This is Why I Love School So Much

And this is why I love school so much…

Note: I take it back. The previous post isn’t the last post for the year. Actually, I’m kind of guilty that THIS is the last post of the year. It’s a negative post. Negative for my family, positive for ME and my SCHOOL. I wonder why CKSC students hate their school ‘cause I love it.

This was written out of anger conceived from my so-called home. Yes, people. SO-CALLED. Sorry, people I am not martyr enough to pretend that I’m happy in this. In fact, I think only a few people could relate to me in this post. Perhaps, Arianne, Aldric and Kenny only?

10. I get to be with the people I come to love (more than anything else other than LL) and rarely come to hate. MY FRIENDS. MY CLASSMATES. MY TEACHERS.
MY SCHOOLMATES.
They would never reprimand me even if I do something stupid. 'Sides, it's not my fauly I'm NOT a dupe. Apparently my mind matured faster than they thought it would. They don't really like kids who have opinions. Maybe they should go adopt Hilary Duff. (Btw, even Paris Hilton has a brain more opinionated than Duff's)

9. There is freedom to laugh and sing and act and express myself. Most especially to LAUGH. God, even coughing is prohibited in my SO-CALLED HOME.

There is freedom to voice out! You can recite anytime you want!

8. I am deprived of modern technology. Which is a good way of self-control. I mean, I’m not really good at self-control (is it obvious?) – I’m good with procrastination. But in school, I get to control myself.

7. I learn how to socialize.

6. I can be myself forever in school! I can talk about LL and Britney Spears’ friendship bond anytime! I can hate math without someone telling me to love it. I can flunk English on purpose because of rebelling reasons. I can enjoy Filipino immensely because, believe it or not, Ms. Reggie is my favorite teacher.

I could embarrass myself without feeling embarrassed because I know that my friends are there to support mo.

ALL OF THE ABOVE IS ME. ME ME ME ME ME – someone I couldn’t be when I am at home because I have to be damned prim and proper! WTH? ME? PRIM? PROPER? Opposite! That’s the opposite! Just because I’m the daughter of a freaking doctor? No thank you! I’d rather rebel!

5. I can continue writing blog posts. Or diary entries in school. People peek at my diary at home.

4. I could cry and people would ask me why.

That means they care. Unlike people out there.

3. I could win my debate arguments because I do make a point.

2. Music isn’t noise. My schoolmate’s loud talkativeness – that I usually hate especially if it’s Kennard blabbering – would be Music to my ears COMPARED to my father’s SO-CALLED “tenor” voice. It should be noted here that WE ARE not allowed to sing – he’s the only who has the permission.
My mother’s booming voice, too.

By the way, I have this hearing disorder called tinnitus and some (SOME! Judge the word) partial deafness. You REALLY cannot blame me for iPodding all day and all night. At least, that’s MUSIC.

1. They are the family I’ve always dreamed of. ALWAYS. I would feel loved NOT in a mushy mushy way! Ewww… MUSHY way love is only acceptable if it’s romance (with the opposite sex). It’s just a matter of feeling. You know these people love you back NOT in a mushy mushy way. In a friendly way. You know that the school itself loves you back.

End of List.

Don’t get me wrong, okay. It’s not that I HATE my family, dislike it or am unhappy with it. I never said anything like that. I just need an outlet for this. I don’t even know what this is. MY father is just so strict in wrong ways. It’s overprotectiveness na sobrang wala sa lugar. There – I spoke in Filipino. You know what that means right?

My Yuletide

The year is going to end in less than 500 hours. It sounds freaky, if you’re taking it all negatively – this year-ending phenomenon.

I suggest you shouldn’t because you really can feel the Christmas spirit in the air. At least, I always do. And it’s not because of the gifts. It’s all about the memories.

And hopefully, the memories I have left marked in your skin, or heart, or head would soon never vanish – would soon stay until next Christmas.

‘Cause all ends are beginnings – you already know that!

BUT wait. This post doesn’t end there.

In fact, even though that may seem like the “ending”, it’s only just the beginning (yeah, you already know that!).

It’s been 5 years (4 or 6?!) since I last mailed dear Santa Claus a letter asking for my very materialistic wishes but that doesn’t mean I don’t have wishes this year. They’re just not that materialistic anymore. Or in any way superficial. Because my Christmas wish list this year would be: happiness. Not for me, because my happiness is already granted. But for others. Like my family, my friends, EVERYONE, and even Santa himself.

I want them to feel the happiness that springs into my heart and leaps into my blood as if the body’s just a flowing river waiting for thirst to subside eternally – forever and ever.

I want YOU to feel the blessedness of the season the same way I felt it. It’s the happiest Christmas of my life, for goodness’ sake!

I want them to feel as MUCH if not MORE.

Because it feels like….life. It’s like all your burdens, problems and complications leave your body – leaving a healthy, overjoyed being that aims to spread joy.

And I know, deep down, I know that I made some despondent people happy – in one way or the other (oh, you know who you are and I know you’re admitting that too!). That’s what makes me happy.

Just this Christmas – and for the New Year, or forever.

I also want to thank EVERYONE who played a part in my obnoxious, complex life because it is clear to me that everyone taught me something – even the littlest of details (if only puwede kong isa-isahin ginawa ko na). THANKS to EVERYONE – especially to my family and friends!

Thanks to CKSC, too for teaching me things that life could no better beyond teach me how to. I am so glad what with all the turning points of events.

For one, I know that those “events” would lead me into the path of life that destiny would bring me to. Knowing that makes me happy. Knowing that makes me fulfilled.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!

May Santa grant my wish and yours as well. May you be blessed with a brighter light this season.

And remember, yuletide starts with ‘y’. And ‘y’ stands for YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When Good Girls Go Loco

Little Miss Goody Two Shoes – people expect from her (especially the Chinese teachers), when she fails, people keep asking her what happened.

And that, people, is what I am feeling at this very month of December.

I wanna be a bad girl who flunks and does not care.

If a good girl flunks, she cares.

You see, it’s EASIER being bad than good.

(In terms of Academics, you guys)

Because “good” needs traits: hardwork, time, prioritization, organized stuff and lack of messiness.

Apparently, I have NONE of those above. And I don’t plan to have any. At all.

The pressure and the expectations (in Chinese, you guys) are just too high for me to reach. Because I don’t care. I’m not supposed to CARE because I DON’T want to CARE. I’m a stubborn bee. You can’t force me to like something I don’t.

Yet when I test my “goody-girlness”, I pass. I mean, like when there is a test the next day, I WON’T study the night before and then when the test comes in my face, I suddenly cram everything to my head and get at least an 85.

My point is, I don’t want to care about my Chinese grades anymore so I could focus on waning my stress and sleeping more at night. BUT I CAN’T!!!!!

WHY IS IT SO HARD FOR ME TO TURN INTO A BAD GIRL?
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?

IS IT BECAUSE OF THE GENETICS? SOMETHING IN MY DNA?

AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS NEVER CHEATED ON A FREAKING CHINESE TEST?

It’s exigent.

I guess, the 5 good traits don’t matter anymore (as I end this post, I mean). Because I think I have the ultimate trait that would reign above all – and that’s guilt.

PEACE.

I Remember...

I remember…

…the weirdest thing I have ever done.

I was 5 back then. Or 6. Maybe. I was fond of experimenting with stuff because my curiosity went more than it should have at that time.

I liked mixing different stuff because I thought I could create solid rock/pebbles/stones and then put them beside Jennifer and the good old fairies (Jennifer: the name of a doll that used to be so popular. I hate Barbie by the way).

One time, I grabbed the nearest plastic cup and filled it with a half-cup of water, poured Shampoo in it (I still remember the brand!), took a piece of soap and dropped it there, stole my mother’s lotion, put some anonymous creams that my mind could not fathom, put isopropyl alcohol, coke, and other fluids that would make you puke when combined all together.

I stirred (using a short barbeque stick), and stirred. I had an idea forming in mind – I was going to pour it to our huge balete tree somewhere in the backyard and then – poof! – after a day, that tree would grow diamonds!

I poured the disgusting, yuck molded mixture slash compound to that poor ‘ole balete tree and felt chemistry between satisfaction and, at the same time, guilt for I knew that my misled doings would wind up to the tree’s inevitable death.

The next day, I saw a HUGE diamond-looking crystal thingy in the loamy soil of the faithful balete and then I quickly dragged my father to see what marvelous thing I had invented. So I did. And when we got to that spot, the diamond thingy vanished, leaving me wanting to make another experiment and HUMILIATED for inviting my father to my so-called “genius debut”. And then I saw my aunt carrying said thingy, she said it was gonna be used as part of the props that some student is going to use. My hopes fell. No more genius thingy.

I was embarrassed!

But seriously, did you do that when you were a kid?

I hope I’m not the only weird one.

Dedicated to My Star-Studded Celebrity

What is it that you have that other people don’t?

What is it that you have that I just continue to have a penchant for?

Is it your intriguing life?

Is it your menacing talent which now seems to fade away with youth?

I don’t know. You still have it even if you’ve changed so much. You have become nasty and trashy and filthy all the way. But why did you ever go away from being clean?

I wish you have never changed. Sure, you learned a bundle of cerebral (and arterial) knowledge that schools can offer – but you learned it the hard way. You gave in to the temptations the world had to offer. Are you still tempted? Because knowing you back then, you were not. In fact, I saw no trace of any paw print of temptation.

Why did you do the crime? Why did you commit the crime of leaving one’s self for the worse?

Change is three things.

First, you change for the better. Second, you change (for the ugly/worst) because society pushes you through. Third, you don’t change – you just take off your mask.

And I don’t know if the mask has been there all along.
Or if the society is too much of a bitch for you to succumb.

I wanna help you. Because it is pathetic. The world is not so cruel if you look and listen. Why don’t you listen to me? Why don’t you look at me?

Don’t be like that. Please don’t.

As I seek to help other people and can’t seem to find ones that don’t work, I realize. The one person I need has been there since I was 8. You.

Don’t change back. Keep changing forward.

Because what’s “forward” is a whole lot better than left and right.

Isn’t it always like that?

Yes, it is.

Don’t forget to look back. And don’t forget to look at what’s hiding in your hindsight – because you will learn from it. And don’t forget, too, to look at what’s beside you. Battle your way out of this mess – dirt is hard to clean when it has stayed there long enough; when you clean it, it will have residues but residues can go away leaving only a trace of memory behind (which is what we really see when we look at cleaned-up-residues). If you don’t clean the residues, then there’s no memory left at all. Remember: leave a mark that makes a statement, not otherwise.

Because I will always believe in you – even if that sounds the most unrealistic thing I have ever stated.

Today is your turning point. Jump at it. Like what you said: “Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away”. (That was one thing that marked!).

Most of all, when you go forward, promise not to go away.

I miss you.

Forgetfulness

A biography won’t be complete without the life of the person being written about.

In THIS fictional autobiography, I am the writer and the one being written about.

And here’s an update about my LIFE.

Well, I think I’ve finally done it.

I have reached my current potential. And I’m loving it.

It’s like I forgot how to be mad, sad, angry, irritated, on the verge of suicide.

It’s like my memory ran away from my heart and brain. Because, I really did forget how o be all those.
I EMBRACE MY WHIMSICALITY!

Thank this year for making me stronger!

It’s life in a new light.

And the light is not one pint of a burden.

I love it.

I’m finally living it.

And I’m never gonna leave.

I love life.

Live. Love. Let Go.

Amazing.

Confessions of a Teenage B*****

Note: Do not read this post if you have a rather faint, non-profane heart. Or ear. OR eyes. I warn you.

I promise to mention the word at most 5 times. If you wanna know what the hullabaloo (CRAP. DID I JUST TYPE THE WORD?) is all about, just listen. I mean, read.

Recently, I discovered a strong fetish, love, like, (passion?) with the word BITCH. I don’t know. It’s really weird because back then (a year ago, perhaps?) I was amazingly obsessed with the word SLUT. Later (perhaps, a few months ago?), I rekindled my romance with like words. I became obsessed with DAMN.

Now, few months later, I find myself OBSESSED with the word BITCH. AMAZING.

Is it because I myself am a bitch?

Is it because it’s female dog?

Is it because when you utter it, it gives you a funny feeling?

Is it because Lindsay Lohan is a bitch (not a SLUT, y’all!)

Oops. I think I mentioned the word four times now.

Anyway, what is a bee?

(Bee is a rather euphemistic version of the B* word). The perfect definition of a bee is someone perhaps who talks in an ear-splitting way, bossy (like for real), uhhmm what else? Kinda like me. But I am not that kind of BEE you know. You know, the one you’re thinking about.

What is NOT a bee?

Bees are no sluts.

Bees are not dirty.

Bees are not backstabbing bees.

What is basically a bee?

It lies perfectly well in the PERSONALITY. NOT the trait.

That personality is, just as I mentioned, ear-splitting, bossy, irritating (at times but not ALWAYS!).. but in nature LIKEABLE especially when you get to know her. (Yes, I used ‘her’). And besides, you’ll learn a lot from her. Just like her friends say say. Bees teach you know!

I guess I’m still obsessed. I hope this lasts much longer. It’s so relaxing, saying the word.

‘Sides, you’ll probably hear me saying/screaming/yelling it out loud anyway.

BITCH!!!!

Scraps From My Diary

I’m happy.

Heck, that won’t be my topic today.

But seriously, I know what makes me happy – I mean the exact but general term for all this rainbow-y spongecake mood. Ewww. Gross. You should know that I hate icky, squicky feelings like that. I’m more like a… I don’t know, I’m more like a …a HARD CANDY! Finally! I have finally found the right modifier that defines me! This is a revelation.

Enough of the bright, sunny exclamation marks.

They make me sick.

What makes me happy is the hope that lingers inside me. The hope that I’ll be fine. The hope that my world will be fine. And I don’t know REALLY how this thing happened. Must be the Christmas spirit! I LOVE Christmas. Man, you should have known how lonely I was when my family couldn’t spend Christmas 2005 when my grandparents painstakingly passed away. (Chinese tradition, you guys). I have always believed in Santa Claus – even now! Kidding… Do you want me to spoil the whole thing for you (if there happen to be any kids ogling at my blog)? Well, St. Nicholas used to be like this gift-giving guy who LOVED giving gifts to the poor and the unprivileged. It kinda became a seasoned thing for people’s eyes so when Santa died; everyone started mustering crowds giving gifts to the less privileged. And poof! That became the widespread epidemic known as: Santa Claus. I’m not so sure about the reindeers though.

Oh P.S. Let me give a stupid lecture first about the word reindeer. I used to hate it when people used the word “deers”. Seriously, it does not freaking exist, stupidos! (No offense, I’m kidding). But there is an exception to the freaking rule – reindeers. With an S at the tail. So yeah, that’s it. I just …hate it when people commit errs LIKE THAT.

Back to topic. What was I gonna say again? Other than the fact that I’ve been writing nonsense posts these days about stuff like Jura(ssic) – enough, hmmmm I don’t really know what to write in my posts. I mean I got tons of drafts saved here. The thing is, I don’t want them to be all googly-eyed and rainbow-y. It icks me out! Seriously.

So instead of doing that, I just came up with this thing.

Top 5 Reasons Why I Hate Yahoo Messenger

1. The Emoticon Factor

There’s really nothing wrong with putting emoticons to your blog especially when you’re in a positive mood or just sharing a nice conversation with your friends. BUT when things GET convoluted, you don’t really know what this crappy thing : ) means. Or what this :)) means too ( look at it! It has a freaking double chin). It could be sarcasm, it could be cute. But it’s definitely killing verbal and nonverbal communication.

2. The Crap Factor

It’s a Saturday and you just got home from club meetings and some lunch. You open your computer and sign in to Y! Messenger to see if any of your ever-so-there pals are online. You finally sit down to enjoy a relaxing pursuit, I mean, it’s the Internet – the Big Big House of Everything…and then crap, Y! M starts to bog down! And there you go your internet mood is finally ruined.

Of course, there’s always Blogger, you know. (Just the cbox. I can’t sign in)

3. The I-AM-BUSY Factor

Your mom BELLOWS that the Internet is simply for research and E-Mail. Most especially NOT for chatting. But because YM is so addicting, you disobey. In the end, you know that she is right. You hate YM for corrupting your mind.

4. The Damned Life Factor

Seriously, you can’t help but wonder why people’s lifestyles take u-turns and stop at YM gasoline stations? What makes YM so magnetic? I wonder. Considering there’s really nothing in it than typos, smileys in a tyranny of false pretense, profuse stupid stat messages and what else? Oh yeah. Funny YM names. So basically, YM makes me wonder why it makes other people think their life is damned.

5. The King of the World Factor

YM thinks it’s the king of the world. Why? Because it eats up your computer in one freaking large gobble and then spits it out like Mean Girls-y vomit. DISGUSTING! Not to mention very b(don’t let me say the b-word please, it’s my favorite word of the season). How? By spreading bugs, spywares and viruses. Although I can’t really remember when it was (think it was summer) when my whole computer got virus-infested because of ONE STUPID OFFLINE MESSAGE WHICH CONTAINED STUPID CHAINED THINGIES.

They all didn’t know that the culprit was me because the technician truthfully said that it was a virus caused by my father’s CD. But in my heart of hearts and in my deepest deep, I will always, always, forever think and KNOW that it was ME. YM, I mean.

I wrote that semi-post weeks ago, though.

Goodbye, Good World

‘TIS THE SEASON TO BE JOLLY! FA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA.

Christmas is coming! I’m so excited! Can’t wait! Can’t wait to have all the Fruit Salads (my fave holiday food).

But before that happens, I first have to say a few stuff.

Like:

Goodbye.

Maybe I’d do monthly posts from now on. Or yearly. For days when I stopped YM-ing and Netting, I was happy. It’s the internet which makes me go loco (because of unavoidable Lindsay L bad news). THIS is FANTASY world anyway – real (original) is better. ALWAYS. Anyway, just expect posts from me during the summer – unless I hibernate. Bottomline is, I want to be THIS ecstatic forever. I want to be THIS happy forever. Besides, I’m not a techie-geek or just a simple Techie. I don’t belong in Techie world. I belong in AND to the real world. Where all things make me happy especially the people I love.

Don’t expect me to go YM if it’s not “business” because rats are too busy dancing in the sewer (OOPS! Did I just spill my big big secret about rats? I was kidding – just being happy). Another secret: I’m on DRUGS! Kidding, too! Just being cheerful. The deal is: I’m making up for the sleep I lost. (And, another secret: I’m too busy eating – I wanna make up for the pounds I lost. Don’t wanna be anorexic! BLEECKKK. ‘sides the food is too fruit salad-y to neglect).

But I’ll drop by sooner or later – like on Friday nights.

Invincible!

I am invincible.

Thanks to Jurassic. I owe her a life, I think. She made me happy, I think. She taught me something – the most important thing in the universe. Apparently, it was only I who heard it. It was only I who listened to it. It was only I, who noticed it. And most of all, it was only I whom it was directed to.

Jurassic, I’ve never said anything like this to a teacher before – and this is lame because (OMG, brace yourself) – you are THE light. The one that I need this school year.

Here is what happened: I was bored. Yet my Chinese teachers say that I look like Ms. Goody-Two Shoes, you know, a responsible student who likes to study, whose ‘Zhuo Wen’ has substance (trust me, it was the only thing that pulled my grades up in said teacher’s subject above all, someone who listens to the discussion. The last one is oh so false. But not anymore! I started – that day, listening to what she was saying. Of course, I expected her to call me for recitation – she ALWAYS calls me. Never has it been a day without her calling me, anyway, I always answer in English. That makes her smile – it’s rare.

But whatever, this post is STARTING to disgust me.

EWWWWW.

So I listened.

The bell rang. Right when the bell rang, she muttered something NOT so deep but something easy to see but hard to notice. Maybe I am gifted. I really am talented in that kind of stuff. It was shallow but deep, hard to understand, but easy to forget. It was ADVICE – something all along that HAS been right in front of me – looking at me but I never looked back at it. IT WAS ADVICE FROM A SAGE.

Thank you, Jurassic. Thank you.

You have made me realize that I have always helped people using my feelings, words and opinions. But I don’t get to apply this to myself.

Your advice will move the mountains in my head. Your advice, moreover, would change my life. And I’m not gonna let anyone do it for me.

Signing off,
Catherine.

I Love You

Today, I’ll tell you, where in the world I’ve been for the past week.

I call it happy land.

Oh God, did I just say that?

That sounds so freaking lame! I need to think of a better name. OOOH! Let’s just call it a quarter of Heaven. You know, like a room somewhere in Heaven. Because, believe me, I think I’ve been there. And, believe me, that was the happiest week of my life.

It still is! November is my month. And hopefully this never ends till the next year! I gotta say though, I gotta give credit (like three-fourths of the billion bucks) to… (guess who!) 2-5!

I do NOT wanna squeal about it, I don’t wanna babble about it. All I have to say is, that in all of my 13 year old life: I. Am. Happy. For. The. First. Long-lived. Time.

One-fourth that is left by the three-fourths has to be given to me and my family. HECK WHAT, I am happy and it does not matter who granted me the happiness. I still get pissed every now and then but, come on, that DOES not disrupt my happiness. Amazing. Life is so amazing. Happiness is so not short-lived.

And by the way, I’ll give you an update about the Pros and Cons of being in 2-5 (the one post I did back in my old blog which is now deleted forever). Back then, the tally was equal. Like, tied. Now it’s not. I have made serious thinking and I don’t care about the difficulty of Math and I think the Christmas spirit is giving me hints – I’m staying in 5. Forever and ever and ever. I will kill whoever tries to get me out of that place. Kidding! I will try to get as much perfect scores in Math as possible! (so far, I’ve only collected one but thankfully, I haven’t failed any yet! YIPEE!) I love the world. I love it so much. Damn, have you ever seen me THIS cheerful? FOR A WEEK? SERIOUSLY? Nope. This month is a first. And also, you should thank me for not using too much exclamation marks. I just don’t see the point in typing too much. It only hurts the eyes!

Whatever, I’m happy.

It’s like I’m on drugs. And I realize why people don’t wanna get rid of drugs – it’s ecstasy. Oh boy, life is so good.

2-5, I say this: I love you.

S. O. L.

S.O. L.

People, the title doesn’t mean anything related to the sun. It doesn’t mean anything at all! Except for: SCREAM OUT LOUD. Because that’s the exact thing I WANNA do right now other than travel the world.

I have never been so happy my whole entire life even though I know I will be soon! You have probably heard me say that back then during my older, way older blog posts. But seriously, I think this one’s the longest-lasting!!! SCREAM OUT LOUD. My heart cannot contain this much anticipation, excitement and ecstasy! It’s like I’m on drugs. It’s like I’m on crystal meth. It’s like I’m like Fergie on crystal meth. It’s like I’m like Lindsay Lohan on cocaine (although, peace Linds, I know you’re done with that stage in life : ) .

I AM UNFAZEABLE!!!
I demand you to faze me!

PLEASE FAZE ME! This happiness is scaring me to hell!

Speechless Emotional

I have been so busy lately – no, not doing homework because I got that in the bag; no, not because of overthinking stupid things, I got over that; no, not worrying about my hunger strike, I eat now; no, not because of the guild, I really got that in my pockets; no, not because of the stupid poem we need to memorize; and no, not because of STUPIDER things like uhm, school. You know what I’ve been so busy about? Rats. Like, rat poop. I mean seriously, I got no yaya so that means no one does the chores at home and the rats come out and play. There’s a massive “tambak” of unwashed laundry down the hamper.

Despite the lack of time (btw, Time is my greatest enemy FOR REAL. URRRGGHH!!) and energy, I was able to compose a poem. It’s dedicated to a person.

I trashed you.
And stashed you.
I still want you.
That’s why I found out I needed you

I know things are gone
But new things have come
And I’m happy
That you came back to me

You’re the only one in my heart
Who needs to play the part
Who cares to show me how you feel
Throughout the drawbacks you stood still

The world crashed before my eyes
And I thank God for bringing you to my life
I know that days come and you stay
And I’m speechless, got nothing to say

As I write songs to express,
My emotions got too much to address
All I know is that when you’re there, it’s true
By the way, I think I’m in love with you.


P.S Thanks for making me feel like I’m the best creature in the world! Even if that poem isn’t all that of a masterpiece, I wouldn’t care. I’d make it my last blog post if that’s a request; because I already asked too much requests from you. I’m just glad you’re there. That’s all there is to say.

And my nerves thump as I write this…

Don’t ever, ever go away. Please don’t.

Do NOT

Note: Don’t read if you’re going to think crap about me. Don’t read if you would only hate me for writing this. Don’t read at all if you’re here to criticize and NOT listen. Don’t make a sound. Shut up.

Self-actualization – the ability of a person to achieve his or her FULLEST potential. (I guess that’s what it means).

But how can you be self-actualized if your self-esteem is down? Well, the self-esteem I built last year with the help of a lot of people – ESPECIALLY teachers is as of now DOWN. I mean, it’s destroyed. It’s probably down in the drain now. It’s gone. Totally gone. And I give credit to my sister, the world and myself for downing it. Thank you for obliterating it! It’s gone, that’s what you WANTED right? Right? Why else (dedicated to my sister) would you bicker about me faultily doing stuff AND correcting my very million dollar-ish opinions if not for that? Hey, my friends tell me I give good advice and comments you know! You are the only person in the universe who does not have the grace to value my opinions – I can’t believe it. It’s beyond words. So DON’T GAIN OPINIONS ON ME AS I STATE IT. That’s the problem with the world. They judge your personality through your words. Damn. I mean, yeah, words reflect the personality BUT the emotions behind the words are BEYOND words to express so the world does not feel it. SO DON’T THINK ABOUT ANYTHING NEGATIVE ABOUT ME AS YOU READ THIS. Or else I’ll chop your freaking empty head off the same way I’d decapitate anyone who goes bitching about me. Get it?

Of course you do. RIGHT?

Don’t judge me from my past. I repeat DON’T JUDGE ME FROM MY PAST. Because I KEEP on NOT judging you from your past. I keep on judging things from the present. What’s more I understand them, digest them, and ingest them bit by bit. Everyone judges, true. Everyone will always judge. But that’s the unfair thing in judgment, it’s either you judge it right or judge it wrong. It only depends on how you look at it. But the ironic thing about judging is, you got no right or wrong answers. IT ONLY DEPENDS ON THE PERSEPECTIVE. So don’t dare. Don’t think. Don’t move a neuron. I order you. I demand you. Or just don’t read this post if you’re gonna trash it. DON’T. I don’t.

Fictional Autobiography of a Teenage B*****

My evil goal is to make someone cry. It sounds, bitchy does it not?

Hell I don’t care. I just have to release this evil doppelganger before my world spins three hundred degrees to the South and gradually die of dizziness.

I have a specific, almost too easy target and I’m aiming at this person with vigorous accuracy. I am equipped with the perfect shiny, metallic angel-spawned, pistol-lookalike crossbow.

I got two more months to take on the mission. And a lot can happen in two months you know.

Then I’ll start nanchucking this atrocious, anathema-like CARICATURE and object of mockery.

Oh no, it’s not a curse. It’s just that I’m in a certain position to do that, you know. Whatever it is. I just want you to know that you are so stupid.

With every sense or definition of the word. Here is how stupid you are:

See that? It’s blank. And that means? You are blank. You are blah. There is nothing on your mind. Your opinion vault is highly empty and your thinking bank is currently and SEMPITERNALLY bankrupt. Your outermost values shine through an opaque caricature of dullness and bluntness. Which is ironic. I know, I know. You don’t get what I say because it’s meant to be that way. I don’t want you to get what I say. I mean, YOU ARE STUPID, RIGHT? Of course you are. The only ability you have is the power to WANT TO BE. (And in street smart slang, that’s OVERRATED WANNABE). Half of the world’s non-sagacious people dwell on your life just for humor and mockery. By the way, in case you don’t know, mockery means POKING FUN AT. And humor means comedy.

The world hates you. So why do you want to be loved by the world so forcefully that you step on other people’s plates? WHY must you bug us with your stupid, feeble, fickle-minded voice when we deserve some peace and quiet? We – the righteous ones, the ones who have opinions, statements and the insignia of true life. Not some fanciful place where unicorns thrive and feed on ice cream, rainbow-sprinkled cupcakes that were baked by the Ice Faerie. No. So don’t ever think it is that way. DON’T.

Don’t think you’re perfect. Because you are not. No one like you would ever be perfect. You are nothing but a second-grade trying hard low-life who deserves to spoil milk curd and just curl up and be belittled and demeaned to a point where you don’t want to live anymore. YOU DON’T DESERVE THIS WORLD. No. Not much less do you deserve to survive.

And I win. I WILL always win OVER people like YOU. Stupid. Extremely. Barely readable. Barely thinking. Barely Human. Barely Original. Barely Pure. Barely True. Everyone smart knows who you really are – unless you have blinded them with your “cunning” bluntness. Keep the façade but take the mask off. Quick. Before I rip it off your scorching hell-spawned face and throw it to the ground for the world to see. Quick. Before I burn it to flames that will go back to where they came from – Hell.

Fast. Before I rip that mask off your face.

Now, who’s stupid?

Now, who wins?

ProblemS?Solved

I’m banking on December.

I’m banking on Christmas.

I’m banking on the New Year.

…to pull my stuff together.

It has to be done! But thankfully, I got all the solutions to my problems down in my full pockets. Things are going great! Really great. All I have to do is move on – because I got the solutions and I’m enhancing them to their fullest potential. Right?

All I need is light, water and some nice (at least) 5-hour sleep then I will be fine!

Besides, Santa’s always there to help right? Plus, the snow is a must!

Anyway, I am kind of speechless right now, which is a rare thing if you ask me. Maybe it’s because I’m growing up again. Finally. I can’t always wait for summer for a new experience you know.

Guess it was just a hard year. Just the THOUGHT of my train-wreckyness and laziness AND procrastination makes me wanna cringe. And shudder. And writhe. With pain. Time flies by so quickly. Too quickly. Either that or the world is outgrowing time. I don’t even get sleep anymore! Damn.

“As time moves on, tell ‘em be gone ‘cos I’m moving on…”

- Elliot Yamin (American Idol)

Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen

I can’t run away from drama.

I don’t know if I’ve moved on or if I’m just being blind. I don’t know if I have moved on or if I’m just thinking it all up. But no, it’s not confusion because I can think and feel clearly.

But still, my judgments and my opinions are clouded currently.

I am unsure if it’s myself convincing me or if it’s my mind convincing me OR if it’s my heart convincing me which to choose. Then I wonder, what’s the difference?

I mean just imagine this:

You (your driven, fighting spirit) FINALLY become happy (Btw, I cut the drama part that happened before the said happiness because I moved on from it a week ago – this is new!). And then SOMEONE turns her/his/its (?) back on me because she/he/it (?) has drama too. So now I’m like dying trying to figure out if it’s me who’s right or if it’s time to lay low or if it’s me who’s the faulty drama queen. So I decided to run away from all the drama BY wallowing in self-pity. That was the time I realized that I was/am broken. Here I am now, chasing the drama I fickle-mindedly ran away from.

The thing is it happened in the span of 48 hours. Or 50.

Stupid? Of course. Why? It’s called a life cycle.

Un-freaking-believable.

Basically, spending ONLY two days in school transformed my life into a mixture comprised of happiness, solitude, angst, pity, sorrow, pain, agony, tears, complacency, apathy, love and of course, my best friend - pride (and prejudice?).

And what do you call that mixture? Drama.

Sink

The waves behind me are void
Because of the work I long toiled
Aware, beneath my heavy spirit
I sink between conscience and guilt

I freed the mighty expeditions
That aimed to pounce expectations
There wasn’t a single one missed
By sinking underneath my bliss

I let go of my memories to drain
To get rid of the powerful pain
Inside me I remain solid
For I don’t sink in today’s trepid

The water lies in the sea
Forever ‘till death it shall be
I thank you for how you rescued me
But now I shall sink to your arms for eternity.

P.S.
Until you came by me,
I was to death solitary
So I cannot express beyond anything
That to me, you’ve always been something

Translation: I am SO HAPPY! Is this surreal? Is this really happening? Happiness is so damned overrated.

Disclosure: I am not happy. I’m just…….delighted that I have AT LEAST one person who understands me, who helps me, who backs me up, who stands by, who I ignored coldly back then but am realizing how much this person means to me now, who is simply existing inside my cold, stupid, misunderstood (stranded) heart.

Dedicated to Two People

I am addicted to Hollywood yet again! Somehow, I have rekindled my love for my old yet new self because, as many of the readers of my blogs know, I used to be all about Hollywood. The dirt, the scandal, the secrets were intriguing. They were the ONLY mystery that I haven’t PERSONALLY uncovered (except for the Loch Ness Monster). I have found it again!!!! That’s thanks to Jennifer Love Hewitt (and the portable DVD player who is now as infamous as a cat) – Ghost Whisperer was addictive. Like, damned addictive. I do not know how to express this at all. But people who helped me – I could ONLY hope for them to know who they are.

And thanks. Even though I know that you rarely visit my blog.

Hope you know who you are!

Numb Damnation

Note: It's a diary entry from yesterday.

I think I’ll be wallowing in self-pity tomorrow. Disregarding the fact that we got school, some things just go attacking on me. I’m not Paris Hilton, you don’t have to scrutinize my every move you know. Sometimes if it’s me who’s wrong…or if I’m just right.

Anyway, I don’t want to care right now. Just right now. Everything’s temporary.

I want to be cold just for once.

I want to know how it feels like to be emotionless and numb to the nerves FOR THE FIRST TIME.

Just for once.

Just for once, I am tired of living this soap opera starring Shirley Maclaine, Julie Andrews, George O’Malley from Grey’s Anatomy, Mia Thermopolis from the Princess Diaries, and that hot guy from the Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency.

See, told you I’d be wallowing in self-pity soon.

People – another person has turned ITS back on me. Again. But I can’t get rid of this person because this person is… - you have to know who this person is before I let you know why. But the thing is I won’t let you know why because it’s something that I am unclear of too. So that only means that I could not disclose who the person is. Which, I think, is the most convoluted thing I have said in the entire month (week, I guess).

But I wanna be numb!

I don’t wanna be under this person’s heavy heart anymore.

I don’t EVEN wanna be in anyone’s heart at all (this is figurative and rhetorical. And yes, I am trying to be outrageously funny although I am not).

It’s something deep down and personal – only I could change the courses.

I know HOW to fix things. I ALWAYS know HOW.

I just don’t know when.

And WHERE I start.

Stupid? Yes.

I am only sure of one thing – what I want. And what I want is NOT to feel broken anymore.

I have always been broken! And I just realized the more I run from it, the more it chases. So that’s why I ALWAYS – have always WANTED to get closure for everything. I don’t like lying. I hate lying. It kills me to death. I mean, the only thing I lie about is (shh) …you know, like the fact that I broke my mother’s newly-bought glass thingy. Like the fact that I said I ate lunch today when I didn’t because… I am going insane because I can’t move. My schedule’s tight. Like dead tight. LIKE DEAD DEAD TIGHT. And some people, SOME PEOPLE just cannot get it. SOME PEOPLE who are obviously OLDER than me reprimand me for DOING NOTHING WRONG! I am innocent but blamed for every damned thing that is wrong in his life. If you know who I mean. (And, no, it’s not a family relative).

Right now, I could barely move my nerves.

I am tired. And weak. Pinch me, I might die. It’s not a social problem, not societal, not spiritual – but personal.

I know what, who, why and how.

But – Gosh, if you just know what is going on in my shoes right now.

Maybe this is it.

Maybe: There’s just so much damage that my heart cannot take it anymore. (That’s a line from Grey’s Anatomy’s Season 4 but George O’Malley was talking clinical – not cynical!).

I have moved on, yes. But that’s ONE MINOR problem. Now it’s something deep within. Personal.

Broken.

Unfixed.

Hated.

Damned.

I be damned.

Alcoholics Anonymous

If entertainment were a vice, I’d end up probably intoxicated – left in AA meetings or going to entertainment rehab – if there is. Well, I don’t know. Face it; I have been hiding myself for the past few weeks – trying constantly to avoid pathetic emotions, remembering the last step in my three step program called “Accept. Change. Move On.”

Apparently, to move on is the last step.

And that’s what I am doing. I WANT to avoid my feelings. It’s bad, I know. But I told myself I’d fix this during the summer where I could watch more movies, go out more, reconnect and socialize – be exposed to truthful people like how my summer friends always were to me. Summer is the time when I could reinvent things and fix broken ones. I won’t have to worry about anything else then. Just sweet, sweet, blissful peace.

I can’t wait to be exposed to more of my vice, my addiction, my alcohol, the solution to MY problems – watching movies, nearly deafening my poor tinnitus-harmed ears by listening to angsty Kelly Clarkson Rock songs from her album “My December” (like “How I Feel” and of course, “Never Again”. Grunge rock is my kinda rock), watching Britney Spears dance endlessly and disgustingly on the pole in her infectious song/video “Gimme More”, loving my portable DVD (which I officially, greedily declare mine now) for giving me the chance to watch two complete seasons of “Ghost Whisperer” and 1 season of “Supernatural”, and watching MORE and MORE of Giuliana Rancid (formerly de Pandi) and Ryan Seacrest each day.

But the little road trip I had, which I clearly don’t wanna talk about because SERIOUSLY, wasn’t enough to suffice my vice. Now I feel like a vampire. On the prowl…I apparently lost SO much blood and life.

The thing is, I am sick. Like so damned sick of drama. You wanna know how sick I am? I’d rather - never mind.

I will move on. I will forget the people who scarred wounded marks on my blistering heart. I will forget the ones who sprung from the ground and staked me (like a vampire) even though I don’t need to forget them because I’m forgetful enough to force myself to be able to forget them and leave finally forgettable (that won’t make sense, don’t analyze it. If ever you analyze it, it’s NOT the one in my head).

Those people gained from me. Those people gained from me and at the same time poured melted horse dung on my head after they gained from me. Call that stupid. Call that pathetic. Call that humanity. I would never trust people like them.

Who are they? Them?

There’s no point guessing who they are because you’ll get it wrong. Don’t figure this post out, world! You will only get it wrong. You ALWAYS get it wrong, world – sometimes I…I don’t even know if I really deserve to live in this world. There’s no point explaining or helping you understand what you cannot understand. No point.

But who are they? Them?

People you cannot trust – there’s a lot. There are a lot of people you can’t trust in the world. And I was stupid enough to trust them. BUT I will trust people LIKE THEM again in the near future – I know myself. The more I fall, the more I…never mind (again).

Some people like me are just better off alone.

And by “alone”, I meant with someone who also WANTS to be alone BUT with me. Like my summer friends… Damn. Maybe I should just transfer to their schools. More elite. More private. More bitchy (bitches there are bitches like me so we get along!).

But I don’t regret being in CKSC. Not one bit. Not one bit.

People have limits. You have yours. I have mine. And I have exceeded mine.

Just imagine a train wreck. It goes and it goes, it stops and goes boom!

(That was a disturbing mental image…ignore.)

So…if you could feel my lack of spice, give me spice. Cheer me up. Intoxicate me with more.

And by the way, as I end this post, I officially declare myself moved on.

(I told myself if I were to write a post about it, I would have had gone over it)

Here I am.

Peace, world.

I have moved forward. : )

Independence is Bliss

After days and days of stupid confusion, I am back! Not as the same person (it seems that every time I start a blog, I am a new person, damn) but maybe a little more……I cannot find the right words right now because I just watched TOO MUCH of “The Phantom of the Opera”. There are millions of versions but the ones that I watched was the 1989 remake which was so gory and the 2004 remake wherein the Phantom did NOT look scary at all (cue Gerard Butler!).

The cure for my listlessness was a MOVIE MARATHON. How stupid of me, I never thought of it before. Anyway, from now on, I will fall in love with every classical movie that exists.

And let us not forget “Becoming Jane” where Jane Austen has YET again glued my eyes to the tiny screen of that portable yet oh so stylish DVD player.

I just needed to erase the cleanliness of sanitary hospital walls – that’s where I “hung out” during the week of my absence from the Internet world because when your father’s a doctor who has the key to a secret, haunted bathroom (not kidding) and when your housekeeper just eloped, where would you go? – And rust that has formed in my mind for the past year/s.

So, bottom line is: I am free!!!!

Free from all of the pain, the stupidity, the foolishness and whatever-it-is-that-I-am-about-to-say-but-forgot-what.

All I have to worry about is keeping that blotched cockroach from going back to my bed room. Can you imagine? A white-spotted cockroach? Or maybe I was hallucinating – after all I am scared of cockroaches.

…the worst part is I get to kill it.

Welcome to My Life!

“Do you ever feel like breaking down? Do you ever feel out of place? Like somehow you just don’t belong and no one understands you.

No you don’t know what it’s like, when nothing feels alright. You don’t know what it’s like to be like me!

Welcome to my life”
- Welcome to My Life, a song by Simple Plan

I won’t grant you loneliness because I know how it feels like to be lonely. I won’t grant you pain because I have been pained before. I won’t grant you confusion because my mind had run heels over head once in my history. I won’t grant you too much love because too much of everything is bad – and I have crossed that path before. I won’t grant you discreet hate because I have been hated silently before and it’s a sin. I may not grant you ANYTHING at all but my humble blog posts and some bits and pieces of my life – CHANGE. That’s to play safe – because I was dangerous before.

But do not worry, maybe this post is fiction.

Or maybe it is fact.

I’m kidding, it’s non-fiction.

Don’t get confused!