Of Decisions, Choices... and Hurt Part 2

When it comes right down to it, I guess there's no such thing as being the jack of all trades. It simply is farfetched. I can't be a writer and at the same time a brainy geek. I think this is God's way of telling me that I can't be two things at the same time.




For the record, peeps, I'm flipping The Coin.

Of Decisions, Choices... and Hurt

I have to make a decision tonight.

On January 31, 2009, the Battle of the Brains and the DLSU Eco-Art Competition will take place at the same time (but not at the same place). The thing is, I don't know which to choose.

I know, I know, it may seem to be easy, simple...whatever. But for me, it's different.

Case 1: Battle of the Brains

The truth is, I wanna win the Battle of the Brains because, of course, of the title. Duh. And I want to prove people wrong. They (as in my "supportive" "classmates" and "friends") kept saying: "Si Aldric naman mananalo diyan eh! Obvious naman eh!", "Magaling yan si Aldric, kayang-kaya niya yan!"

And I'm so hurt.

Kasi... mas mataas score ko sa Philippine History, Asian History, World History, General Info and Current Events kaysa sa kanya...Math lang naman kasi eh (which he downright perfected). And it's so fucking unfair. People automatically ajudge that the valedictorian would win any contest he'd join. (But, as luck would have it, no valedictorians have ever won the BoB before.)

Thank GOODNESS for Ellyn, Cha, and Mollie! The THREE people who were uber-supportive of my fetish for history... ang Cha was so rooting for me! She said I was really gonna win. Cha, I love you. I really do. You deserve a shelf of Chick-Lit books, Cha. I can't explain how supportive she was! I MEAN IT. Like, everyday, there're words of support. Really, I can't explain. And Ellyn! She may not have Cha's ways of reminding me that I could really ace it, but you can tell how SINCERE she is. Sincerity, amidst a sea of drama, is heaven.

Why do I want to win? Because I want to redeem my title. I've won Social Science/Gen Info competitions before (outside the school - back when I was still in Sakya) and I want to prove that YES, I'm GREAT. I'm GOOD. I'm BETTER. Call me insecure, but it's just my true feelings. Nakakainis kasi, left and right, iisa lang ang naririnig kong statement. It's like you KNOW you're better. But you can't prove it.

Of course, since, as you can see, I'm TOO confident about this, it would be VERY HARD for me to accept defeat.

You know why else I wanna win? Because of the rewards at stake. If I win, since I'm a FIVE-er, I'm gonna have the chance to join interschool competitions like the REAL Battle of the Brains, quiz bees, other stuff.

Case 2: DLSU Writing Competition

You know, I was so keen on joining the BoB because I thought I really was going to win... but because of the lack of support my "FRIENDS" give me, it kinda dragged me down....Parang, you're down because they're down for you.. Sabi pa nga nung isa: "Mag-DLSU ka na lang. Magaling si aldric eh so maliit chance na manalo." it's like FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK. Why does everybody automatically ASSUME that he's going to win? Let me get this straight, I've NOTHING against him. He's my friend. And if he reads this, I hope he understands that I'm pissed at other people's judgment, not at him.


The whole dragging down thing kinda made me want to choose DLSU. Top that off with Julie Diane's and Mr. Delos Reyes' EFFECTIVE, EFFORTLESS CONVINCING (and nagging), I kind of want to join the DLSU now. And I know THE TOPIC VERY WELL. The theme's gonna be all about MY OP-ED (which I'd so carefully written because I wanted to win a Yuyitung). So there. Besides, if I lose the Battle, it's gonna be really hard for me.

THIS SUCKS.


Guys, PLEASE DO COMMENT ON THIS DECISION-MAKING THING before I head to rehab.



Hey, maybe I should just ditch both contests?

Revenge is Sweeter (Than You Ever Were)

Mark their words: Nemo me impune lacessit "No one harms me with impunity." Yes, that's The Cask of Amontillado to you.

Never have I ever found myself thinking about vengeance...vendetta... revenge...I'd always thought that anyone's (given that he did wrong) conscience would avenge the victim.

But sometimes, revenge gets to you in the weirdest way possible.

Are there two kinds of revenge: good and bad revenge?

Is doing the right thing revenge?

Is it revenge when it's justifiable (logically and rationally speaking)?

Is it still revenge when you're doing "it" to protect someone, say, future successors?

I don't know.

But, seriously, who knows?

These things are beyond dictionary's definition. Moreover, these things are beyond juvenile experiences.

But, readers, if you hear something in the near future that relates to ME, the thought of revenge, the thought of righteousness and morality (like a scandal), refer back to this little post.

The scandal's gonna explode like a tiny bomb. Let's just wait and see.






Only time will tell.

The Shadow of the Wind

Despite the mounting To-Do lists on my desk here at home, I procrastinate.

Procrastination, thy name is me!

Part of the whole procrastination process was reading "The Shadow of the Wind" by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. Yes, just judging from his name, he's Spanish. I've been trying to avoid Spanish authors since forever for this purpose: Fear. You ask: "Fear of what? Fear FOR what?"

Fear that I might get disappointed.

... of the Spanish culture, the Spanish people, and Spain. I expect a lot from European countries, after all. And if you know my middle name, you'd know that I really AM Spanish... that part (a quarter, actually) of my identity is the lingering European blood.

My maternal grandfather, the wisest person I've ever met/seen/heard about, was actually what we've studied in Philippine history books. He was brought up to society by Americans and he learned a lot of languages thanks to what remained to be the Thomasites. He even had pictures of those Americans with him!

My maternal grandfather's grandfather was once a Gov-General. Yes, yes, that kind.

So now. Back to the present. When I was in elem, in my previous school, I thought my family was the weirdest family in the universe. My mother talked differently. My mother acted differently. And obviously, my mother thought differently. I was a kid then. I guess my resolute thought for this was because my family, unlike my classmates' families, is intelligent. Heck, I was top in my class. I took this for granted. I accepted that we were different. But I didn't want to be different. I wanted to BE smart and at the same time BE normal. (Now, aged 15, I realize that being smart and being normal are two points that'd never be on the same plain.)

When I transferred to CKSC (where I met y'all: Kevs, Daniel, Fleur, etc etc), I got to know a few people. Elaine. Mollie. Cha. And when I say "I got to know", I really mean: I dived into their family lives. When I resurfaced, I realized: Hey, I'm in a new school, I'm surrounded by smart people and yet I am STILL different. What the heck?

I learned that their families never fought and reprimanded kids the way my family did. I learned that they didn't speak certain words. I learned that their parents didn't come from families that were as broken as the families my parents came from.

Come my junior year, still the same thing. As of now, I've had made bonds with Eunice, Paul, Jake, Kenny, Beni, Aldric, Elaine, Mollie, Cha, Fleur, Arianne, Nuevo, Camille, Jasmine, Aibee, Roy, Bea... the list goes on, seriously... and so far, none of their families are as different as mine. It's like my family's the weirdest or something!

Then... I read the book by the Spanish author (btw, it's translated to English by Lucia Graves, daughter of poet Robert Graves). It was set in post-war Barcelona.

(I'm not gonna expound on the plot. In fact, I'm not gonna mention the plot!)

I got hooked.

The details...the wordings...the events...the dialogue... they reflected my family.

It was so different from the American novels I had read before... the American novels whose characters' lives I thought were "normal". Yes, I am in blood, Spanish. No Filipino novel, no American novel could ever reflect that!

I AM SPANISH! It's a part of me I've never come to suffice with my everyday doings! It's a part of me that I've never uncovered.

No wonder I'm so inclined to Spanish songs (see profile).

No wonder I'm so inclined to learning Spanish.

No wonder I speak the word "tonta" while the rest of the world would say "tanga!"

No wonder I'd hear my mother talk FRANKLY about things.

I guess, if you really know me and my family troubles which I've mentioned in previous posts, you'd realize that my dysfunctional-family-conflict lies in a cultural barrier. My father is Chinese-Filipino. My mother is Spanish-Filipino. Chinese peeps are conservative. Spanish peeps are more liberal. Chinese peeps are discreet. Spanish peeps are open. Chinese peeps censore a few things. Spanish peeps lay them out in the wild.

And so the inner conflicts of Catherine Tan will forever rage...

It's a bittersweet thing.

I'm not proud to be a Filipino. I'm not proud to be a Chinese. I'm not proud of being Spanish. I'm proud of being all three, all at the same time.

"The Shadow of the Wind" didn't disappoint. It did the opposite. It opened my eyes.

I Love My Job

Crunch time once and again in the press room! Papers everywhere - files everywhere. Copy room's occupied. Editors busy. Editor-in-chief having coffee, preparing to pull an all-nighter.

In my dreams!

Gah. I wish I could live that life. If I could be a pro editor-in-chief of a magazine, I'd be the happiest girl in the universe. It's my dream. I wouldn't care if I'd pull a thousand all-nighters. I just wanna live the life.

But who's to say that my current life isn't like that? *brag mode. lol* That I, as the editor-in-chief of one of the most competent publications in Chinatown, doesn't gulp coffee in preparing to pull all-nighters?

Hey, I'm feeding my head balloon tanks of my own ego here. LOL. Forgive me for that.

Well, anyway, even though the stress is overwhelming like crazy, I can cope. Because I am motivated. Because I love what I do. Because I am driven only by those to things: motivation and passion. I'm drawn to the job so much - its positivities and negativities. Socialization. Friends. Drama. Photoshoots. Pictorials. Spreads. Fashion. Seminars. Politics. Philosophy. Psychology. Writing. Interviews. Life. Experiences. Photos. Stress. Editing. Field Trips. Documents. Layouting. Dummy prints. Mastheads. Articles.


And everything else.

"Articles? They will never stop coming," said Mr. Delos Reyes - my Guild adviser and Journalism Guru. When he said that, I realized it. He was right. He was so right. Those things will never stop coming!


I'll be seeing myself soon...in five years or so... in a magazine. A hotshot magazine.

I Heart Sarah Palin

I'm not supposed to be doing this - I'm supposed to be studying.. but NO... I just skirmish around Lindsay Lohan's MySpace page (she comments on Sarah Palin)... and then scroll down... and then POOF! I see haters all around bashing her, saying that she has no RIGHT to judge Sarah Palin.

Before I dismantle my inner nuclear bomb, I need to now organize my thoughts.

Well, first off, Sarah Palin is a damn politician. People, in nature, have the RIGHT to comment on their potential-future-leader.

Second, those people who commented on her blog, I know for a fact, DISLIKE Sarah Palin (seriously, who doesn't? LOL I'm kidding!) but bash Lindsay just for the kinks of it.

The worst comment a hater said was that Lindsay was judging Sarah Palin and that Linds MUST grow up now.

Listen, hater: Polish your grammar first before you go on ranting, okay?

Back to that topic. JUDGMENT.

THAT'S THE PROBLEM, PEEPS! PEOPLE do not know the fine lines among OPINION, JUDGMENT AND VERBAL ATTACK! I bet these people don't even know that there is such a thing as a "fine line".

These people are the scourges of moral degeneraion.

Moral degeneration, people. Moral degeneration.

It's not that I'm biased because I basically LOVE Lindsay Lohan. I'm being morally intact here. And rational.

Freedom of Speech. Harassment.

Verbal Attack. Judgement. Opinion.

This is an example of a verbal attack: They don't teach those things in school, my fair dimwits (*refers to the haters*). They don't teach those in school... is that why you don't know 'em?

(It's a verbal attack since I used the word "dimwit")

Well, damn with the torpedoes, full speed ahead.

Freedom of Speech. Harassment.

Vebal Attack. Judgement. Opinion.

Do you know how to differentiate them?

Hmpf.

I'll differentiate them for you when I'm not busy building my morals and intellect.

I'll differentiate them and I bet you a million bucks...

So now what.. You're gonna say that I'm judging all of you? Now you're gonna be saying that I'm verbally attacking you?

What close-minded angles!

The ABC's of Life

And now I shall venture into teaching.

But before that, I shall give you a list of vocabulary words... make sure you understand them thoroughly, know them by heart, and apply them appropriately.

Voc. List # 1

1. responsibility - when I say something, I make it a point that I live up to it.

Example Sentence: Her damned friends failed to fulfill their responsibility to show up for a group meeting that should have had taken place last Wednesday.

2. friend - someone I can talk to anywhere, anyhow, anytime.

Example Sentence: She has very few friends because many of her old friends weren't friends at all.

Another Example Sentence: She doesn't want a "best friend", a "close friend" or a "best friend forever" - she just wants someone she can call a friend sans the quotation marks.

3. emo - someone who hates the world and is proud during that process

Example Sentence: All of her friends are emo.

4. friendless - someone whose friends resolved to abandonment

Example Sentence: She used to feel loved by her "close friends", but now feels friendless.

5. immaturity - "I am stupid and I don't know anything about the real world"

Example Sentence: Her friends succumb to immaturity and therefore she became friendless.

6. friendship - the most overrated abstract thing in the universe

Example Sentence: Her life is ruined by friendship.

7. frankness - what the world needs to be perfect; to accept the truth and to be the truth

Example Sentence: Her friends rejected any form of frankness.

8. listen - the ability to lend one's ears wholeheartedly to someone who is in the process of self-expression

Example Sentence: One thing her friends failed to do is to listen.

9. stupidity - the inability to think like a morally and emotionally intellectual human being.

Example Sentence: Her friends may be academically inclined, but if there's one thing they're really, really good at, it's stupidity.

10. smart - someone who knows life outside the Chemistry/Biology/Physics/Geometry/Trigonometry/ Chinese History/Chinese Literature books

Example Sentence: She has only one smart friend.

11. superficiality - "Look at me, I'm hot, I'm sexy, I'm fashionable, I'm perfect. I'm just like one of those girls you see on 'Girls Gone Wild'"; "Look at me, I watch TV shows all day and that's the only thing I care about - minus, of course, my perfect looks."; "I'm a party girl, in a party world."

Example Sentence: If there's one thing she doesn't want her friends to go into, it's superficiality (but sadly, it's too late).

12. human being - a creature that, in general, sees, thinks and feels the real side of things.

Example Sentence: Are her friends human beings?

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-

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.

Do I Really Want This?

Exams week. The week of my happiness; no sarcasm, mind you. I've been pretty happy lately - I've been happily playing Pokemon from VBA (thanks to Carl) and thoroughly NOT studying. Nonetheless, I've learned quite a lot.

And now, students, we tackle the difference between LEARNING and STUDYING.

You don't need to freaking memorize the Math book, Chem book, Bio book, Literature book, whatever metallurgical book to learn something. You can learn even by just LOOKING at its cover. Literally. This post - I'd like to recite out loud. I'd like to speak it in front of a hundred people - a hundred grade-obsessed people - parents and children and old people alike. Teachers, even. I know that many of G-O people are pressured. I do know that that pressure is so dominant. Yes, I know that and I have the right to say it out loud because heck, I was a valedictorian. And there's this certain quality that valedictorians HAVE that other smart, intellectual non-valedictorian people don't. Ain't bragging. Simply stating to make a CLEAR point to the G-O people who happen to be non-v.

Pressure is dominant, overwhelming and even... intimidating. But you are not SUPPOSED to let it control your life! You're not supposed to, I reiterate (this is from one of my previous posts), sit on your arse and watch the world revolve on its axis. You keep saying that you're pressured by your stage moms and stage dads (I have a stage mom. A total stage mom.) - so is half of the world!

You are also not supposed to belittle people who are not as persistent as you are. I know what you all would probably say. "I don't have pride. I'm still here, down, earth." Whatever. Tell you what, you live with pride! There is no single creature in this world who has NO pride. It's just a matter of how HIGH it is, my friends. And when you're an overachieving G-O. You live with pride. Automatically. Am I right? Quick. Look at yourselves. Then answer: Am I right?

Worst, these belittled people, sometimes, are smarter than those ABOVE. These belittled people don't care about Significant Figures. They don't care about crap like that. They care about the world. Personally, yes, I'm one of those belittled people. I used to be an overachiever (but not a G-O) and yet I still feel the judgment. Think about it.

So what if I don't get a perfect score in the Chem test today huh? What happens? Will the world die? No, it won't.

Nobody is perfect. No KIND of intellect is perfect. Everybody has a different kind of brain.

Ask yourselves before you falter. "Do I really want this?" Do you really want to be an overachieving G-O? I'll give you a clearer citation. Being an overachiever G-O is like being at the peak of the mountain. Mt. Everest, for example. Your smartness knows that Mt. Everest has ice at its peak, right? You're at the peak of the mountain. You built your house there - at the peak. Your house topples over but doesn't fall because you hold on to it. Your smartness realizes that: "Shit. I built my house at the tip of the mountain! What do I do? It will fall anytime soon now!" Better yet, you think: "What was I THINKING???"

That's my point. You weren't thinking at all. Or worse, you never had a brain to start with. You were aiming for fame, prestige, recognition... which is okay to aim at as long as you know yourself and you know the mountain itself. Now, the people at the middle part of the mountain are happy and satisified with their lives. Even though you stepped on them during your race to the top, they forgave you. Why? Because they weren't aiming for the peak! They were aiming for clean living. They were aiming for what was right. They're the SMART ONES!

Again, ask yourself. "Do I really want this?"

If I asked my freshman self that question, I'd say: "Yes! Yes! YES! I WANT IT. I want to be know all over the school as the V! I want fame, prestige, recognition!"

If I asked my sophomore self that question, I'd say: "I don't really know."

Now, I ask myself. The answer is a big fat NO. Why? You G-O people ask. Because the price to pay is not worth it. It's like buying Hitler's white Mustang for $4000 when I could buy, say, Nick Joaquin's dented Mustang for $1000. Shall I speak of it more? Do I want to automatically have pride as high as Mt. Everest? No. Do I want to step on to other people? No. Do I want my house to fall? No. What happens if I say yes to all those questions? What's the effect, the aftermath? What do I get? Fame? School fame that will vanish itself after you graduate school? No. I don't want that. Look at Oprah. Influential, right? Was she a G-O back in her high school? No. Look at Tyra Banks! She didn't even finish college! She's now a female-empowerment advocate now. How about me? The belittled one? My achievements? Well, I bet you that white Mustang. I struck a tone in your brains, didn't I? I'm not academically the smartest creature. But I have a brain. A brain that thinks differently. And yes, I call myself smart. Besides, you won't be able to read up to THIS long if what I said isn't making any sense.

"Do I really want this?"

No.

Where O Where is the Psychologist?

I need a psychologist.

Heck, I AM ONE.

But the creative writer in me and the thinking writer in me collide. One art - two divisions. I don't even know what's stronger! Nonetheless, I do believe (in one way or the other) that both are one. They do, after all, belong to the same art (am reiterating). So basically I can't be a psychologist to me per se if I don't even know what my main strength is.

BUT I AM TOO DEPRESSED!

All this talk about death depresses me. I'm not ready to die yet.

I haven't finished my novel yet!

And I haven't been able to transmute this hideously beautiful mess of a world into a total beautifully beautiful Utopia!

Oh, and Miss Emo keeps on multiplying. Sigh. Pathetic world.

I need a psychologist - one who thinks and speaks and writes EXACTLY like me.

Sadly there is none - at least, as of now.

I Have Bigger Problems to Worry About...

...like my exams for tomorrow. And my literally bleeding ear. And the fact that I, well, ......


(oh, ellipsis)


But instead, I worry about this:

....


To better explain, expound, elaborate, I'll write a few fictional paragraphs. And yes, you can consider this a short story. But no, the events are not what you call factual. Ask the feeling for the gist, why don't ya.

Oh btw, the main character is not ME. The main character might even be a SHE or a HE-SHE.


She sits in the chair, hating the world for what it couldn't do for her. That is, make her feel loved. Useful. Unlike a dust bunny under an eon-old bed. She read a passage - the one from life. The one that no one frequently reads. The one that she will only choose to love. And while reading this passage, she pondered and thought.

She's reclusive, truth be told. And sometimes the recluse makes her so isolated from time and its pace. Yes, her pace is slower than time. Yes, her pace is not moving at all. Just steady. Just slowly trying, hoping to make the world turn back its axis. And undo her past mistakes. Un-hate the people that she hates and has hated. But she's smart enough to know that it will never happen.

This makes her angry, this makes her hate the world more. But out of all the darkness, the devils and the diabolical, she chooses to hate another girl. This girl is a girl who, normally, possesses higher sense. Knowledge. But is, like everyone else, flawed. So why did she hate her so much? Because this girl's ability to reason - rationality and superiority - intimidates her? Perhaps. Nonetheless, we may never know. Or maybe because she is insecure of the attention that this girl stirs? She is, after all, void of understanding herself. She believes this girl desires power. Grandeur - she even glanced a meaningful glance at her friend when the Girl She Hates admitted honestly that she desired power. But who does not?

Miss Emo believes she does not.

That was two days ago. Here's RIGHT now:

Is Miss Emo honest enough to admit that she is blind? That she is irrational? That she should not, by any means, try to mingle, trample, get into other people's lives because she per se cannot control her own? Is it obvious to Miss Emo that she hates the world mainly because she hates who she is? That she wants to change it badly but she subconsciously refuses to want change - because she is reclusive, abandoned, psychologically imbalanced and broken? Does she want war with the Girl She Hates? Does she even KNOW the Girl She Hates?

So many questions, so little of a brain to answer them.


Miss Emo believes that the Girl She Hates should die tonight. In fact, she wants to be the one to be the bringer of the death. She hates the Girl She Hates. Ever since last year. Ever since two years ago. Why? Because the Girl She Hates has a personality that is different from hers. A personality that is rarely found in the hallways of the school. The Girl She Hates is different. The Girl She Hates is unique. So is Miss Emo. Is that why they clash? Miss Emo's DISABILITY to comprehend that not all things can go her way and the Girl's eccentric, loud nature? Truly, does Miss Emo have the right to ignite a war because she hates a person's attitude, characteristics, personality? No. But she does have the right to hate the Girl She Hates.

Does Miss Emo have the right to brag and bitch?

No.


Does Miss Emo have the right to make it look like the Girl She Hates is the bearer of the torch to blame out of all this? No. But whatever this rift is, 50% of the problem lies in Miss Emo. And the rest lies in the Girl She Hates.

But if you ask me, the simple - biased - narrator, I say, blame 99% on Miss Emo. She started it all in the first place, right? She couldn't bear the burden no more. She couldn't pour all her hatred into the world. She had to pour it into the girl.


She still sits on her chair, teeth clenched, fists tightened into a ball of rushing blood, eyes forcefully vanished, heart seething. She hates the Girl She Hates. She hates her, she wants to kill her. She can't take it anymore.

She raises her clenched fists, ready to aim.

Aim where? At who?

Better watch out, Miss Emo. She has forgotten who the Girl She Hates is. And how this Girl plays her game. Don't raise fists, Miss Emo.

The Girl already pulled the silver trigger.

Where does the bullet aim?

At who?

Epiphany

Now I know. Life is all about waiting. It's all about waiting for this...and that. I've been subconsciously waiting for an epiphany. Something that might signal, I don't know, a beacon of light, I guess. And now I finally have it here with me. Right by my side. And tell you what, after writing this post, I will surrender....to the light. I will step into the light.

This light helped me realize who I truly must trust. Who I truly need to be. WHAT I truly need to be. . . and what I NEED to do. If I could just elaborate here the vivid details... If I could just spill out everything in this blog without hurting a creature. A human being. I'd do it now. If only I had such a low EQ score. But no, I have a high comprehension on social drawbacks and social situations. But if, for once, I could just pour my heart out into something or somewhere without jeopardizing myself and other people.... If, for once, I pretend to be ignorant of peoples' feelings...

I can't do it of course. That's basically what makes me Catherine. Catherine Tan.

Yet, it must be noted here that beneath all this soot, I love myself. I love myself so much. Not like Narcissus. But I love myself enough. Enough to be able to...do this. Whatever this is. (Sheesh, too much ellipsis).

You know what else the light tells me? That I've grown 10 times stronger than my freshman self. Than my old, old self.

Thanks to my friends from my Chinese class and my friends from Writers' Guild. Heck, the whole Guild itself. I owe a life to them. And to YPZhuang, PLYao, EMTan, JMKho from...somewhere out there.

Now, time to step into that light....

I Played Baseball Today

Strike One.

Strike Two.

Strike Three.

YOU'RE OUT!

To be frank and completely honest, with all my heart, soul and paw, there's no such thing as "strike three, you're out" in my summer life JUST YET. But who knows? I'm already halfway there. That's one thing I'm sure of. But one thing I'm not sure of is what the referee is thinking.

True. Like what Lifehouse said (please ignore my constant allusions to Lifehouse, I'm obsessed with Jason Wade): "Silence is golden, but I think it's gonna kill me now."

His silence (or maybe the referee's a "her") is really killing me now.

She's so unreadable. But at the same time maybe I'm just taking the ball with a grain of salt. You wanna know what I think? I think there's been too much salt in my life lately. Apparently, there are only two options: either swallow the salt or throw it away. Barf it away. You can't really do anything halfway, can you? At least, I can't. That wouldn't be Catherine at all, you guys.

Maybe I should just sharpen my senses?

After all, it's just a stupid baseball game.

BOOM!

She's coming back again. She's HERE again. She's ruling over me again. She promised me to stay HERE for only ONE night. And I don't think I can handle her.

SHE? HER? I'm guessing you have no clue at all. Well, it has to be LARGE and HUGE because I'm writing like TWO posts for the night. She HAPPENS to be the doppelganger I mentioned in my other blog post "Fictional Autobiography of a Teenage B". And it's not my fault she's back. QUICK! Lemme get this down before she attacks. OH WAIT. She has already possessed me. And whatever you will be reading for the rest of this evening (after this paragraph) is HER writing. HER post. HER wrath.

Enjoy.

I was wrong. Boy I was wrong.

My target way back was easy. She was weak and vulnerable and easy to pulverize with my perfect shiny, metallic angel-spawned, pistol-lookalike crossbow. I aimed it at her. She died.

But not quite...

I won, really. I did. I killed her. But then I didn't know she had a doppelganger too. And her doppelganger was like MY doppelganger. It was bad and it was good. It was in many ways wrong and in many ways right. So I let go of her.

Hell I still ain't gonna care.

My crossbow MUST explode soon for it has reached its caged, bounded limits. It's time to wreak havoc. It's time to cause chaos. It's time to make war.

TO HELL WITH YOU!

And no, I have not found a target. Or let's just say everyone's my target. Shoot me. Before I shoot you first.

Why don't you kill me now? So we both end our misery?

Shut up before I stitch your lips using the nails of a dead man as the needle and the hair of a dead corpse as the fabric. And then stitch it up some more with the eternal flame of life. SHUT UP before I get my crossbow and stick it onto your mouth and morbidly engrave it there forever like a name engraved on a tombstone. Or whatever the heck you call that. I don't care. And you're not supposed to, either. Just shut up. I don't need to hear your words. Matter of fact, I'd be glad - ecstatic even if you ask me to bazooka them back to where they came from: from Hell (remember?). Then I'd stuff you back there to where you belong. Where? Hell.

One day, one day I'll lure you into my traps.


-- END --

Catherine's note: I read this all over again and I realized HOW EVIL my doppelganger was (and is). And shoot, I can't believe she said all those stuff. Catherine "Cath"(I), would never say those stuff. In fact, I'm actually scared for my alter ego. Hope she's not scared for me.

Of Time, Chances and Enemies...

So many questions, so little time…

But I’d like to stress out here: Bipolar emotions – or at least, emotions to the extremes like wrath, sadness and happiness are all so short-lived. I have particularly tried to sift that philosophy into my head for the past days but every time I try to, something in me tells me that that is true, only with a few “loopholes”. The prolonged “happiness” you feel isn’t “happiness”, it’s actually joy. It’s like comparing “weather” to “climate”. And when you feel that prolonged anger/wrath, it’s not entirely “wrath” because what you feel is resentment – unless otherwise you feel repose. And sadness isn’t sadness; you feel dissatisfaction and discontentment.

That is, based on my many personal experiences regarding those matters.

It actually took me weeks to figure that out, you know. How pathetic…

…and now I’m losing time. It makes me wonder if I still have the chance to apply what I have learned from the past year 2007 because it seems like even though 2008 has just started, I am losing time. I guess you know what I mean – I’m losing time to improve because the school year is ending in two months and I wouldn’t know what to do if the time comes and I get cut – because I will get cut. It wouldn’t be a matter of pride or fame – no honors and all that. They mean NOTHING to me when compared to the self-esteem I have established just by being with those people, and of course – the best part is the love.

But that’s not the topic I wanna stress out.

I start to wonder if there’s such a thing as “too late”. And yes, there is – but only if you can’t stop it. There it was. I made the mistake of making things reach to a level one too late. Just too late, you know…

And now, I’m not even sure…because “now” is the only time I’ve tried.

My chances are withering away with time. My chances LEFT me ages ago. Now, I’m in the fray.

Time has always been my greatest enemy you know.

But lately, I proved that the only way you can defeat an enemy is to make it your friend…

…the problem is, would time befriend me?

Delirium and Dementia

I’m back!

The semi-happy Cat is back after a few minutes of meditation. Back and Better than ever! At least that’s what my mind thinks.

At last, I am out of insecurities (this happened, I guess, because of too much RPG playing – who would have thought?), I am out of negativities and I’m full of … positivity. It just happened over the vacation. I NEEDED a break – to get more sleep (that’s the most important part of it all!), to enjoy the entertainment life and get out of the little, cracked up world I used to live in. Well, here I am now! I needed a break, above all, to think. Or reflect. Reflect is a better term. And I realized how much of a nutcase I’ve been all these months being so paranoid of the world.

Now I care but in a positive way.

That would be a great thing to start my new year (my official new year starts on January 28, 2008 as it is my birthday where slight unluckiness befalls and rains – literally – on me).

(Random: I’m craving for Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Moving on, here is my clichéd New Year’s Resolution list. This isn’t arranged according to importance. It’s random – just like me. And this is born out of the spur of the moment so don’t expect straight-thinking. I mean it.

1. Practice self-control.
2. Immerse self in studying as long as it does not affect sleep ; )
3. Try not to thrive in other people’s business. Especially ones who live in front of the computer.
4. Do not have devilish, bratty tantrums.
5. Do not write about outbursts – or let alone think about it. It makes the head ache.
6. Make more lists.
7. Overthink more.
8. Read less predictable Chick-Lit.
9. Lessen internet time as it corrupts the mind inside and out. It also makes one stupider as it makes you misspell and mistype every word you’re certain that you memorized by heart.
10. Expect less of myself.
11. Think positive
12. Not flunk my Chinese tests
13. Watch more ANTM
14. Not flunk my Math test (oh, please, oh please, I need 2 more points to at least secure my place in 3-5 hopefully. God. I don’t wanna leave them!!! I won’t last that long outside my safe haven of burrows. Let the cut-off be 85 – PLEASE. Please. Please. Please. Please. Just at least let me know or else it’s bye bye time)
15. Eat less fast food takeouts
16. Watch more TV
17. Communicate with God
18. Keep desk clean and organized
19. Do not live at the spur of the moment.
20. Stop overwhelming, over-calculating, over-limiting and over-second guessing myself. It’s bad for the health.
21. Think of better days
22. Concentrate on reality
23. Live
As you can see, these don’t sound like REAL resolutions. But I doubt that there’s any REAL resolution in the world. It’s more like a day’s itinerary plan or a to-do list. That’s what resolutions are anyway – a day’s itinerary that must go along through the rest of the year. Lots of changes have been made this year (shall I say last year?) – some for the good, some for the bad, some for the hopeless.

I bet I’ll improve my new year’s resolution someday.

For now? I’m sticking to living for life.

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.

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. : )