Ran Out of Killer Punch Lines

Part of what I like so much about myself is my ability to see through people without thoroughly digesting them, thinking them up. Then it hit me today, when I'm mad at the world in a non-emo way for something (that "something" - a.k.a someone imitating ME which happens so dang frequently nowadays, a.k.a someone going all emo on me/the world, a.k.a someone who just plain pisses me off), I automatically spot their flaws.

Like if you're psychologically unhinged, for example. I can notice that when your status message in YM is seemingly a.) pretentious b.) constituent of words that one can hear from an "influential" person c.) constituent of a tinge of superiority complex d.) praising you in a way I can justify.

As of now, I've seen 3 people in YM whose psyche seems to me as psychologically unhinged.

Look, if you want to be "superior", make sure other "superiors" won't be able to find your flaws.


And I admit, I dedicate this post to only ONE of those 3 people. And I bet you, he won't be able to read this.

P.S. Come out, come out wherever you are!

The Bitch on the Bus: GoG Cat Fight

Just got home from the field trip. Tiring day...etc...etc. Will not focus on field trip. Will focus on the pissed-off field trip.

You see, when we got stranded on the bus, I started expressing my opinions to my classmates in the usual Catherine Way. If you do not know the "Catherine Way", well, just think of it as: aggressive, frank and straightforward (and not to mention very very very frank BUT not in a tactless way). Opinions about what, you ask? Well, opinions about how two people bond through what they HATE, not through what they LIKE. Obviously, I mentioned examples. I was all: "So if you hate stupid people, you have a mutual bond right there."

(Prior to that incident, some of our BUS MATES (will not say WHICH section) were whining, complaining, bitching and mewling over some random, trifle stuff. - that people at the front were not moving. This obviously ignited my dang neurotic nature so I guess you know where I extracted that Catherine Way.)

I blabbed on about the whole psychological research on HATE thingy until basically we started going down the dang stairs.

But all throughout the WHOLE thing, I had glimpses of this super small girl with shoulder-length hair. This girl was staring at me. And so I blabbed more because I know that her eyes contained judgment, and her eyes were scanning me from head to toe. - another tseture that suggestsed judgment. Besides, since Sophomore Year, I've been seeing this girl stare at me as if I'm: a.) a freakshow b.) Miley Cyrus c.) all of the above. Damn her. So I didn't give a damn - why the hell she did stare, I heck had no idea.

I was about to glare at her when I lunged at myself, grabbed myself by the neck and turned away. No glaring, Catherine. No catfights. No bitchiness on the bus.

But then she started whispering to her MORE glamorous friend. Obviously, the friend looked at me the same way you'd look at a barbarian. The same way you'd look at an outsider who is thrashing and trashing your friend.

I knew why and what she whispered - I heard, heck. (Bitch on the Bus doesn't know how to tone down her voice.)

She whispered that I was bitching on their section. Perhaps because their section was the one WHINING, COMPLAINING, BITCHING and MEWLING over some trifle stuff and at that time I was proclaiming my new HATE theories and just so happened, I mentioned the word "stupid". SO basically she thinks/thought/still is thinking that I am/was/still is bashing her section by calling 'em stupid!

Dang her. Bitch on the Bus ruined MY happy field trip.

And so she passed this judgment to the world.

You know if I were judgmental, I'd probably say - this girl is stupid, fugly, social climbing, slutty, short and ... have I mentioned FUGLY?

If I were tactless and uber mean, I'd probably say - "Hey, bitch, before you pass on judgment to others, look at yourself. What do you see? Besides, I demand a debate. A debate between you and me. And let's see who wins. Equipped with that brain of yours, I don't think you even know how to comprehend what it is that I say right now. Do you even understand English? Oh. Wait. My bad. I remember now - there's no such thing as stupid vs. smart. Simply incomparable. Go fug yourself and die." When I say stupid, I don't mean academically stupid. I don't mean mentall stupid either. When I say stupid, I MEAN STUPID as in "passing judgment", "jumping to conclusions" and simply "emotionally unhinged." When I say smart, I mean THOSE WHO KEEP THEIR MOUTHS SHUT.

If I basked on pride and pride alone, I'd probably scream (to the world): "I have a new principle. If you're stupid (stupid by way of the definitions stated above), you have no right to correct smart people. You're simply a waste of our effing time."

BUT NO.

I guess I'm not THAT worse.

So, instead of all those, I sit on my arse here, typing my hatred away...

...and hopefully, those three "if I's" would not come true to life. For if they do... we'll see who the bitch is.

The Tick and the Thinker

Some say it is a mortal sin - in the field of humanities - to admit or, proclaim - rather that you are part of the humanities. So if I say "Hey, I'm a writer", I should be condemned.

However, it is a mortal sin - in the field of academics - to admit or to proclaim that you are part of the academics. So if I say "Hey, I'm a writer therefore I'm automatically a thinker (and a feeler - but let's talk about this some other time)", I should be thrown into the limbo of what they call pit of the pride.

So how am I supposed to proclaim to the world what I truly am without sounding too abrasive, without seeming to proud? How am I supposed to tell the world that because I am a writer and a thinker, I think, act, and am different? How am I supposed to tell the world that because I am both a writer and a thinker, I have certain qualities that the half of the world deigns not to know?

How am I supposed to make known my true components - my characteristics, my insecurities, my traits, my everything?

Frankly, I do not know. I have answers ringing in my head - why? how? when? what? But I'm unsure of them.

One thing's for sure.

There are days when the Writing Syndrome completely cripples my system.

It's not writer's block but simply a neurotic-crap happy mode that writers switch into involuntarily. Yes, involuntarily.

Today and perhaps the whole span of 14 days prior, is one of those days. The Writing Syndrome days. That tick came to me by surprise. At first, I was unable to recognize it but later I realized how much I hated it and loved it at the same time - most of all, how at ease we were with each other.

It should be noted here that the Writing Syndrome makes one uneasy with the world.

Truly, it has made me feel as if I don't fit in. It made me want to switch worlds. Then, I remembered again: I'm suffering from the Writing Syndrome. This Syndrome... it makes me want to spend a whole month alone - just thinking, analyzing, writing and being me. This syndrome... symptoms include neuroticism, anxiety, ecstasy, elation, happiness, hypochondria and most of all: paranoia.

-to be continued-

YKWYA (You Know Who You Are)

My angst is more intense than the dire problems of the country. This is angst overridden. This is angst exposed - without fins, scales, skins or masks. This is MY angst. And I'll bequeath you with nothing, nothing at all except for this angst!

Did God intend his creations NOT to be made of the finest materials - not of marble, not of bronze, not of gold - BUT of the most rotten foibles? I doubt so for I highly respect God.

Do you intend to expunge superficiality - not propriety? I am questioning your choices. After all, you know what they say - it's your choices that show you who you are, far more than your abilities.

Dearest Friends,

I wanted to tell you a thousand things - a thousand things worth-knowing. Positive ones! Negative ones! But did you deign to listen? No. You said you didn't want to. It implied that you didn't want to get hurt. The problem is, I wasn't even trying to get you hurt in the first place. Even if I did, the positive after-effect would be: your strength not mine.

I've been a friend of yours for a long time now! Listening is the only gift I wanted you to present to me! It was the only gift I wanted - the gift I longed for as a kid, the gift I yearned to unwrap during Christmas or any given Sunday. But it was the one gift that you couldn't give me. I've helped you with a lot of things. I've helped you with your inner psyche. And all I wanted was for you to listen. Just please, please listen. If it wouldn't be too materialistic of me to bask under the light of this non-existent gift... But you didn't give me this gift. Perhaps it was too expensive? Perhaps...?

Our inconsistencies have left a huge gap on my outlook towards you. I don't like you anymore. It may sound like the most hypocritical thing but really - I don't like you anymore. I don't want to be with you. Even if I'd want to be with you, it's because of old times' sake. I don't really need old times' sake with someone who was "not there" since the old times, right?

The worst part is, the opposite just happened. Instead of me hurting you, you hurt me. Now I'm trying to drown any forms of life with my music.

When you come back, oh, I don't know. Will I be gone? Will I partake in this mutilated friendship? Will I sink? What will happen?

Nothing happens unless we talk. Unless you give me that gift.

But right now I don't think I want to take it anymore.

Happy

For some unknown reason, I'm actually happy today!

Screw the stuff I gotta do. I don't care. I'm gonna emblazon my happiness into this blog.

Happy happy joy joy....

Maybe it's because of my writer-friends.... Roy and the others :)

Maybe it's because of the blogosphere....






I don't know! I'm happy!

Coeur d'Coeurs (Heart of Hearts)

OMG I'm in love....

Call it puppy love, high school love... I don't care. It's love, nonetheless.

Everytime I think of this geeky (gorgeous) guy (he's a year my senior - someone who belongs to either of the star sections), my day brightens up. You know, I thought the whole "OOh, I saw my crush today, I'm happy!" was immature, stereotypical, cliched and cheesy. But it's actually true. It's like you see the guy you like and then... you just sort of daydream about him. Or admire his feats.

In my case, I adore his physical and mental feats. To be both a geek and a gorgeous guy is something that happens once in a blue moon.

I think I'm in love with him. That's because I rarely think of someone in this kind of intense manner. And knowing myself, well, I really like him.

He's just so perfect.

Now, if only he'd stop liking my big sister...

Random Rant

I miss Camille and Cha.

I used to be able to say anything I wanted to say without feeling guilty/making them feel guilty.

We used to have picnics during Chinese recess - and there was always Chuckie on the menu.

We used to shriek like crazy whenever we talked about girl stuff and Gossip Girl.

Cha was so oblivious - I had loved her for that. (I still do, actually)

Camille hated Chuckie. (She still does)

I miss Bea and Sexy.

I miss screaming with my friends. Urrgh.

I really could tell them ANYTHING I WANTED.

I could do anything I wanted.

I miss them.

I miss them.

I know they miss me too..

I love you two!

The Art of Plasticity

Perhaps if you are from the future and would care to read this, you would scorn me. You would throw me into the limbo of darkness, the limbo of hell, the limbo of an ageless, bottomless pit. That is because what you are about to read may contain the truth. The truth about plasticity - superficiality - the agonizing truth about the sins of mankind. Worse, you - future person - might be one of THEM. Well, how does this affect the future, anyhow?

You know what I say about the future - when past and present are intermingled, you yield the future. And if the past spawned superficial people all the worse, the present produced second-hand generations of the aforementioned species - the superficial and of course, when your present is nearly overflowing with superficiality and plasticity, the tendency is, you'd have a third-hand generation of modern plastics.

The sudden mass production of plastics must have been caused by major cultural, economical and industrial factors. However, if we really look at it, inner plasticity is caused by a personal urge to become something bigger than it already is.

These are the factors:

1. TV Shows - People tend to think that what they see on TV could be imitated within a snap of a finger. People also tend to think that they could pull off what they see on TV. THEY'RE ACTORS, OKAY?
2. Environmental Factors - Think clique, mindset, HOME (when you bond with your yaya...)
3. Self-perception
   

Let's use a "she". Plasticity is more prone to females in my case, anyway.

What is superficiality/plasticity in the first place?

Lemme explain. Superficiality is the art of being superficial. Let's be more elaborate. When you copy/imitate/plagiarize WTH (whatever the hell) it is on those Pinoy "kikay" (so hard for me to type the quoted word) commercials/ads, you're superficial. First off, it's okay TO be like them - BUT not to the extent of changing your whole persona into something completely negative and completely off. It just looks superficial okay? And no, I'm not being judgmental. I'm being...observant. One more thing, if you pose that "kikay" (had to swallow my tongue just to type the damned fugly quoted word) pose in pictures, which is obviously annoying *cue, widens eyes, flashes toothy grin, raises both eyebrows to make eyes elaborate, shifts angles to look unfat*, you're superficial. Or maybe I could be less harsh: that event is superficial. If you meet someone and automatically as if you've seen each other before the cambrian period of human life, you are superficial. If you are trying to be something you aren't, you're superficial.


There are other definitions - MANY definitions. Listing them one by one would take me all night. And even all morning.

What is plasticity? Oh God. I don't need to explain this. Smart people get what this means.

*Plasticity is a form of superficiality.

Oh, and plasticity is also this: the act of saying "hi"or "hello" to someone you have absolutely no amor for. It's okay to say hi and hello to someone you have a love-hate relationship with - but with someone you absolutely HATE? You're plastic - go geta life. If you remain plastic with that person despite her confrontations, you are the absolute goddess of plasticity. If you remain plastic with a certain person just because YOU fear of losing, you are still plastic. If you remain plastic with a certain person just because you "don't want any fights", then you're not only plastic, but you're also stupid. Oh WTF, you disgust me, get away from me!

What causes someone to weart that mask of plasticity? Is it all that make-up? Is it all those nasty concealers that don't really conceal anything to the cunning ones? Partly yes. Is it her clothes? Her trying hard, second-grade clothes? Partly yes. Is it her smile? YES. A BIG FAT YES. Look, if you're gonna be plastic - don't make it obvious, damn you! Unless you're really stupid, you can pull a plastic move - heck, a PLASTIC SMILE. If you're going to smile, smile naturally. Yours is just so fake!

-to be continued-

Comeback

To drive away all the negative chakra in my blog, I present to you someone else's not-so-negative blog. Guess who!


Lindsay Lohan.


It's her official blog. And dare I say this, sure she has grammatical mistakes but at least she WRITES.

I wanna quote her (this made me laugh like hell!): "Oh, and...Hint Hint Pali Pal- Don't pose for anymore tabloid covers, you're not a celebrity, you're running for office to represent our, your, my COUNTRY! And in the words of Pamela Anderson, 'She can suck it'.."

Here's the URL if you wanna read the whole thing: LL


Can't believe I'm still a fan, after all the drama.

Three Posts Cannot Sum It All Up

Screw filial piety.

Fuck whoever designed the Chinese code of ethics. Whoever that irrational person that is. Fuck you Fillial Piety, you do me no good.

Two Posts Cannot Sum It All Up

There's a positive side note amidst all this drama. That is, I finally express three quarters of my emotions thoroughly.

I told you I'm the least complete, least whole person in the universe. Even self-expression comes short at three quarters.

What I'd stifled for 15 years comes rushing at the world now.

Now if only I could get someone to comment in the cbox...

One Post Cannot Sum It All Up

I have a strong aversion towards big men with fat bellies who curse the Filipino curse word a lot, and at the same time release a slew of irrationality and illogical, narrow-minded gibberish in the course of doing so.

They simply remind me of my father.

Void

Hate is such a strong word.


So it's exactly the word I need to express my feelings for my family: I hate them all so much.

My father calls me worthless all the time.

My mother calls me names that I cannot name here.

My brother calls me retarded (in the non-jocular manner) and a lot of hurtful words, vulgar words.

Is this your ideal family? Is this your perfect family? Well, I guess if you thought your family was the bitch of the universe, you better look at mine.

I just wanna grow up, leave them and die.

Abortion

Mother, am I a lie?

Mother, am I one of those everyday things you mouth to father?

Am I a demon in disguise,

Conceived by that one thing you can't hide

A lie?

Mother, am I those catalysts that ignite

Father's wrath during the night?

Mother, why murder me

With those crucial lies?

Mother, is that murder?

Mother that is a sin

Mother that is one of those things

You told me you taught me

Not to commit as a kid

But mother, why lie?

Mother why kill me with your lies?

Why manipulate the family's life?

Mother, why oh why oh why?

Mother, am I adopted?

Mother, why do this?

Mother, this sin

Is as strong

As the ones

You hate

In the Bible and psalms

Mother, don't abort.

Mother, don't lie.

Mother, never ever lie.

Of Stage Moms, Irrational Fathers and Filial Piety Part 2

Here is a very sexist statement I just heard:

"Babae ka lang. Hindi mo kailangan ng mataas na pinag-aralan. Lalu na babae mas mataas ang pinag-aralan mas nakakainis, walang may gugustong lalaki, mas walang kuwenta."

What the fuck is that?

Well, do you wanna know where that STATEMENT came from? My father's mouth. His big fat mouth.

He didn't aim it at me. He aimed it at someone else. Of course, I happen to care and love that "someone else" so I guess he should just.... URRRGHHHH... See, this is the perfect epitome of a fucking broken family. Broken on the inside, complete on the outside. Broken family.

I wish parents would just stop screwing things up FOR ONCE. Can't they all spare us ONE NIGHT? A SILENT NIGHT IS ALL THAT I ASK FOR.

This shows why I'm so messed up on the whole.

What he said was so fucking discriminating.
FUCK!

I won't say anything more... I'll bite my tongue - after all, that's what I've been doing all these years, right? Biting my tongue about my family because of fear that they may know what I think about them? Yes, false pretense in terms of family. False pretense. They've been living a lie!!!! Living with the truth hurts, but living a lie is not living at all.

This time, you be the judge.

It's Just One of Those Days....2

Having no idea on what happened to me when I was writing that previous post, I now succumb to writing what I was supposed to be writing in that previous post.

Today's one of those days again...the idle days. When you really aren't capable of doing anything fruitful. I've no idea what happened today. It seems like all I did was nothing. I can remember what I did 65% of the day: that is, play Pokemon Diamond - chasing Mesprit was harder than I thought (which is the most absurd thing you'd hear from a girl like me). I wasted 15% of the day listening to my iPod in the most absolute listless manner. It seems like I just sat and waited for the battery to commit suicide. The 20%? I used this for my daily ablutions. DON'T ASK.

Now, I'm not even doing anything. I just wanna write and type and write and type and write and think and think and think and read and speak in front of people and type and write and think and think et cetera et cetera et cetera.

I'm terminated.

I'm supposed to be doing a lot of OTHER things right now, like:

1. Editing and Writing for The Quest. - I'm obviously going to be cramming SOON
2. Studying Poods (aka Tsong Wen)
3. Mo Pit - urrrgh. worthless.
4. Studying AP - I'm Mrs. Tana's new "social studies girl"
5. Training Torterra up to Lvl. 70 - absurd
   
6. Cleaning my room
7. Reading Catcher
8. I forgot.

But instead. I'm whiling away.

I hate Mondays. It's so unfair. All my energy was extracted by these things: 1. high heels, 2. Saturday's event, 3. the last week's drama-depression sitch.


Now I'm sleepy.


g'bye

It's Just One of Those Days...

I only want to do the things I want to do. I don't wanna do things I need to do. That's exactly why my life is so complicated. If I could just apply my "accept. change. move on." mantra, everything will be fine within the snap of a finger.

Thinking is not the hardest part. It's the application. Like, for example: The grade-obsessed of the century. I mentioned them before - sure, they're really smart - capable of analyzing, reasoning, answering exam questions et cetera. But when it comes to their emotional problems, they cannot seem to conjure up a thought - how do I solve the prob? what am I supposed to do? how am I supposed to correlate Density=Mass Over Volume to my family's tattered fate? how am I supposed to apply Pythagoras to my deep-down insecurities?

That's the thing, you can't. You can't just do that. It's not that easy.

Thinking, my pals, is the easiest part.

It's the application that's the worse.

That's why EQ is not that easy to obtain - they don't test it in exam week.

Things Can't Get Any Better Than This

"Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning."

I think that quotation comes from the bible (but I heard it in a Mariah Carey song LOL).

Sept. 6, '08 - the speaking contests of the Eng Dept. Well, if you read that other post entitled "Why Do These Things Keep Happening To Me?", you'd probably guess that I was nervous or as usual, neurotic. But I don't know. I just seemed "confident" earlier today. I don't know if I did good in extempo/oratorical (most likely, I sucked) but .... the WEIRD part is, I don't really care. That doesn't sound much like me. It's a total miracle. But I guess things change when we tie or hair (LOL).

I really didn't care. Sure, I was neurotic and panicky as hell after I came down from the stage - but that's sort of a natural thing already. The "bodily phenomenon" I was referring to in that post "Why Do These Things Keep Happening To Me" didn't happen again. And I'm so glad for that.

This makes me so happy.


As of now, everything is fine.

Social life.

Personal life.

Academic life.

Career life (English).

Emotional life (if there is such).

Societal life (towards society).



*I just realized I spelled SPACES. Check out the initials.


Things can't get any better than this.

No more depression for me...

Goodbye, agony.... (Goodbye Kevin's stomach ache)


I can't believe I'm saying this...but I'm.... HAPPY :)

Things Can't Get Any Worse Than This

So I flunked an Accounting Test. Big deal?

Well, if the teacher broadcast-ed it to the world? What am I to do?

Shit. That was so fucking embarrassing.


Now, judgment shall be passed around my entire globe.

To those who know the damned score, comment on this post. I need a divine intervention.




Bakit kasi kailangan pang iannounce eh. Puwede bang itago na lang yung private lives natin sa isang maliit na bubble? Kahit nga AP grade ko - highest sa buong batch - hindi ko kinakalat sa friends ko eh. Kahit English grade ko (same thing), hindi ko sinasabi sa classmates ko eh. Yun pa kayang bagsak.

Judgment. I am 100% sure that judgment will be passed.

I surrender.


Shitty life.

Grrrrrr

My mother is a drama queen.






I just wanna........





If it wouldn't be a sin to verbalize words that........







She lies.


She cheats.


She swears.


She manipulates.


She exaggerates.


She social climbs.




And I'm being frank.





Her life is a lie.