I was ready to jump the bandwagon until I told mom about it and she slapped me with a big fat NO. She said she'll give me what I want so I need not join any of that. Since I'm not so sure about joining it either, I took mom's word and let my friends do their networking.

And I'm thankful that I made the right choice. HAH. I'm swimming in my own money, bitches. Eat that.

So there. Even though I'm having a lot of problems with almost every single thing I have in mind right now, I still do (and miraculously at that) make the most fun out of everything. Take for instance our low-cost power supply project in our electronics laboratory. The project itself may sound so boring, but every moment of doing it excites me the most. We shopped for materials today and for reasons unknown I was so anxious about purchasing electrical parts - again. When I first went to Raon street for my electric circuits laboratory project last term, I didn't really enjoy it since we were rushing things off and my wallet didn't have a lot to offer. But this time, I was so ready to buy my OWN soldering iron, soldering lead, desoldering pump, and many other things that I would like to put in my OWN toolbox. That being said, I don't have to borrow materials anymore, and have that right to refuse usage of it to anyone who doesn't have any.

Nah, I kid. I would let you poor people borrow it, but for a minimal fee, of course. You know me. I'm a greedy pig.

Last week was a bliss, I should say. I had fun with my college friends - too much fun. Even though I had my first taste of how unlucky Friday the 13th really is, every misfortune was waaaay too worth it. We haven't hanged out totally ever since school started, so the three-day holiday was just the right type and amount of relaxation I needed after almost three months of engineering hell. I hosted our organization's acquaintance party, though I can't really say that I did a good job since I was too stressed and tired with all of the hullaballoos we went through on that day alone. But you know what the weird part was? I cannot, for the life of me, empathize those feelings I had during those jaded moments but instead just feel so grateful that fate find its way to make what I envisioned my weekend to be a reality. The field trip for our ELETRO1 class sucked ass and being sleepless that day and all, I just wanted everything to stop and let me and my friends have some well-deserved sleep after a fun night together. And yeah, the field trip was cut short because of whatever constraints, and we all slept in the bus. Oh how I loved it.

But since it was all just like a jaunt in a prairie, we are now back on the hustle and bustle of the city, aka the real world. Finals week is only two weeks from now and we are all rushing everything. God, I hate my life.

I swear to God my term break better be worth all of this wait and torture.

Ciao!

Twisted

I was helping my good friend Charles with his literature assignment last Thursday and it hit me.

I am so freaking metaphorical.

I thought I was just being descriptive with all of the 'rain of sadness' kind of shit, but I thought hard about it while I was jogging yesterday as David Guetta tunes blare out of the cheap earphones of my iPhone. How did I become so metaphorical over the past few months? Neil Gaiman's Jingo did not have a lot of metaphors as it was the last novel I've read, what more than my Strength of Materials textbook which bores me to death with its countless beams and supports? God I hate textbooks. Someone should revise every textbook in my table and inject them all with humor, or drawings of cute little stars and hearts and other girly crap like that.

Maybe I should.

This is the reason why I am staring to loathe jogging. It makes me think so much about the most random of things, and even my stinky pile of problems that I do not want to discuss. I bought cheap earphones so I can divert my attention to how a particular song gets me so pumped up and how I will make running more complicated than, well, running. But this is not the case, much to my dismay. Kinda makes me think of skipping Black Eyed Peas and Lady Gaga for just something as simple as a long beeping sound so my ears can bleed themselves out. That way, I won't be able to hear anything, not even my thoughts.

How morbid.

And emo, at that.

I still remember this certain phrase I've read in Second Helpings, the second installment of the Sloppy Firsts series. My thoughts create my world. Marcus Flutie said this to Jessica Darling and it seriously punched me in the face. If I have good thoughts, then I have a good world. Otherwise, then I have a bad world to live in. The weird part about it is that I neither have good nor bad thoughts; they're always twisted, at some point. Like it's this shaft that's subjected to an infinite angle of twist. Once it is twisted, it goes on and on and on until another soft shaft molds into it and twists for the rest of my life.

But the good thing about it is that the ends of shafts stay the same way as they are, no matter how you twist them in the most crazy-ass way you can think of. Those ends represent my personality.

I stay the same as my thoughts twist infinitely.

My twisted thoughts create my twisted but hella fun world.

-------------------------------

Who's Enraged Now?

The week I've been dreading for has finally arrived. It's that time of the year that I'm very very VERY irritated at even the smallest of things. It's not PMS, mind you. It's worse than PMS. Kinda gave me the idea (just now) that maybe all those PMS-able days that I don't usually have have been cramped up now in a week, that's why my temper is sky high every freaking second. This happens annually, and quite coincidentally falls on the middle of July. That being said, I still do think I can get stranger than I already am.

And so, I am now resisting the urge to throw my sister's netbook because of its f-ing small keys. I can't get the modem to run in my laptop so I just have to settle with this toy. GOD I HATE NETBOOKS SO MUCH.

Anyways, I pity the people I hang out in school everyday for they suffer the consequences of my extreme mood swings brought about by, oh I don't know, bipolarity, maybe. What I am experiencing now (which I experience yearly) is highly unexplainable; I've researched solutions so I could deal with it while it is a its' peak, but I got nothing. It's very hard for me to control my anger and how it manifests itself to my voice which is already dark enough to begin with, so telling people to simply lower down their voices would easily boil up to "SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH" or of any higher degree.

So, I've decided to use this blog as a medium to express my current state, and to further eradicate any catfights for girls, and trash talking for guys. Stop talking shit behind my back or I would all punch you in the face, I swear. (My God, see what I mean?)

- For starters, quit stating or finding the obvious. If what you're looking for is already right in front of you, go and get it, stupid. Don't ask me where the hell is it because I will seriously throw it at your face, together with a bunch of foul words you will wish you've never heard. If you keep on saying something that's been cleared out already (and/or a wrong word that have made its way out of everyone's mind ages ago and you're hoping to get a bunch of good laughs about it), SHUT UP. It's so irritating to say and hear the same things over and over again, like a freaking broken record.

- Quit giving corny jokes. If I'm in my normal state I would just throw it back at you with an even cornier one. But now that I'm weirder than usual, I will seriously get mad at you. Stop wasting my time with your stupid jokes because they aren't even funny. In fact, I do smell sometimes if one joke or anecdote originally came from me, which makes me angrier. That is NOT really a good way to flatter me. I don't really believe in imitation as being the greatest from of flattery, so just shut the fuck up.

- Do not try to be funny by being cocky or tackless. God knows how some of you can do the miraculous act of putting two seemingly different things in a fusion that can be the death of me, but seriously, just stop it. I don't care if you're smarter or wiser than me, but stop shoving it into my face with sarcasm that is supposed to be laughable, BECAUSE IT IS SO FUCKING NOT. How about just shoving it into my face, you may ask? Why don't you try it? Just promise me that you will run for your life after because I don't want to be arrested for murder just because of kicking your ass out till you die.

Anyways, I'm done spreading the word. Have to study for a quiz tomorrow.

Musings 2

All those career talks make me really, if not extremely, excited for the REAL world out there that's waiting for me. For the longest time, I've been wanting to finish my studies already and work my ass out for myself. Yes, I am very materialistic and desirous, as I unluckily got this hereditary trait from my father who give a quarter of his pay to us, and the rest will fall to the hands of the cashier at an Armani store. He used to be a gadget aficionado like yours truly but when he was exposed to the colorful European couture during his long-lived yet mundane eurotrips, he turned out to be part-gay and had this fascination for clothes that were so expensive to begin with. I don't really mean the gay part because that will be sad on me and my siblings' part, I just find the thought of him scuffling for D&G underwear pretty well, gay and funny.

Anyways, my mom and other grown-ups in our family keeps on asking me on my plans after saying my adieu to university life, right probably after my last grade consultation day. For someone who keeps shoving into everybody's face that she's lethargic, I don't want to be one of those fresh graduates who wants to lie low and take about four months of break because heck, four and a half years of murdering your brain wasn't just a phase. No, I don't want to stop. As long as the opportunity is already there, I gotta grab it because I have the rest of my life to take a beak, but I gotta work now.

I've already sketched my plan in my mind:

• Finish the damn thesis first and have the OJT on my last term so if the company liked me, I can be absorbed or;
• Have the OJT first and work hard on the thesis right after. I can look for a company later on.
• Unlike my father, I want to work in a multinational company as a hardware engineer. As for the software part, I don't think I can be a good software engineer since my definition of playtime comprises of having to haphazardly surf the net and/or play with the computer. And given that softwares are programmed which means I will be programming a lot, expect that three-fourths of my work time will be spent on Facebook.
• If I work in HP, I have the privilege of living across my workplace since Mom got us a condominium at McKinley Hill. And my God, just merely thinking of it is just so exciting. I have a cool job at a cool company who is just in front of our cool place in the coolest location ever. I'll be the definition of cool in the near future. Most probably it will turn into awesome when I hit my 40's.
• I'll grab every business trips that will come my way. I miss eating McDonald's and Burger King in big airports of other countries. The last time I did eat a foreign burger from the fastfood chain was in Schiphol and that was seven years ago, damn it. Mom even bought me this art kit there on our way back to Kuala Lumpur before we arrive in Manila. And in KLIA, I bought this random Malaysian magazine. So much for souvenirs.
  
• And speaking of airports, the niftiest one I've seen is the Schiphol but I could've sworn that HKIA is the winner if it weren't for the Filipino galore. Seeing other Filipinos abroad is the weirdest encounter I have to avoid.
  
• As for marriage, I don't think I can marry anybody without earning a lot of moohlas first. I can wait and enjoy my single life till I hit 30. But beyond that, I don't think I can have kids anymore. I can marry, but I don't want any painful labor moments nor offsprings. If you want to get me pregnant, you better do that before 2021.
• And since we are on the topic anyway, my parents will not be spending a cent on my wedding day. Not that I'm full of pride but my parents do deserve a break after spending almost a million just for my education. And that's just me, for Christ's sake, I have a sister and three brothers to keep in my mind. My wedding day is the start of my life that I will detach myself from my parents' captive and that's why I'm being a responsible teenager by planning all of these so I can earn bazillions. *breathes*, Pangbawi lang.

Will I keep this blog up until I'm a workaholic already? Oh yeah.

Much Ado About Non-Existent Things

In my defense, I don't know where the hell that previous post came from. I guess there still exists a part in me that likes to blab sentimental stuff out loud. But who freaking cares anyway? I'm dealing with an imaginary audience here.

And so, with about four hours of sleep relative to yesterday's very lethargic afternoon when God pulled my eyelids up to hit right smack in my face that I do have a life and should start moving my ass around, I'm gonna tell you how my week went. My mom got me in the mood to write again by citing my exemplary writing skills while driving our way home, as she fetched me from our dormitory at friggin five in the morning. My phone started ringing as early as 4:50 and I hurriedly gathered my stuff and my sister's stuff. Getting up wasn't the challenge, actually. I was awake since yesterday's lazy afternoon, so you would see that I practically just have to stand up, carry the bags, and ride the elevator down to the lobby.

And who the hell would know that waking up the lady security guard would be the ultimate obstacle? Not me, of course. The previous guards were awake and/or will be awake upon your first mutter. But this one, oh God, I don't know what she nibbled or drank before she passed out, but she better stop the intake of such. See, the gate of the dormitory closes at 12AM and reopens at 5AM. The guards are the ones who get to lock the gate and consequently keep the key to wherever she wants, but I'm guessing that the butt crack is a hot spot. I muttered to wake her up, but she's immovable. I poked her with my left forefinger for about 20 times and to my delight (even if I expected it to eventually occur seven minutes ago) she arose and opened the gate.

So, back to my week.

I've been having three school days (out of the normal four or five) ever since the previous week. Holidays and whatnot kept kicking in, and I don't really know if that is the right reason to celebrate and all. I mean, less school days, oooh, what a joy. But my God, it's making me more torpid than I ever was. Sayang ang momentum. It's like running on 120 in EDSA then being abruptly stopped by an MMDA traffic officer for a number coding offense or something stupid.

Aside from the recurring holidays, professors are also becoming to be such a headache. Not actually in the sense that they're giving us a truckload of schoolworks, just like any merciless professor would do, but surprisingly, it's the contrary. They're not showing up! See, I have this awfully unusual excitement to learn new stuff, specifically from my electronic and electrical majors. I'm in that rare stage in a college student's life where my interest to my major subjects are sky high. I mean, come on, the topic of diodes already wakes me up during ELETRO1 (Basic Electronics 1), what more if we already discuss the succeeding topics? I studied Java porgramming during the summer break in preparation for CPEPROG (Advanced Computer Programming) yet much to my dismay, we're still not playing around with Netbeans. It's like having to learn the C language all over again but this time, there's no freaking instructor.

For those of you who are from Peyups and shrugging your respective 'so what?' reactions because this happens all the freaking time to all of you, these professors do not even give us topics to study to compensate for those times that they're not gonna be around. Yes, syllabi do exist, but hell like we know if our professor is gonna skip a topic because they're cool like that.

Haaay. I'll shut up na lang. It's not like they're gonna appear right in front of me now to give me the lecture that I've been wanting to have since weeks ago. And besides, they're cool as hell anyway. My professor is one of the founders/promoters of the much-oggled IntelliPen.

I guess that's just how life roll.

-----------------------------

My mom asked the golden question while driving us home.

"How come you write really well? Wala namang writers sa angkan natin ah."

Mom, I'm not a writer. If you ask me to write a formal paper or a column or simply whatever, I'll write crap. I just happen to be good at playing around with satire and toothless humor like I truly am in real life.

Someday

You're the one that got away.

Yes, I know that.

Yes, I am aware that I may have probably made the dumbest decision of my life; to let you go.

To break free from your love and affection,

To stop this whole nonsense whirlwind of a blind romance,

To let you go.

Yet now, I'm a smarter person.

I know that I'm in love with him, and he's my life.

I know that forever may be such a gargantuan choice of word to describe how much I want him, need him, like him;

But he's all that to me.

And though it would have appeared before that you were my forever, I'm putting a halt to the perennial silence.

You're not, and never will be.

Someday is a blue moon.

And when it appears again, kismet is to decide if it's our time.

But for now, and for as long as time permits us so,

My heart will always be for him, as it really was back then.

Back when I wasn't sure of with you.

Someday.

Well, Hello There

Often times I'd just wonder what the heck happened to that part of my brain where all of my emotional sweat goes. See, back when it existed, I would just easily juice it up and as it flows, I'd write random, if not gobbledygook, stuff here. Well, right now, judging by the date of the previous entry (and its infatuated-driven content), I'd say that it just literally went BOOM because of the emotional outburst being in a relationship had given me. What I do not understand of course is how I was able to write continuously during my first whirlwind of a romance.

Maybe it's because he didn't mean so much to me. Whatever.

Anyways, hello and hi. I'm still alive and fat as hell, just like the way I would usually describe it. You can't really blame me, really, since I've been this way since my mom fought with hell just to push me out of her womb during the crucial seconds of her labor. But you know what? I'm really getting sick of ranting about how I'm getting more and more obese each day. It's like the more I rant about it, the fatter I get. I don't really know why that occurs. Life's weird antics, I guess.

Having Alejandro as my boyfriend always makes me realize that no matter how fat I would get, I will still be that pseudo-successful teenager I am ought to be. Having him makes me grateful for what I've already accomplished through the past 18 years of my existence. My body or grumpy face may not be flashed in a billboard in EDSA or C-5, but to a lot of people, my work has done a lot already. My boyfriend never really does smack that truth to my face every single time I go freaking boohoo about my weight and smudgy piece of an ass, but he makes me realize it all by just loving me, and ignoring the continuous increase of cellulites around my body. (GOD! There I go again with the fat issue. I just couldn't shut up for a sentence, can I? )

Well, aside from being alive, I still am a struggling engineering student with weird hormonal issues, very unlike the typical female teenager. The professor discusses the use of Thevenin and Norton theorems in solving current and voltages across circuits and I think about weird sexual images resistors and voltage sources often form. Nobody knows this, of course, because it's all part of my subconscious mind. I don't tend to tell stuff that I do subconsciously, but this is an exception because it's getting pretty weirder and weirder everytime IT happens.

GAH. I wish I was normal.

Not to brag or anything, but often times I think that I'm too special. I mean, who the hell isn't?But too bad that I'm taking that specialness too granted that I've already forgotten the pristine reason why it was all given to us in the first place, which is to nurture our personalities and given talents for the betterment of ourselves. I can take good pictures, but when a good scene is just right in front of me and my camera is on top of a high deck, I'd slack off, thinking that the same scene would appear tomorrow or something. I can design great posters and edit pictures, but when an opportunity is licking me right in the ear, I'd easily push it away. I used to be really good in math and circuits, but because of extreme procrastination and that burning desire to just take the rest of the day off, I've lost that bagenius touch.

Sigh. I miss my uncolleged self sometimes.

But God, I love college so damn much. I love my college friends who, amid the wide gender gap, still make me feel as if I have a penis of my own and thus respect my ideas, no matter how stupid those ideas often get. We laugh at each other's jokes, and make fun of each other's stupidity. These people are the kind that is always up for everything, and will always take your words for the things they do. Generally, you would think that boys don't like listening per se, but take my friends differently. We may not graduate at the same time, but I'm really happy that we'll all be working in the same industry soon.

I love the freedom college has given me right on that very first day in Andrew building. My high school has been a mere chokehold, which of course without the presence of my friends would never be bearable. Freedom doesn't always mean being able to do things you've constantly wanted to all your life, it also means taking responsibility in things you usually don't mind. Money, for example, doesn't always come handy for a full-time college student who's appetite grows larger every minute. If money used to mean just buying a scrumptious lunch or snack, money now means handling and organizing your finances well for other stuff like photocopying readings, printing reports, and other mundane school things.

And of course, I love my boyfriend whom I met in college, just not in the same university. Cheesiness aside, he made me more mature, therefore being able to act as an adult who still knows how to have fun.

Haaaay. Well, whatever. F the emoness and sudden hibernation. I'm back.

To The Love of My Life

I HAD to take down the song. It was pathetic. I don't really like it now.

How about I find you now so things would get better?
I'll take you to a special place where there's only me and you.

Blg. 2

Ang Nakaraan:

Marami akong ginawa. Naligo, nagbihis, at naglakad. Labis na pag-iisip ang aking ginawa para maayos ang mga gawaing ito.

Ngunit may mali. Masakit mang isipin na ako'y nagkamali, kailangan ko itong tanggapin at itama.

Ano nga ba ang maling iyon?

Blg. 2 - Ang Mali

May dumaan na jeep na papuntang Crossings. Sinundan lamang ng mga mata ko ang rumaragasang jeep na dadalawang tao lamang ang laman. Naglapat ang mata ko at ang mata ng driver, na para bang plit akong kinakausap at pinapasok sa loob. Sumakay ka na, parang awa mo na. Feeling ko sila lang ang pasahero ko forever! Pag sumakay ka na, at least dalawang tao na ang madadagdag! Please naman oh! animo'y kaniyang sinambit. Ngunit matatag ako; hindi ako nagpapilit sa isang hunghang na katulad niya. Niligaw ko ang aking paningin sa daan pabalik sa aming tahanan. Alam kong may mali, kung kaya't ang paraan lang para maayos ang maling ito ay bumalik ako sa bahay upang magpalit ng damit.

Nararamdaman ko ang pagtulo ng pawis sa aking likod at noo; parang gripong ayaw sumara ang pores ko. Binilisan ako ang lakad dahil alam kong parating na siya. Oo, siya nga.

Ang araw.

How could you do this to me, Kuya Kim? Linggo-linggo naman ako kung manood ng Matanglawin, at maliban kay Marc Logan eh ikaw lang din ang inaabangan ko pag TV Patrol. Tapos nagsinungaling ka sa akin ngayon, sabi mo kaya kagabi uulan! Nag hoodie pa tuloy ako, parang tanga lang! Huhu.. Kumakalog sa aking isipan ang ginawa ni Kuya Kim sa akin, para bang ako'y pinagtaksilan ng aking mahal; nanunuot ang sakit na dinulot sa akin ng maling forecast na iyon. At sa kasamaang palad, ang sakit na iyon ay nasa form ng pawis. Oo, nanunuot na talaga ang pawis sa aking likod.

Pagkabukas ng aming kasambahay ng pintuan ng bahay, dali-dali akong umakyat papunta sa aking kwarto para magpalit. O Diyos ko po, iilang metro pa lamang ang aking nalakad mula doon sa kanto, basa na kagad ang likod ng t-shirt ko. Naghanap ako ng panibagong isusuot, at padabog na ibinato ang itim na panlamig sa aking kama. Para bang hinugot ko mula sa aking likod ang itak na kanina pa nakasaksak; sadyang napakasarap sa pakiramdam.

Bago ako lumabas ulit ay nagkatinginan kami ni labidabs. Binusisi ng mga mata ko ang kanyang nag-iisang mata. Hmm, mamasa-masa. Siguro'y nagluksa siya sa desisyon ko kanina na iwan siya. Pero dahil nagkamali ng si Kuya Kim, aba'y pwedeng pwede ko na siya dalhin. Hinablot ko ang aking mahal na camera at ako'y nagmadali ng lumabas ng bahay para makahanap ng masasakyan.

Nang ako'y nakatayo na sa may kanto, heto't di ko na naman alam ang sasakyan ko. Sa dami kasi ng uri ng transportasyon na pwede kong sakyan papunta sa MRT station sa Shaw Boulevard sa Mandaluyong, hindi ko na alam kung ano talaga ang sasakyan ko. Maari akong maghintay ng jeep na diretso na sa Crossing, pero medyo mahirap na gawin ito dahil mag-aalas siyete na. Maari din naman akong mag-tricycle papunta sa palengke at doon maghanap ng jeep papuntang Crossing, ngunit pihikan kasi ako sa tricycle at lahat ng tricycle na gusto kong sakyan ay puno na pagdating sa aming kanto. Maari din naman akong mag-taxi na lang para wala ng proble-problema, pero hindi ako ganun ka-willing magbayad ng isang daang piso para lang dalhin ako ng taxi driver sa aking destinasyon.

Hindi naman ako nagmamadali, dahil alas-nuebe pa ang aking pasok. Pero ayoko na tumayo doon at maghintay dahil mukha akong tanga. Nakikita pa ng mga dumadaang motorista ang aking pagmumukha, baka silay' mapahamak pa. Kung kaya't nung may nakita na akong taxi, aking pinara ito at pumasok na sa loob.

Mabait si Manong Driver. Hindi siya tulad ng ibang driver ng taxi na nasasakyan ko pag umaga na mas masungit pa sa isang dalagang may buwanang dalaw, at maternity pads na ang ginagamit sa sobrang lupit ng daloy ng kanyang dugo. Tapos pag sobrang sungit pa, hihingi pa siya ng dagdag na para bang sobrang layo ng aking destinasyon. Pero dahil mabait si Manong Driver, hindi siya nanghingi ng dagdag. Nagkwentuhan pa nga kami tungkol sa mga boundary ng aming napaka-laking village. Natawa siya noong sinabi kong hindi na sakop ng Pasig ang aming village dahil ito'y masyado ng liblib. Mula sa dulo ng mala-Beverly Hills na runway hanggang sa may tulay, Pasig iyon. Pag tawid ng tulay, Cainta na. At pag napunta ka pa sa may kadulu-duluhan, Taytay na. Tuwang tuwa si Manong Driver sa sinabi kong iyon. Binabalak niya ata mag-joyride sa aming village sa kanyang free time.

Inabutan ko siya ng isang daang piso nang kami'y makarating na sa may MRT Shaw. Nagpasalamat ako, at naglakad papunta sa elevator. Wrong timing na naman ako. Alas-siyete na kasi ng umaga, at alam kong patayan na ang lahat ng commuters ng ganitong oras; mapa-emplayado man o estudyante. Minsan nga pati yung mga baguhan o newbie eh umaangkas na rin sa tren, yung tipong trip-trip lang makipagsiksikan para may maipagmalaki na sila sa kanilang mga pamilya. Di ko alam kung pano naipagmamalaki na nasiksik ang ulo mo sa isang kili-kili ng isang pawisin na manong, o kaya'y natulak palabas ng napakaraming tao sa isang istasyon na hindi mo naman talaga bababaan.

At dahil patayan hour pa sa tren, ako'y naupo muna sa upuan sa may ilalim ng escalator. Aking nilabas ang aking iPod at nagsoundtrip muna habang pinapalipas ko ang oras at ang mga taong atat na atat na makaalis sa istasyon. Biglang dumating si Carla dela Cruz, isang makulit na kaibigan mula sa aking eskwelahan dati at ngayo'y nag-aaral din sa unibersidad kung saan ako'y nag-aaral. Sa kasamaang palad. si Carla ay isang Chemical Engineering major, kung kaya't ka-kolehiyo ko rin siya. Minsan lang talaga ay gusto ko na siyang hambalusin gamit ang aking mahiwagang grap kit para nang siya'y tumigil na sa kaka-asar sa akin. Makapal kasi ang kanyang mukha at talagang ipinapalangdakan niya ang kanyang pang-asar sa akin kahit na kami'y nasa kalagitnaan ng daan o McDonald's. Ganoon talaga katigas ang kanyang mukha.

Mabuti naman at noong nagkita kami ng umagang iyon sa may MRT station, maayos siyang tao. Siguro ay ganito siya pag umaga; pwede pang kausapin ng masinsinan. Hindi ko na tinanong kung anong oras ang kanyang unang klase dahil alam kong alas-otso iyon dahil alas-siyete y media na at nandoon na siya. Naalala ko na nainggit ako kay Alyssa Flores kahapon, isang kaibigan din na aking ka-eskwela dati at ngayon ay ka-kolehiyo na namin ni Carla, dahil ipinagyayabang niya sa akin na nabenta na niya ang kanyang grap kit sa halagang 3,500 pesos sa tulong ni Carla. Dahil mukha akong pera at napakalaking kalat lamang ang grap kit na iyon sa aming kwarto, gusto ko rin na ibenta yun at makakuha ng pera pambili ng tripod o lente o kung ano man na trip kong bilhin. Tutal, isang tech pen lang naman ang ginagamit ko mula doon sa hinayupak na grap kit na iyon (at ginagamit ko lamang iyon pag wala akong pambili ng bolpen. Nakakahiya nga gamitin minsan sa aming klase dahil lahat ay napapatingin at napapa-reminisce ng wala sa oras. Makapangyarihan talaga ang Rotring 0.35.), kailangan na talaga siya ibenta.

Nagpahanap ako kay Carla ng buyer ng aking grap kit dahil siya lang ang may tamang thickness ng mukha na makaka-kumbinsi sa mga frosh na may kursong Engineering Graphics ngayong term na bumili ng grap kit mula sa amin. Humingi siya ng commission sa kanyang pagbebenta, at ako'y pumayag na lang. Wala akong magagawa, kailangan talaga bayaran ang magagaling na tulad niya. Habang hinihintay ni Carla at ang kanyang kasama ang sunod na tren, napatingin ako sa akin kaliwa at nakita ko naman ang aking kaibigan na si Crissa Tenorio, isang kaibigan mula sa dati kong eskwelahan at ngayon ay Computer Science major na sa unibersidad kung saan ako'y pumapasok. Mukhang kanina pa siya nakatayo doon at ng nakita na niya ako, siya'y lumapit sa akin. Nag-usap kami sandali at siya'y tumayo na rin sa pwesto nila Carla.

Dumaan ang tren, at nakasakay na sina Carla. Sa kasamaang palad, hindi pa rin nakasakay si Crissa. Nais ko sanang malungkot at mag-emphatize, ngunit paano ka malulungkot kung na-LSS ka sa kanta ni Pitbull na I Know You Want Me? Pinanood ko lang siya at ang iba pang mga tao na naghihintay ng tren. Shet, ang dami nila. Mag-eexpire na ang aking tiket at kung di pa ako sumakay, magkakaron na naman ako ng pahiya moment sa paglabas ko sa turnstile sa MRT station sa Taft. Para ito'y maiwasan, hinintay ko muna makasakay ng tren ang mga tao at ng naubos na ang isang parte, ako'y pumuwesto na.

Andiyan na ang aking sundo. Tumingin ako sa likod at nagulat sa dami ng tao sa likod ko. Nako, malupit na tulakan na to. Instant mosh pit na naman ang pintuan ng tren, at sana lang ay wala akong masaktan na masungit na tao. Ayoko talaga ng sinisigawan ako sa umaga dahil ako'y napipikon sa ganun. Mabuti naman at nag-moshing ang mga tao ng maayos. Natulak ako papunta sa gitna, at ako'y humawak na sa handrail.

Boni Ave.

Guadalupe.

Buendia.

Ayala.

Magallanes.

Habang binabaybay ng tren ang mahabang riles papuntang Taft Avenue, naramdaman ko ang pag-vibrate ng aking telepono na nasa loob ng aking bag. Pagkatingin ko sa screen: "Chino Sun mobile.. slide to answer". Akin sinagot ang tawag ng aking kaibigan na dapat ay nasa classroom na ngayon dahil alam kong alas-otso rin ang unang klase niya sa araw na iyon. Sinagot ko gamit ang aking mahinang boses dahil ayoko na may makarinig sa pag-uusap namin.

Chjno: "Oy."

Ako: "Oh baket?"

Chino: "Ano nga ba ulet yung Cosine Law?"

Ako: "HINDI KO ALAM!"

Umagang umaga, cosine law kagad ang tinatanong. Sa totoo lang, alam ko naman talaga ang cosine law. Yun nga ang pinakapaborito kong parte ng Trigonometry eh. Madali lang kasi paglaruan ang mga variables nito kung kaya't madali lang din matandaan. Pero ayoko sabihin kay Chino noong oras na yun dahil alam kong pagtitinginan ako ng mga tao. Baka isipin nila na alien ako (na medyo totoo).

Nang nakarating na ang tren sa huling istasyon, ako'y bumaba na at nagmadali papunta sa exit. Tinanggap ng turnstile ang aking ticket at muli itong niluwa sa taas, at ako'y nagmadali na naman papunta sa LRT Edsa. Oo, alam kong 9:40 pa ang klase ko, at mag-aalas-otso pa lamang sa orasan ng istasyon ng tren. Ngunit hindi ko talaga alam kung bakit ako nagmamadali.

Pagkasakay ko ng tren papuntang Vito Cruz, biglang nag-flashback ang lahat ng nangyari saken ng umagang iyon. Naramdaman ko ang urge na isulat ang lahat ng iyon sa aking blog na nilalangaw na. Kung kaya't pagkalabas na pagkalabas ko ng istasyon, ako'y nagmadali na papunta sa Microsmith sa EGI at sinulat ang lahat ng ito.

May saysay pala ang araw na ito.

Blg. 1

Aking sinet ang alarm clock ng aking telepono sa oras ng alas-singko ng umaga upang ako'y magising. Sa paggawa ko nito, nadagdagan ko ang bilang ng gigising sa akin. Nariyan ang kapatid kong aking kasama sa pagpasok sa unibersidad para sipain ako upang ako'y magising nang kami'y makapasok na sa aming eskwelahan. Nariyan din ang aking mahal para na sa kagustuhang gisingin ako ay gumigising pa ng alas-singko ng umaga para ako'y gisingin lamang. At ngayo'y nandirito na ang alarm clock ng aking telepono na walang tigil na mag-va-vibrate hanggang hindi ko sya binabato.

Ngunit sa lahat ng mga ito, ang aking mahal lang talaga ang may mahiwagang kakayahan na ako'y gisingin. Kapag pangalan niya'y aking nakikita sa screen ng aking telepono, ako'y nagigising at gumagalaw na, na para bang siya'y aking kamahalan. Hindi naman sa ako'y takot sa kanya, ngunit dahil sa sobrang pagkatuwa ko na binigyan na naman ako ng Diyos ng isang araw para gawin ang mga gusto ko sa buhay at iparamdam ang aking pagmamahal sa kaniya at sa aking mahal.

Ganoon na nga ang nangyari kaninang umaga. Inumaga na naman kami ng tulog dahil kami'y nag-usap sa telepono kagabi. Kung kaya't sobrang hirap ko gisingin kanina, pati ang kapatid at alarm clock ko'y sumuko na. Ngunit ng siya'y tumawag na, ako'y nagising at tumayo na; nakangisi pa na parang batang kilig na kilig sa isang eksena ng koreanovelang Boys Over Flowers.

Ako'y nag-ayos na ng aking sarili, pero bago ko pa man piliin ang isusuot ko sa araw na iyon, ako'y sumilip sa labas ng aking bintana para tgnan kung tama ang forcast ni Kuya Kim para sa panahon ngayong araw. Tama, tama siya. Makulimlim sa labas, at medyo basa pa ang bintana. Halatang umulan na naman ng malakas kagabi, at baka umaambon na naman ngayon. Kinuha ko ang aking paboritong statement shirt, at ang aking pantalon. Hindi ko na mahanap ang panlamig kong kulay orange na may mga bangka bangka na cute at maganda tignan. Sayang, ang ganda ganda pa naman nun. Kung kaya't aking kinuha na lang ang Quiksilver kong panlamig na aking ginamit kahapon na wala rin namang kwenta dahil noong umulan ay nasa loob ako ng V305, nakikinig sa aking propesor sa pinagdidiinan ang mathematical statement na dv=dv, at v=v. Wala namang kumokontra sa kaniya dahil wala namang ka-kontra kontra sa kaniyang pag-integrate.

Sinuot ko na ang hoodie na iyon, at sinuot ko na rin ang pinakamamahal kong dog tag at wallet na may nangangasim pang lanyard. Kaka-laba ko lang ng lanyard na iyon noong nakaraang linggo at ngayo'y nangangasim na siya kaagad. Siguro ay maasim na nga talaga ang leeg ko, kung kaya't ang pawis ko'y pwede ng ipanglaban sa Knorr Sinigang Mix na ginagamit ng aking nanay pag siya'y naglulutong sinigang na bangus. Pagbalik niya mamaya ay sasabihin kong pigain na lamang niya ang aking lanyard pag siya'y magluluto ulit ng sinigang na bangus para kami'y makatipid.

Matagal kaming nagkatinginan ni labidabs, ang aking camera. Gusto kitang dalhin, alam mo naman yun eh. Pero umuulan, labidabs. Mahal kita, ayaw kitang mabasa at masira, aking sambit sa kanya. Bobo ka ba? Waterproof ang bag mo. Ang sabihin mo, tinatamad ka lang mag fill out ng entry pass para sa akin! Dalhin mo na ako, parang awa mo na. Namimiss ko na ang crush ko.. si I.. , sabi niya. Ngunit kahit ano pang pagpupumilit ni labidabs, siya'y aking iniwan sa ibabaw ng aking study table.

Pagkababa ko, aking hinanap ang paborito kong sapatos, ang dilaw at itim na checkered na Vans ko. Mahal na mahal ko ang sapatos na ito. Kahit pa minsa'y napagkakamalan akong emo ng mga tao pag ito'y suot ko, hindi ko siya hihiwalayan. Hanggang matapos ang term, siya lang ang isusuot ko.

Matapos kumain ng aking kapatid, kami'y pumunta na sa kanto upang mag-abang ng jeep. May Crossing United na dumaan, ngunit hindi muna ako sumakay. Pinauna ko na ang aking kapatid at ako'y nagpaiwan sa kanto.

Parang may mali.

Itutuloy...

I Just Blogged 11

Dear You,

You have no idea how much of a pain in the heart you've been lately. It's not that you're starting to get in my nerves, or your face is irritating the hell out of me. In fact, I don't really know why you're causing me so much pain and yet, I am tolerating all of it.

Stop invading my dreamland. I dreamt last night that you were holding my arm in a weird way. We passed by to that place in school where my friends hang out. After seeing us two, they started to act really weird because they can't believe that a "heartthrob" like you would waste your time holding the arm of a piggidy like me. They started chasing us with pitchforks and those other things the mob in the movie Shrek would use to hurt Shrek. You carried me up to the fourth floor of the Gokongwei building, and you just suddenly vanished. I entered my G404 and there goes my gay professor, advocating gay marriage.

Well, that's when it all ended.

Love,

Me

------------------------------

I don't have the heart to explain every little thing that happened since my last post, so I guess I'll just put it this way:

Birthday was fun.

School is fun.

Being a sophomore is fun.

The subjects are fun.

The classmates are fun.

My schedule is fun.

LBYEC71 is fun.

But I'm not happy.

One Hour

And so, with one hour left in the clock before I turn 18 and get my legal ass up in the adult world, I'm here sitting in front of the computer, wondering why in the world I'm being all sentimental about all of this 18-ness. It's not like I'm gonna die when the hands hit the number 12, or I'm gonna get really cranky and just eat everyone's ass in an instant.

But, I don't know. Maybe the mere fact that I'm gonna leave adolescence is starting to kick in already, and I'm still not ready to welcome it, so it seems. 

When I was a kid, I would always count those big number of years before I reach my 18th year. I was so obsessed by the idea of being able do 'for adults only' things because it tickles my curiosity like hell. I remember this particular scene during my younger years when I caught my aunt and maid watching porn in my dad's room which used to be the room where I literally lived way back then. I was about to get my school stuff from dad's room but unluckily, the door was locked. I knocked lightly at first and abruptly, it shifted into heavy pounds because seemingly, they can't hear my knockings. My aunt opened the door and when she saw me, she quickly motioned to close the door again. But yours truly, being all weirdly athletic and stuff, showed her how much of a reflexive little girl I am by rapidly pushing it back. She was trying to get me out, and God, you don't know how much I wondered why. My face became really hot and I can feel my own tears strolling down on my fat cheeks. When I sensed that my aunt's force is getting weaker and weaker as I get stronger (strong enough to push that hell of a door all the way), the television caught my attention. In the scene, there were a boy, and a girl. And the boy was seemingly inserting something to the girl's organ.

Wait, what? That organ looks like the one that I have..

And well, when my aunt saw my exprssion, she pushed the door and said these words to me: "Pang mga 18 and above lang yan, umalis ka na!" (This is for 18-year olds only, go away!). And since then, my freaking curiosity killed me. Why is it that it's only for 18-year olds? What's so special about reaching that age anyway? 

Years passed by and before I knew it, I'm an hour away from finally being 18.

So, to celebrate my 18-ness, am I gonna watch porn all day? Well, not really. Surely, there is more to life than porn and promiscuity. If I focus too much on those things then it won't even be a wonder if I'll end up like those teenage mothers. I mean, not that somebody would get me pregnant or something. I'll probably get pregnant by myself.

It's not that I've waited for so long for me to become an adult already so that I'll be able to watch porn relentlessly. I guess my inner wanting to get hold of self-maturity and understanding made me wait much further.

And now, I'm finally gonna get them.

The gargantuan amount my mother and father spent for my 18th birthday party cannot hold a candle to self-maturity and understanding. These two are gonna get me to places I've never been to. I may not know what those places are, but I'm sure my parents are still gonna be proud of me.

Thank you all for growing up with me and witnessing the pain and happiness I experienced during my teenage years. 

Oh look. Only a minute to go. I guess it's a Happy 18th Birthday for myself already.

You Are Invited

In celebration of my upcoming 18th birthday, my mom is planning to throw me a birthday party for our friends. And by our, I mean her friends who have like, families of their own already. She even instructed me to clean up the living room and set up my Guitar Hero band set so the kids can play with it and stuff. Did I already mention that I'm gonna turn 18? I did? Oh. I guess mom didn't know that.

So yes, for all of you who knows where I live (because I don't have the heart to sketch a map for those who doesn't. I live in freaking Greenwoods, for Christ's sake. If you don't know where the hell that is, then I'm sorry, but you're a failure; an epic failure. ) please do come to my house for my 18th birthday celebration. It'll be fun, I promise. There will be pesky kids and balloons with "Happy 18th Birthday, Oyen.. Love: Mama and Papa" written on it. If you want to take home a balloon, a minimum fee of fifty pesos will be collected. I'm sorry, but balloon strings cost a lot these days. 

But seriously, it will be fun if you guys would come. Free food and soft drinks and juices by day, free flowing drinks by night (HARD, really hard. You know how much of a drunkard my mom is, hello.). Smoke all you want, my mom and the neighbors won't give a shit about it. Since I don't drink anymore, I guess I'll just watch you all pass out one by one. I'll have our pails ready, and the maids are more than willing to clean your messes up. Barf at me, and I swear to God you won't get to live the same way ever again. Airbeds are ready for those who are gonna be too drunk to find their way home.

STRICTLY no guests (unless he/she is my friend or something). I'm sorry. I'm still an introvert, after all. I am still so fucking constrained to my group of people. I deserve to die.

Come in any attire you want, be it just the usual shirt and shorts and slippers or some weirdass costume that you, for some reason, happen to have. Like that Barney costume my friends and I saw behind the tv cabinet in our classroom back in high school. Weirdest shit I've ever seen. Seriously, who even owns a Barney costume? And what the fuck for?

If you want to play Guitar Hero non-stop, I've got some bad news for you: our Wii, being all primitive and stuff, overheats and shuts down after 45 minutes. I know, it sucks like hell. I can't even finish a game without being pissed off by it all. So yeah, just bear with the poor thing. 

Save the date: May 22, 2009. It's a Friday, and I really reaaally hope you'll all be there. I'm sorry if I wasn't able to come to your respective parties before, but please do let me make it all up to you guys. Come on. Three days after that day, I'm gonna be back in school and I won't get to hang out with you all again. 

It'll be better too if you will all come in the afternoon, when all the kids are gone and we adults can play already. We adults. Man, that sounds so.. adult-y. 

------------------

Kyla Patron Tequila (I'm Drunk On Margarita), Happy Birthday... :)

Save Reality

It's practically normal to stay up till the early hours of the morning during vacations. It's like a freaking norm on its own; to sleep early is just as weird as weirdness can really get. I for one have been witness to my own sleeplessness during term, christmas, and summer breaks and sleeping as early as 10pm made me a top loser for a week. Not that I was affected by it all or anything (I was.).

This summer, sleep time did not usually go beyond 3am, because that's the time when both Alejandro and I are already sleepy. Often times when he would call me, the call would end at 3am. And when we're just exchanging text messages, the last of text messages would usually come around before 3am. So obviously, 3am is the farthest I've been this summer. 

Well, the 3am streak ended this morning.

I did not intend to do a Monica (read: asleep in the morning, awake during the night and the early morning), because I don't want my menstruation to be absent for three months again. You just don't know how suspecting some people can get. Last 2007's christmas vacation, when my mom learned that blood has not been flowing out of me for almost three months, she almost took me to her friend who's a midwife, reckoned that I might be pregnant or something. I explained to her that there is simply no way that THAT's gonna happen because:

1. I am so not for pre-marital sex. Do I look like someone who does?

2. THAT boy broke up with me like, five months ago already. Does it look like that I'm gonna give him another chance and let him fondle a part of my body in celebration?

3. And besides, even if I could've gotten a new boy during that time, I highly doubt that he will even try, let alone dare, to nail me. Do you think that a fatass can get laid that easily? I mean, not that I want to or anything, but you know (I hope you do.).

Speaking of menstruation, I remember telling this friend yesterday that I wish God had given me some extraordinary reproductive organ that doesn't spurt out dirty blood every 28 days instead of this V that I have, being a girl and all. She suggested the male genitalia, but I hesitated because I doubt that I'm gonna have friends with that. I need friends, you know.

Anyways, what was I talking about again? Oh yeah, 3am.

While talking to Alejandro, I was reading Lois Lowry's The Giver that I snatched from my brother's big plastic of school supplies they bought last week. God, I really wish my mom faked my gender and enrolled me in LSGH for my elementary education, at the very least. Think of all the good books I could've been forced to read! I can't believe my brothers are taking their good books for granted. One day, those books are gonna stand up for themselves. I'm gonna help them, I swear. (Like, yeah right.)

So yeah, the flow of the story was marvelous until I reached that chapter when The Giver asks the Speaker for a videotape of that morning's Ceremony of Release Jonas' father kept on talking about the day before. Turns out that the 'release to Elsewhere' meant death. Jonas' father killed that other twin who weighs much lesser than the other twin. I was so shocked with how the plot twisted right there and then, I mean, not that the concept of death is particularly new to me or something. I just found it really weird that a book can this be straightforward and meaningful and all. 

I finished the book at around 5am and right after that, I felt so haunted by my own fears (not necessarily death itself). I mean, what if we're also just a utopian world, a big world of mockery? I am finding this really impossible, since unlike those robotic people in the story, we have feelings and we can determine colors. But with all of these innovations technology is continuing to give us everyday, it seems that this place is slowly becoming like that of the Community. People are striving to make life perfect and needless to say, it's all languidly making us lose sense of things. Soon, love will probably just be an obsolete term, just like what happened in the story. And I sure don't want that to happen.

You may say that hell, it's just a freaking story, get over it. I try to tell that to myself too, but I know that there's gotta be a reason as to why Lois Lowry wrote The Giver. Authors don't just usually write stuffs because they feel like writing. Writing is not the same as eating, or any other daily habit because what you write concerns the society. Maybe she believes that it's time for us to appreciate the smaller things of life, because someday, they could all be just wisps of memories. 

And I don't want my surrounding to be just a memory. I want all of this to become a reality.

So after thinking of all these things over and over again, I forced myself to sleep at around 7 in the morning, in fear that I might die of sleeplessness today.

God. The Giver gave a new meaning to staying up till the morning. 

I think I just Monica'd.

I Just Blogged 10

I failed engineering physics last term. With this, I am one term delayed iff (if and only if) I will enjoy the rest of my college summers without even bothering to take summer classes for those subjects I failed. And it does really look like that I'm gonna be one term delayed because I'm having so much fun slacking off during summer time.

I am gaining a pound every minute. STOP BLAMING ME. It's the foods' fault, not mine.

I am starting to get pimples, right smack at what should be the end of my puberty years. I will not accept theories as to why these distracting red things are starting to pop out of my face, thank you very much.

My feet is experiencing the worst drought in history. I think they're trying to tell me that I should stop wearing slippers and ditch the whole homegirl getup. Fuck thos fake havaianas Chino bought me. Just fuck them, not me.

I am fearing that none of my friends will attend my 18th birthday celebration (let's just call it a celebration, just to be safe. I don't want people complaining about it if I call it a party because surely, I don't know how to throw one. I know how to celebrate, though.)


And you know, with all of these superficial problems I currently have, it's a wonder why I'm still not complaining about how my life is getting suckier and suckier each day. It's probably because I'm not getting any good things from complaining and in fact, it's also somewhat getting tiring already. It's not always fun to be so pessimistic, you know.

So yeah, before the 20th comes, I'm gonna present a list that will show you all that my life is not sucky, after all.

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Baguio was fun.

Well, yeah, if it wasn't for the fact that we stayed in our house for almost half of the vacation time and ate till our tummies ached. The damn engine of our car failed to start twice, and for all we knew the battery couldn't take the friggin temperature drop.

And yeah, I couldn't too. But that's what made me fall in love with Baguio City more.

I can't wait for another round at the slopes.

Newsflash

So, here goes nothing.

As of this writing, I'm in cubicle #14 in an internet cafe in a famous shopping mall here in Baguio City. I don't have any idea why in the world I agreed to pay fifty pesos just to access the internet for an hour when I can just wait for two more days till we finally leave this cold city for Manila. All I know is, Chino texted me yesterday just to ask me if I have a new blog entry. It seems like the previous one is old news already, and my stalkers are probably dying to know my whereabouts. Unfortunately, due to time constraints, this entry won't be as elaborative as my other posts. So yeah. just bear with me, if you must.

1. Course card day went by roughly, as my professor figuratively smacked me in the face with my course card for physics with a faded 0.0 grade written on the final grade box. It was hard accepting my first failure, because as you all probably know, I've been such a physics nerd all my life. But in the long run, I realized that it was really my own fault as to why I failed engineering physics. I slacked off this term, and it's even a wonder that I was able to pass integral calculus.
I'll just do better next term and quit fooling my ass around so I won't get any 0.0's anymore.

Oh this is real bullshit. EPIC FAIL AT ITS BEST.

2. Surprisingly, my mom was able to drive all the way to Baguio from Manila without unleashing her usual hysterics that would commonly pop out when an MMDA officer would ask her to pull up on a curb. I'm proud of you, momma. You're such a good example to all other mothers out there. I swear.

Well, that's it for me. I'm out. See you all when I go back in Manila. :)

My Wonderwall

I used to think that people who are deeply in love are just the shallowest of all human beings. I mean, why the hell do you have to sacrifice things for some other person, when you can just enjoy those things on your own without giving them up? It's not being selfish, it's just living your life to its fullest. You sacrifice for yourself, not for others.

Well, those were the days when I was still heavily sourgraping about this boy who broke the shit out of my heart. I thought it was all real, then POOF! He just wanted my you-know-what all along. And since then, I've become such a skeptic when it comes to love. It was all "who needs love when you have Cadbury?", or to be more blatant, "why love when you can just eat?". God, my mantras suck big time. It's no wonder that I keep on getting fatter and fatter every single day. And as my days as a single fatass went by, the more torpid my heart became. I cussed at every romantic scene my eyes would fall into, and would sometimes think that the couples I would see at the train are about to break up. Damn, what a bitter pig.

And then, I met him.

We did not meet in a conventional way, but amidst that, I felt that he's far more different than any of those guys I've met before. It was also good to know that he's not my schoolmate, because for some weird reason, I just don't like the feeling of going out with someone from the same school as I am. It would be pretty boring, really. As days go by, exchanges of text messages became really incessant. There was this one time during the christmas vacation, when we practically just talked until the sun literally showed up outside of our windows. You would've thought that we've already gotten sick of talking to each other about almost everything, but it's as if we still thirsted for more and more and more chances of blabbing and blabbing. I thanked God for finally letting me meet a person that's as talkative as me.  

We made sense out of things that seemed so nonsensical: peeing in the pool, getting stuck in a cubicle of a washroom with no tissue, getting shit stuck in your nails, Pikachu's potential contribution to the MRT and LRT lines, and so on and so forth. We laughed at the most superficial of ideas the world has to offer. He would call me every Friday night and share dead air moments with me and still end up enjoying every single second of it. He would wake himself up at 5am in the morning just to give me missed calls to wake me up for school, even if his classes are in the late morning. Even if he gets to get home early because of his class schedule, he still waits for me in his school until I get dismissed so we can virtually go home together. And after talking to me for technically every minute of the day, he would still miss me. 

And everytime he would hug me, it's as if my heart's gonna break out of my chest any time. 

Now I understand why people choose to sacrifice for the person they love. It's not being blinded by your feelings or emotions, but it's about giving your everything for that person. He makes me feel that I deserve everything he's doing because I helped him change into a better person. I make him feel that he deserves every bit of sacrifice I'm doing because he brings out the best in me like no other can do. 

For you, thank you for coming into my life. You're everythng I've wanted and needed and more. :)

Because maybe

You're gonna be the one that saves me

And after all

You're my wonderwall 

Swimming in Chocolate

Let me tell you a story.

Yesterday was my final examination for LBYCH11/ChemLab. I did minimal studying the night before, yet to my surprise, I was still able able to answer the items. It sure was a good thing that the final examination was held at V415 or hence the drawing room, where the stools and drawing tables are far apart from each other. There was this one part in the test that wants us to identify the names of the illustrated laboratory apparatuses. I found the last item so hilarious (because of two things: I don't know what the hell it was, and damn, it sure does look like a friggin bottle.), that I kept on snickering like a pilyo kid. Good thing my nose holes flare up to a radius of 10cm.

So yeah, after the exam, my friends and I did our own errands and came together for our last regular day as freshman students. We reminisced those funny like HELL moments, which are all still lingering in our minds. Like that time when our algebra professor arrived wet n' wild, with just a few seconds remaining for the class to be adjourned because she's late, and that time when we were still getting to know each other, trying to get accustomed with everybody's personality. Ah, you just gotta love these eng people. They make even the corniest and cheesiest of jokes seem so hilarious. I don't want to spend my college life with anyone else other than you guys.

After trying to defy Chino's pulling arms as he dropped me off at the LRT station, I climbed upstairs to ride the train so I can go home and get myself some sleep already. But as I felt the heat getting stronger and stronger, I texted Monica and invited her for a dip in the pool. Who wants to sleep in this time of the day, when the sun's fucking everybody's brains out anyway? And man, I miss the pool more than anything else. I don't care if people would see my bulging fat, or end up getting a bad tan. I just want to swim and swim; my body's thirsting for some chlorine-infested water.

As I arrived home, I prepared my things and asked Monica to pick me up, since she loves driving anyway. I rummaged my mom's bathroom for a sunblock but sadly, I found nothing. Looks like I'm really in for a bad tan. But I didn't really care. I waited for Monica downstairs, and when she arrived, boy, I just felt this weird excitement all over me. I want to swim! Let's swim now! Please! JP! Rudy! Penguin! Man, I miss those good times. I remember asking my maid to ask my coach's name way way back, and the name 'dipri' was born. My coach's name is JP, actually. I don't know where the hell she got 'dipri'.

But Monica, being the bitch that she truly was, had to eat her super late lunch at their house. I just sat and watched her enjoy her meal, while my body was already begging me to plunge in the pool already. We went upstairs so we can get over the whole 'Ooh-look-I-have-a-rockband' thing already. And well, we played.

We friggin played.

And I swear to God, rockband is AWESOME. The microphone is awesome. The drum set is awesome. But the fender guitar? Nah, I'd rather play with my GH guitar. I had fun singing while Monica played with the drums. The drum set looks pretty complex, but after this term ends, I would spend every day playing that shit. And I want to spend my birthday in Frii Spirit, too. God, please send me some cash.

After completing System of A Down's Chop Suey, we left their house and walked our way to the village clubhouse. My eyes formed big circles as I saw the sparkling pool. We quickly payed the fee and picked a cottage to put our things in. I took off my clothes so rapidly and jumped in the pool as soon as i threw my towel on the bushes. 

And well, the rest of the afternoon was history. We bonded like two kids from different schools, talked about our professors and our subjects, and of course, our respective crushes. After she dropped me off at our house, I hurriedly went to my room to look at my face. My cheeks were burning and my arms are all tan. But I didn't dwell too much on how I really looked like, but it was how much everything has changed since, oh I don't know, forever? 

Yesterday was definitely the day that I realized how many endeavors I was able to get through already. I'll be leaving my teenage years in a month, and all I can say is, I am ready to face another chapter in my life. I was already able to get through my insecurities and be contented to what I already have during these years and I only have myself to thank for. I'm smart. I'm pretty. I'm responsible. I'm mature. And even if others would try to contradict everything I've said, you should know that I know myself better than all of you do. 

Womanhood? Sure. Count me in. 

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I saw you again. 

I tried to divert my attention to something else, but to my misery, I failed.

It's you that I still want, and crave for.

It's you that I want to be with.

Cuz my heart starts beating triple time 
With thoughts of lovin' you on my mind 
I can't figure out just what to do 
When the cause and cure is you, you 

I love you. I really do. Please be with me. I'm ready to give in, I swear.

Damn you, chocolates. You got me again.