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.

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.

I Remember...

I remember…

…the weirdest thing I have ever done.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was embarrassed!

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

I hope I’m not the only weird one.