Requiem

I joined the DLSU...and I LOST! But it's okay, I'd anticipated the loss days prior, anyway. And I'm glad I didn't join the Battle of the Brains too - it just proved that even what I wanted the most couldn't hinder me from self-satisfaction.

So I guess, I'm good. I've really matured.... OH and KEVS! Congratulations for winning the Battle of the Brains! I think you were the most humble person in the bunch... humility deserves awards and recognition. Not to mention, you really ARE good at your craft. (Is there prize money?)

Btw, this is my 151st post. And I guess, it'll be one of my last. A certain kind of maturity has obliged me to make a new blog. This time, though, I'm not deleting this. In fact, this'll always be here - always, always, always. I want to keep my past in tune with my present.

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.

Sinequanone

I added another link to the "Simply Irresistible" Add-On on my sidebar.

Retail therapy will forever be my therapy.


Anyway, here's the new fashion brand I'm obsessing about. It's kind of like Zara, but I think they only differ when it comes to the fabric. Zara's fabric comes from France and Spain. Sinequanone's? I don't know yet. Truth is, I haven't bought anything from this store (yet)...and maybe I will on my birthday (that's January 28, people!)


Where was I? Oh, yeah, I haven't bought anything from this store yet BUT it's all over magazines and haute couture websites so I'm UP for it.


In case you're wondering, sinequanone is actually a Latin word (well, they modified it a bit.) Sine Qua Non is the real deal. It means "(a condition) without which it could not be".

I've no idea how THAT could relate to fashion!


Disclaimer: To my male readers, fret not! I will not continue to barrage your eyes with female power-infused blog posts (not soon, anyway).


HAVE A GREAT DAY!

Hello, Blog

Aside from the fact that I'm being eaten by these stupid bugs, everything's going pretty fine.

So right now...

It's basically 1 in the morning. (Don't believe what the "posted on" thingy at the bottom of this post says).

Mouth sore.

Throat hurts.

Bug-bitten.

Not panic-stricken anymore! I'm on to my 1045 words (word count's 1500)! So far, I like what I have. I'm on my third point, and nearing the conclusion. When this whole agony ends, I'd be the happiest person in the universe (...not...)

Shit. A bug just swooped down.

*inspects bug*

I don't even know what kind of bug it is! It's small and WHITE and it FLIES. Eewww. I am so spraying Baygon in this room (the Computer Room) the moment I finish my essay.

Darn. Bugs. Hate 'em all so much.

GAH. Now I'm itching.

My mouth is sore. My throat hurts. My skin is bug-bitten. What else? Death? The Bubonic Plague? Worse, an allergy?!?!?!

NO. Seriously. I've had one too much already. I'm ITCHING!

Great. Now my beloved dogs are chewing my purple Havaianas to death. Well, it's okay actually. I don't like Havaianas anyway. They're the most overrated creatures in this universe. That's exactly why I don't use them outside the house. Yes, peeps. They're JUST SLIPPERS. I don't care how much they cost. They're STILL slippers. Call it flip-flops or not. They're JUST SLIPPERS. (The world officially hates me now).

Seriously, get real shoes.

They're JUST SLIPPERS!

Screw the World

Sudden fit of rage.

Why do people automatically "recognize ""Math and Science Geniuses"?

No, no. Don't answer that. That's a rhetorical question, stupid. Sheesh. Does the world not know how to differentiate rhetoric from non-rhetoric?

Why is it that when you're a math and science person, you get to be automatically deemed as "smart", good in analyzing, logic and critical thinking? Is the world's current basis for "intellect" NUMBERS? STATISTICS? DATA?

No. No. No. A BIG FAT NO.

People don't recognize those that excel in the field of English and Filipino. You see, even when there are awarding ceremonies, people award those that win in Math competitions. Science competitions. Math. Science. Math. What about ... us? The writers? The speakers? The English erudites? The lit lovers? The linguistic quiz bee champions?

See there's this BIG FAT discrimination here in Chiang Kai Shek. Not just CKSC. Even the world. I have proof for this but I'm too enraged to actually type DATA right now. Sure, you need DATA to prove things. But are mathematical and scientific data the only KINDS o' proofs you can garner?

Don't people get it?

When we the linguistic people write our essays, we THINK. We DON'T just put our opinions down. (Well, opinions do root from a brain, you know.) We extract "facts". We digest "facts". We analyze "facts". We avoid logical fallacies that can be extracted from "facts". We apply these "facts". We use our style to encompass these "facts".

So yes. We think critically, logically and analytically.

The moment those Math and Science people write a Pulitzer prize-winning editorial, and get up the stage to speak an award-winning speech, will be the only time that I could consider them "geniuses."

Those Ain't for Sale Anymore?

Never in a million years would I call myself a pessimist. I ain't one. And I don't wanna be one. And I guess, if you permit me to say, I will never be one.


...but I can't help but think this pessimistic thought: are friends - my friends, in particular - worth it? Are they actually worth fighting for? Are they real friends? When I said "my friends", I specifically meant the ones in my class - the new set of friends. The ones I see and talk to everyday. The ones I help and laugh with.

So yeah, they're there for the good times - the laughs, the smiles, the like.


But they're not there for the bad times. This is how they are when I talk to them: Friend A, he plays his online game, ignoring what I say in YM. Friend B, he laughs a lot (to every word I say, actually) so this isn't actually something that's healthy. Friend C, she judges my character. Friend D, she misinterprets what I say. Friend E, he doesn't know how to use his tongue to utter a word. Friend F isn't there at all. And the list goes on and on and on...

I don't have a great set of friends.

Now I can only rely on the remaining ones (the ones from Tsong San Chia Tsu, some seniors, some sophomores, 3-1 and the Writers' Guild). Particularly Camille. She's been such a nice friend. Listens every time you talk, gives great comments too.

I'm wondering. Good friends aren't for sale anymore? What does "for sale" even mean?

Sheesh.


Friends.


"If you don't have an enemy, make one."
- Some self-help book

Urge-Stifling

I may be academically degenerating but my life smarts are increasing each day (do I have the right to say that? *Laughs out loud*).

Well, see, I was researching about my topic for our English paper and realized I should base my facts from my previous Editorial "Stupid is the New Smart". But wait, before I go on, do you have any idea what my topic is? Come on! Guess! It's easy. It's obvious!

Moral Degeneration.

*Dies laughing*


If you refer to a LOT of my previous posts, you'd realize how obsessed I am with those two words. Hey, Mrs. Ong was the one who chose that! I gave her a list of topics (said list includes Sarah Palin and McCain, of course), but I have no idea why she chose that one.

So. Stupid is the New Smart. I started reading the first line.

"When a juvenile is approached..."

Eek. I died even before I finished reading the whole paragraph. HOW TRITE COULD I HAVE BEEN? WHY HAD I WRITTEN CRAP? Was that really JUST a year ago? HAS MY WRITING EVOLVED THIS MUCH? I CAN'T BELIEVE I PUBLISHED CRAP LAST YEAR - ON MY EDITORIAL, EVEN!

I can't believe how improved my writing now is. Now, I'm more... rational. Thankfully. Goodbye, Miss Trite. Hello, Hopeful.

I guess my writing's improved because I am improved.

Ya know what they say, writing isn't about vocab, grammar and putting those two both. It's about the writer's mind.

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!

Dunno Why

I have this sudden strong aversion towards crappy status messages.

I hate it when they say "DND" in their status messages. I mean, if you don't want others to disturb you, what's the damned purpose of going online? If you can give me an answer that I can't counter, well, all hail you and your DND.

The second thing I hate: when people keep on using the word "BUSY" when someone else uses the word "BUSY" and then all of your YM Friends start using the word "BUSY" just for the heck of it.

Third, quotations. If you wanna quote somebody just for the kinks of it, then make sure the quotation has an impact, a striking X-factor that can make jaws drop. If your quotation is incapable of doing so, then, MAKE IT do so.

Well, those are just my opinions - blunt, straightforward and frank. (As always.)

After all...

Catherine Tan (Status Message):
*State: Full of opinions - strong ones. Mood: Intense. Mode: Aggressive. Mantra: The world is so full of pretense.*

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 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.

Why Do These Things Keep Happening to Me?

I really wish I could say "enough of the drama". Or "I'm cutting out the drama". Or "my life is void of drama". But I really can't. It's like a genetic DISABILITY. Take note, DISABILITY, not INABILITY.

Sometimes, the drama's all in THE MIND.

I need a shrink for this one.

First of all, lemme describe an average day in my life. Today would be a good start. I go to school happy and all that since I rank 8 in my class, got the highest grade in blah blah blah (I do not wanna start bragging). I even shriek in the appropriate times. I even act like a normal person. But then comes 2nd period. I begin to worry. Worry about that oratorical competition thingy. Mrs. Ong had asked me to TIE MY HAIR IN A FULL PONYTAIL. Which is like a curse on my part because of my face shape (think FAT GIRL).

Of course, I laugh about those stuff. I laugh at myself you know. I'm not all high and mighty, contrary to pessimistic belief.

Now I begin to think about my worrying. WHY AM I EVEN WORRIED? I ask myself (2nd period). Just the thought of it makes my heart go gaga. Literally. It's:

1. 55% excitement (to see the outcome)
2. 15% adrenaline
3. 20% fear (of losing)
4. 10% anxiety (of all of the above)

That's a total of 100%. That 100% takes over my body like a lethal injection. As a reflex, my heart beats non-systematically. It fluctuates. It goes thump thump thump. Then thump thump thump 12 times. Then multiply that by 12 again. And again. And again. I am not kidding. I really lose oxygen - I'm asthmatic too. Then I could feel myself gag. I wanna barf. And because I don't actually barf, I keep coughing. And coughing. And then the watery thing fills my eyes. Not TEARS! Just that watery thing. People ask: "are you crying?"

They think I'm crying tears of joy.

It's true, the past week's been bliss.

I'm like "NO". I feel like barfing. But I don't add that since it will simply catalyze a barrage of questions - HATEABLE questions - "are you okay?", "wanna go to the comfort room?" or worse: "CAT, OKAY KA LANG??".

I feel as if my body is immobilized.

Because of that oratorical thingy. As I experience that bodily phenomenon, my mind wanders. If I don't win this oratorical audition/thingy/whatever/elimination round, it will be the end of my career as we know it. If I win this oratorical thingy, my anxiety will be down by (a measly) 5%. If I don't win this thing, I will kill myself since I fear failure. If I win this thing, I will be self-satisfied.

There's a billion more where that came from....

But in lieu of thinking about the billion, I subdue myself to the bodily phenomenon. I find it harder to breathe. My heart is beating too fast. I feel weak because of oxygen sufficiency. I feel immobilized by too much blood rush. My head is spinning because of those aforementioned questions. My back begins to hurt for reasons I am unaware of. My whole body system wants to shut down but my mind makes it stop. And... and...

I rehearse the speech inside my head.

Oh, and then this thought strikes me: OMG. When is Mrs. Ong going to rehearse with me? What time did she say again? 3rd period? NEXT PERIOD? When's the contest, in the first place? What period? I should've asked Caryl! Dammit, I do not want to lose to anyone! I wrote the piece they're going to memorize!

The bell rings.

I escape. But as I do so, I begin to feel my claustrophobia seething in. Shit.

Of all fears, why do I have to be claustrophobic?

Third period comes. Values. Role play. Thank God for ad lib! Although it was a success, the only thing on my mind all throughout was: where is Mrs. Ong?

Shit.

Then the same bodily phenomenon overcomes me the moment I sit. Only now, it's worsened by questions - MENTAL questions. I ask... (in my head)... what if he gets a higher score than me on next quarter's report card thingy? What if I begin to decline? What if I flunked that? What if I didn't deserve that perfect score? Shit. Where's Mrs. Ong? What am I supposed to do? The bell's about to ring and I'm still HERE. Good goddess, everyone's reading Tech! We have a quiz! I need to get a damned perfect score if I wanna compete with these people! But...but how could I study now when the words don't enter my mind? I can't comprehend a damned thing! Aack my eyes hurt!! Stupidity scratched it to redness last night! Crap. I feel sleepy NOW. Tech...tech...tech...

Those questions heighten the negative effect of said bodily phenomenon to me as a human being.

And the cycles get worse each time.

I manage to live off time during 4th period. But in fact, I was secretly rehearsing the piece back in my head. Elaine asks something. I'm pretty sure I say: "the problem is, I've never joined an oratorical contest before. I've always joined declamation contests. And my experience there is, like, *hand gestures that denote "vast"*. So ...." I shrug.

Deep inside, I want to curl up to bed.

5th period is a nightmare.

First, this guy (he who shall not be named because we're not really uber close friends) from 4-6 in a barong comes in my Tech class (we're in the Tech Lab) and asks for "Miss Catherine". I leave. I tie my hair. No prob. No biggie.

When I entered 4-6 (Mrs. Ong was there, wearing a yellow Filipiniana), Mam Ong uttered words I did not hear. I have ear problems. And I just stand there NODDING to something I can't even hear; second-guessing. AGAIN. Then I leave.

I wish to guess what she said right. As I understand it, I must to go back to take the Tech quiz first, then come back to her later. No idea on what "later" meant.

Blah blah blah. I took the test. And then all of a sudden, I find myself cursing at my monitor. For freaking shallow reasons. (It's kinda funny NOW). Mam Pablo probably heard this and thought I was cursing her (oh please no, Mam Pablo's like one of my fave teachers) so she said it's ok for me to go back to Mrs. Ong.

I freeze in my seat.

I don't wanna orate.

Nuh-uh.

Of course, that's the stupidest thing you could say to yourself. "I don't wanna orate."

God, Miss Pablo's just so nice, you know.

I head back. Only, in that process, I find another 4-6 guy, on his way to the Tech Lab to "fetch" me. And this sucks because I don't wanna seem all VIP to the world you know. I hate that kind of attention.

I spend an ENORMOUS amount of time fixing my hair AFTER THAT. I don't know. I have hair issues, okay?

Boy, do I love Mrs. Ong. I really, really do. I look up to her. Up UP.

I come to 4-6 8 minutes later to find no Mrs. Ong in front of the class. So I head for the faculty. Before I do that, my Guild comrade Pauline and the 4-6 guy come to stop me from doing that because it turns out Mrs. Ong was seated at the back. It was embarrassing since the 4-6 guy was like, "hey, over here" or something like that. He had this very weird smile on, and I felt like I was the shittiest, weirdest person in the universe. It freaking made me feel inferior. It wasn't HIS fault, of course. The guy's nice.

I speak in front - BUT BEFORE I DO, SOMETHING WEIRD SLIPS OUT OF MY MOUTH. I was all: "Can I ask a question first, is Lindsley the contestant for the oratorical?" Well, Linds and I know each other so it's okay since ... since she's Lindsley. And basically half, if not a quarter of the senior English section knows me. It wasn't at all embarrassing while I was standing there. It was only after the speech, after I said: "thank you" and "bye bye" to the class that I realized I was so stupid for having to ask that fucking question.

It has nothing to do with 4-6 or Mrs. Ong - in fact, those are two things (THINGS?) I respect and revere. It has something to do WITH ME. Why do I have to be so damned screwed in the first place? The good news was/is: I felt good. I think I actually aced it. The BEST NEWS IS: my written piece was chosen for the Infantado-Ylagan (service excellence of teachers for nation-building) oratorical competition!!!!!! Oh, and the real contest was postponed to Monday).

Icing on the cake, y'all. I'm still the best writer in town (ahem, delete all bragging undertones - better yet, delete the whole sentence since some Miss Emo might burst again).

The rest is history. But hah! Think again! The bodily phenomenon still fluttered on me up to Chinese.

And it forever will.

Now, answer this for me, why don't you: WHY DO THESE THINGS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME?

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....

If I Were Queen of the World...

I'd


Make


It


Perfect.



I'd


Build


Utopia.


I'd


Care


About


All


of


You.

My Heart is on My Sleeves

It's been so long since I last posted, that's the evident truth. Another evident truth is, that I may actually be in Stage 2 of self-actualization. Perhaps, I'm gonna need to babble in this post to expound.

Sorry, Fictio Auto, you're not updated with my life anymore. Tsk Tsk Tsk. Actually, 50% of the people who became part of my life last school year ain't updated with my life anymore. Tsk Tsk Tsk. I don't really know what happened, but it just sort of did.

You see, I'm the kind of person who likes variety (yes, a la LL). And in this variety, I want change. I want heaps of change. I want peoples' eyes to be open to the world of diversity! I mean, if you wanna be really good, you can't just sit there and watch the world rotate in its axis. You're supposed to MOVE with it, nutjob! For all you know the world keeps rotating and you're just there sitting in your arse, laughing your arse off with your friends, staring at ME who's workin' my arse off trying to move the world with my own little voice, my own little force. So basically, those who sit, laugh arses off and watch me work my arse off are outta my life. By hook or by crook.

That sounds mean, eh? Well, it's just frank.

This is actually nice, getting to know my self.

But the negative side is, the 50% who sit, laugh and stare; and equally don't know me are left in the poor fray. I want to include them in my life. And I'm 100% sure that they want me to be in theirs - as they say so - but it's gonna take more than my little voice to do so.

I just keep getting sick and tired of the same things. The same WRONG things. The same immature things. The same overrated things. So sick of it all.

I want to hear new laughter. I want to hear the music of their guffaws for good reasons. For mature reasons. Nobody's moving. We're all supposed to mature together. But what's happening, exactly? Devolution of the human teenagers? Such flaws. So many flaws, so little time.

I've tried my hand at what I do best - helping. Psychoanalyzing each and every individual. Does it work? Yes! But does it work effective immediately? NO! Besides, 50% of the 50% are using me for academic, intellectual reasons. Some friends you are!

A tiny flame in my head burst my bubble. According to this flame, what I aim for is impossible. For real, I extinguished that damn flame the minute it ignited. Seriously. My friends - my long-time friends since first year (Cha, Mollie, Camille - just to name a staggering few) are still here. With me. Updated. Not sitting, laughing and staring. But they're moving with me.

And hopefully that would go the same way with my other friends who, unfortunately have marauded into the limbo of oblivion.

Wake up! You're 20,000 leagues under this loamy soil!

SATIRE! Soulja WHAT?

If you know me, you'd know that I care about the world. Right?

You know that I don't sit on my arse all day thinking about crappy stuff like, maybe, a nonexistent palace in the sky. I don't listen to music without my mind functioning.

You know that I care about promiscuity, about Obama and Clinton - and their recent comedic appearances on TV, about stupidity, about overcrowding and overpopulation, about the world's worst Hollywood actors and actresses, about Lindsay Lohan's sobriety and about feminisim, marxism, even feudalism!

But, guess. I care most about: global warming. And global warming often leads to pollution. And pollution, in the past, made me think of air pollution, land pollution AND water pollution. BUT now is totally different.

Noise pollution.

And noise pollution means Soulja Boy Crank Dat Tellem whatever. Consider me a downright antipatica, if you may. Consider me a bee, if you want. Consider me a hater, even. I just want to get my point across.

SOULJA WHATEVER sucks. If I hear another one of those crappy, worthless, and senseless inutile lyrics or words that don't mean a single thing when combined, I will terminate and vaporize the nearest TV screen (and that's my flat screen TV).

His music, if you can call it "music" and not "noise" is totally placing a barrier towards communication and it obstructs the true meaning of "art". As an artist and a lover of music, I have the right to say: He sucks.

I know what you may think. "Who does she think she is? Criticizing Billboard's and the music industry's overachieving musician? Heck, she hasn't even sold a bestseller! This antipatica should just shut her mouth up, you know! Doodz, she's like so boastful! She thinks she knows art! Damn this woman! Scorn her!"

For the love of Lifehouse! Look at his name! Is that, what, a satiric parody? As a fan of the music industry, I am so aware that Destiny's Child released a single called "Soldier" way back then. I do believe that Soulja whatever decided to, maybe, play a spoof on them?

I care about people who have tinnitus and other ear-related symptoms. Really. I'm not the only one who hates this. I represent the handful of people who keep their voice on the low as they are afraid that Soulja whatever might send a group of grammatically-challenged, tone deaf producers out here on the run.

One more thing, the more you play Soulja whatever's song on your MP3, and put it on LOUDSPEAKER, the more people die of dizziness. This thing called an earphone has been invented since the 90's so to keep your disease, baleful noise pollution kept under scrutiny and reclusion. HAVE YOU EVER HEARD PEOPLE LIKE ME GO ON PUTTING THEIR SONGS ON LOUDSPEAKER WHEN "HANGING OUT" IN THE STREETS? No.

Soulja is taking advantage of his ghetto-black appearance. I have all the respect for all the races in the world, but I really have a personal distaste for Soulja's soul.

So what's it gonna be? Crank 'em wit dat hoe and dance 'em up in ya toe? Watchin' 'im supah soakin' he hoe? Placin' 'im a supah man in he gig?

Whatever, soulja. Hey, I know your song. Just so that I could hate it in detail.

Here's a better one with Cameron Diaz classing it all up. Yes, classing it all up. Cl-Ass.