The Sound of Heaven Pulling Down

2011 First Personal Entry (to be revised)

2011-01-10T23:06:00.004+08:00

Wow, its been so long since I have wrote! I wanted to but I was a tad preoccupied with all the things that had been going on with my life. But finally, I have it again! I have a lot of entries to make up for, a lot of stories to be told.

My first personal entry of the year is about him. The same man who swept me off my feet last 2009 and I'm so lucky to have him this 2011 :)) I'd been redoing this entry for like three times, trying to put into words on how my feeble eyes see him...

The sky lit his face with bursts of ruby, indigo, emerald, and gold, silencing the explosions with a single spectacle of his beauty. He was an angel lit by the fire of the night. He stood knee deep in the foamy undulation, the last wisps of a dying sunset caressing his exuberant smile. He was a god bathed in the opulence of heaven. He cherishes that which is overlooked... palm trees are sights, and the sea is almost a dream. He lives under the rule of her heart, shirking a fear that we who love as we do harbor. He makes everyday something to be remembered.

The stars shine at his approach, and the moon is his alone. The sun is his smile and the sky fails to rival his eyes. And such divinity I call mine by the mere act of giving myself in return; such feeble payment almost an affront but perfectly fitting in his eyes.

I don't know why but this entry really drives me off the brink, but these words written really doesn't perfectly fit, I guess I'm not usual self tonight.

He leaves wet towels on the bed, and leaves all the lights on sometimes. He doesn't like politics, but somehow in spite of that he's a worrier, he worries incessantly. And that's fine because I'd enjoy nothing more than to kiss him on the cheeks and tell him it's going to be ok. And we're going to bicker at the bookstore about computer games, notebooks, etc. , and one day he's going to call me with names he comes up with and I'll often get mad if he'll ignore me- and stay utterly disappointed 'till I fall asleep next to the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. He is so completely flawed (and I am too) but his flaws are what make him perfect. I'll think it's cute when he gets neurotic about seeing my family, or leaves his clothes strewn about, or completely spilled out any of his surprises.

Gaa.. I don't even know how to put an end on my blathering. One thing is for sure, he's the man I want, the man I love, the man that I'll have til the last day of my life. PERIOD.

The One That Got Away

2011-01-10T22:00:00.000+08:00

My friend told me about this article, decided to repost it. This was written by Mark J. Macapagal and was published in The Manila Times.

In your life, you’ll make note of a lot of people. Ones with whom you shared something special and ones who will always mean something. There’s the one you first kissed, the one you first loved, the one you lost your virginity to, the one you put on a pedestal, the one you’re with…and the one that got away.

Who is the one that got away? I guess it’s that person with whom everything was great, everything was perfect, but the timing was just wrong. There was no fault in the person nor flaw in the chemistry, but the cards just didn’t fall the right way, I suppose.

I believe in the fact that ending up with someone, finding a longtime partner that is, does not lie merely in the other person. I can actually argue that an equal part, or maybe even the greater part, has to do with the matter of timing. It has to do with you being ready to settle down and commit to someone in a way that goes beyond the little niceties of giddy romance.

How often have you gone through it without even realizing it? When you’re not ready to commit in that mature manner, it doesn’t matter who you’re with, it just doesn’t work. Small problems become big; inconsequential become deal breakers simply because you’re not ready and it shows. It’s not that you and the person you’re with are no good; it’s just that it’s not yet right, and little things become the flashpoint of that fact.

Then one day you’re ready. You really are. And when this happens you’ll be ready to settle down with someone. He or she may not be the most perfect, they might not be the brightest star of romance to ever have burned in your life, but it’ll work because you’re ready. It’ll work because it’s the right time and you’ll make it work. And it’ll make sense, it really will.

So that day comes when you’re finally making sense of things, and you find yourself to be a different person. Things are different, your approach is different, you finally understand who you are and what you want and you’ve become ready because the time has truly arrived. And mind you, there’s no telling when this day will come. Hopefully, you’re single or be in a long-term relationship, or be married with three kids…it doesn’t matter. All you know is that you have changed. And for some reason, the one that got away, is the first person you think about.

You’ll think about them because you’ll wonder, “What if they were here today?” , “What if we were together now, with me as I am and not as I was?” .The one that got away is– the biggest “What if?” you’ll have in your life.

If you’re married, you’ll just have to accept the fact that the one that got away, got away. Believe me, no matter how fairy tale you think your marriage is, this can happen to the best of us. But hopefully you’re mature enough to realize that you’re already with the one you’re with and this is just another test of your commitment, one which will just strengthen your marriage when you get past it. Sure, you’ll think about him/her every so often, but it’s alright. It’s never nice to live with a “might have been,” but it happens.
Maybe the one that got away is the one who’s already married. In which case it’s the same thing. You just have to accept and know that your memories of that person will probably bring a nice little smile to your lips in the future when you’re old and gray and reminiscing.

But if neither of that is the case, then it’s different. What do you do if it’s not yet too late? Simple –find him or find her. The very existence of a “one that got away” means that you’ll always wonder…what if you got that one? Ask him out to coffee. Ask her out to a movie. It doesn’t matter if you’ve dropped in from out of nowhere. You’d be surprised, you just might be “the one that got away” as well for the person who is your “the one that got away.” You might drop in from out of nowhere and it won’t make a difference. If the timing is finally right, it’ll all just fall into place somehow. It would be a great feeling in the end, to be able to say to someone, “Hey you, you’re the one that almost got away.”

I'm the with the one that got away, I'm happy I have him now :))

No updates as of late

2010-10-30T20:15:00.001+08:00

...Because I'm rewriting my 50 page journal (yeeeaah, go me, deleting the first in a fit of anger), and starting TWO new writing projects: "Of lamentation & Penance: Paying hell for heaven" (basically it's about about the man I love and the ups and downs of love), and an untitled piece about UST (detailing my struggles, my qualms, and my futile stabs at acceptance.) And these just aren't essays... I'm projecting all of them will be well over 150 pages.

Sooo yeah, time consuming, but it's not like I have an exciting life to blog about anyway. But, just so you're hip with my lame life, here's me in a nutshell: college work is kicking my ass (yet again), I'm out of shape and hate it (yet I'm eating donuts right now... how fitting), and I'm in love with an angel I am nowhere near worthy of (yet I can't shake my desires). I really wanted to join pride/progress UST environment club this year... but I'm lazy and didn't, and my lack of like minded friends (or any friends at all) is KILLING me. The only thing that has kept me sane is DX1... not because I find it particularly enthralling, but because it gives me something to do other than class, sleep, eat, and bitch on my laptop.

So there ya go. When I'm done with any of the aforementioned writing pieces (I guess you could call them books, but I'm not that pompous), I'll post them, but I doubt anyone besides my dearest (and maayyybe Bretty and Shaun) will take a gander at them. They won't be done for a good while though.

I get to stay here in Bicol for 11 days more... yessssssssss. Manila is beginning to kinda sorta maybe ENTIRELY be a downer. Like for real: I was at Starbucks last week, and as I was walking out a 4x4, covered in mud, with a confederate flag painted on the back window and the ugliest redneck (with a mullet and trucker cap!) came whizzing by... with holler back girl blaring on the stereo!!! WHAT IN THE HELL?!

Yeeeaaaahhhh, I'm just gonna pretend like I didn't see that for the sake of my sanity.

Que que?

2010-07-16T23:22:00.000+08:00

A lot of random things on my mind:

One week until I get to visit my lovely. I don't think I've ever been this excited about anything :)
I have a bunch little thingies I need to do to get ready for. It's not like it's anything major, so it's all alright, but still they need to get done.
One of my friends just sort of... dropped off of the face of the earth. She won't return ANYONE'S calls or e-mails. We hope she's okay. We miss her.
On the other hand I've been neglecting to respond to or acknowledge a friend of mine. I feel bad about that. I need to apologize and hang out with him soon.
Two of my good friends are having problems with their relationship together, which is really sad because seemingly they made such a great couple. I'm positive things will turn out alright for them though.
I went through an old HS binder of mine. I think it's the most hilarious thing ever that there are a bunch of figures drawn and strange words from some teachers.
I so need to prepare for my audition. Like tonight.
I have this fascination of saying things in an INDIAN ACCENT!

Capable of Carrying such Devotion

2010-07-12T23:51:00.000+08:00

If questioned,

I would proclaim my love to all who inquired

If doubted,

I would write my professions with my blood

Atop the whitest of snow

If asked,

I would show my devotion with the most irrational of acts

My love is intricate, as are my means of conveyance

My declarations shall be endless

Every image within the great expanse of the universe

Could be a testament of thy beauty

I will make them so

---------------------------------------------

Sometimes when it's cold out, I like to lie in bed. The warmth is so inviting, consuming; I feel so safe and content. But lately my comfort has been empty, I feel as if it should be shared with you. I often find myself pondering, "I wonder what he would think of this" or "I wonder if he'd like this too" when I partake in things. A few mornings ago, as I watched the sunrise, as I watched dawns rosy hues paint the sky, I wished so hard that I could show you what I see, that I could box it up and present it to you. Or when I go on my late night walks, and suddenly in the darkness the heavy clock tower chimes resonate within me, I wish you could feel it. But most of all I wish you could somehow experience what I feel for you. To coin it as love would not do my affection justice. It's the stars and the moon, a warm spring breeze. It's every good feeling you've ever felt, every sight that made your heart swell in its magnificence. And if only I had the capability of conveying it, I fear anything I could do to display it- my kisses my touch, my embrace- would fall short of what you deserve...

It's been a year and i'm loving you more and more. Thank you for everything.

unexpected surprise <3

by the way spain reigned the world cup :)

I Play for Me

2010-06-28T10:45:00.001+08:00

After living the past year answering to my anger Ive realized... my motivation needs to be strictly intrinsic. Currently Im driven by motivations of mere revenge and retribution. Revenge is an emotion indebted and I want to answer only to myself. Retribution should be left to karma lest I play God and send myself to a hell of my own design. I need to forget my past detractors and play for myself, not the thought of reveling in success before my former antagonists. I play because I love it, not because I need to prove myself to anyone else. I play because I am a winner, not because of my past losses.

LIFE IS A GAME. AND I'LL WIN IT!

Though my ascension will be lengthy, so too shall be my success. The latter shall be just payment for all my troubles along the way. From here on out I play for me and only me... and I'm playing for keeps.

"Glazed Bagels"

2010-06-06T09:40:00.001+08:00

Sometimes my mind goes retarded. I have no control over when and where, and I have no idea why. Two days in a row now, it has short circuited. So yesterday i'm in Breeks (local coffee shop near our house) in the register's line, and my mom asked me to buy glazed donuts and go astray from our usual bagel. So the lady comes to me and asks me what I want. I say "may I have a glazed bagel please?" she begins to stare at me as if I have said the most incomprehensible thing ever uttered. "you want what?!" so I go a little louder this time "a GLAZED BAGEL!"

Okay enough said, I sounded like a retard. so today I go out to get breakfast, and I tell myself over and over in my head "a glazed donut, a glazed donut, a glazed DONUT..." alright so the moment of truth comes. "what can i get for you sweetie?"... "i'll have a glazed bagel." AHHHHHHHH. I am going mental.

Dreams and Taillights

2010-06-01T21:21:00.005+08:00

biking by ~handrysek

Often times I find myself biking, driving lost, blowing through breath taking back roads with my eyes fixed on taillights leaving me in the dust... like all the other god forsaken dreams I’ve ever dared have. They glow against the caliginosity like embers and I can’t look away. I don’t even focus at the road; I just follow their glimmer of tangibility. Doing so could very well leave me in a ditch, or missing a turn straight into a light post, but it’s comforting, to trust and be led by hope and assumption, even if I paid for it with my life. I oft find myself scanning the horizon. I could stop and look at the farmers plowing the field, but there’s something so exquisitely satisfying about not knowing what I'm searching for, and finding exactly what I want. Usually I stop on some old shed near the beach, or on the side of the road with a ridiculous scarecrow near it. I can’t help but beam a smile. If I’m lucky, I see some little kids running on the road, carefree, naive, and talk to them for a while. And I can tell them exactly what I’m feeling and get some giggles after my little stories. Then everything congeals into the pleasantness of staring ahead aimlessly, some somber strums, back to the bike and the feel the wheel in my hand as I accelerate.

HOPE-LESS

2010-05-04T08:12:00.000+08:00

Hope doesn't have a purpose. It's just a temporary pick me up whensomething of vested interest, that's completely out of your control, is about to transpire. Temporary in that it's usefulness shall at some point or another become null and void, pointless because whether you're hopeful or not, what will be, shall be. It's an idle emotion, a crutch. I'd rather just go about listless, expecting nothing, knowing that I can't change a god damn thing, or will into existence what I want, no matter how bad I want it. Because what's the point of happiness if it will come to truly be soon enough, unfettered, or on the other hand, if the seeds of it's destruction already exist.

I'm Dying Tomorrow!

2010-04-20T13:57:00.001+08:00

I dont know why I love this song so much. As cliche as it sounds, maybe because it realistically reminds me to live today as if its my last, enjoy myself. Its not chastising me to enjoy life but urging me in human terms. It strikes a common chord within me. I like the checklist, its life at its best, unsullied by inhibition or fear of consequence. Its innocently self indulgent while being preoccupied with the well being of others... I love it. I mostly see the checklist as a metaphor though I love the examples (save for "take lots of pills"). Correlated in order of the questions:

1. Did I remember to relax?

2. Be youthfully decadent?

3. Live without fear of consequence or inhibition?

4. Be cheeky?

5. Make sure everyone is as well taken care of and as happy as me?

6. Be courteous?

7. Mind the well being of others?

8.Live life to the fullest?

9. Enjoy myself?

10. Be thankful?

Thats just my interpretation I suppose, but it serves me well.

"Im Dying Tomorrow" - The Alkaline Trio

Im dying tomorrow

In this house, this street, Chicago

Im dying tomorrow

Did I, did I do it right?

Did I remember to sleep in(#1),

Take lots of pills(#2),

Commit irreversible sins(#3)?

Did I, did I at least try

To kiss the prettiest girl at the right time(#4)?

Did I remember to keep your beer as full as mine(#5)?

Did I, did I remember to say cheers(#6)?

Did I, did I at least try

to make sure everybody had a good time...

Had the best time(#7)?

Im dying tomorrow

In this house, this street, Chicago

Im dying tomorrow

Did I, did I do it right?

Did I remember to stay up late(#8)?

Drinking for the fun,

Singing for the taste(#9)?

Did I, did I run outside to

kiss the rain under electrical skies(#10)?

Did I remember to keep your beer as full as mine?

Did I, did I remember to say cheers?

Did I, did I at least try

to make sure everybody had a good time...

Had the best time?

Im dying tomorrow

In this house, on this street, Chicago

Im dying tomorrow

Did I, did I do it right?

I've Decided

2010-03-28T16:11:00.001+08:00

That what is "right" is intrinsic, God given, and may only be conveyed through wordless actions. As soon as someone tries to argue whats right, its wrong, because once we verbally express it in this realm of mortal fallibility, its compromised, subject to interpretation. Argument belittles purpose and turns piety into something to be won rather than an inherent truth. It warps God into pride. We cannot adequately assign Gods principles so we shouldn't, it isn't necessary. We may only do. Doing whats right is pious, and piety is God. When we reflect divine principles we are as close to enlightenment (God) as we may be ere death depart us.

Life Meanders

2010-02-28T19:57:00.011+08:00

February 25th was the day.

New developments:

I'm 18.
I'm actually passing and acing all of my classe
27 days till I go to BICOL to see my dearest :)

My life is rather monotonous, with little variation. I am not over worked though, and occupy a nice chunk of my time loving an absolutely amazing guy, so I suppose my increasing tolerance and taste for a life with little to do but love and exist is understandable. Laudable? Perhaps not... I have still yet have certain plans of doing my own business. Which makes me feel all of about two at eighteen. But it's all rectifiable with moderate changes in my schedule and sleep pattern. My birthday was uneventful, as expected, as I bid it to be. My dad arrived in the country, and took me out to dinner, my actual birthday consisted of lunch with my acquaintances near my flat and a night out with close friends. Friday and Saturday was spent with my dearest and high school friends. (I'm still having a post birthday celebration this summer due to my mom's request). And it seems all so detestable, but not really. I've been increasingly avoidant of social interaction. I am un- amused by it at this point in time, and as harsh as it may sound, overbearing friends are ignored altogether. I'm not searching for some faux friendships solely for some tenuous satiation of the need to interact. I don't have that need at this point in time. But it comes in cycles, and the safety of routine and solitariness is the mode in which I choose to exist and thrive. Here's something that pisses me off right now: My lack of political activism. This needs to change, lest I be sucked into the disgusting complacency of comfort. The "give me my big screen, SUV, house, and cheetos and I'm set" mentality is not for me. Though I can't completely claim to be free of the obligatory greed to live a comfortable life, I am more self aware of my privilege than most, and I abhor that I eat my fill when others starve. And I'm spent.

Four Days..

2010-02-21T02:59:00.001+08:00

...Until I turn 18. It will be a day of laughable liminality for me. Oh sure, I won't be the little girl anymore, but can I drink legally (not that I care)? And I certainly don't conduct myself as independently as the age implies. I live with my parents; they pay for my schooling, pay for everything. I don't drive yet. I'm entirely attached by the umbilical cord to my parents, who still selflessly provide for me. It's all rather daunting.

In my defense I'm rather atypical for someone in my age bracket. I listen to Beatles and watch Discovery Channel & CNN like its my job, I choose nameless indie movies over the block busters, and I'm more globally aware than I care to be. I can tell you why Gale Norton is arguably the biggest threat to the environment, in detail. I like to blather on why GILBERT "GIBO TEODORO" is the best guy for the office. Ken Saro Wiwa, Albert Schweitzer, Rachel Corrie, Paulo Coelho, Jose Rizal, G. W. Bush... all names people most likely aren’t familiar with though they're the souls I aspire to emulate. And everyone could care less I'm guessing… I'm just trying to convey the lack of similar people my age.

I probably sound pompous. I probably am. I've just been consumed with the desire for more independence in my actions, the overall character of my being. The solution, simple: get off my ass and get my license and a job. I'm on it.

This really didn't have a point, did it?

Wildflowers of Ixtab

2010-02-17T03:54:00.052+08:00

From springs emerald fecundity emerged

Spontaneities masterpieces

Of indigo, sanguine and lilac

Diamond dew drop draped,

In the morns bright rays

Iridescent testaments of ephemerality

The pastel paragons of the stars

Unfurl in opulent efflorescence

That we may delight in their splendor

For a blink of a vernal dream

And nary a second more

Impermanence,

Beauty's curse and adorations anguish,

Deems their time

Shy of our satiation

That they may be remembered

In immaculate glory

Compendious spring

Doth serve its purpose

Flashing the covetable spoils of heaven

Lest, relegated to the mundane,

Mortal unworthiness leech its allure

The finest of Gods creations ill favored

Ere their nascent squalls

Their soul they acquiesced

To be heaven lead by Ixtabs embrace;

Their petals granted eternity

Tween Rosemary pages fondly pressed,

In defiant ebullient glow

Their immortality bestowed with the tears

That do freely fall for the peace

Of Ixtabs wildflowers

In ethereal permanence

*Ixtab= Mayan goddess of suicide, who led the souls of the people who committed suicide to heaven.*

-this is for one of my blog readers Elison :) * thank you*

it wasn't as good as my previous post cause my thoughts

are somewhat detached with my usual self, lol

OH IT'S MY 100TH ENTRY :)

How nice it is...

2010-02-14T23:48:00.008+08:00

"To have a valentine, one you truly love, one with whom you'd like to spend the rest of your life with. I don't know how I ever got so lucky, and I've thanked my lucky stars so many times that I think they want me to shut up... but I still remain ever thankful, though incredulous that such an angel chooses to love me. I don't question why, I only feel and act, we mortals are not capable of comprehending such a divine love. All I may do is exalt, praise, and love, it's all I can do, and that's all I can ever offer with 100% certainty. I've never been so happy in my entire life.."

Hate is Disturbing

2010-02-04T22:55:00.003+08:00

Wow, what vile louts. I can see how people became Nazis back in the day; Hitler just played on everyones irrational fears. I guess when youre a zenophobe its easy to be ugly.It so much easier to hate than love, its sickening, and so widely accepted. I detest how hate can be a valid view point nowadays.

People are materialistic and self absorbed; whats theirs is theirs, and no one elses. It seems they didnt evolve from the "ME" mentality from their terrible twos. It has become apparent to me that nothing is solely ours. What we have was given to us by God and by our ancestors, and is a gift from both. Life is communal as well as a bestowment to future generations, we should treat it as such with both gratitude and reverence. Possessions are not exclusive, even if we have little it is our duty to give. We should stop asking whether people deserve it and give merely for the act of giving. What people fail to realize is that we are all of the same source, and thus are all a part of God. Doing for others is doing for God, living piously, so why is it that we question selflessness? If we all give then no one will ever be without. And who truly desires to have anyway? Decadence and excess are disturbing incarnations of the hedonism we are all taught is acceptable in western society.

I am eternally lost in a society I shall never come to terms with.

Woe is the Humble Sun

2010-02-03T21:41:00.000+08:00

Woe is the humble sun
in such scintillating omnipotence
unaware in anguish
as a knavish lord
is creation enslaved
in deified divinity

-it's official I suck in writing, gaa.. I'm so cliche as usual when it comes to creating poems, haha..

Decorative Lettuce

2010-02-02T20:47:00.001+08:00

It's a tragedy, an artful paradigm of the rampant wastefulness in developed nations. It just sits there, unused, unnoticed, unappreciated. It was grown to nourish, just as its counterparts who manage to make their way into sandwiches and salads were, and yet, its just a garnish. Of course it serves the purpose of presentation, but it seems a menial in comparison to its siblings who propagate life. Most lettuce is devoured while decorative lettuce is relegated to a meaningless life of decor. Cruel and unfair fate to see the leaf directly next to it go to a meal and then find itself being laid under some French fries to be forgotten.

So lets do the lettuce a favor and take a big bite out of the garnish at each meal..

*a green stuff & a green start for my BLOG'S NEW GREENY LOOK

Closer

2010-01-30T17:27:00.001+08:00

A month's pass and a step closer, I do not shy, I'm not afraid. The flight is booked, my heart is set, is it possible for one to be apprehensively bold and ready? Ever eager but shy? I'm not in habit of questioning heart or gut, so I don't, not readily at least, but I still cannot live down a nervousness that resides deep in the pit of my gut. I'm more concerned about myself than anything. I don't think it's him I ever wonder about, or my love for that matter, but rather, the vessel in which I reside. But live it down I will, this personal dissatisfaction... I'd rather love her fully than be daunted by petty worry.

The Ulysses Factor Revisited

2010-01-27T16:43:00.010+08:00

Last year, I mentioned something interesting here in my blog. It has to do with how much effort it takes to live a normal day in my life. I said that these days it takes very little effort for me to get through a single day.

Those of you who are old-school readers of this blog may remember my obsession with James Joyce's novel Ulysses. I read it all through a good portion of my senior year of high school and was fascinated by it for a couple of years afterward. I always told myself that I'd reread it when I finished college.

Well, it's now looking like I'll be graduating most likely in 2012. Just that thought gives me chills. If everything

goes on schedule, it will take me four years to get a bachelor's degree, as I started college in 2008.

But overall, one trend has become clear. Life gets less difficult the older you get. All through life I was taught

that the opposite is true. In kindergarten, they said first grade would be hard. The same was said of second grade during first. In fifth grade, they said middle school would be harder. Same for high school and college. Well, as life goes on the amount of work and effort I've put into life has decreased, not increased. I put little effort into life because that's all it requires. All I do is get up, do a few chores, study, write, hang around the house, go on a drive with friends, go home, go to bed.

Those of you who have read Ulysses or recall what I said about it back in the old days know what the point of the book is. The point is that a parallel is being drawn between a typical day in today's society (Or rather, the society of 1904, though the point is just as relevant today.) and the heroic achievements of Odysseus, the protagonist of Homer's The Odyssey. Joyce's point was that it takes the same amount of heroism and effort to get through a single day now as it took for Odysseus to go through his entire ten-year-long adventure.

A while back, I realized that no longer applied to me.

Back in high school, and during my time in Vinzons, life required a lot of effort and strength on my part to survive. I had to be strong to meet the challenges of everyday life. Odysseus hadn't faced anything like that. But now? Odysseus is light years ahead of me. It takes very little for me to get through a normal day now. The amount of activity and effort in my life has tailed off dramatically.

I understand that when I start classes in June, that will change to some extent. Accounting. A normal day will still not be that big of a challenge to get through.

One might say that this is ultimately the biggest letdown there is. I will admit, I had high expectations for college after the hell of high school. So far, college hasn't met them. I have a complete lack of stimulation and it takes no heroism or anything for me to get through it. It's just more proof that life tends to be anticlimactic rather than climactic. There are no big heroic showdowns in real life. Things just fade away. Even the universe itself follows this pattern. The largest amount of energy in the universe was expended at the very beginning. As time goes on, the amount of activity will decrease, getting asymptotically close to zero. It won't reach zero for a vast amount of time. When it does, that's the heat death of the universe. No energy, just stillness and vacuum. Likewise, most of my life's effort and stress occurred in the early parts of it. Now, at least for the next few years, it'll get close to zero. At least for the short-term future. When I'm 30 or 40, who the hell knows. Maybe life will revert to the stress levels of Manila and Vinzons.

But overall, life definitely uses up all the energy in the early years. I don't know if it is like this innately, or if it just seems that way to me because as I get older I become better equipped to deal with it. Regardless, the result is the same. Life is just an explosion at first, followed by static.

I still haven't decided if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Ugh-SLEEP

2010-01-20T22:38:00.000+08:00

I'm rather troubled about my sleeping habits. I cant seem to rectify them. I suppose it would appear that its mostly my own fault, as I don't actually TRY to sleep when I deem appropriate, but its so ~~damn difficult~~. If I were to lie down and try to sleep it wouldn't make a difference, Id just lie there for a few hours. I feel bad... Its screwing things up tremendously, I need to get this under control...

Ugh, I can't sleep. Whomever said to count sheep is a fool. Do you realize how hard it is to fit lots of sheep in a tiny apartment?

It Rained the Night I Died

2010-01-16T19:35:00.002+08:00

"It rained the night I died, in typical January drear, ironically heralding my end with a dark drizzle that would bring the scintillating spires of spring. I passed before the tendrils of my exhale could vanish, the final mortal remnants of my existence dissipating with the haze. I died knowing I would not wake to see snowcaps, the lordly imposition of algor's artisanal kiss, or the final wisps of a storm pass. "

-Um, don't know where I'm going with this. I suck at writing x infinity squared. But I feel as if something within me is gone, like I'm missing some vital component. I don't want to die, but I feel as if I'm already dead.

Perfection Holds No Torch To Thy Splendor

2010-01-12T19:58:00.007+08:00

Ah dearest, thou heaven of flesh bound valley and ridge, you are a blink of a dream still visible with eyes open wide, a portrait of the sun and the shade. Forged ethereal and manifested divine, unfittingly amid the likes of heartbeats and lies... let not mortal woe dictate thee.

Made in mere Genesis betwixt a fortnight's half, Earth served as a draft, and God did then move on to greater endeavors with terrestrial opulence as blueprint. Seemingly a dream with sky for eyes, sunbeam hair, and starlight stare insubstantial and great, but with hills for hips and rose for lips you're all too tangible. God spent the better part of forever creating thee, with cosmos first designed with trial and lessons learned, the benefactor your grace. Perfection holds no torch to thy splendor; perfection's faults omitted thy face.

So as you stood before your creator's contentment, the recipient of undivided eons of attention... knowing you were fairest of all bestowed, God gave thee dissatisfaction, knowing that a being so great with knowledge of such would rival him to defeat. So, pawn of God, belittled in a sculptor's fear... take heed of thy entitlement and laugh it away with tears... all of firmament is yours.

-it's been half a year, and I'm loving you more and more :)

Ever evolving Ambitions :)

2010-01-04T20:22:00.005+08:00

May I begin with saying that new years resolutions are a sham. If you need new years as a reason to implement change, then its probably not going to happen. What a tenuous fucking reason to do something. That being said, I will not make any new years resolutions. I do however have positive ambitions that are ever evolving, and yes, some do come to mind on new years eve. They have nothing to do with achievement, but rather, fulfillment.

Im going to smile more. Im going to take more afternoon walks along the beach. Im going to spend less time online. I am going to pour myself into my endeavors. I will learn how to swim and speak French.

My life is just naturally on an incline now. Not in a strenuous sense, but rather evolving positively without much thought or effort. Its been like this for some time now. My success has come along with this incline instead of me having to make a concerted effort to achieve it. Success is continuous, not an end, and is only possible once all negative inhibitions are forgotten. One can have all the success and fortune in the world but if its not viewed as such it cant be enjoyed.

I do have a lot of things I need to accomplish, and have needed to for a while, but for some reason they dont seem as daunting anymore. I admittedly still have a long way to go, but I now realize the journey is something to cherish rather than resent. Im not where I want to eventually be, but where I am isnt particularly bad.

Things are good, they will continue to get better, and I will get to where I need to be.

A Return to Form

2009-12-29T21:07:00.000+08:00

Something has been on my mind lately. I've been thinking about the trends that wafted over the year 2009 like a Taco Bell-inspired fart. One question has come to my mind. Which of the following fads of 2009 was the worst?

Twilight/New Moon
High School Musical
The Jonas Brothers
Miley Cyrus

All four have arguments in favor of them being the most pitiful. It is also worth pointing out that of the four listed, Twilight is the only one that didn't originate with Disney. I have to admit, I'm coming to despise all things Disney. Whether its their older cartoon with more racism than the combined works of A. Wyatt Mann or their new TV crap that tries to pack enough wholesomeness and family garbage to destroy the rebelliousness of an entire generation of kids, Disney has to be worst the thing to happen to humanity since the Khmer Rouge.

Anyway, with that out of the way, time for an update about my life.

I'm now stepping on the lands of sweet pilgrims, my oh, my Bicol! On the 27th the class had a shindig at my place and it was a blast. Nothing would be a better post Christmas celebration than it, but then I can't fully extenuate on that matter for my head is killing me. (Gaa.. I need an aspirin!) I'd spent my days here by going out for lunches and dinners, having walks along the roads of the small town Daet and sharing my time and thoughts with HIM. Other than that, things have been quiet. Considering it's just a couple of days before classes start at UST, I imagine the next few weeks will drag on worse. And since I'm sick of writing this, I'm going to kill it right here and now.

HAPPY WINTER SOLSTICE

2009-12-21T23:04:00.004+08:00

A few quick updates:

1. The paskuhan kicked my ass. :( It sucks. So, if you have the misfortune of being one of my friends (aaand I thank you) DON'T ASK ME ABOUT PASKUHAN. OK, thanks, I'll heart you for it.

2. So there's this man, he's amazing x infinity squared. Yeah, the one practically my ENTIRE blog has been about for the past couple of months... I love him. He told me HE'S MINE and I ABOUT died of happiness. In fact, check my pulse because I think I may have. Yeah. So as soon as I get back home I will be writing tooons on this. If you can't wait for the blog, be sure to ask me who B**** is, so I can gush and rave.

3. Speaking of going home... my trip gets into Vinzons at 10:45 on Saturday!!! OMG I can't wait... 28 degree weather with windchill is NOT ok. I heard it's going to be in the mid 30's and I'm THIS excited. Manila is pretty... but redneck-y and cold and unfamiliar. Get me home! Of course I'm sort of sad that I won't return to Manila 'till next year, but really... no. I need to get away from this for a bit. The only drawback? I'm farther away from my mum. But it's ok. Chaa... you're crazy if you do and I will smack you with my pillow for thinking such thoughts. Hard. Like gonna give you a concussion hard. :)

4. Did I mention I love B****? Anyway, happy Winter Solstice! Mmmhmm celebrate! so yayness. Lol and also, happy holidays, stay safe, have fun, and don't do anything I wouldn't do... which is like saying feel free to do any concievable outrageous thing. :) That's about it. P.S. I'm sorry haven't been home as soon as you had expected. I'll get on that this weekend, promise. <3

Let Thyself Love (for it is the greatest thing)

2009-11-29T18:47:00.005+08:00

Oh worthiest of love, do not decry it! Nigh suffice, our mortal vice, and thou divinity amongst us doth suffer... but there is love amidst the rubble deserving of thee. There is a blossom from 'tween stone and dust emerged, azure as your eyes to compliment. There is fay amid the remnants once betrayed and scorned, both in toppled haven and thy heart. For withal God sent means for an angel to live if here yourself do find. Spirit begs exaltation, skin cries for caress, and mind bids otherwise though you mayn't deny you need be loved. Anguish betwixt whence thy came and ardor abroad, that which seemingly renders red lips cold with infinite abstinence doth make the nectar sweeter. Would rather you drink ambrosia sick to over indulgent taste or once know its glory incomparable if only a second? Time tarnishes, limit is savored. Quest dearest, quest, a beacon to match exists, and there lies satiation for thy soul ethereal! It yearns for thee, fervent in thy absence. Keen of your grace, thy fulfillment its purpose... it waits. Look not for an equal on this earth lest you be met with emptiness, rather, open thyself to chance, accept love, refrain from limit... you will find that which you seek if you fear not never finding it.

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return! -Christian, Moulin Rouge

Indomitable Trepidation

2009-11-11T18:59:00.007+08:00

Sucks to be me, eh?

In a nutshell:

1.) I'm heading back to Manila tonight and starting the process of a new study habit. I must ace all of my academic subject no matter what.

2.) I love him, and sadness is knocking at my door again. I’m gonna miss him like hell. DILEMMA.

3.) 1= causing my own demise because I am afraid of failure. I'm afraid of fucking up next semester, so I'm taking it off. I'm not convinced of my academic ability... which is ridiculous and unfounded but that's the way I view things so that's what I'm forced to deal with.

I need to rectify a million things in my life before I can succeed as a student; hopefully my impending semester will allow me to. It would be nice, just this time, to be able to believe in myself.

We'll I'm Back

2009-11-10T19:23:00.026+08:00

What a vacation! Seventeen days of sweet memories and seeing the sights of Vinzons,Talisay and Daet. And the title is the very last line from Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (If you don't count the nine million appendixes.)

Making an entry where I discuss everything that had happened in these three WONDERFUL places would probably overload blogger’s servers, so I won't bother. Here's a short list of what happened:

I partied with several high school friends on Garden View. Twice.
I read A Charge to Keep by G.W. Bush during my nights in Vinzons.
I walked through towns with Ian and my dearest, Brian.
I bought a tampipi, a native bag, delicacies, two Daet printed T-shirts for my college buddy, a letter opener and a cross for my mom.
I nearly fell asleep during one of my friend’s party. Literally.
I also slept while listening to my iPod at least twice, and on the night bus after dancing for an hour.
I saw my teachers in high school playing farmville.
I went to the beach with Brian as often as possible (made my skin tan!).
I saw magnificent lights on a bridge which was merely done for propaganda.
Brian and I ate a whole leche flan just because we crave for it. Yum, yum.
I packed 10 days worth of clothes in a suitcase the size of large pillow.
I ran and biked every morning and afternoon (I’m becoming one of those adrenaline buffs).
I spent more time going out rather than staying home.
I decided to spend my Christmas here again, no matter what. NOBODY can STOP me.
John Mayer and Michael Bubble started my days.
I drove a car.
I got paranoid over 2012.
I watched a movie with Brian, thrice.
I slept on a mattress on a floor during my second day in Vinzons.
I slept for 15 hours once I got back home.
I took almost 300 pictures.
I didn't call my parents once the first three days I was in Bicol. I did email them once though.
I learned from an aunt that there was a fraud in the Municipality of Talisay and CNSC.
I said the Lord's Prayer inside St. Paul's Church.
I went to the coolest place ever! It’s so quite and peaceful, and the BEST part is I’m with my dearest.
I listened to Mikee’s constant complain about VPES.
I told the most disgusting joke imaginable. (An older couple lay in bed, and the man, as he has done for the past 40 years, farts loudly. The woman turns over and looks at him and says, "One day you are going to fart your guts out." He nonchalantly responds, "Nah". Thanksgiving morning, only a few days later, the woman gets up early to start the dinner for that evenings festivities. As she cleans the turkey a thought pops into her head. Still holding the turkey giblets she runs into their bedroom where her husband is still sleeping. She gently pushes the contents of her hand into the back of her husbands underwear, then returns back to the kitchen to finish the preparations. A few moments later she hears the usual morning fart, then a loud thump, footsteps running down the hall, and the bathroom door slamming. She does nothing but smile knowingly, and waits for her husband to come into the kitchen. Not long after he enters, he looks at his wife and says, "Honey, you were right, I farted my guts out, but by the grace of God and these two fingers I got em shoved back up in there.")
I had the most romantic and special memories during my stay. The sunset was just so breathtaking.

my 17 days. one word. PERFECT

Weekend Salvation?

2009-11-06T18:10:00.001+08:00

I need some interaction, seriously. And lucky for me (I suppose) had been an interesting vacation. Jerusa’s and Janine's birthday was on my list, but as the rules of midweek drudgery go, Friday’s are a blasphemous time to squander birthday celebrations (and there came a typhoon that night). So by Saturday it appeared that we attended Janine's 7pm b-day shindig followed by a much needed get together with old HS friends. Being with them once again made me realize one thing, our friendships are UNDEFEATABLE. I miss the laughs we had, the talks, the petty quarrels… I missed them all. By Sunday I had spend some downtime catching up with Fatima, and the remaining days (actually everyday I had) will be solely for my dearest.

I can say I'm in a completely social mood this semestral break compared last year. But still I managed to give myself some time to contemplate spending time engrossed in a book, or my walks with Brian at the beach seem far more appealing than say, ANOTHER trip to 31 flavors. I can't explain the state of mind I'm in, but I do like to be with him all the time, elated, physically energetic, blissful... it's a haven.

Folks, I'm comin Home

2009-10-23T08:53:00.005+08:00

To do list as of 10/23/09:

-Pack & clean my dorm

-Catch a shuttle to Laguna @ 2:30pm

-Spend some time w/ Mom

1 MSG RECEIVED:
PIMENTEL, TITO LEONEL: prepare ka na, susunduin kita this pm.

Tada! VINZONS! I’ll be comin’ home J Forget my to do list, for I’m heading to a BIGGER one.

Blah, this is going to be a busy day, but by 4pm pack time I'll be home!!! Farewell Manila! Lovely as you are, cold fall nights are not my idea of desirable weather. I mean really now... I don't think I've ever seen it get below 30 at its coldest in Bicol, and that's the kind of climate I like to call home.

I've found the recent solitude of the past two and a half months to be rather oppressive and disheartening. And I WAS doing well in my classes, but as of late it seems in a very crucial class I can never get anything above a 1.25 at best, and the usual marks I get are definitely in the 2.5 and 1.5 zone. That's unfortunate. I hope I can handle accountancy without any major distractions, so it's best I bow out while I still can and make a glorious return come next semester. It's for the best I suppose, and as much as I complain about my tribulations here in UST, I'm going to miss it. Of course, none of the previous statements are cemented yet, but I'm just saying it seems otherwise.

My newest short story after “Pious Debauchery” isn't writing itself at the pace I had hoped, and certainly not at the velocity I wrote the first, but the quality is much better. I wish I hadn't deleted the first; there were some phrasings I really wish I could recall. All of the ideas expressed in the firsthaven't been lost, but I feel like somehow the second version isn't quite matching the eloquence of the first.Ah well, we'll just have to see. My other two pieces are coming along quite well though, so I guess I'm not completely sucking at life.

Quick side notes:

-The right side of my jaw- right at the joint- feels somewhat broken and has been the cause for much discomfort lately. Not that's just a damn shame eh? Life is just peachy. *but my dentist just assured me t’was due to the elastic bands, guess I don’t need to worry much.

-I love him. I love him more than he'd like to acknowledge. I love him more than even I can fathom. Seeing him again lifts my feet off the ground.

Good morning!

"I wouldn't want to stay here, it's too old and cold andsettled in its ways here. But Bicol, oh babyI'm a comin' home. I'm gonna see the folks I dig, I'lleven kiss a sunset pig, baby I'm coming home"

Sooner or Later

2009-10-20T19:40:00.001+08:00

Sometimes I think that I'd rather not be alive, that I can't tolerate the deleterious nature of existence and my reluctant participation. Its not that I lack something to live for, or a have a particular justification for harboring such sentiments... I just find that indifference and cruelty are insurmountable. Change isn't possible when such torturous injustice goes unnoticed, and comfort is synonymous with perniciousness. I can imagine there was a time when benign was amiable and harmless, a commodity that could be sought from the realm of justness, but I find that even the smallest comfort comes at the expense of something else, and that incongruous malignancy lashes out from even the most sacred of sources. I love what I have to live for, but I resign, guilty as the rest. I would rather die than live another day in agreement with such a vile society.

Why yes, I would like cheese with my whine.

2009-10-15T01:57:00.000+08:00

This past days so kicked the fuck out of me. It was uneventful but somehow took it's toll. Tuesday I had to get up at 5 am after only two hours of sleep, and for some reason couldn't manage to knock out until 2 am the next morning. I knew I had a group meeting Wednesday in the am, but I forgot it was changed from noon to ten, so imagine my surprise when I was jolted out of sleep by a text asking "are you at the library yet?" I bathed, put on a sando, brushed my teeth, and went in my jumpies (jumpsuit). I got there thirty minutes late. Definitely not my idea of a pleasant Wednesday morning. It was a productive meeting nonetheless and I managed to snag the duty of writing the group paper, which I'm stoked about. I'm anal retentive when it comes to academic writing, and it kills me to have my name on something poorly written. I'm kind of pissed no one bothered to write down the websites they got their info from though. It's going to make the citations and a bitch. Ah well, at least I can rest easy about the quality of the paper.

On Saturday and Sunday I had a ton of work due: six sections of math activities plus the chapter test, and an accounting quiz plus a monologue. I got all but the last part done, which is fine, because I'm getting a B in that class regardless. The accounting class went less favorably and I'm stressing about it.

I'm trying to relax as much as I can, because worrying accomplishes nothing, but even when I'm focused on other tasks I have this weird underlying anxiety. It's like when you know you're forgetting something you have to do, but can't think of it, so you're waiting for that "ah fuck" moment when it all comes to light and you have to deal with it after it can't be rectified. Yeahhh. I think tonight I'm going to get a ton of coffe, watch some funny DVDs, and lose myself in the decadence of guilty pleasure/nothingness. Haha wow I'm so lame. But whatever, it makes me feel better.

For My Dearest

2009-10-12T23:29:00.004+08:00

Loving you is neither an earthly compulsion nor a physical desire, but rather a spiritual need, an endeavor dictated by my heart and soul rather than my mind and appetite. My love for you is something that transcends aesthetics and actions, and thus, my love cannot be ephemeral. I love you for your soul, I love you for the depth in your eyes, I love you for the freedom your love gives me, to love and be loved. My love for you is unconditional and is constricted by neither space nor time. Loving you was plaited into my soul, as inherent and necessary as breathing and the beating of my heart. In your eyes I find the answers to all of life's questions, in you I've found completion.

Your everything to me baby, today's our 3rd, we have more months and years ahead of us <3

It'd make GREAT television

2009-09-10T19:31:00.001+08:00

DEATH BY SNACKWELLS AND SOYMILK!!! Yeah, it has crossed my mind, to try and cause my demise by eating myself to death. Or to hang myself on the arch of centuries (my school's monument, also on live webcam). Or to find a way to climb up to my school's majestic main building and jump. And one time I found myself pondering the exact decibel level my head would require to explode. Hey, death by Coheed and Cambria sounds pretty damn tantalizing sometimes. Really.

I fantasize about my death a lot (well just at this time, my college friends are talking about this early this morning due to a stressed out night. STUDYING ACCOUNTING). Ideally I'd love to be a martyr like Che Guevarra, and die for something worthwhile. My sorrow, torment, anger, and anguish are NOT worthwhile; they're actually rather selfish. I'd love to die for a cause.

But for some reason I still find the thought of suicide unbelievably romantic and beautiful. I'd write the most eloquent of suicide notes, and make everyone that deserves it feel guilty. People would put me on a pedestal for a good week and wonder why they didn't see how fucked up the world was like I did. And they'd comment on how brilliant I was, like how I started that student peace group in HS, or how I helped the indigeneous, and always rambled on about politics and justice, brilliantly well versed and determined. "MY she was an extraordinary human being!" they'd proclaim. They'd recant how exuberant I was: "representative, so inclined in science, my she was special!" And in the afterlife I'd get some kind of vindication after being ignored, trotted on, forgotten in everyday life. Maybe.

But like I've said before, still don't have the nerve... I'm too damn curious to see how this life will play out. And really, I am absolutely enamored with someone at the moment. He makes my sun rise.

Life rarely finishes its Conversations

2009-09-06T20:07:00.002+08:00

It's 8pm and I'm up and bored. I haven't written in a while, so I figured I'd confirm that I'm still alive. Things here have been moving the same speed as ever, like a snail covered in molasses going uphill in January. I'm getting rather bored and restless. It didn't take as long as I thought for that to happen.

As I sometimes do late at night when I don't want to sleep, I started looking through my old diary entries. I've amassed over 70 entries in a year I've been writing here. It seems incredible to me that a blog I registered on a whim would still be up, I'm not really good in keeping a journal over the net. In November 2008 I doubted I'd live to see the New Year.But the past entries are interesting to read. It's a sort of snapshot into my mind at the time. By January I was angry and depressed and bitter at myself. On February I hardly wrote but was focused on home and my eventual return to my usual life. Around the first week of summer I started kicking my diary into high gear, writing about my feelings and thoughts instead of just events. I also had a religious tone to my entries. Then came my dearest vacation and finding my heart's captor. And by July every entry seemed to contain at least one reference to PEOPLE around ME. Now here we are.

It really is quite odd to read old entries about events and people who I at the time assumed would never again be a part of my life. Especially poignant are the entries I wrote during my first year in college.

Those are the pieces of my life. It often seems to me that life is quite incoherent. Events come and go, people come and go, and nothing stays the same. Events in our lives rarely seem to make sense, and the way human communication is set up people rarely gain any insight into their problems like you see in the movies. We are wired to want answers to the questions that plague us, but answers never come. Life is something that just throws things in our faces and has us deal with them. Life has surprisingly little coherency or consistency. I imagine this comes from humans' minds being very nonlinear. People think in jumbles and zigzags, not straight lines. It's something that is explored in Joyce's Ulysses, though that in itself reminds me that I haven't even touched that book in a year. Had you told me that in the spring of 2005 I'd have laughed in your face.

The question to me then is, is it our perception that causes this incoherency, or is life really the incoherent. Life doesn't want to answer the question. I've been looking back in my life and I honestly can't name a single event in my life where I had all the answers. In the movies the answers are revealed slowly and steadily, building up to a huge climax where the villain reveals the master plan. In real life, the master plan would happen and no one would ever know why it happened or who did it or anything. Reality has few answers. I read about this in another book, Stephen King's From A Buick 8. The characters in that book got no answers as to what the Buick Roadmaster was. Likewise, we often get no answers about our problems. I look back and dwell on things and wonder who was really responsible and what the motives were. I get few answers and when I do get them they are often far more mundane that I would have guessed.

This incoherency is most evident in my entries. By themselves, they are snapshots of the date I wrote them.In the bigger picture, they represent that incoherency, the idea that people would pop up years later after I'd long forgotten them or that a task I set out for would end in a way I would never have expected. Life makes no sense, and it is unrelenting in it's torturing us with the big unknowns and unknowables. Someday we may know everything, but I doubt that will happen barring a technological singularity. We humans cannot ponder far into the reaches of why and how and who. We simply take the events as they come and deal with them as best we can.

Sometimes I wish humans could communicate by telepathy. It's a wish many have asked for, but it's the type you're careful about. Humans want to know what is going on, but it almost seems that humans are not meant to learn what the answers are. There may very well be none. Chance and science dictate logic and consistency, but life has no consistency. Seeking answers in the events of life, in fate if you will, is a far different beast than finding answers in science. We may one day know the how, but the day may never come when we know why.

Then again, one never knows what the future will hold. I should know that better than anyone.

On what Politics in America has Become

2009-08-22T15:15:00.002+08:00

Rant time.

I know I normally don't write about politics much anymore. I tend to write more about my heart's captor and how my life is going. But I have to make a few statements about the low that political discourse in the US of A has reached as of late.

It started pretty much the instant Barack Obama was inaugurated. Hell, it started the second the news anchors announced he won the election. A friend of mine on Facebook was claiming that we just elected a Marxist President. Okay, a bit out there, but this is a resident of Chillicothe, and saying this town is conservative is something of an understatement. So okay, Obama is Marxist according to this guy. Well, I figured that the conservatives would be annoyed, but they'd get over it.

Actually, I imagined the Republican Party would use Obama's administration as an opportunity for some hardcore introspection into what the party has become. All through the election we had Joe the Plumber bloviating about kicking Congress' ass as if he was Chuck Norris, we had people claiming Obama was the antichrist, all that. But when Obama won, I imagined the Republican Party would realize that it was no longer the party of common sense conservatism. It had become a party of ideologues and fearmongers. Well, it was an election year. Once that ended, I imagined the GOP would hibernate and do some thinking about how it had to change to stay relevant in the 21st century.

Guess what hasn't been happening.

Since Obama was inaugurated, we've had emails showing Obama as invisible on a black screen, emails depicting the Front Lawn of the White House as a watermelon patch, numerous cases of death threats, people bringing assault rifles to town hall meetings, and now I just read a report about a woman yelling "Heil Hitler!" at a Jewish man speaking out in favor of the government's plan to create a public option for healthcare. Yep, you read that correctly. The debate reaches a new level of class.

All through this, all this talk of death panels and racism and all that, you haven't heard any conservatives finally come out and say enough. Enough of this racist, hateful, fearful insanity. Enough threatening to kill Obama. Enough guns at town hall meetings. Enough of the false claims of death panels. Well guess what. I'm a conservative, and I'm going to say what I hope a lot of conservatives have been thinking.

People, this insanity and hate needs to stop. It needs to stop, and it needs to stop now. Quit mocking Obama because he's black. Quit whining about death panels. I fully understand that people want to criticize Obama. I've made plenty of criticisms of him and his policies. But I don't go beyond criticizing his policies. I don't say I want Obama dead. I don't want him dead, although I do worry at times that some nutjob is going to take things several steps too far and try to kill him. (And if such a thing did happen, I'd be the first to condemn it.) People, all this racism and death threats and posturing isn't just immature, it isn't just lowering the level of discourse in the national debate of political policy, it's acting as a slow-motion suicide. And not of America, not of Obama, not of universal healthcare. It is a slow-motion suicide of the Republican Party, the party that you are supposedly members of, the party I still claim despite sometimes wishing I could disavow myself of it because of these very lunatics. You people are destroying your own party. The American public does not want fearmongering. They don't want threats or rage. They want an actual debate. They're sick of all the political posturing. Obama is a reasonable man, despite my issues with his being overly naive. He wants to debate and compromise with you Republicans on the issues. And all you are doing is acting like monkeys flinging feces around. Sooner or later, the people will decide that the monkeys flinging feces around aren't worth dealing with. Ba-da-bing, end of the Republican Party. To the Republicans supporting and enabling fear and hate and rage, stop. Think about what you are doing. You are slitting your own throats. I know you don't realize it, but this will only make Americans more and more disgusted with conservatism in all forms, not just the fundamentalist neo-conservatism that we've had for the past eight years.

To be honest, I'm not sure why I'm bothering. I can see the Republican Party continuing on this line of craziness. 2012 comes, and the Republican Party is either a laughingstock or completely irrelevant. But from the ashes, a party will arise of common-sense conservatism. People who want less spending. Less government intervention in people's lives. Less foreign military misadventures. Less imposing laws. Things that conservatism is truly about. And yes, that is what conservatism means, though I know eight years of Bush have greatly distorted what "conservative" means in people's minds.

Could it happen? Possibly. I'd like to have a truly conservative party again. No fundamentalists, no racist psychopaths yelling "Heil Hitler!" at Jews proposing universal healthcare, none of this psychotic posturing. I've always been a conservative at heart, and I hate seeing the Republican Party unwittingly bring itself closer to complete annihilation. It's painful to watch Sarah Palin talk about nonexistent death panels or Lou Dobbs claim Obama was born outside the US or Joe the Plumber claim he wants to beat up Nancy Pelosi. This is not conservatism. This is insanity. It needs to end. We need to go back to calm, reasonable debating of the issues at hand. No yelling, no threats, none of this. It lowers the image of the party doing it and the image of the nation in general.

My rant for today.

For Once, Forever More

2009-08-21T00:59:00.001+08:00

It has occurred to me that my life askew has been slowly rectifying itself, slowly, ever slowly, as if to imply one second of inattention will bend it back. From afar Id still appear defeated, but I am still getting to where I need to in a productive manner. I am flawed to the brink of expiring, but if one were to look closely enough, all of my past successes have emerged from just inches away from complete failure.

Though my triumphs have trumped the remembrance of all near defeats, the present is still in need of rectification. I'm not a success, I'm not a failure, I just exist, my soul unfulfilled because of lack of achievement. Resurrection at this point is difficult: the light at the end of the tunnel is yet visible, and hell fire fails to lick my heels... not like in the past when my neck to the table saw and my visible just desserts were sufficient goads. I have nothing but the promise of redemption and the fear of yet another failure to propel me from limbo.

My problem is mediocrity has always been good enough to get me by, and still currently is. In that state laziness and procrastination reign supreme and that's unacceptable. They transcend academics and taint athletics, politics, love, health, friendships, and everything else I value. I don't want barely enough to be what I coin as success. I don't want to view eking by as a victory. I want to be diligent, driven, focused, and unwavering... I want to achieve my full potential for once, forever more.

**the radio's on, and it's jiving with my entry for tonight, ~~Miley Cyrus'~~ The Climb

(can't get over with the accounting quiz earlier, driving me nuts)

Peanuts

2009-08-06T21:54:00.001+08:00

So, I think I might have so just lost it. It's the last week of the first half semester and next week is prelims week so my workload has been insane. Not too fun. Anyway, this morning my alarm goes off at 6:30 cause I have class at 7, and needless to say I wasn't too pleased. I had gotten about two hours of sleep, and I think I might have short circuited or something, cause I look over to my personal assistant- who's sitting on her bed putting fixing my things- and I go "Peaaanuuutsss. Haha peanuts." And I start jumping on my bed going "Peanuts, Peanuts, Peanuts!" And she gives me this look like "What in the hell is going on?" Understandably, I don't think even I knew what was going on. It made me feel loads better though so whatever. Gotta love the randomness.

I'm sitting here making plastic balloons with a straw and industrial goop. I swear I'm high from the fumes. Well, either that or I'm just slap happy, cause I'm way giggly. I'm munching on uncooked ramen and it's nummy. I just mixed my cocoa with chopsticks. All of the aforementioned speak of a ridiculously uncultured college student. I kinda like it, but then again, no, not really. I'm odd. I'm bouncing in my chair to the Epoxies and I'm half hoping one of my friends will walk in and be like "What... the... fuck." It's such a fun song, "Stop looking at me"... with seriously spiffy lyrics like "cause I don't know what to do, I'm coming all unglued, scaring myself on cue, why am I so uncool?" Haha, it makes me happy. Synth new wave rocks.

I wish I was cool enough to dance like the chick I saw earlier, totally. I don't have class until 6:00pm tomorrow so I'm looking forward to a late night, all by myself with the Epoxies. Sweetness.

Civilization and Nothing Less than an Epic

2009-08-02T14:31:00.001+08:00

Civilized, decent people treat others with kindness and don't constantly lie and cheat and steal things from other people, let alone their own family members. These are not civilized people. They are barely even people at all. Any compassion I had for types like this is gone. They are trash, plain and simple, and I hold out no hope that they will ever improve their lot in life.. People with that many issues will only drag down anyone else that gets involved with them.

I've learned this with other people. Never let someone with more problems than you get involved in your life, because they will only become one of your problems. It's uncompassionate to disown someone because they have so many problems, but sometimes you just have learn that some people are beyond hope. I give my friends chances to improve their lives. If they do improve their lives and solve their own problems, good, I'll be happy for them and give them my full support. But if they don't solve their problems, if they refuse to admit they have problems, if they perpetuate their problems, if they make the same damn mistake over and over and over, then I lose patience. I've seen this in so many people. Any man that acts that coldly toward a suicidal woman is a piece of shit, no two ways about it. No decent human being would act that way, and if someone acts that way, they no longer qualify as a decent human being. It's that simple.I know I'm doing a lot of ranting in this entry, but this latest drama bomb has me amazed at the sheer derangement of the people we have to associate with. I thought I'd heard it all before, but this shocked even me. I am not shocked easily, but this did it. This is a "wow. just wow" moment for me.

The longer I go on, the less faith I have in humanity. If this is what the average person is like, then we truly are sorry lot indeed.

---------------NOTHING LESS THAN AN EPIC (STUDY UPDATE)---------------

It took five 24oz energy drinks and a near all nighter, but I pulled off the impossible: I waited until the day of the final to crack open my book, read the required 5 chapters, and study... I have until midnight Sunday to finish my remaining quizzes and homework, which I have thus far been acing, so I'm thoroughly set. I should pull an 1 in this class. I so kick ass, it's ridiculous. Well as far as accounting is concerned. I just need to get my last bullshit Social Dance classes out of the way and my Humanities and Literature will without a doubt be a straight shot. No more meandering. I'm exceedingly capable in mychosen areas of study, and now have the test taking/study skills and diligence toget through college and law school. I'm not saying it'll be a cake walk, because it won't be, Im just stating I know I can do it. I'm well suited for higher education, it just took me a good while to get motivated and get a handle on my learning disability in math. It's been hindering me, but it'll soon be a thing of the past. It took a lot for me to confront it, and I still have a daunting fight ahead of me, but I'm nearing the tail end of this nightmare and can't wait to move on to what I'm good at. I've hated having to contend with the "disability" label, like I'm a fucking retard, so I can't wait to get on a level playing field, where I'm judged solely on my terms.

From the Depths of My Soul

2009-07-12T16:05:00.002+08:00

It seems as if I am wholly possessed with his magnificence. Every spare idle moment, I find myself writing of he... I can't fully express this when he is around. *hope you'll find this entry

"You know you're my heart"

Are you aware you are the reason my heart chooses to beat? The reason my sun rises and sets? That you are in fact the sun I so live for? As my life was once perfunctory and dull, an irrepressible darkness, my life now shines with the iridescence and warmth of a high noon Sahara sun. You are the reason my blood pulsates through my veins, and heats my body thus... my life force, my life

Your breath is a laurel of this age, your word the song of the centuries. King of my heart, captain of my soul, how may I even begin to describe thee? Owner of the cosmos, keeper of heaven... when all you encompass is divinity, what words may do you justice? Even if I could take the sun and the moon, the ocean and stars and create a word for its artistry, it still would not be suffice of thy beauty. I sit in stunned silence...

Let me love you to the greatest extent of my capabilities. Let me show you the magnitude of my affection. Tell me how many stars are in the sky, show me how many diamonds in your eyes, and I promise I love you more. I love you as good loves the light, constant as day turns to night. There is no variation in my love, I love without doubt or questions or wonder. You are the soil from which I gain my strength, the stream that grants me ardour.

i love you <3

You Can't Quite Climb Heaven Alone

2009-06-29T13:06:00.001+08:00

Everyone needs to stop saying "rely on only yourself because everyone will let you down." We were put on this earth with 6 billion other people for a reason, because really, what is life when all you truly have is yourself? How lonely and unfulfilling is that? We were put here to love, and that is rarely a singular action. Of course we must first and foremost love ourselves, but love is rather empty without a recipient. We were put here to GIVE every bit of ourselves to those we cherish because they do the same for us.

Would you like to be able to claim that you stand alone in bitter self sufficiency, boasting never having been let down by anyone as your only solace, or rather, would you like to be able to say that you put every ounce of faith into someone knowing full well that you could be let down, and you FELT how sweet it was to have someone cradle you and be the sole proprietor of your happiness? To know that is bliss, and it could end in a second, I won't deny that, life is strewn with tears... but wouldn't you rather have known for a single breathtaking second what love is than never knowing how sweet life can be? The price for that might be the pain of having true happiness only to watch it slip away, but at least you got to taste love.

And when we fall, we fall hard. Life is bittersweet by default because to know euphoria we have to experience the most harrowing of sorrows, but that's what makes life what it is. You spend a lifetime building a fragile web of family, a net of compassion and love to fall back on when life lets you down, when YOU LET YOURSELF DOWN, because let's face it, more often than not we fail ourselves more so than others. And you know what, that delicate web can break at any given moment, but I would rather live knowing I have that to fallback on than nothing at all. We always assume people will let us down, from the start we believe that we are doomed. Who's to say we aren't? But I would rather believe we are destined for goodness, that I won?t be let down. People are imperfect by design, but we should assume the best, because in doing so we propagate an indelible positivity that's destined to bring out the best in us.

I will do my best to never let you down; I would never intentionally let you fall. I can't promise I won't ever drop you, we mortals are incapable of making such infallible statements, but I will always be there to pick you up, ALWAYS. We shall live in exquisite pain, but we will always have an open hand extended to us when we are battered on the floor... on our last breath. I have put all of my faith in that notion and I refuse to live a loveless life, a living DEATH of despondency and loneliness? because you quite can't climb to heaven alone.

I Shouldn't be Up by 9:00am

2009-06-26T14:29:00.004+08:00

...But I was having the weirdest of thoughts in my dream, and as my bladder woke me up at this ungodly hour I figured I might as well jot it down. At least it wasn't another Daniel Radcliffe dream.

Ere I was born my fate was written in the stars, each breath preordained and calculated to fit ever so precisely in this orchestrated chaos we call existence. And yet I trek forward as if my failures aren't already impending, as if my success may ever be my own. What I choose or choose not to do is already chosen, either choice I make is what is to be before I even contemplate it. At any given moment, any given decision has already been allotted for. Whether I determine I shall from this point on spend the rest of my life doing absolutely nothing, or work harder than I ever have, fate already knows my plans, my spontaneity is just choreographed to make it seem as such, though I live my prearranged life as diligent as a train follows tracks.

But what exactly is the purpose of my cog? And perhaps I am not even that, maybe I am one of but a series of teeth on a cog, or a spec of sand grinding it to a halt. What is my insignificance doing for the entire scheme of things? I'm not smart nor stupid, beautiful or ugly... I just exist in the nether realm of mediocrity and simplicity. How is my woefully average presence making a difference in the slightest? Or was it by design that I do absolutely nothing for society, that I just schlep along from one day to the next merely to fill space, not really of any worth whatsoever? And if I had not been born? What of it, I doubt it would make the tiniest of altercations to what life has come to be with me in it. Maybe some people are just meant to be nothing, no one, to everyone but themselves?

And I'm spent. I have no idea what to make of any of that rambling. I just needed to get that crap off of my chest to be able to go back to bed. But too bad, Jackson's death left me watching CNN for hours.

MICHAEL JACKSON, THOUGH I DIDN'T LIKE YOUR NOSE, YOU HAD TO HAVE BEEN THE COOLEST GUY TO HIT THE POP SCENE. FROM ABC'S TO THRILLER YOU HIT THE TOP! REST IN PEACE KING OF POP. YOU WILL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN YOU'VE BEATEN THE BEATTLES AND EVEN ELVIS PRESLEY.

The World doesn't Care

2009-06-16T21:34:00.001+08:00

Lately I've noticed something unusual about me. I just had a long talk with my mom over this. I've been getting more apathetic to the world lately. Not a hatred, just a lack of interest. I just don't really care about how things are going in the world. The biggest change has been in politics. I still hold some political opinions, like being generally pro-government (except for con-ass, charter change, in case you're curious), but I don't mind or care if someone disagrees. Reading pro-choice literature used to infuriate me, now I just think "oh well". Maybe I'm just becoming more open to other people's opinions. Oh no, someone doesn't think of an issue the same way I do, whatever shall I do!

One of the reasons for this apathy is realizing that there's not a whole lot I can do to affect the world, for good or for ill. I do believe that a person has the right to choose how much or little they want to accomplish all day. If they want to be really productive, that's their right. If they want to sleep until noon, then play DOTA all day, again, that is their right. Take for example, starving kids in Somalia. They need food. I have food. However, I can't teleport them my food. Nor can I donate money, since their government would take most of it. And not eating my food myself doesn't help them any. Basically I've realized I simply can't help them, so I just become indifferent to them.

Also, another reason why I like this is because it's rather hard to be angry over something you don't care about. I learned this from Lowtax, the guy who runs somethingawful.com. Recently, he posted an email from a furry who told Lowtax off and them said he put Lowtax on his block list. A few months ago, I would have made a new email account just to reply. But Lowtax didn't seem to care at all. "Oh no, some furry has set it up so that he emails me and I can't reply back?" Didn't bother him. Flames to him are like water off a goose's back. I've been becoming more like that. Now, if someone flamed me for whatever reason, I'd probably reply with "what" or "?" or "lol", or not even reply at all. Ironically, this response would probably be far more infuriating and frustrating than a long, whiny reply talking about how their mother is a whore.

My mom said it was because I had mellowed out a lot. I used to be real intense, all-or-nothing about the world. Now, I'm wholly indifferent to it. I think the true challenge of this attitude is to keep it and still be happy. It's easy to not care about the world and be depressed, but I've resigned myself that I don't need to care about a world that does not care about me, and yet, I will still be a happy person, and still be able to love and cherish people.

That's my philosophy. The world doesn't care about me. Why should I care about it?

My Heart's Newest Captor

2009-06-14T15:53:00.003+08:00

There is a man who recants his vulnerability with surprising candor. He tells of his self destructiveness unabashedly, and pours his profound divulgences into me like my glass is empty. And I did the same, I was impelled to do the same... he is compelling. He uses endearments liberally, nonchalantly, and fails to take note of the palpitation of my heart when he does so. His diction is innocently enchanting, especially when he speaks in reference to his fears or his interests. His speech just flows, heavy ridden with contemplation and hesitance, but audible nonetheless, clear as a clarion. He shows me parts of himself, distinguished but separate, so as to not reveal his entire being, as if he has something to fear in me. I promise my demons are worse than him. With odes inscribed with my blood, and scars that are still discernable against my skin, she has nothing to fear. Shall I give him the pieces to my soul so that he may see for himself, piece them together in their simplicity? Should I give him my heart in addition? Might as well, he only need to wait but it's his. I stand here whole and in plain sight, I hide nothing, what I am composed of is unmistakable. But the conclusion must be his own; we see what we want to see. I couldn't ever have an inkling of what I am in his eyes, so is it wrong for me to see my future in those exact irises I cannot decipher?

He is quite lovely, quite young, but his naivety is pure and just, not ignorant. His words are soft and doubting, clear but restrained. He refuses to admit he is worthy of adulation. He is gracious, but says thank you as if I shouldn't have given him the gift of a compliment.With curly hair, and golden-brown eyes, he's my temptress, my prince. His sapphire stare a testament of his piety and capricious charm. Ah why must I fall prey to thy statuesque refinement?! The allure lies within his eloquence, his voice a soft flowing ribbon tying tightly 'round my heart. Leash-bound I mayn't shake his articulate musings, his pensive contemplations... he is everything my mind has conceived as my beloved, he is perfect. I shall return to thee love, a mere day separating what will begin to be. My heart aches with anticipation...

i had fallen <3

Divided

2009-05-26T23:35:00.000+08:00

I have come to realize I am divided: divided in soul, divided in mind, divided in heart. Beyond multifaceted, I am a multi being. The various aspects of myself separated because of the ferocity of my emotions. I am young, I am callow, I am incapable of encompassing my many sentiments within a conceptual image of singular self. So for my many endeavors I have created different personas. When I am one, I am only one. I am wholly consumed with the tasks at hand, I pay little heed to anything else... you may know one of me but I doubt any know all. I range from sanguinary to overly compassionate, but there are only polar opposites, no compromises or moderation. But tremble in thought of the day when I unite to become one...

THE END IS THE BEGINNING

2009-05-24T23:31:00.003+08:00

Things have been lost; endeavors have ended, not only in reference to my freshman year at UNIVERSITY OF SANTO TOMAS, but in life and love as well. So as it stands I have definitely passed my first year! Excellent. Redemption wasn't quite as sweet as I had imagined it would be, but it feels good to know I still have three wonderfully difficult years ahead of me here. I've done a lot of soul searching, I've scared myself to death, I've lost a lot of blood, but I've found peace for the most part. Here are some random epiphanies, and as trivial as they may sound, it took a lot of digging and anguish to finally realize these things:

-I wasn't so much in love as I was in love with being in love. Make sense? Meaning I found the musings of love far more fulfilling than say the person I so devoted myself to. Not to say I didn't mean what I said, or I didn't love, it just wasn't for the reasons I had originally fathomed. Let's simply refer to it as an inherent attraction. I suppose I really just needed somewhere to put my aimless love.

-Academically I was so afraid of trying something new and failing that I didn't try.

-I was far too emotional/ill to have expected to have a great summer class. My demise didn't speak of my ability, but rather my inability to acknowledge that I could fail when the odds were largely stacked against me(but who cares, I PASSED).

It really has been a difficult school year for me, far more testing than any other. Yet I rose from the ashes of adversity and defeat (God, I am so fucking self indulgent & cliche when it comes to metaphors). I am the phoenix, and thus, in June, right as I head off for year two of UST, I will get myself a new iPod.

I think my life is back on track now...

The Face Plant

2009-05-24T21:14:00.002+08:00

Haha, I just had to share how much of a complete fucking RETARD I am. Here's some advice: DON'T RUN IN THE HOUSE!!! I learned the hard way. So for some reason I deemed it necessary to run in the hallway, and subsequently I tripped on a rug, completely missed the four stairs that lead down to the foyer and did a nice little face plant. The result? Heh, rug burn on my face around my left eye, a bleeding right middle finger (which is now partially BLACK), and a fucked up neck. Mmmhmm, fun times, probably came thisclose to breaking my god damn neck, which would have sucked because I'd rather slowly slit my throat than be paralyzed. Wheeeeee, what an excellent Sunday night, and it didn't end there. After my little hallway fiasco I went out for ice cream with Christopher which was, quaint, a little mundane, but overall enjoyable. Then we hit the seaside for a stroll and after that we went to the hospital hill and chatted for like an hour. Well, now that was a WASTE. I mean, like the guy, he's very nice, quite honorable, and a friend of mine, but GOD DAMN that was torture. Ah well, that was my night, face plant to ice cream to WASTE.

Cicada's song, my ritual.

2009-05-23T20:03:00.003+08:00

Pressing play, Cicada's Song begins to thunder in my ears...

I stand at the base of the hospital hill, somber, sullen, angry, its steep incline imposed before my humble body. Everything that has made me feel inadequate, insecure, insufficient, sub par, worthless; all the little things that make my blood boil... every ounce of hate encompassed within my bones comes to mind. Like the urge to kill myself and everything that has caused me pain overtaking my soul, but far more volatile. I want to cry, scream, punch... and then I just go, sprinting up this massive hill, 5 LONG (probably equal to 8), arduous blocks. Halfway up my body wants to quit, trenchant pains afflicting my ribs and shoulders, my legs reduced to rubber, breath a precious commodity in short supply... a torture in itself for sure, and a punishment adequate for the person I so vehemently despise, myself. As I reach the apex I crumble, my last steps reduced to a pitiful stumble to my knees. My stomach heaves, disgorging what little acid it contains onto the overgrown brush. A champion on her knees, the disturbing tableau of my life for the entire city to see. I lie on the sidewalk yet touch the sky, the city a vast spectacle of lights and promises below me. I don't know what I'm trying to achieve, though I relish the pain I cause myself. I am rendered inanimate and exhausted, pain gone but anger ever more blinding... like growing my irascibility in neat rows for harvest. I'm forging my armor, sharpening my weapons. When healthy in body, I'm healthy in mind, and I intend for heads to roll in my wake come august. This is a time of penance and deprivation. The more pain I endure, the stronger I shall become... I will not be defeated.

Listen to "Cicada's song".

Hear my bane.

"Cicada's Song" by Autopilot off

Tonight I have decided that
there's only one way out
And I tried so hard to fight it,
but the blame kept coming down
Nowhere to hide...

You were always way too strong
Out in the night...
As cicadas sing their song
Tell me, are you listening?
Cause no one hears a thing

Tonight I have decided that
there's only one way out!
And I tried so hard to fight it,
but the blame kept coming down

And I've got a torrid story,
but there's no-one I can tell
I don't know if there's a Heaven,
but I'm sure that there's a Hell

I feel the knife...
Like the first time breathing in
Come to life...
Like we'll never be again

Tell me, are you listening?
Cause no one hears a thing
Tonight I have decided that
there's only one way out
And I tried so hard to fight it,
but the blame kept coming down!

And it led me right where your heart should have been
And it was the last thing you saw, was it in?

Self Indulgent Blathering

2009-05-21T13:25:00.000+08:00

My tormented soul, that for which you pray with words that drip from tongue like mercury: my bane, your solace... shunning juxtaposition with reality. Toxic and intoxicating, a crucifix to Lucifer, writhing in the exquisite pain she seeks yet ever shuns. And intrinsic gall of which we speak not drives one to the edges of comprehension and tolerance, for that inhabitance amidst outward complacency begs our downfall. With what lies do you bless and bid to heal, however pernicious? Faux sympathy forgets to grant the actions that truly soothe, how convenient. Fickle letters form words of even less meaning, though always in abundance abound. At sea you jettison first what actually begs thy attention and comfort. Why not husband your efforts, rid yourself of me, and sail on my love?

My love is socks? Right.

2009-05-20T13:50:00.005+08:00

"Rock, you fall in love more often than you change your socks."

First off, I don't wear socks, its flip flops for me 90% of the time, so stop being so cliche with your pseudo wisdom. You are not profound. And secondly, she implied frequency may be likened to sincerity, meaning since I fall in love so often it means nothing. "Well, perhaps you don't love often enough" I retorted, to which she replied, "Well, perhaps you love too much." (I hate it when people mock me). Since when can you love too much?! Preposterous. Anyone I have proclaimed to love I have loved with all of my heart, and take note, I am never the instigator of our demises... though it very well may have been my actions that served as fodder for my foiled romances. If I have any fault its having conceptualized who my beloved is, and in so ardently seeking this person, I assign whomever I consort with these traits. Meaning, I view who I am enamored with as this perceived beloved though they may not be. Loving too liberally is not a crime, though it may serve as an albatross at times. Just by nature I like to do for others, and I don't think I need to be loved so much as I need someone to love; I need a place to put my affection. I mean, I can only imagine how grand love requited is, but I don't seek it. Perhaps by loving someone with all of my heart I may one day receive the same in return, but until then I hold tight to my intermittent enchantments.

...And now, on to the golden tressed deity, ah me! :)

My NEWEST rule!

2009-05-10T11:45:00.003+08:00

-Never say "I love you" first

Though it may go against everything I inherently believe about love, it might save me a little hurt. How trite am I, reading "Chicken soup for the college soul?" Fucking ridiculous. But there was a passage from one of the stories that resonated within me with incisive candor:

"I, however, was dizzy for her and had the bad habit of saying so. Each time I did she pulled away from me. These were college summers, not the time for moony eyes and vows of undying devotion"

Maybe by trying to pull people so close I push them away? Though I may be absolutely stricken with amorous anticipation, my new endeavors in love really need to be tempered. I don't want to blow it by being woefully overt in my advances. We shall see, I haven't begun to express any interests... yet. I think I'll let it simmer awhile.

My Stone Heart

2009-05-02T16:03:00.000+08:00

There must be a slab of mortar in my chest for me to be so offended by your actions. Granted I am childish, granted I am not deserving of such acts of ardor, but it's apparent you don't hold me in the same regards as she. You speak to me of your acts of adoration as if I am not supposed to be lashed by your infatuations apparent, as if I am not left somewhat bitter that I mayn't be sole recipient of such divine indulgences, as if your amorous contemplations don't put my heart in the jowls of jealousy. But I am not worthy, of anyone, of anything, and when you don't expect anything, you're never let down, only hurt. And that's only what I ever expect, so my torment is commonplace and accepted. I know we are nothing, nor will we ever be anything, but deifying you is what keeps my heart beating. To insinuate affection would ever emanate from thee to me is pompous, pretentious, irreverent... so I don't. I shall wander this earth alone, now and always. I shall continue bedding those who I do not love, only to pacify that tiny part of me that wants to be loved, no matter how fickle or fake. My heart will remain a frigid stone in my ribcage, indelible and impenetrable by all inquisitors who dare approach... as if that were to ever happen. I will indulge in all the sensory physical, ephemeral pleasures in life, but never EVER will I dare to love, to live.

Incisive Naivete

2009-04-19T20:44:00.000+08:00

I am perturbed by thy nonchalant farewells, suitable for any stranger; I am distraught by thy meaningless chatter, polite but not affording me the acquaintance I feel entitled to. You are so naive, so clueless as to what you do. Your indifference is unintentional but just as incisive nonetheless. Your heart is bigger than thy head: it encompasses everything, but the little details that mean the world are overlooked. You love everyone so liberally because that is thy way, but you inadvertently torture all poor souls who fall prey to thy charm. For every person who has expressed their love to thee, gouge a hash mark in the ceiling. For every person that still loves you though you only string them along, give them an iota from affection from time to time, put two. Watch your sky come tumbling in. Amidst the rubble you will find broken hearts and souls torn open, crumpled love letters and wilting roses, tear stained teddy bears embossed with "I love you", gifts saddled with the heavy contemplation of the bearer... sit for a moment. Take a moment to sift through the wreckage, to realize just how many people wish you were theirs, and remember all the milliseconds you felt the same way, then trotted on. Comprehend how many people you've addled and made disconsolate. I'm not asking for anything, nor do I want anything, just ponder your past for a moment, I don't think you see the anguish in thy wake.

Throw Rag

2009-04-18T14:18:00.000+08:00

I am beaten to a bloody pulp, battered by thy aversion and temptation unattainable. Gazing towards the sky, slowly fading, blackness will soon become all that I am allowed to see. Bludgeoned by my gullibility, accosted by my vulnerabilities, consciousness regained is a slim possibility. They should have thrown in the towel long ago, but nobody could have foreseen this outcome. Now all it may be used for is to wipe the blood from my face, giving me a sliver of piety as I die.

New Favorite?

2009-04-11T14:34:00.001+08:00

So, you have a new favorite, oh insidious one? Does she fit your mold to a T, no matter how ineffective realistically speaking? Well I can fit your mold, I assure you of that. I will get what I deserve, and if to attain that I need to change myself, well so be it. If need be I would bend my knee 90 degrees in the wrong direction to get what I want, and if what you want is finesse, then you will get finesse. I will render myself useless, but at least you will be happy and I will be appeased. I will be a winner, even if i have to lose everything to attain it. AMAT VICTORIA CURAM. DE PROFUNDIS, RESURGAM.

"Lets put the women and children to bed and get some fucking dinner"

No Need To

2009-04-09T13:11:00.001+08:00

Half assed and tepid is worse than nothing at all.

Forced and begrudgingly done is worse than not wanting to in the first place.

So why should I care for worse when nothing is better?

So don't you ever, because never is what I want,

nothing is what I need,

for what you will do will only ever hurt me worse.

The Freshman Homestretch

2009-04-08T13:05:00.004+08:00

So basically if I pass the 1st semester, my sophomore year is looking great. Granted I have to go to summer school, but it's nice to know my entire future isn't ruined because of a shitty subject/course on the 2nd semester.

And why did I choose to go to college? Not really so much for myself. I could be happy with a meager income, spending more of my time on my political causes and volunteering than on my work. Though I do love law and politics as much as anything, they're such dirty fields to work in. But like I said, I'm not perusing those fields for myself so much. I go to college because I'd like to be able to support the ones I love. My parents, my relatives, the person I eventually end up with. I think more than anything I like to give gifts, to show my affection with not only my words and actions, but material objects. And so I need ample funding. So I'll spend a good, hmm 7-8 years of my life in college/law school to make things feasible (law school will be a BLAST, I'm sure). I want my dad to be able to spend his twilight years traveling, doing the things he's always dreamed of doing, but supported me instead. Along those lines I'm talking about. I want to give my mom all the little things she deprived herself of... I dunno. I want to give. I'm such a weirdo.

Maybe this is why I'm so apathetic while going through school? Who knows...

I am Slain

2009-04-07T13:00:00.001+08:00

Ever so slightly, with the words you grant me not... I have been slain. And as dubious as I may pretend to be, the affection and contemplation you grant her tears me apart. Internal bleeding rampant like the torrents of a midwinter storm... intrinsically consumed by my covetous lamentation. I hate to be querulous; expressing disdain towards those you deify is blasphemous. But I am subject to the emotions dictated by my heart, and not my head. I don't wish to impede thy love, do as you please... but leave me not in this gibbet to rot like carrion. Be square with me, this facade of emotion unspoken that looms before me is not of what I speak. I sit in its shadows, in the dark, too inquisitive for the good of my well being...

I'm Terribly Vexed

2009-04-06T12:53:00.001+08:00

I am vexed. I am terribly, terribly vexed. Caught somewhere within the nether world and the purity of absolute realism is where I reside; painfully somber, a tourniquet tied tight 'round the valve for my emotions. I am neither happy nor sad, angry or peaceful, loved or loving... I am merely a warrior. A warrior of nothingness, a warrior lost, wandering to an unknown destination, no army or comrades, only my shield, my sword, and my armor. No fight to be fought, but still clad in the attire of a killer. I am neither questing and hungry or disinterested and pacified... I exist only in my head, no world that you and I have come to know. I am a ghost of my past, the possibilities of my future, but transparent and non existent in the present. Drifting, drifting away into the abyss, hop scotching chasms, choosing my irrelevant path... it all leads to the same place... nowhere.

All Choked Up

2009-04-05T12:51:00.001+08:00

I look at her with envy in my eyes. She enjoys what is mine, and what is mine enjoys her back. I am left out in the cold, forgotten and wilting, but 'tis of my own doing, I was never good enough. The tears swell in my eyes, wave after wave of undulating anguish. It's snow in spring, everything that was alive and thriving now somber, frigid, DEAD. I am the leaves of fall: brilliant but lifeless, scattered on the earth; a torn Polaroid of a time I wished to keep forever. I am a faded painting, forever bound to how I was depicted, though I am nothing of what I used to be, lacking the detail and elegance that once captivated. I am a stuffed animal, my love outgrowing me, and I too rustic for my love. Behind the dumpster I lie, soaked with rain and molding, left to rot, to decompose into fiber and stuffing. I am thoroughly everything that is beautifully lifeless. I am of little value, aesthetically unpleasing, tenuous and callow. My relegation is fit for me and however painful it may be I accept it.

Fear, Failure and Shame

2009-04-04T16:03:00.002+08:00

Fear, failure, and shame are where my hesitance, my uncertainty stems from. I look back on my life thus far,and there are so many things I've could have done, could have been, had I not been captor of my insecurities. I sit weary, afraid to stand, to run, to live. I wish to avoid a failure, in any way shape or form. I'd rather refrain from doing than do and fail. And I wish not to incur the shame from failure. The knowing stares that penetrate my soul, that know of my insufficiencies. But most of all I fear. I fear failure and shame. I fear not being in complete control of my destiny, though none of us are.

I look at what I should have been and damn it to hell, condemn to a life of insignificance; I see what I can be, and I vow to pay little attention to my inhibitions of the past...

Rag doll Friendship

2009-04-03T20:00:00.006+08:00

This is a metaphor...

Take me along, like a little girl dragging her rag doll behind her as she skips away. Leave me torn and frayed when you're bored with me. Forget me under your bed when you no longer have use for me. Let me collect dust in the attic, alone, as you happily live your life. But don't forget, I was there to catch your tears when you cried at night. It was my dress you wiped away your blood with when you scraped your elbows. I sat through the tea parties and pageantry though I hated it. And it was I that was there for you night after night, who listened to your secrets and kept them, who never judged you, ever, and always agreed with you through my silence. Remember me always, the times we had, how I loved you like a good rag doll should: unconditionally, your best friend first before anything. My ears were always open, my mouth sealed shut. I understood when you threw me in the corner when you were mad, used me, abused me with your childish games. I understood when you tore me apart stitch by stitch to use my fabric for your amusement... Because that was my purpose: to be the best friend you could have ever wished for, and want nothing in return. And still I understand now, sitting in this yard sale, waiting to be sold with the 99 cent trash. I've served my purpose, and it's an honor to be sold for such a price. You only ever paid 2 cents to me.

Notebook Jargon

2009-04-02T15:38:00.001+08:00

More random excerpts from the scrawling in my notebooks...

I challenge thee fair maiden to a dual; a dual of hearts, a dual of wills, a dual of warring intentions pure. Draw thy saber and face me, from the sheath retracted raise thy sword and challenge my love! I would face thee weaponless if that was thy terms, for you mayn't extinguish my fervor. Bring thy worst, and if I fail, death is acceptable, for a life without my love is a death in of itself.

----------------------------------------------------------

My love, my bane... tis bittersweet and contradictory. My joy, my sanctuary; limbo, hell. It's my flesh flayed raw from a hundred lashes, it's wounds that never heal... though they may fester, my gashes, my insecurities never close, they only ooze and bubble. You have inadvertently brought me to within an inch of death. What you do not is worse than what you do, and you condemn me to the afterlife one way or another with thy mode of inaction. I would rather you DO and kill me, torture me with cruelty than I die from an idle heart. So do and release me quickly, rather than I wither away wondering and waiting, dying from my infected wounds.

Summer of Self Discovery

2009-04-01T21:42:00.002+08:00

After three lengthy conversations with my father, I came to a few conclusions:

1. I'm not happy at this point in my life
2. I need to find what makes me happy
3. This summer is the perfect time to do it
4. I have his blessings to pursue whatever it is I deem as "happiness" .

So this shall be my summer of self discovery. Whatever it is that I so choose to pursue is mine. So here are the definites. I need to fare well in the following if I wish to continue at UST with any success (by my decree):
-A college course (accountancy)
-Getting my license (OH GOD)
-Fitness (15 minute 2 mile, 20 inch vertical, etc)

In that order of importance. But my father also made it clear that although I wish to test my work ethic this summer, and push the bounds of my capabilities, I also need to do a few things that I've wanted to do for a while. And those I still need to figure out. All those things in the past where I've been like "Oh yeah, I'd love to try that" are so going to happen. Haha, I'm pretty sure I could convince my dad of almost anything... but I wouldn't take advantage of him. I'm just excited at all the possibilities. And if I can drive? HA, Ooooh my, it's going to be awesome. And it is about self discovery, not selfish indulgences. It's trying new things, being happy, being excited about tomorrow in general. And I can't wait; I so can't wait to be happy.

ALL MY DAMN GIRLS BETTER BE READY... IT'S GONNA KICK ASS!

Let It be It

2009-03-31T10:08:00.001+08:00

Let it be, let it be, FORGET.
Shed thy skin, drop thy baggage, don't stop at gift shops.
Let your memories visit but don't let them stay too long.
Travel with thy soul, thy scruples, and thy love.
Toss your map out the window, get lost sometimes,
your road to happiness is not straight, or even
winding for that matter.
It's backtracking, it's loops, it's hills and potholes,
stoplights and uninhibited travel, but definitely not

straight or the comforting undulation of a winding road.
Run on empty, let yourself breakdown...
there's sure to be a gas station up ahead.
Life will be how it should,
but never in the way you want it.
Let it be, and don't fucking

worry about it.

My Jealousy

2009-03-29T15:38:00.002+08:00

My jealousy does not spring from scorn or resentment, but rather my pain and insecurities. It is not of possessive ill intent or domineering subjugation, but of hurt and loneliness. It does not prohibit or eavesdrop or sit with anticipation. It does not boil with anger waiting to be uncorked. It is though, it IS: my bane, it IS my sadness, and it does leave me to ponder the worst of what anguish it shall bring upon me. It is every inadequacy I have contemplated in relation to the relevance of others. My jealousy does not wish to protect its interest or pride, nor does it wish to dual with the origin of my tears... my jealousy is silent. It is encompassed within my ribcage; it feels as if the blade graces my belly ever so gently and pulls my entrails out inch by inch. I keep the hurt within the bounds of my reality, tis never expressed, nor will it ever be. My jealousy has no right to exist, and yet it is burgeoning and ever present. However, even with this notion inherent in my soul I deem fighting it futile. Until I consider myself of any worth, of any significance whatsoever, it will always be my curse.

Somewhat Heartbroken

2009-03-28T02:21:00.005+08:00

I've come to a few conclusions:

1.One mayn't love another if they still linger in the loves of their past.
2.This is something they must reconcile themselves.
3.It is wholly possible for someone to love someone that doesn't love them.

If I truly possessed a love of ANY worth whatsoever, if I loved someone, they would love me back without question, enamored with me as I am with them. My love would be suffice to make them forget the wounds of previous loves, not another thought devoted to the past, not another ache or pain felt. My love would be requited and reciprocated. They wouldn't have to get around to showing their "love". They would be compelled to do things for me, just as I am absolutely possessed to do for them, or rather SHOW them, and prove to them my absolute devotion with every waking breath. And so what if I am not loved as I love? I will continue to love without boundaries or question because I know no other way. However, the height I gain from such an affliction is increasing. The longer I am toted around as only reassurance of ones desirability (instead of a moiety to love complete), the farther I will fall when I finally do face reality. If I could choose lyrics that would seem indicative of things at the moment, I'd choose this from Blink 182's "Fentoozler": "How long can I string you along?How little of myself can I give and still make you believe I care?". Not from me, but TO me from the object of my affection. Not indicative of my love, but rather of what I receive in return. And not that I ever do anything in life expecting to get something in return, but I guess it's just nice to know someone loves you as much as you love them. Which completely isn't the case, but I'm still enchanted anyway.

I play not the game of moderation and flirtation; poker faced disinterest intended to entice, but rather I show my whole heart and soul from the start. No trepidation or hesitance... when I love, I love, my uninhinited affection a hallmark of my candor. No facades or guises, my love is discernable as black from white... my heart not only on my sleeve but behind plated glass: on display and easily critiqued and interpreted. I love too liberally, and in doing so, there is no aspect of difficulty to it. My love is a given, not a quest, and many may shy from my zeal. So be it. Love is not a game, love just is. If I love you, it is known, I needn't be chased and caged. And in lacking the aspect of attainment, I suppose it seems my love is drab, because half the fun is the chase, no? But I am not a prize to be won, my love isn't composed of such arrogance. Rather, my love is gratis, it can be divided infinately and still not diminish. I love too liberally, yes, but can one really love too much?

<3 i'm somewhat heartbroken, the season of interminable agony is here

Rainbows and Pomegranates

2009-03-26T17:15:00.003+08:00

Sometimes I think love is just mythical, some bible fairytale plentiful in promise and comfort but lacking in matter and candor. Something so fervently sought after and chased, but with no real hope of achievement. Much like the end of a rainbow, painfully visible and near, but never any closer to attainment when purused. But the notion is beautiful, just not worth believing in. Oh the bliss though to THINK you're in love, until you realize how fickle it is, that love has about as much substance and sustenance as a pomegranate. So concentrated and intense, the flavor unforgettable, but consumed nearly as quickly as it came, not offering any true satiation.

To have love at ones fingertips but never any closer, to have the object of thy affection a crystalline picture in ones mind but never anything more... utter torment. Or even worse, to love someone and believe they love you, only to realize it was unreturned. But more painful than love unrequited or unattainable love is being alone, not having any say in the matter, just being a wandering vesture of solitude not self imposed.

My mornings are misty and lonely, brisk and unaccompanied by any companionship whatsoever. My nights are empty and cold, clear and imposing but with no real comfort or ease. I have come to think that love is not worth persuing, and my solitude should be of my own doing, so that my misery is of my own hand. I'd rather be the master of my own destiny, no matter how melancholy, than being a pawn of someone elses actions. I'm so fucking tired of chasing rainbows and eating pomegranates...

And the Sun Poured in like Butterscotch

2009-03-26T15:08:00.000+08:00

Song playing on loop: "Chelsea Morning" by Joni Mitchell. Not that I didn't adore Joni Mitchell before, but now that I've rediscovered this song (new meaning maybe?) she lives in my iPod.

As detached as I'm trying to become, I'm still find myself completely enamored, and still no clue as to why. Nothing within me has died... as much as I want it to. I think my body is incapable of carrying the infatuation my heart holds. Quite arduous, much like Atlas carrying the world upon his back. But by the same token I don't fight it; perhaps it's a joyous malediction? Perhaps it may be attributed to the way I love, and whom. I love like one loves their God, without bounds and without question. But God's love is never exclusive, and perhaps it is difficult to accept that I have to share God's love with others, because let's face it, the world knows of her divinity, and they too would like to share the comfort of her love. Actually, I retract my prior statement. God doesn't love me, nor does she use the word love liberally. Christ, even the fact that I compare this person to God speaks of my endless enchantment. However, I believe the trepidation of love unrequited has indeed gotten the best of me.

Anyway, "Chelsea Morning". The way I interpret it: beautifully written, wonderfully adorned with detail. Describing a joyous morning in all it's splendor, after a night spent with a lover presumably, hence making it such a magnificent morning. Maybe I'm incorrect, and coming to my own conclusions for my own benefit. It is how a morning would be with she, I imagine, but the fact that the song bears her name is also quite appealing. Ah well, the road to recovery is long apparently. Not that I was ever wronged or harmed or hurt, but I view it as saving myself before I get too deep. I slowly wade to the shallow end.

If Not the Palpitation of My Heart

2009-03-25T11:33:00.001+08:00

With this inexplicable ardor I am stricken.
Wholly submerged and consumed,
Crux quavering with my woefully discernible vulnerabilities
To be so smitten,
To be so enamored,
Oh, if only God graced this world with expression adequate
of such grandeur as thou art
If not the palpitation of my heart to convey
my perception of thy magnificence,
Then what shall?
Laudable not are the snow brushed mountains,
Glimmering in all the glory of the midnight rays
Nor are all the scintillating odes that adorn
the velvet hours of the dark
In all their constellations divine
The opulence that titivates thy face is unrivaled:
The vibrant hue of fair autumn,
An infinite palette of beauty and ebullience,
Fails to hold a torch to thee,
even in its hour of satiated glory
And thus
Nothing I could conceive or create would be suffice,
Would be worthy
Of vindicating the exquisite angel with whom I am graced
For I am not worthy of admiring such divinity

Though not bid a farewell fit for a celestial deity
T'was not in spite, or indifference, or ambivalence
My words only spoke of my inadequacies
And the futility of the fickle words of man
In relation to describing thee

May this cherub sleep with the comfort, the knowledge
Of the unyielding reverence one holds for her
Though it mayn't be copiously expressed,
It's there, burgeoning and thriving
Though I may never be capable of
means of adequate conveyance

If my pain = thy demise, so be it

2009-03-24T15:41:00.002+08:00

...I don't think you are aware of how much I despise thee. So much so that I would inflict pain upon myself for the cause of thy demise. If it would culminate in thy ruin, I would disembowel myself and replace my innards with burning coals. I would gouge my eyes out with forks, peel my skin off inch by inch, bathe in boiling oil... reveling in my exquisite anguish, for I would be the victor of the affair after both of our ends. *Ma Ell*: she who hath incurred the wrath of the one who knows no boundaries. I look back on this season, and how everything I was entitled to, how everything I earned with my BLOOD and TOIL was irreverently usurped... by thee. Vile LOUT!

You were a joke, a punch line, and a tool of manipulation used by he who imposes torment upon me to no end. And you relished it, basked in your faux glory, pushed my face into the viscous mud. So I will take it upon myself to rectify this detestable situation...

Bring thy best, I will savor thy slaughter.

I Pray

2009-03-23T19:09:00.002+08:00

"He is not worthy of the honeycomb that shuns the hive because the bees have stings"

And so it begins next week: My ultimate sacrifice for he who I shall forever fail to impress. There is no sweeter nectar than that of undisputed victory; there is no death more painful than that of defeat despite thy most valiant efforts. The journey will be monotonous, and it will be daunting, I can assure myself of that, but the promise of the ultimate reward I shall reap is too alluring. I play his game, with his rules, and his penalties. If I fail the consequence shall be grave... the consequence shall be my life. And I say this not as a metaphor for the relegation of self I shall suffer for the rest of my existence, but in reference to my life, in fact, expiring.If I am forced to watch she who I despise awarded my lot revel in conquest, my heart shall cease beating then and there. I would rather die and rot then watch her steal my essence. But I pray it shan't come to that. I pray I will be justly compensated for my bane, and displace the despot who rules over my kingdom. I pray...

Attention Span of a Goldfish

2009-03-22T11:57:00.004+08:00

Unfinished shitty poems and prose. Guess I just have the attention span of a goldfish sometimes...

P.S. I am aware I overuse the word "despondency", and it kills me

____________________________________________

It commands my attention, the methodical hum of the approaching freighter, the melodic wails beckoning me to its tracks. So rhythmic, so precise, so woefully different from the life I choose to lead; STEEL CONFORMITY...

_______________________________

My death was of my own will
but like the phoenix rises
I ascended from the embers
of despondency and discord
As dawns amber hues light the sky
and the wisps of night draw their final breaths
so begins my rebirth
I gleaned my soul of all that was impious
from my heart i purged
the torment & resentment & anguish
for living with such antipathy
was a hex, a malediction
flesh flayed from bone, and bone to dust
I aimlessly trudged atop my trail of indigo torment
until I garnered the courage....

never bothered to finish
______________________________

BITTER RESENTMENT:
a testament of my unwilling subservience
I watched myself die
like an animal ensnared
pushed to the brink
knowing of my impending demise
then contemplating gnawing my leg off
to set myself free
from the metal jowls of my detestable vices
I am but a laurel of your past
a pawn of your future
It is evident I chose a death off all that was myself
to a freedom sans wholeness bless
despondency is vacant, empty
"desolate solitude"
but invisible to all but the bearer

_________________________________

For was it not civilized society we were living in I would have thoroughly enjoyed ripping her intestines out and feasting on her bones...

_____________________________

Such a vile and dank tangle of matted hair engulfing these highways, these homes in the middle of nowhere. The steel mournful overcast sky accents the various shades of brown that consume the landscape. who could dwell in such sorrow, such despondency? So empty and cold; as hell would be I imagine. the serpentine streams barely a trickle above my blood flow schlep along, sauntering away until they are arid beds of week and muck. Two shades of gray below happiness. This bog of unpleasant hues, of torment, is home to my unhappiness. the twig like trees reach for the sky, their finger like branches piercing the oppressive silence with their rustling. the dead soil cannot produce anything but the skeletal outlines of shrubbery...

____________________________________

"But you've already had ice cream today"

Chastising me like a toddler
as if you were my mother
i conceal the malcontent that lives within
in my age of decadence
I have the misfortune of a mother
not my own, mind you
but a peer who views herself as such
as means of control & power
my patience wanes
she becomes ever the more domineering by the moment
to whom i answer is myself
my choice & my consequences are of my own
and i accept what i bring upon myself
apparently not ali
every fiber of my being is called upon
with each command i am forced to pallate
ali perceives herself as pious, alpha
and the combination of such equals
the right to reign
snide and spiteful
she feels it her duty
to control my every potential action
for "my" well being
when in actuality it is her own she seeks to protect
and I am beginning to believe, to fear
my own individuality will cease in time
that i will become her subordinate
a subservient of her...
_____________________________

I live in obscurity: in close proximity to defeat and anguish where darkness and ends and light begins within a looming haze, an oppressive brute.

_____________________________________

I assign my life little value.
at the expense of my pride
i pay a daily fee
In my death
I would receive an affection I know little of
kind words spoken only when i'm gone
never thought to be uttered
to be spoken while my heart still beats

____________________________

I live within the brackish twilight of annihilation despondent, decomposing plagued with an insatiable atrophy alone without a soul to turn to...

Not Worthy of your LOVE

2009-03-20T16:17:00.003+08:00

You said anything would do, I gave you pain
It's all I know how to give
Complete and utter lack of self, self deprecation
A laurel of my love
By showing I'd do anything
And by depriving myself of what I enjoy,
Even if it is you I am depriving myself of,
I am showing you I love you
I would slit my wrists and write it on the walls
Because it's the only way I know how
I would remove my skin and
Fold an origami masterpiece for you
It was the only way I was taught
It was the only THING I was ever taught
That I am not worthy of love
That I'm not worthy of your love

You don't understand why I push you away
But you don't understand that I'm not good enough
Not pretty enough, thin enough,
You can't comprehend why I reciprocate by avoiding you
You tell me all the things I want to hear
All the right words at all the right times
But I defer you and joke about it
I almost ridicule you in a sense &
say you're crazy for believing such a thing
Because I am not worthy of your love

I'd rather show you I care by
walking through the bowels of hell
Eating glass, wearing wire sweaters
Bleeding myself white
And all for you
I'd rather do and sacrifice
Than accept and enjoy
Don't pay attention to me, it only makes me ponder why
And in doing so all my faults come to light
So let me sacrifice for you
Eradicate my joy to make you happy
Revel in my exquisite pain
Because I'm still not worthy of your love

So the way I display my amorous affection displeases you?
It makes you unhappy?
You love me no longer?
Like I always anticipated, it's no surprise
It's OK I saw it coming
I knew this would be the way it had to be from day one
And prepared for it like WWIII
Because I knew I'd never be worthy of your love
And I never will be

Done *death... found my peace

2009-03-15T11:57:00.003+08:00

The tide recedes, a fire dies, I am carrion left in the sun... nothing left but a skeletal vesture of dejection. Alone and consumed, like a corpse disposed of at sea. I sway to my dissonance like a hanged man sways in the breeze. Ravaged by disease, jaded and disillusioned, I am but a testament of what ones vices may bring them. Rigor mortis binds me to this pose like a statue, head in hands, shoulders hung, legs folded carelessly beneath me. I have no innards, and my heart was lost long ago. I am flesh, rotting flesh, rotting eyes sinking into my skull and lips receding into a sinister grin, only teeth exposed, my hair nothing but a thinning web of tangles. There is nothing left to give, for I gave it all, and received nothing in return for my fervor. But death is easy, twas dying that tormented me. Death gave me what no one would in life: love and acceptance unquestioned, so mourn me not, I've found my peace.

More Unfinished Ramblings

2009-03-13T20:35:00.007+08:00

"Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe and smilest upon the stroke that murders me."

-Romeo & Juliet

For what is fear when one has everything to gain? A world at their fingertips? A universe to encompass within the bounds of their very love and soul? But enjoyable not is divinity when one is wholly unworthy and painfully aware. How can one enjoy heaven when they fear desecrating it with every breath and every touch? Tis an unpalatable impossibility. But say one did make it to heaven, knowing of their contemptibility, and heaven not? What would happen then? Would I shun heaven so that others, perhaps more laudable than I, may enjoy it's piety? Or would I grasp at the chance with gusto, however short lived it may be? Or would I remain in the darkness to avoid revelation? For worse than realizing one is not worthy of heaven would be HEAVEN making the distinction, then tossing me from her gates. If not killed by the fall, surely would my shame and disgust. Would rather I sit in the molten muck of hell for an eternity than experience heaven, only to be tossed back? Or would my fear and doubt get the best of me? But
better a second of heaven, a lifetime of darkness, than a life having not ever known thy divinity. But who's to say I wouldn't take you down with me? That may be my greatest fear...

----------------------------------------

I am the architect of my own prison, the detractor from my wholeness. Unfettered in my expression, yet entirely inhibited in my reception. Through my perception of unworthiness I undermine any enjoyment I would receive. No actions could convince me otherwise. Perhaps I enjoy admiring what I shouldn't have, what would be better off without me. Or perhaps I enjoy the pain of love unrequited...

--------------------------------------

I am:

unworthy

I am not:

good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, kind enough, loving enough, strong enough...

I sit and make tallies at night, as one counts sheep. I count why I am unworthy of thee. I never sleep, but lucky am I to have no end to my tallies. I mark my walls like one does in a prison. The hash marks remind me of my insufficiencies every time I dare open my eyes, every time I run my fingers along the walls I may feel every reason. Give me any and every reason as to why I am not of thy caliber, why I would be wrong for you, and chances are I fit the description. I am nothing.

PIOUS DEBAUCHERY

2009-03-11T18:13:00.004+08:00

This is shit, don't waste your time judging my thoughts..

PIOUS DEBAUCHERY

Imbue, imbrue, though synonyms, used separately, not a typo..

She imbrued the pallid silk as a wound would a bandage, imbuing it with a depravity unspeakable to the perpetrator, incomprehensible to those unaware of its desecration. As the limpid pores imbibed the brackish hue, the dastardly actions that constantly consumed the girl would take on a life of their own. All that was conceived to be sacred, all that was pure, in a moment would cease to subsist, yet it was she that had the gall, the impudence to commence what would be her sure to be heinous end.

For years she had used the textile to camouflage the true nature of her being, for years it was a facade she had so thoroughly portrayed, that she herself believed in it. It took but one thread to unravel and contact her sullied body to being the viral disclosure. The filth attached itself to the fabric as talons affix themselves to vulnerable flesh. It rambunctiously dispersed like mercury, and was just as unfeasible to entrap once loose. It was then that the qualms of her action would battle in her head. It was too late to turn back, yet the rational half of her brain immediately began to concoct stratagems for redemption. However, she was left in no man's land. Her sinful deeds had eaten her away to the bone; she could no longer tolerate such incisive anguish. Yet what is worse: mental agony, or physical pain? Once her identity, her impiety was revealed, she would be ostracized, no better than a walking corpse. Her actions had been so obscene, so appalling, the events were blacked out of her mind. Yet however ardently she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling of wrongdoing that consumes one's self until divulged. But were her actions really done amidst a Pandora's box of insidious human emotions? Was it done in spite or anger or hatred or jealousy? No, but rather for the betterment of herself, even if it cost those around her what they held so dearly: trust.

Her clandestine affairs were nearly all divulged, if she didn't act soon she would have but no choice. It was time to face the music. Or rewrite it, perhaps. But as she contemplated the loneliness of her surreptitious lifestyle, she ceased her contemplations, and let the process proceed as she had once planned for them to.

The transformation was finished. As she stood amongst her peers, unrecognizably clad in black, the silence resounded like a gunshot. Was this the comrade they had come to know and love over the years? It couldn't be. As she tried to speak, the words came out like the squeals of a swine, and the animal was immediately ejected from the world she had come to know. She was told she would be allowed to carry on as she was, with peers who were just as grimy and unscrupulous as she. She was a new class of person, but still regarded as what she once was, detestable. This was to be her new life, or so she thought.

She was remorseful and sincerely apologetic for what she had done. Repulsed by herself, she accepted her new fate. But what he didn't give a second thought to was her lack of vision. As newborns are unable to focus in their first days of life, nor could she. Her world was an incandescent screen painted with the shadows and movements of others. As she withered away, despondent and melancholy, her sight was newly revived. She went to bid her final farewell to her former correspondents, but was shocked to find only more swine. Where had her friends vanished to? But as one opened it's mouth to speak, the squeals came out as perfect English. No, how could this be? Were these truly the friends she had once cherished and loved?! Indeed, for animals see one another for what they are. Humans recognize humans; cats recognize cats, et cetera et cetera. Now that she could see as a non-human, she immediately recognized her friends as Pigs. They had been just as unripe she all along, yet she couldn't recognize them (nor could they discern she), for she had not come to terms with her immorality. She was disgusted and rightly so. Whilst she suffered amidst the regret for her hidden life, her friends reveled in it. Now she realized that she was the pious one for professing her depravity. Amidst the debauchery and lunacy she indulged in, lied a truly pure person at heart. It's odd how things eat away at us when we put others on pedestals blindly, only to find that we were, in fact, the virtuous ones. It's appaling how secrets eat away at us, but everyone harbors their own inner shame.

Lest I Act in Abhorrance

2009-03-07T14:06:00.006+08:00

Overwhelmed, I sat with diligence, a conscious submission and a nod to my mental fatigue. It as a freeze frame of my life, something I knew I would remember for years to come, albeit with great reluctance. It was an epiphany, a moment of concise reflection amidst an apex of happiness. Surrounded by the serene panorama of my school, it was uncharacteristically calm. It was a second of visual appeasement, but as I lie staring at the great expanse of the universe above me I began an introspective ranting that would mark the beginning of my demise.

Overworked, yet blithe at my progress, I sat with a smugness known only by those at the top. It was indeed coming together as I had dreamed. But I stepped out of my world for a moment. Everything is relevant, yet my accomplishments seemed so mundane and insignificant. I had not faced adversity in a climate where my life was at stake. Whilst I live in a country that knows no want, others starve. I live in peaceful obscurity, with everything in its worldly order. I bat no eye as my "homeland" decimates those who they deem to be the "enemy". We murder children; greed is our rallying cry. We soil all that is pious; we leave destruction in our wake. Fear permeates our being, and we are driven by it to consume to no end. Lies are twisted until consumed as truth; truth is what we label as outrageous. Global warming? Ha! It's a myth! What's that you say? Peace on earth? Never heard of it! BE CHRISTIAN! PROCREATE! EVIL EVIL EVIL EVIL EVIL! SINNERS GO TO HELL! CONSUME, REPENT, FEAR FEAR FEAR! WAR IS GOOD, BLINDLY FOLLOW YOUR PRESIDENT, SUBSERVIENCE IS PATRIOTIC!

I live not in a reality. I am a fake. I couldn't palliate my being so I complied, I fell in line. Dances, mock trial, debates, scarlet club,YFC, school spirit, rallies: FUN FUN FUN! I forgot about protesting the war, the occupation, starvation, the environment, civil rights, spirituality. I forgot, not a second thought awarded.

As I sat after school, dressed up for "neon day" during a review, my mind left for a moment. My thoughts were elsewhere, a swirling mess of philosophy, realization, and ideas. As I pulled myself back to reality, back to the safety of color-coded garbage cans and tract homes, it was like being slammed in the face with a shovel. My chest heaved, my teeth clenched without my consent, "Fallacy!" I exclaimed and shoved a sharpened pencil in my knee. The tip penetrated, but it didn't go very deep. The blood pooled in a drop the size of my pinky fingernail then proceeded to run down my leg to a small pool on the pavement. I sat there 'till I was good and ready to leave. My blood still remains there as a crimson laurel of my new found viewpoints, the pain it took to relocate them. It will always remain there, just as my rekindled perspectives will.

My Debilitating Infatuation

2009-03-07T13:51:00.005+08:00

Would it be crass to say that I loved you outright? Would you deem me callow, irrational, lovelorn, for believing such a thing? I admire you from afar, fearing I am wholly unworthy of thy incandescence. For how would one approach a god? "Would'st thou be interested in courting a mere mortal? May I offer every iota of my being as a sacrifice to thy omnipotence?" The day my eyes were graced with thy presence I knew not whether to laugh or cry, to dance or sit awestruck, but I knew it was right. For a moment I saw heaven, for a moment, the cosmos aligned. Time was at a stand still, and every magnificent detail was discernable. I was floored with the swelling of my heart. It palpitated as if it had finally seen the light, as if I was indeed in rapture. I still don't think I've recovered. Every second I become more and more enamored with thee, as my being becomes increasingly saturated with a conflagration of ardor... inextinguishable even by the coldest of hearts. I knew I loved you 'ere I met you. It was if I had prayed so zealously, that I wished you into life. (I suppose it took only fifteen falling stars...) In every aspect of life I find thee, in the stars you name shines bright, in the diamonds strewn upon the sea I see your eyes... I don't even know why I try, words, pictures this world, are not suffice to describe thee.

The Memory of Yesterday

2009-03-06T17:56:00.005+08:00

As I walked down the bike path and felt the sea salt cauterize my eyes, I watched a man pour a memory into the ocean. As he stood on the pier, and emptied the contents of an urn into the grayish undulation, i wondered if that is what i need to do: purge myself of the memory of yesterday, the memories of how i came to view life and the future.

I used to scan my horizon and believe I could accomplish anything. I used to believe that everyone was truly good at heart, and no one really put money and success before happiness and well being. That a person, no matter how insidious, had a good side to them. I used to find a feeling of security in that certainty... like the way people find comfort knowing the sun will always rise and fall. And then i met death and hatred and indifference.

I used to always believe my grandfather and his prunes would always be there to comfort me. And then a heart attack took him. I used to believe my schoolmates were like me: basically good at heart, just trying to find their lot in life. I used to believe that everyone would help out others in their time of need. Then as a compassionate 9 year old, I walked the narrow streets of F. Balce and stopped to give a homeless elderly woman assistance. It didn't dawn on me then that no one else was stopping.

People disappoint me. I tend to be more cynical in my later teen years. I criticize too much. Maybe I should forget what I have learned yesteryear and be a die hard optimist. Maybe I should actually give substance to the words I offer to people. I never resort to my inner
feelings in front of my friends and family. I appear to have an indelible spirit of hope, yet I possess the exact opposite. I have met death hatred and indifference, and have resolved to conquer them all. I shall not resort to submission and pessimism. I shall not lose faith in my
fellow (wo)man. My hope, my faith(not at all religious), my dreams of a tolerant society will not die. I have not given up.

The Season of Interminable Agony

2009-03-01T15:36:00.003+08:00

Until the bane is bled from my heart, until the resentment and anguish and torment are vanquished. I live with myself, my inadequacies, and my embittering vices. I once was convinced that everything was attainable; that it only took sacrifice and toil, a little blood, and maybe a little luck to achieve greatness. Was. Unfortunately with all honesty I must confess that I have been broken, shattered. Anything that I held as sacred or certain is now sullied, and my entire perspective of life is disillusioned.

With what gall and impudence do I dare challenge success?! How may I even begin to defy what is set in stone by the labor of all who came before me? And explain how I scoff and scream over what I am given, though it is more that others have ever will have. Is it a crime to want to be the best? Or to want more only to pacify that little voice in the back of my mind that wails: YOU ARE BETTER THAN SHE, YOU DESERVE MORE!

It's all so selfish: Wanting more, wanting it all, wanting the acknowledgment and laurels I believe I am entitled to. But with whom I quarrel is no nemesis of mine! To be a nemesis, one must first be a peer, an equal, a rival. I am incapable of recounting such a time between she and I. To infer we have equal capabilities and potential would be pure subjugation. She nevertheless earns what she is given, and dare I say, deserves it at times. Then why do I question it? Why do I feel the same entitlement to her lot? Why do I feel like she has stolen what is mine?

It has become the season of interminable agony. Insurmountable woe has painted my entire existence a pale periwinkle of defeat. What was once my joy is now perfunctory, a task that I must palate. I carry the burden like a cross, trudging from one day to the next, surviving because I convince myself I enjoy it, though I do not. So I suppose it all boils down to survival now living from one day to the next, never looking ahead because my situation shan't improve. Utter drudgery. All hope has been exhausted; there is no light at the end of the immediate tunnel. Potential for redemption is not visible at this point in my life; it's only a glimmer I can dream of as I trudge along in the darkness, something I can strive for in hopes of attaining one day.

And what propels me from this point to the next? RAGE, REDEMPTION, REVENGE. This mighty chaos builds within me daily, ruminating, cultivating, fermenting. It waits, patiently, methodically, for its opportunity to be unleashed upon the instigator of my anguish. And when my chance for salvation dawns, it will be uncorked, and quaffed to the point of inebriation. Drunken retribution, blinded by this all consuming need to settle the score. I will be victorious, I must be victorious, it is my sole purpose, my soul's purpose from now until then, until I am allowed to bask in the glory and light and wholeness of self again.

Random Ramblings on BIRTHDAYS

2009-02-26T03:03:00.000+08:00

6210 days of living.
party all night long.
went to a bar.
stepped on my stilettos.
danced on the floor.
went to a carnival.
and tested my fear.
watched a last full show.
of confessions of a shopaholic.
drank beer for the first time.
burned my stomach.
got rashes the next day.
birthday's sucks.
i'm closer to death.
older again.
any god of death.
willing to be a sand.
or give a death note.

random.
fuzzed.

The Crucifixion of My Incessant Mediocrity

2009-02-23T18:02:00.002+08:00

I let it seep in today, the finality of my current predicament. So laughable, yet increasingly disturbing. It seems as if I have faltered at the finish line, as if I have let my alter ego ravage who I once was, who I should have been. The specificities are alarmingly inconsequential, so I shant divulge. Is it not odd what is trivial for one is the world to the next? Is it not odd what I consider to be my everything I play off as petty, so as to not incure the wrath of those who consider what vexes me insignificant? Or perhaps I classify my bane as slight so as to appear strong, as if nothing can deter my will. It troubles me that I am so preoccupied with others' perception of me. In the end, what does it all mean anyway? Acceptance? Happiness? Misery? In life one has to face themselves on a daily basis, but if the essence of their being gets lost in the facade, what is there to define as truth? what is there to look back on? It's almost akin to painting over a picasso. The former originality is lost forever, never to be salvaged, but in the moment, it seems as if all is well. Like a monet, from afar everything seems juxtaposed... in correct alignment, but only as one approaches the painting, does it all come unravaled, does it appear to be a jumbled mess. That's a metaphor for my life. I decimated the person I once was. I erased all traces of it to become what I thought was acceptable. I painted a new self for me to look back to as a standard of greatness. I reveled in it, I enjoyed my newfound life, and even as I looked back at who I once was it never dawned on me. Because I had altered the original, I saw little change, I enjoyed my "progress". But little by little, as I ever slowly approached my former self, It began to look like a portrait of disarray. How could I have betrayed myself?

Ah, this is crap, I'll revise this later...

Arbitrary Rantings

2009-02-22T13:02:00.002+08:00

My vices, my desires, my downfalls. For what is agony? Sanity? Insanity? Normality? Why must we rely so incessantly on others' perceptions of ourselves? Mustn't it be our duty to define happiness and well being for ourselves? Questions, rantings, insatiable needs for answers. Humans: so refined and dignified. We "control" the planet, we destroy it. We claim to be enlightened. Wow, we know the difference between right and wrong. Woopty friggin doo! And we use it for what? Destruction and killing? We are animals... in every aspect of the word. Why deny it? Do we not preoccupy ourselves with becoming the alpha (prom royalty)? Apocalypse, religion, gratification. They are nothing. We are sheep, I need not elucidate. Pain, gut wrenching pain, agonizing confusion. I am uncertain. A typhoon of indecision and reluctance threatens to turn my cranium to mush. Never ending insults are on the verge of lighting the powder keg in my soul. I will be reduced to a wandering venture of ashes and insincerity, just like everyone else. Fear. Fear and survival consume our way of life. Sanguinary, rabid, we kill for peace. The blood of martyrs, innocents, and petty criminals will drown us all.

Squalid Solitude & Fermented Self Hatred

2009-02-21T18:14:00.005+08:00

For what is life if not agony? A sadistic torture? A malevolent pestilence? Not, tis far worse. Life is a squalid solitude, for which there is no meaning. an oozing sore of forlorn dejected misery. The mere act of pulsating blood is a ravenous disease: depraved, acerbic, coveting. suicide: the only plausible escape, is insidious fallacy; a redundant circle. Death is but a doorway, but to a utopia of elation? Oh, dear me, no. Tis a pathway to the underworld, which unfortunately is not a final destination. Tis an ephemeral tunnel of painful memories of what went wrong, that ultimately leads to the place for which i harbor such unyielding rancor... life.

Amidst the dormancy, my hatred was given time to ferment. It cultivated a bitter, yet amazingly palatable taste, thus allowing my to imbibe 'till my anguish had reached its zenith. Intoxicated with abhorrence, I raked my palms against the most incisive of graters. As the blood ran along my arm, it consumed me like a river does a stone. A crimson storm, I took to war with my former being, my higher self versus the new malevolent me, fighting for wholeness even if it had to murder all that was good in me. My loath for my previous self could no longer be contained. I slashed it, I stabbed it, I gored it's eyeballs. I ravaged it 'till it was left a mutilated corpse. Tired, I lay upon the bloodied earth like a broken wing, no longer worthy of floating in the heavens. As my corpse rotted and merged with the earth, there came an ethereal presence. As I stared at the sky, atop the imposing hill, I couldn't discern where heaven started and where hell ended, for I was in both worlds. I was in hell, after decimating all that was good of me, letting it once again become a piece of fertile soil. My former self was allowed once again to return to the heavens, a place my new self was now forbidden. With my dagger seeped in the colors of it's trade, I couldn't plead innocence. I was wholly guilty. My evil half, the conqueror was condemned to a life of guilt, secrecy, shame, hate, jealousy... a life of torturous depravity.

We stood face to face, I in a world of darkness, the old me swathed in a scintillating comfort. Aching with my hangover of hatred, I realized my detest had caused what would be the gravest mistake of my life. I took one last glimpse as heaven closed. I still live with my mistake every day, and not a day goes by that I don't regret it.

The Darkside in All of Us

2009-02-15T13:03:00.002+08:00

I feel real vulnerable opening up about everything to virtually anyone that has INTERNET access. It doesn't paint a great picture of myself but I'd rather be honest. I'm not perfect...

For every step I take forward, I feel as if I take two back. Thus, I’m slowly losing ground. It doesn’t matter how hard I try, there is ALWAYS something in the milieu waiting to broach my sense of happiness, which is ever fleeting.

I’ve been trying to keep a positive outlook; even through the hardest of times but it’s illusionary. I don’t know how many more devises or mechanisms I have to help maintain some sort of balance in my life; I’ve seem to lost all vitality. I feel as if I’ve been reduced to a shell of a being. I can only hold onto this veneer for so much longer until I finally break and I’m afraid that I’ve almost reached that point.

I feel mentally unhealthy. I am at an utmost level of sorrow which started over a year ago and has been mounding. I feel coerced to succumb to these levels of anxiety because I’m not in control of my life, at least, not much of it. I’ve been self medicating to relieve some of this anxiety, it seems to be the only thing to alleviate some of this internal & external conflict. It seems to be the only thing that numbs me enough to make life bearable.

I’m ever so worried about school. I’m so close to ending this semester, yet so far away. Although I am doing okay thus far, a lot can change between now and the last few weeks of school. I’ve tried my hardest to complete all my work and for the most part I have. But the pressure keeps
building because there is so much more work to do. I feel a sickness in my stomach most of the time and I’m exhausted. There have been too many late nights with deficient amounts of sleep; there have been too many projects that have left me feeling mentally and emotionally strung out to the point where I want to give up.

A part of me wants to throw my hands in the air and say: fuck it, fuck this, fuck life. I’ve all but blurred the line between sanity & insanity.

I may not be a perfect person but I’m not that bad either. I have a very compassionate heart.

I just need someone to listen; I need some form of a support system. I also need an outlet for this stress.

I don’t know what’s going on between M and me anymore. A part of me wants to give up because it would be easier but a part of me doesn’t. I am so sick of the complications… the ordeal between R and I is also unsettling but necessary. I am clinically depressed and I know it.

In all honesty, the number one contributing factor to psychological problems and disorders IS stress. [There is a difference between problems and disorders, btw] How is it that I can understand the mechanisms behind psychology but I can’t even fix my fucking self? It’s surely out of my hands. I’ve tried to reach out to people but they are too busy with their own lives to see how much I am struggling. I’m always there for them in their most desperate of hours, but it’s too much to ask for that same support.

If I don’t get some form of support or help I don’t think I can manage life for much longer before I have a mental breakdown. I’ve thought about suicide. Not in the sense that I would EVER consider killing myself because I wouldn’t; rather, it’s an escape from reality to imagine nothingness. Sometimes, I almost welcome the thought of death because it’s peaceful. Not the transition into death but the aftermath.

I can’t hold onto this façade much longer. I can’t pretend to be okay to appease everyone.

Darkness doesn't blind me

2009-02-04T22:23:00.005+08:00

I like the dark.

It doesn't lie to me like everything else does.
It doesn't make me believe in stuff that i shouldn't believe.
It doesn't trick me like the light does.
When I'm in the dark, i don't have to pretend to be something I'm not.

So i try to be in the dark lots.It's kinda weird. I know that the sun is supposed to give you energy, but instead it takes away energy from me. It makes me really tired and really warn out. Is it because I'm in the dark so much?When i talk about darkness, I'm not talking about evil or anything. No, i could never be evil. It's too...well...evil.

I used to be scared of the dark when i was little, because i was scared something would jump out at me and kidnap me, but now i would welcome that. Maybe that's why i like the dark so much.

I dunno.

I used to hate the dark, and I'd want to find a way to get back to the light,

but i gave up a while ago.

I don't think there is any chance for me to find the
light.
For me to find happiness.
If there ever was a chance, i lost it.
Along with my hopes, my dreams, and my wishes.

So since i couldn't get to the light, I started to like the dark.

And i think i'll be here for a while...

Never Tried to be Happy (insanity)

2009-02-03T23:25:00.007+08:00

Have you ever felt like there was something wrong, but you couldn't figure out what it was?Yeah. I feel like that about life right now.

There's nothing really bad about my life, it's just...I don't know how...it feels like it's wrong somehow, but...I'm not sure...I can't describe it.

It's like there's colours and everything, but they're all the wrong shade.

Today wasn't that great of a day. I felt horrible all morning. Science 2nd period was really bad. I couldn't concentrate on anything, and I spend the majority of the period sitting with my head on my binder listening to depressing music on my ipod.

Then I wrote this one a piece of paper:

Choking On Sanity

Can't breathe in the fire can't breathe in the fire burning black your lungs to soil and dust nothing left but the EYES. Heart is melting soul disintegrating all that's left is LIES. Watch out for the shadows they're hungry tonight yummy humans crunch crunch crunch the eagle no longer FLIES. Falling to pieces where's the puzzle what's for breakfast bleeding love not enough tears baby CRIES. Why so beautiful out alone fabric prickly against your skin the devil's looking for a soulmate what's the time where'd my shoe go can't run away without any feet mind is all knots and TIES. Tripping down the stairs look the sky is black the sun is white what did you do to me jups off the cliff and DIES.

Yeah...That's about it.

I showed it to two of my friends, and they kinda gave me funny looks. :P Though, one of them liked the "crunch crunch crunch" part. Haha.

So yeah. This morning was horrible. Theology was kinda funny though, because of weird church stories, and there were some funny ones.

I didn't eat lunch. Just a couple things from other people's lunches.

Accounting was okay. We just had our usual exercises.

Fitness was suckish. As it always is. We did some routines, which was kinda fun.

Life kinda sucks right now. But that's my fault.

I've figured out something.

Never have I actually TRIED to be happy. I've never fought the sadness that gets me.

And it'll hurt like hell when I try. I'll have to go against my feelings, which I've never done before. Not really, anyways.

I could be happy if I wanted to...

But I don't.

I just don't see the point of being happy.

Like I said before, everything in this world is wrong somehow...

Everything is the wrong shade.

I just don't see what good will come of being happy in this world.

But I've decided something.

Give me a reason. Give me a reason to be happy, and I will be. I'll try hard to be. Otherwise, I don't see the point in trying. Things are easier for me if I'm...well, whatever I am. If I'm dark like this. It will be hard to be happy, but I'll try if I have to. If I have the motivation needed.
I've been feeling depressed today. And I'm pretty sure it's depression this time. I just didn't care about anything, and I was really tired, and I just wanted to sleep and maybe never get up again.

I dunno.

I'm still really tired. Part of me is always tired. But today for some reason I was really exhausted, even though I got more sleep than usual. I got 5 hours of sleep, when for the past couple of nights I've gotten 3 hours or 2 hours, and all that.

Sigh...

I'm listening to Bella's Lullaby from the Twilight movie. It's really a beautiful song. If a guy ever wrote me a lullaby, I'd love them forever. :P

But that's not ever going to happen, so whatever.

Sigh...

It's midnight. I don't really know what to write about.

I suppose I'll go then.

PS Don't forget to smile :)

I love Buttertoasts!

2009-02-01T02:34:00.004+08:00

It's been forever since I watched Ed, Edd, and Eddy. Sometimes I miss being a kid.

Okay, no I don't. But Ed, Edd, and Eddy still kicks ass.

I went home for the weekeend. Again. I figured I might as well take advantage of it and go home. I had fun, talked with mom, surfed the net, and generally fucked around. It was nice.

My mom prepared buttertoasts for my breakfast. It was tangy, sweet, salty just the way I liked it. I ate Philly Steak Sandwich for lunch, wasn't that good. Sloppy Joe is better.

I really don't have much more to say than that.

***
He was my worst nightmare, he is and will always be. I feel hurt due to an unknown reason. Completely lost and can't handle everything. My body was doing the complete opposite of what my mind was dictating. It was following my heart, it's screams that reached every vein, every artery, every capillary and cell...

Stop.

I can't take it. I need to escape the realm.

I'm head over heels once again.
***

Stream of Conciousness

2009-01-25T13:06:00.007+08:00

Bump bump bump bump bump. Closer. Brett just signed in. Faith's is talking to me. She's having problems. Happy-insane. Sad-insane. How is one happy and insane? Insane and happy. Insane and proud. Recording voices. Danny Fanthom is saying something.

Blublubblublublublub Somebody tell me what's happening here!

The song is almost over. Soon I will have to decide another song. I'm thinking either Depeche Mode or Ingrid. Can't decide which. Synth-pop of nu-classic-math-viking-hair-industrial-goth-goatse-iron-plastic-of-honor metal. Lord of the Rings soundtrack. Bridge of Khazad-dum. Gandalf dies here. No he doesn't. YOU SHALL NOT PASS! One simply does not rollerskate into Mordor. Balrog. Some instrument is playing. I imagine a horn. I've seen all three movies, read all three books. Reminds me of the Tower.

The Tower. Never have I been more curious to see it. Eddie and Susannah and Oy and the others have been travelling for 3,000 pages. Three thousand pages of concrete and steel.

Lord of the Rings. Dark Tower. I like apples. People say you can't compare apples and oranges. Apples are red and non-spherical, oranges are orange and spherical. The running over the bridge. Here Gandalf falls. Damn Balrog.I hope I didn't spoil it. Anyone who reads knows what happens. Harry Potter, VOLDEMORT DIES! Yakety Sax. Could this be the next song? It's been seven minutes. Broken Arrow theme. I like this song. If I didn't, I wouldn't download it.

I need calm. Relaxation. Peace. Salaam. I don't speak Arabic. not muslim. I have enough trouble with my own religion, much less another one. I just deleted a thought. Now I worry if this isn't stream of consciousness. But I don't care. Stream of consciousness, my ass. This is a trickle. Want a stream, reading fucking Valkyries. Want a river, read Witch of Portobello. I could write stream o' consciousness all damn day. I can see how Million Little Pieces was written. It's fun to write what is considered nonsense by the general public and great art by the academics. It's just thoughts. Thoughts. Of drugs. At least for James.

F1. F2. F3. F4. F5. F6. These buttons do something. I'm scared. I want to push the button. I don't want to. The F key is on. Open. New. Redo. Undo. Help. Esc. Esc = Not F.

qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnm

The alphabet in a nutshell. Everything in a nutshell.

MY EYES! SPECTACLES! THEY DO NOTHING!

Rodrigo Real is an innocent man.

Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. I say in water. Compromise.

Leavin' is in my file list. I don't remember downloading it. Jesse Mcartney. Gorgeous. No stress, no stress. Baby you deserve nothing but the best.

My lips are crusty. I licked them. DETROIT LIGHTNING. My shirt. Something Awful.

I am getting tired of writing. My mind could produce another thousand pages of thoughts, but My hands cannot keep up.

AFLAC!

Okay, enough. Let this circle close.

For now...

For now...

Obama gets Inaugurated

2009-01-24T16:40:00.011+08:00

Twentieth of January was a hell of a day..

Our maid got me up around 11 in the evening so I could watch Barack Obama get inaugurated (even though I had my exams the following day). I asked her yesterday to do such, and she did. I was up by 11:30 pm, and fortunately for me Obama was a bit late getting things together.

As for the inauguration, what can I say? It was everything I hoped for and more. Obama gave an excellent speech. Even I felt a bit moved seeing him take the oath of office, despite John Roberts messing up the oath. Millions of people flooded into the Mall in Washington D.C. to see history be made. We now have a black president. It is a historic day. Blacks are celebrating around the nation and the world, and for good reason.

But it isn't just blacks who are happy. Asians, Hispanics, and whites are happy as well. And I'm happy and proud to see this day. I imagine a lot of people are celebrating not because, or not only because, we gained a black president, but because we got rid of a Texas cowboy president. I personally hold no real bitterness toward George W. Bush. I don't think he'll be remembered well by history, though I don't think he'll be remembered as the most evil SOB this side of Hell. Bush to me strikes me as not incompetent or evil, but as simply someone in way over his head. Indeed, I imagine if I had a list of the happiest people at 12:02 AM on January 20, 2009, George W. Bush would be near the very top. For all the pomp and the pride Bush expressed, I think a substantial part of him is wishing he hadn't bothered trying to gain the presidency from Al Gore in 2000. I won't say anything bad about Bush here, as I feel that would not be appropriate for a day like today. There are many legitimate criticisms of Bush's administration, but for now I think Bush should be allowed to go back to Texas and relax for six straight weeks. He's had one of the most stressful and difficult presidencies imaginable, although I imagine Obama's presidency will be even more so for Obama.

I will say that of all the emotions I feel toward Barack Obama, pride, happiness, hope, anxiety, one thing I do not feel at all towards him is envy. I would not want to be president in the best of times, let alone these days. I'm happy where I am, as a mediocre college student and aspiring accountant. I may achieve fame one day as a good old woman trying to pursue her corporate career but I have no interest in entering politics. If nothing else, seeing what happened to my old high school enemy *** ******** should show me what politics can do to a person. However, Obama is a far stronger person than ***, though that's like having a "who rocks harder" contest between Rammstein and the Jonas Brothers, and I think Obama will handle what he has been given quite well. I'm sure there will be things Obama does that I don't like, but I don't expect perfection from anyone.

Expectations are another thing I have noted about today. For practically all of my life that I was aware of what went on in the world, George W. Bush has been my president. He has been the person through which the core principles of the United States revolve. He held all the cards and made all the decisions. (And please resist the urge to say Cheney did that.) I was familiar with Bush and his style of politics. I knew what to expect from Bush. I didn't always believe him or trust him, but I came to be familiar with him and what he did. I always associated "the presidency" with a millionaire oil tycoon with a Texas drawl. Some of you reading this probably think it's scary and sad that I had someone like Bush playing this role. Many of you consider Bush corrupt and/or worse, and probably feel pity for me that this was what I came to expect from my president. Indeed, it was what I came to expect. I am rather cynical about politics. I hope Barack Obama can break my cynicism, but it will take more than a good inaugural speech to do that. I'll wait a good six months, and see how things are then. Six months from now there will still be much needing to be done, but I can at least have a feel for what I can expect from Obama.

Some of you associate great presidents with people like Kennedy and Clinton. Others of you associate it with people like Eisenhower and Reagan. I don't think many associate it with people like George W. Bush, as no matter what Bush's actual merits are, he is unpopular with the American people and the world. I always saw Obama with a mix of suspicion and yet hope. I thought some of his ideas were crazy, though in the sense that some action movie hero says "that's just crazy enough to work". Who knows. Maybe Obama will be able to get us out of the mess we've been in for the past several decades. Bush is by no means the initial cause of most of America's problems. He may have worsened them, but America has been in trouble since my parents were saying about Kennedy what I am saying about Obama.) I read a news a yesterday that America could not solve its problems. I'm still not sure that it can, as saying "yes we can" does not necessarily mean we actually can, but there is a part of me that thinks Obama can pull this off. He is surrounding himself with intelligent people from all political positions. He is intelligent himself and has a deep understanding of the issues America faces. He tends to be rather liberal, though he has many conservatives with him to balance things out, probably an intentional move on Obama's part. Who knows. Maybe America can get itself out of the mess it's in. Stranger things have happened. Then maybe Obama does have a shot at getting America back on its feet.

Stranger things have happened. To Barack Obama, congratulations on this honor. You will make history no matter what ends up happening. You already did make history on November 4th and you did again today. I wish you the best of luck. I may not always agree with you, but you are still my president, and I hope you do a good job. To George W. Bush, I imagine today was a relief to you. Go back to Texas and relax. Maybe someday you can write your memoirs. I'll read them, if nothing else because your presidency always kept me interested in politics, for better or worse. And to America, you are in deep trouble, but deep trouble is not infinite trouble. America has been through a lot over the past two centuries. They fought the British for independence, the White House burn in the nation's infancy in the war of 1812 when our national anthem was penned. We fought against each other for or against the abolition of slavery, probably no one involved suspecting a day like January 20, 2009 would ever come, they fought in the hellish trenches in Europe and in the jungles and deserts of the South Pacific and Africa, they fought a fight in Vietnam knowing we were fighting for nothing and that we could not win, and they fought in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan against an enemy that in one case killed three thousand of American people and in the other did nothing to us. But through all this, through thick and thin, good and bad, prosperous and desperate, they have endured. America has a nightmarish few years ahead, that is assured no matter what Obama does, but we may not be down for the count just yet. I may have been hasty in dismissing America. They were founded on freedom and liberty, and something like that doesn't just die after a couple centuries. America may still have life left in her. I may ultimately be wrong about America's future.

Like I said, stranger things have happened.

Hand's of Fate

2009-01-17T20:27:00.006+08:00

I place myself in the hands of fate
As I drive and contemplate
What events on this night
Let them come as they might.

Down the interstate
Feeling love and hate
Take the back road
Feeling what?s owed.

I'm scared, because this night
Might bring such beautiful light
Or tragedy on such a level
That would make proud a devil.

As I drive, feeling tense
As my emotions grow more intense
Why is it such a long way?
Why does it have to be today?

It's hard to believe
Just before I was to leave
I was watching the news
While I thought about my Muse.

Tonight is a fine time to be alive
I'm sure I will survive
Tonight is just a test
It's all for the best.

Tonight I place myself here
I just want to see him
I hope I am not late
I'm now in the hands of fate.

Problema ala Estudyante

2009-01-15T20:15:00.006+08:00

Time to vent, rant, and bitch. My problems:

1) School. I hate business investment, why can't our professor explain everything to us. So everything would sink in. He's blah blah lulling is so out of control. As if he's an alien trying to be in contact with the homo sapiens...

One more thing pre-finals. Next week. And I haven't done much. Haven't reviewed yet!

2)Social Networking. Well someone had just copied my personal info! What the... I don't want to elaborate much of this thing, i'm starting to hate her... (they call her raiz, haha)

Then there's Multiply. Nice, works well, BUT IS FUCKING SLOW! I CAN ONLY UPLOAD 3
IMAGES IN A NORMAL FUCKING WEEKEND!!!! IF I'M GOING TO POST A PICTURE IN A THREAD, I'D JUST ASSUME IT BE WHILE THE THREAD STARTER IS STILL ALIVE!!!!!!

The Internet is a bigger fucking disaster area than the traffic in Quezon City right now. They rely on pop-up ads, and pop-up ads ALONE!!! OH BOY, LET'S RELY ON THINGS EVERYONE IN THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD HATES!!!! WHAT A GREAT FUCKING IDEA FOR AN ECONOMY!!! No wonder stocks are going down faster than Marian Rivera!

3)Romantic problems. Since I can't visit my lovingly pumpkin. I need to do a lot of stuffs and some video shoots. I miss him a lot.

Isn't life just fucking grand.

That's all for now. I feel a little better, since I got to vent profusely.

I'm Dead

2009-01-10T21:03:00.004+08:00

What is it like to be killed? What would I feel? What would I see? It was a strange thought that had entered my mind. And my body instantly reacted on what my mind was dictating. I stopped in the middle of the highway. Loud beeping of the CR-V is what I heard. I heard my mom talk. But I didn't care. As if I was in a trance. I seem to be somewhere else. Happiness was close by but it was then barred by the car's sudden stop. If the breaks had not been hit. Bliss.

What is it like to see the flashes of the car lights? Hearing the defying silence only? Pain through our bones, the sticky and smelly blood. Bliss once again.

A Dose of Stress

2009-01-06T20:13:00.004+08:00

Indeed, a tiresome day! It has just been a day or two since classes had started and i'm just fucking stressed! After the fun, grand and memorable paskuhan here comes my accountancy days again. Eye bags, body pains, cups of coffees, empty cans of energy drinks. I don't know why I had been in hell for this week... But still I manage to have some fun in class..

"good morning people. oh, asan na si kumpare. late ka, bagong taon ah. index cards please. so we are in chapter 8. what is intelligence. god! stop parroting. explain spearman's theory. what's g and s. *after 10 cards* now there's the tension. i want you to remember this class at 16 the development of the brain stops *gasps!* so you better read the encyclopedia from volume 1-12, as i told you before my professor.. blah.blah.. bell rings, goodbye class, i may give a quiz next meeting and recitation as always." -philosophy

"in the name of the father, the son.. *after the prayer* elasticity is the.. blah.. blah.. *everything seemed slow in economics* ok, you better read chapter 20 and the appendix for additional knowledge" -economics

"pag-aralan ang page 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98 *matapos isa-isahin ang numero hanggang makarating sa 150* ano ang panayam. alam nyo class ang aking thesi ay.. blah.. blah *super high speed talking* bell rings" -filipino

"buenos dias. ok, i wanna see the house of dying and burning. bring out your books. readers in front. so this we discuss... no sir! we did. did i sing the medley to you. yes sir. narration. 7 seconds... sir, isang linggong pag-ibig. 5 stars for your house. bye bye american pie.. chevy.. to the levee.. drinking whiskey and rye.. my father used to sing that song. blah.. blah.. did i sing this, look at the stars.. *cyrill sings with the prof* you know clodplay? shining down on you.. and they are all yellow.. your skin and bones.. there's over 7000 meaning of it in the net. it is a racists song. ok, get a whole sheet of paper, angel quiz.. adios" -english

"if we find the nominal rate of the lender's.. blah.. blah.. use log.. know your gadgets class.. so where are we, hic.. now finding m... *prayer* class over, answer the activities in your books" -investment

It is not a dose of stress really, a dose of laughs! (although i'm really stressed for some reasons)

Why

2009-01-05T16:08:00.004+08:00

Why do we all have the capability to think of how things - might- have been? Why can we not just brush ourselves down and walk on without a care in the world? What possesses us to worry about things that we cant control, or remember how things -were- in the blink of an eye?

Human nature is so... fragile. We can bend and break at any given time and yet... Does anyone really notice? We walk alone through life, looking and searching for someone to share things with, to give ourselves to... And yet, when we find it, we're inevitably fighting the inevitable of being hurt.

Why do some days seem to go slower than others when we think about things that were long gone and gathering cobwebs? What is it that rekindles that light and makes remembrance so powerful, giving us that pestering wonder of "If only this had been different..." or "maybe I could have done better... Done more" ..

Why do we give someone a part of us each time they walk into our life? And why is it so impossible to take it back once they've left?

Why can love be so beautiful, yet soul destroying and so painful to remember?

January Rain

2009-01-04T21:06:00.005+08:00

Sadness hovers me once again. I guess he was and is the reason. I miss him. His absence traps me in a four cornered wall, it makes me lose control... It was just yesterday, we had been together. Spend long walks, played together, went to the cinema, had our laughs and sweet nothings.. And now I'm here, feeling this. I miss the way he calls my name. I miss the way he holds my hands. I miss the way he whispers "i love you". I miss his old jokes and tricks. I simply miss everything about him..

Tonight, I had been struggling to understand what my mind and body were telling me. And right here, I knew what it was. Everything was working together, sending a message to my heart. And now my heart was sending a message to the rest of my body. Pain. Missing him is killing me.

I miss you "my worst nightmare"..

What has it Given?

2009-01-03T09:38:00.005+08:00

What has it given you
nothing but pain

secluded nights
slashed up blood fights
with yourself
from what you see in the mirror

Its taken so much
but the urge wont die away
the anger
the self hate
all the things you wish you could change

You watch the blood drip to the floor
quickly wiped away
feelings of pleasure
start to rise
the depression you live starts to subside

Whats the catch
it sounds so grand;
people,
your friends walking,
running
turning their backs on you
just because they can

Each cut heals and scars
showing your struggle
losing wars till the end;
its in your mind
those rusty blades
the hateful chill down your spine..

Last cause for a Jumper

2009-01-02T15:57:00.003+08:00

A man decides to take his life and he ultimately ruins his free will. I wish I could stop these people. I really do. I cannot help people it lies in them and their friends to fix the small problems that lie within their own self. If I could fix a lonely boy hitting rock bottom I would. I just can’t make a girl like him, I just cant make someone come back when their love has left. I wish I could say that I could make it alright. But I cannot. It lies within you. I have seen boys fall in love and hit rock bottom, cut their wrists open and lay on a floor watching everything they have flow out in a few minutes.

It hurts me to know that they thought that they had no other solution than to end it all. I have seen jumpers jump and for those few seconds they had in mid air I will tell you they had found their inner peace. It was the only peace that some of them found in life. I will tell you that once someone kills themselves in a slow manner the few minutes they have left is the happiest they will ever experience.

Have you ever seen someone in a deep depression? It is one of the saddest things you will ever see. I have seen happy people who were some of the funniest people you will ever meet fall into a depression never to escape. It can happen to anyone. That is the sad part. Notice all the diary entries. Many talk of sad times. I wish it weren't so. People just need to realize that in the search for salvation, they to help themselves. Everything you need to fix your life can be found inside yourself. It is never too late to help yourself and start over. Once you find that life is meant for living you will begin to live it.