Saturday, January 22, 2011

Move Out

I am now updating a whole new set of blogs. I will still be checking up on this account from time to time, though, but not as much. :)

Life as I Know It and Topsy Turvy Me. Tell me what you think!

Saturday, June 26, 2010

To the Man I Loved

There is no such thing as loved, only love.

I have already structured the way this was going to start and end, way before I even decided to write this. I just didn’t know how to construct the body, the raw truth of what this piece is all about. That’s why I always postponed sitting down just to finish this. And now, I’m finally doing it, after one fateful night, not because that night has opened my eyes to certain realities but because it just gave me something to structure this piece from.

To the man I tell myself I loved, I write this just for the sake of it. I’m not putting this out in the open in the hope of receiving something from you. I no longer need anything from you. I thought I did. I thought I couldn’t survive the thought of not having you as my better half throughout the course of my mortal life. Apparently, I could. It took mistakes and a trip down the path of self-finding to lead me to this conclusion.

To the man I built my plans around, thank you for wrecking what i built. I almost lost the independence I claimed I had as a woman before I met you. Every enjoyable activity I anticipated had you in the picture. Dates, random hang-outs conjured out of boredom, and the things I wanted to do before I died had you in them. I managed to paint something that had us two smiling in each event, having fun and enjoying every minute together. One phrase and one word that replied to that phrase just changed everything. I found myself alone, literally alone. Trying to pick the pieces up of the planned out future I had. I stopped planning because I felt it was unhealthy. I decided to let go and take whatever chance seemed within reach. I did things just so that I could still manage to smile. You know what boredom does to me, right? I don’t know if my choices were built around the idea of me feeling sorry for myself but I believed those were baby steps to finding myself. But I didn’t find myself, I found someone else. She was happy, ecstatic, I have to say. A series of wonderful events came. A month without you seemed wonderful. Time away is always what someone needs when she’s in the process of mending wounds, the kind of wounds that can be hidden under layers of clothing but still manage to hurt when you’ve got nothing else to distract you from the pain.

To the man I gave my trust to, I don’t know if I should apologize for the “mistakes” I did. I listened to you and listened well. I may have done things not worthy of a woman who’s in a committed relationship but you never showed qualms. I didn’t do them because I knew you didn’t have the heart to leave me. I knew you could and that you would. I did them because I wanted to know if you were capable of pain and rage. Well, now I know you are. I knew too late. I was conversing with someone last night, because he overheard me saying I was single. He asked about my past relationship and asked what led to its termination. So, I shared about the kiss, that kiss that made my world crash and my heart skip multiple beats. I even ended up not breathing for some time. I didn’t know that could happen. I told him of your disloyalty, the one that you hid from me for the longest time in the hope that it would never be spoken of ever. I found it queer when he asked “Kissing is considered cheating?” When I said yes according to you because you said it so yourself, I noticed that he took a long sip of his drink while trying to hide a laugh that seemed to have a taint of guilt in it. I wondered if he actually did something similar to his girl, the girl that he’s currently so happy with. I did not dare to comment on his reaction anymore and went on sharing what I ended up doing after I found out about what you did. And he almost jumped out of his seat while staring at me in shock. I tried to justify my actions, claiming that I was caught in the middle of a game and that emotions were detached from the situation. He simply remarked, “Everything starts with a game.” And now that I think of it, yes, even if nothing good came from the game I ended up playing, I did realize that things do start once people decide to play. I wondered if indeed, I was the one who was wrong the whole time.

To the man I gave all of me to, I have to admit I wasn’t totally real. I restrained myself from being the kind of person I am because I was scared that if I released my tendencies, I’d end up scaring you away. I stopped myself from being affectionate. I stopped myself from demanding too much from the person who demanded nothing from me but loyalty. Of course, this loyalty you broke as I have said earlier. A certain percentage of my character had to spend its time in the shadows and I had to show the image I thought you liked. Apparently, that was wrong. I almost lost myself, the one thing I promised myself never to lose to whoever no matter what. I wonder if I should regret giving everything to the first man I learned to love or should I just charge everything to experience. And I often wondered if you loved me enough as well. I think too much, I know, but only because things like this don’t operate on the emotional level alone. I created this image of you and worked my personality around that because I thought it would make both of us happy. I was wrong – for the nth time.

Must I hate the choices made that have led me to my current state? Must I hate you for being the kind of person you are? Must I hate myself for actually going as far as losing my pride and independence? I almost lost myself for a short-lived image of forever. The logical aspect of me decided to malfunction at the most awful time, but I can’t blame something as intangible as that. I couldn’t pinpoint anyone worthy of the blame. I’ll charge it all to experience and hide behind these plastic smiles, the kinds that I have molded years ago, way before we shared something. Funny. These smiles were created when you existed in my personal bubble.

To the man I have loved and lost, so far this is all I can say. I write not out of spite. The hurt doesn’t even run through my fingers now and this takes me by surprise because I just seem so detached. My detachment scares me. It’s either I don’t care or I care too much but only differently now. You know I can forgive but not forget. I can smile and pretend I’m ok. Being too honest with everything doesn’t do anyone good. You see what it has done to me. Honesty ruined me. And you did say, some things are better left unsaid. That method worked perfectly on your behalf. I could learn a hundred things from you. I think I should be grateful for the lessons learned. This time, I’m totally spent.

There is no such thing as loved, only love. I never believed in this. But I know that you can love someone even after falling out of love for that person. If the girl who uttered the first statement is right then this is all I can say: To that man I loved romantically, I still love you. It’s either I love you forever in a platonic sense or I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.

Friday, January 29, 2010


I came upon my blog once again just to check if there are any entries to edit, since I don't proof-read before posting, and I came upon a rather old entry entitled Looking Back While I Walk Away . Reading it, I had a very idealistic view of a post-high school life. And now, as I recall the series of events after graduation, I just realized how naive I was. I thought that everything created in high school was as solid and firm as 400-year-old structures, but no, they're stick-weak. College life is hell.


It isn't easy to finish a course and go after a dream, especially if those courses aren't in line with your dream. You'd end up wanting to shift out or give up altogether. A four-year course can actually drag its way to being a six or seven-year one. Women end up getting pregnant. Others simply drop out of school and decide top juggle multiple rakets. And you thought "I'll be [insert profession here] in five years and be rich and I'll travel the world!" Yeah right.


Relationships formed in high school won't directly lead straight to marriage. They're very fragile and once the couple enters the real world, they'll realize their relationship was built on a rather minute foundation and that there are many other opportunities and other people out there. Forever is an illusion. Teenage love is an illusion. A friend says I've become quite cynical lately. Have I? Maybe because despite my claims of being realistic, I was too darn idealistic, a false prophet. Everything is an illusion, everything is hormonal. Well, maybe not everything, but mostly. And even if we tell each other to guard our hearts, chill, look before we leap, and be realistic, we know we never end up listening.


High school statuses can't be kept until college. If you were popular, you can wind up as the next biggest loser. To cope with the boredom and the rut you were thrown into, you try every possible crazy thing. But seriously, would you actually look back and like what you see? And to beat boredom and loneliness, just to leave the rut you have been stuck in, you keep yourself busy, so as not to wander on bad thoughts and deeds. But being busy would end up making you stressed and you'd wonder if this was what you wanted. We try to make a name for ourselves, but that will be hard, especially if you're in a world with more players to take that title from you. This game of status-finding is a difficult one. And sometimes, to have a name, is to make crazy choices just to be known.


I don't like leading an uneventful life. And I welcomed college life with so much enthusiasm and excitement that I wanted to try EVERYTHING. I guess my definition of everything stretches from zero to infinity. Freshman year was eventful. It was fun. But then everything died down in second year. The first sem events were fun, I honestly have to say, but they didn't last and I ended up in a lot of trouble because of them. I spent most of my days propped up on my bed, in front of the laptop watching and rewatching movies, How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory, America's Best Dance Crew, Glee, Gossip Girl, 90210, Bleach, and just about anything my latop has saved in it. I'd play Plants vs. Zombies again and again, just trying to fill every space in my Zen Garden. I took a part-time job but I wasn't happy with it, and actually didn't save enough. STUPID. I'm that bored. So, I welcomed UAPSA-UPD and the possible ASC position into my life. I need to socialize, to leave my room's four walls (but first, I have to leave my bed). I walk home alone, eat in my dorm room alone, go to the grocery alone, window-shop sometimes alone, commute alone, go to and leave class alone, study alone. I don't even watch TV, that's why I don't know what's the latest in the lives of celebrities or the PBB housemates. I watch TV for American Idol, though. I don't want to get into the details of the life I'm leading but I'm not liking it. I'm not very happy. I'm just thankful I've got friends to keep a smile alive. 'Cause this life is crap.

So, anyway, after bein thrown out into the real world, from the sheltered grounds of high school and home, you'll realize that everything that you have imagined was nothing but simply optimistic illusions. Life doesn't throw you lemons to make lemonade. It throws you crap, and what are you supposed to do with that?

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Pure Love

The night skies are always beautiful. Glistening little specks twinkling against the perpetual darkness, one never overpowering the other, each pretty in their own unique way. Twinkling little blues, yellows, and whites. I looked at the crescent moon, lying down, looking at a smile. And I remember someone telling me that it would have been nice to see two stars above that crescent glow to mimic the smile I had on my face that night. I look up to watch the moon at it's prettiest and think, yeah, it would look great to see two stars above it, like the sky is smiling down at me. But everytime I look up, the crescent stands alone, looking like a glaring grin staring down at you, mocking your loneliness, because he, too, stands alone in the sky's black pool. What a selfish desire the moon has. But I can't blame him if he didn't have friends along with him in the sky, unlike the stars. So, I respect his loneliness, let it mock mine and a million other's. He is still beautiful. The nightsky will always be beautiful. The cool breeze, the cold touch of the grass, the silence in the air. It's beauty in a very natural form. It's love at its purest, in its most pristine form. So, I look up, sigh, and smile. Mock me, if you must, moon. As the earth revolves and the day pass, you'll soon lose your mocking smirk and end up a gaping hole in the sky. The stars will still be twinkling pretty specks, the breeze will still be cool, the grass will still feel like a cold blanket against my skin, the silence will forever exist, and I will still smile.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Here's Looking At You

Did you ever think that maybe you're the one with the problem and not them? Have you ever thought that maybe it was you who had the misconceptions all this time but you were too arrogant to actually look at the mirror, believing you were fine to begin with, so instead, you'd directly blame your anger on someone else, on him? Well, wake up. You're not as perfect or wondeful as you think you may be. Beneath that smile and "nice" personality, lies some crap you don't want the world to actually see. Here's to looking at you, you selfish woman.

You can't expect him to give you the attention you want. You can't expect that boy to actually get you, you know what I mean? To him, you brushing your hand against his doesn't mean you want him to hold your hand, it's just your hand brushing against his. To him, you feeling all chilly doesn't translate to "Can you hug me?" but rather, "Brrr, it's freakin' cold." To him, awkward silences do net tell him that you want to cuddle up and hear him say those three words with eight letters. Hell, even Blair Waldorf had to almost beg Chuck Bass to spit those words out. And to him, you talking about guys you're into doesn't tell him that you're playing his game since he also loves to talk about girls who are hotter and prettier than you, it just tells him, "Dude, we're just the same!" [I don't know if the girls he's talking about are really hotter than you, but if he talks about them with so much enthusiasm and only complements you when you're wearing something really nice, which I know is rare, then I guess they are.] Maybe next time, if you want to get what you want, maybe you should be vocal about it. They say so, themselves, if you want something, tell them. C'mon, you expect him to understand your signs and gestures? And when he doesn't? What, you'll try to make a scene, make a fuss about it, and when he still doesn't notice, you'd get so pissed off? And him, seeing you getting so pissed off, he's wonder, "Where'd I go wrong? What'd I do?" And you, being the selfish, uncompromising b*tch that you are, you'll get pissed because he's so lost. It's your fault he's lost. It's your fault you didn't tell him, "Hey, I want your attention now. Can't you show the people around us that I'm someone special to you and that you need to spend quality time with me?" Wait, don't tell me you couldn't tell him. Oh right, you don't want to because you don't want to come out as a selfish and possessive woman. Well, guess what, you are, ok? You may try to hide it all you want and let the years pass, letting all that anger of not getting what you want eat you while him and everybody else are enjoying their own happy lives because you are just too scared to actually show them how ugly your personality is. And you get pissed off when he, especially, doesn't get you. Of course, because he basically doesn't know you. And heads up on the male species, almost every sign would either mean what it looks like or register a "What does it mean?" to them. Why do you think many teen magazines show a girl how to make a guy fall for her? Duh, they're signs that a guy doesn't understand but get turned on with. They aren't Psychology majors so why treat them like they are? Him, that boy you've been annoyed with for a long time now doesn't read signs. And you wonder how he actually gets the girls, how he got you? Let's just say, to make you feel a little bit better, he knows how to play the gettin', just not the keepin'. If you want him to know how to keep you, happy and contented, admit that you are selfish. Admit that when he's around, you want him to be beside you, talking to you, his arm wrapped around your waist, sending a message, "Yeah, we're an item." Tell him straight to his face that you want a hug or some display of affection. Instead of waiting for him to hold you hand, hold his. What's stopping you? You have every right to do that, and no social rule says you can't do that. You tell people that if you want something you have to do something to attain it, waiting won't get you anywhere. Well, you're a false prophet for actually uttering such lines when you yourself have also been waiting. You call someone else pathetic for waiting, look here, dear, you're just as pathetic, if not more, as that person you have been insulting. Walk your crappy talk and maybe you'll earn the right to those words.

You know you're a jealous, possessive, and aggressive woman, so live up to those characteristics and maybe you'll be happier. Maybe you won't get so pissed off that easily. And maybe, you'll finally get what you want. And you wouldn't have to reach for your cellphone to look for another being of the opposite sex to release your anger upon over a few bottles of beer.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Imma Be

Major achievement to date! I jogged half (or almost half) of the academic oval! Okay, maybe it isn't a big deal to those who can actually jog the whole oval nonstop but this is to me 'cause I've never was able to do it before. Who knew it was possible for me? Yehess. I managed to do something good for myself. Wait, I can't go on writing this post since I have another paper to do for Write Well. Yehp. I'm back on the part-time writing business. I went back last night actually and now Ma'am Vange gave me another assignment. Of course, I couldn't finish it by 12midnight. 12 pages. Hello! So, anyway, this post is just too informal. I gotta go and check out that paper I have to do...
But, first, I wanna share this: I'm just so happy that I'm actually going back to doing stuff for myself. I'm working to earn a little bit of cash (840 for 48 hours? Not bad), and I'm actually doing what I told myself I should be doing, EXERCISING. So, yes, my endorphines are making me happy right now. I actually smiled a while ago when I went past a quarter of the oval and wasn't stopping. I won't stop smiling. I'll keep myself busy because this is what makes me happy. I'm just recovering from Math53 depression, soar throat, and a cold. Thank God I'm getting better.

Imma Be by BEP was the last song that played on my MP3 before I reached my room. I found it very apt for the thoughts I had.

Imma be BETTER.
Imma be HAPPY.

Ciao, beautiful people. Gotta start workin.'

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Thought Overflow


I ask myself, when was the last time I wrote something for my blog? No, the "Rants" [a semi-private entry] isn't counted. I mean, something serious and substantial. "Rants" was serious but purely void of positive substance. I have to say, it's been a long time. It's been a long time since I sat down and poured my heart out in a proper manner. I know I should be studying right now. I don't want to fail Math but how can I study when my head is just filled with too much thoughts? I have to release them somehow because it's starting to get stuffy here in my dorm room. I don't know how to sugarcoat or creatively say this but I WANT TO GO HOME.
Seeing "my little bro" last weekend made me realize just how much I missed him. I travelled all the way to Makati just to spend my morning with him. I have to say, he was my first guy best friend in high school. I first found him quite annoying, actually, to be honest, but now, I really treasure him as a friend. He's the only guy I could hug, cuddle up to, hold hands with, and say "I love you" to a million times without ever falling for him. Same thing with him. Heck, I believe I can be a hell lot sweeter to him than to any other guy and we can bet on that. There's just "too much friendship going on" as we both put it, and I'm glad because I wouldn't want it any other way. He's in Davao, so ever since I flew to Manila for college, I always yearned for a huge bear hug. Swear, only HE can give me the perfect bear hug. Sucks that I have to wait till I'm in 5th year to actually get more regular hugs from him. There's no one to bear hug here in Manila. Plus, everyone must know by now that my latest best friend just flew back to Davao. Great. No one to run to to share about what happened during my day. No one to text and ask favors from. No one to talk to about hot guys or girls or Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother. No one to share "extreme awesomeness" with. GREAT. I've got friends here, but come on, sometimes, nothing beats best friends. Oh right, I've got my "soulmate" here but he's also so busy with his life that we only get to see each other after certain classes that we share.
I don't know why I'm thinking about all of these stuff. I have many friends, why am I so sad that I'm far from a mere tiny percentage of the population I consider friends? I don't know. All I know is, I wanna go home to them. I want someone to give me the bear hugs that I want, bear hugs that I have been having for 5 years. I want someone to go to to talk about the most mundane stuff ever. Plus, I want to go home to my family. I want to hit places with my sister again, go shopping, or chilling at coffee shops. I want to go home to my cousins and party the night away (since, ahem, they aren't visiting me anymore. haha). I'm just waiting for this year to end.
Well, I'm not all that depressed, really. I've got friends just a few minutes away from my dorm. I've got friends in my dorm. I've got friends in my college. I've got friends in... oh no, wait, let's double check that. So, there.


Oh, another thing, I want to share something about me [yes, I'm that vain] but I just don't know how to put it. If you know me very well, you must know that I've been very different from who I was before. Or, I'm still the same old person, with a few tweeked perspectives, and new habits. I am not perfect, so not everything I do is right, and not everything I do will end up pleasing all of you. Maybe I should change, maybe I shouldn't. I'm slowly changing actually, I'm this butterfly with weirdly constructed wings that's trying to push its way out of its cocoon. It's a slow and tiring process and as I check the "beauty" of my wings, I don't know if should hate it or love it because it's different. With every push I make to leave my cocoon, my wings change their color. I am still overwhelmed with the change that's happening to me. Good or bad, I'm not complaining because this is where I wanted to be, this is what I wanted to be. Things have gone awry, I've noticed that and pondered many times but I can't cry over spilled milk. I can't sit and hope that there's a miraculous time rewind. That will never happen. Time moves forward, it never looks back, so I might as well do the same. I'll smile things off. It may not be my thing, but change is good. Whatever may have happened to me happened for a reason, a reason chosen by the hands of fate and I am not one to defy that. I may defy the government, my parents, or society, but I cannot defy fate. So, hakuna matata and may mercy rest upon my soul and what's yet to come.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

When I Want Both

Is loving two infidelity? Is keeping both loves selfishness? Should you let go of one? But what if both make you happy? Is it a sin?
For years now, I have been caught in between two. They didn’t fight over me. My relationship with both was smooth-sailing. I spent my days with one, my nights with the other. That seemed pretty fair. I was happy with both. The 1st was my high school love, though. But even that time, I was already spending time building the 2nd. Upon I spent happy months in the 1st relationship established until the other came calling. The 2nd was accompanied by my closest friends and they wanted us to hang out more. They took the majority of my time. And there, my 1st relationship started dying. Did I want it back? At that moment, no. I was so happy with the 2nd, why bother? 10 months of happiness. Then I wanted to break off, for some particular reasons. I missed the 1st. I wanted to fix what was lost. Stupid me. I left my 1st to die covered with cobwebs now I want to brush them all off and fix stuff. But did I have to choose? A friend told me I didn’t have to. I can have both. I thought I should only have a heart for one. He said it wasn’t necessary. So, I decided to keep both relationships. It was a risk but I compromised.
it was Dad who reintroduced me to the 1st that I established a relationship with. He texted me saying that he wanted to show me something. So I went to JB Music, where my Dad was waiting for me and he gave me a huge grin and showed me his surprise. I stared in shock. There he stood, white and beautiful, waiting patiently for me, only for me. Dad asked me if I wanted him, I asked if it was ok to him, all he said was “I’m game if you’re game.” I said I was and that’s where things rolled. I was given my 1st guitar, my 1st electric guitar. It wasn’t any of my Dad’s hand-me-down acoustics. It was a white Fender Squier. And it was mine. But that time though, I was still hooked with dancing so my enthusiasm for my Fender (Which I wanted to name Skye) wasn’t very high. This hurt Dad, of course, but I tried my very best to play with it. It was my very 1st. I gave up on dancing as I slowly got reacquainted with playing the guitar. Skye will be coming to Manila by July and I’m so excited. But could I handle dance and Skye at the same time? Could I dance with hip-hop and play Skye’s strings and give both the same amount of lobve and time? It’s worth a try. I am not supposed to choose, I don’t want to choose because both have my heart and I cannot live with just one.

A Love Left

I told myself I was leaving for good. I said I was no longer coming back. I was finally turning my back, trying to show the world that I was strong enough to leave one of my greatest loves. It was for my good, I say, and also for my academics and my relationship with my parents. Ever since I fell in love, my academics were jeopardized and I had constant fights with my parents to the point of me breaking down on the phone while talking to them asking for their understanding and acceptance. Dad finally gave in. But as the months passed by, I thought was it all worth it? Was this relationship something I wanted to keep till forever died out? I decided to seek some advice and one afternoon, while having a coffee break with mom, I finally broke the news to my mother. She was shocked by my decision. I was shocked, too. I told her I wanted out after all those months where I tried to gain their approval and now that I finally have it, I’m telling them I want out. I explained my side, the pros and cons and she just listened and after my long speech she simply said, “It’s a good thing you finally realized that.” It felt weird to say that I was finally breaking off. I didn’t know how to tell the person concerned. I didn’t know whose heart would have been broken in the process once I utter the words “I’m leaving.” But I finally managed to do so. I left and walked away.I didn’t feel hurt or lonely. Up until now.
I didn’t do anything or looked at anything that reminded me of that relationship, until I opened my laptop and decided to check out some old files. I popped in a burned VCD given to me by a friend on my 18th birthday. I watched the videos I used to enjoy, of certain memories I had linked to what I had before. And that’s when it hit me. I wasn’t ready to end our relationship. I wanted it back. But was I willing to go through all the hardship again? I didn’t know. But was I willing to return to the happiness I felt? Yes. Was I willing to go back because of the reason I entered the relationship for in the 1st place? Yes.
I’m still unsure until up to this moment. There are still many things I can’t accept. But I know that my heart is still attached. I left a part of me there and I want it back. I want everything back. I want them back. UP Street, I still miss you. I still love to dance. I came to UP in hope that I could soon bear the title as UP Street Dance Club member. I took a chance, was given the opportunity, hurdled the trials, and now I’m letting go? I don’t know what seems right. But many stuff at this moment are pointing to a yes, I have to go back. I just hope I have enough will power.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Becoming Female

Someone once shared a story about a girl, about her youth years back. She had ambitions, just like any girl would. She did a lot in her youth, did numerous things that she personally enjoyed. She was into radio and stuff like that. She also had certain dreams of becoming a teacher, to the point of going back to school to prepare herself for that desired career. She did it well, and was off to take the licensure exam. For someone who had the will, you just might think that her story ended the way she wanted it to. But, sadly, it didn't. She had to give everything up. She didn't end up working. She stayed home and became a mother. Why? She fell in love. And she gave up everything out of LOVE. Was she happy? Yes, but she could have been happier.
The moral of the story? That someone said, "When you fall in love, don't give up everything, especially your career." And that person's point hit me so hard that I was compelled to be more driven.
Women have always had this certain image: They grow up, find a man, fall in love, get married, and be a mother. There was a certain period wherein women who were unmarried in their thirties and forties were found weird. Women were supposed to be married and taking care of the family, that means staying home. Men have always been the ones who were supposed to work and support women and children. They were the ones everyone was supposed to depend on. Off they go in their uniforms while their wives (who are in aprons) and kids wave them goodbye. But women have learned to pick up the reigns and ride the winds of change. Women can work. They can go do whatever they want with their lives and not get married till they die. They can go out on late nights to party and work their ass off the next day and reap the fruits of their labor come month-end and spend it all again. Women can be independent. They should be.
It hurts a man's ego when a woman has a higher position than him. It's embarrassing to him when his wife is the woman supporting their family. And it crushes them to know that a woman can live without them, as a whole independent individual. Men are idealists, most do not welcome change. But it's the 21st century, it's about time they swallow their pride and welcome the new era with humility.
I, personally, will not succumb to the ideal image of a woman. I know what I want and not even love will stop me. If a man cannot take the fact that I'm going to try my best to be what I want to be even if he is around, he is welcome to walk away. I don't need someone who's going to suffocate me and not allow me the same rights and privileges he enjoys. I am strong-willed. I am ambitious. I am female. Complete and strong enough to be independent.
And so, you wonder, who taught me all this?

My mother.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Ban Stereotypes! For Pisay, with love

After years, I will finally touch on the issue that seemed to disturb me ever since: Stereotypes. It was never really a big deal before. Stereotypes were just stuff I see in movies where they categorize people as jocks, the popular kids, the wannabes, the nerds, the band geeks, etc. The Philippines didn't have such, if it did, it's a low-class replica. C'mon, admit it, people try their best to emulate what they see on American movies, but, sorry, citizens of this third world country that I love, we end up like wannabes compared to them. Anyway, this stereotyping thing is popular in high school. Every typical high school would have their categories and levels in the social hierarchy. But I banished all this crap because I went to a not-so-typical high school. I went to Philippine Science High School - Southern Mindanao Campus **watch me gloat**. So, in a school that requires its applicants to take two entrance exams and pass both, we could definitely conclude that this school does not house the typical jocks and popular airheads, right? And due to the existence of these entrance exams and the exclusiveness of the institution, the Non-Pisayans/Phisciers/Pisay Staff label us NERDS. They think that Philippine SCIENCE High robs a teenager of his/her chance to lead a normal high school life, that it will push its students to study, study, and study. Sadly, this is the opposite. Let me bring the Phisciers out into the light.
This is the life of a typical Pisay student: she would stroll down the pathwalk towards her classroom. As she enters the room, she would notice that all her classmates are seated, their hands busy writing things on sheets of intermediate paper, in other words, cramming homework . Ms. Pisay student would then realize that she had forgotten to do her HOMEwork, so she's rush to her seat and search for someone willing to have his/her assignment copied or plagiarized. (NOTE: any Pisay student would use his/her breaks to cram homework, lab reports, and class presentations.) When that's done, she would go through her classes normally, not listening to the teacher. She'd be chatting with friends, doodling, dozing off, or texting. Then "bam!", a surprise quiz! Out comes the notes and she breezes through them hoping she'd get the necessary information then she prays that she miraculously passes.
Finally, dismissal time. Where to go? The gym to play ping-pong or volleyball or watch the BAPS boys play? The canteen for a snack? The ABD or kiosks to relax and chill with friends? The White House (w/c has been beige for years) to eat or just hang out and wait till your carpool or ride home leaves? Or the mall to just hang out till your parents send you a text telling you to come home? Any sounds enticing, all a far cry from studying. Why study tonight when you've got tomorrow? Besides, there's no exam tomorrow, and if there's a quiz, there's always 3-5 minutes before the quiz to scan your notes, if you have any.
Yes, this is the life of the Pisay scholar, the Nerd as people have labeled. You say that Pisay robs its students his/her chance to live normally? I beg to differ. Since we know we have brains, why just bank on that? Aren't we all multi-angled and multi-talented? Being just smart is BORING. Being a typical nerd is BORING. So, here we go, exploring. And hail the hundreds of musicians, athletes, and performers (singers, actors, dancers). Behold people who can make beautiful stage plays, scripts, dances, and song performances. Behold the thousands of camwhores and vain people. Pisay didn't mold us to be diligent and responisble. I'm sorry, but in Pisay, we learned to procrastinate, plagiarize, and work under pressure. Oh, and we learned to break away from stereotypes and show the world that we were equipped with more than just brains. Take a look at this:

Who said we were robbed of a normal and fun high school life?
If that ain't fun and normal enough for you, then I don't know what normal is.

Sunday, August 10, 2008


I couldn't help it. I have to write this down lest I want to burst into a gazillion pieces. I need to let this out. But even if I do, I don't think this feeling will ever go away. Well, I don't want it to, even if it drives me crazy. Sounds ironic, huh? I just can't help it. I finally found happiness.

This is coming from a former emo kid. I wasn't really emotive hardcore, maybe halfway there. But I wasn't happy before. Hell, I felt that I lost grip of everything. I turned to other avenues and sources for happiness. Yeah, I became happy, but it wasn't the kind I was looking for. I wanted something more. So, I kept looking. I kept searching. And I kept making mistakes. Until that fateful day in January, the day I had an epiphany. I learned, suddenly, I didn't know why and how, I just did. Maybe because I kept praying to God all those times. The process to happiness wasn't easy. it felt like I was feeling worse. But something or Someone told me it was necessary. I thought, hey, this might not give me the results I wanted. But, then, "Let go and let God." So there, I went on with what felt right and necessary. And the weight I used to feel began to leave me. I was feeling lighter and lighter. It was alien, it was wonderful, it was exhilirating. i smiled -- for real. My life alteration went on and I could say that I was a reformed emo kid by February to March. I was truly happy. I didn't know how to explain such happiness. It was just too much. I've been searching in the wrong places, neglecting the place where true happiness resided: within. It is only when you achieve internal happiness that you'll appreciate and accept true happiness given by others. My summer was pretty boring, but at least I wasn't sad. Happiness was there. And I fell in love with it.

It's blissful to be in love. Remember the song Bubbly? The song states the sensations when you're filled with so much love and bliss. It's wonderful to think that this world is just so beautiful. I wasted so much time on useless things. But I have no regrets. If I didn't go through what I went through, I wouldn't feel these emotions. I wouldn't cherish what I have now. I finally got what I want. I'm finally where I want to be. And I'm not letting go. =)

So, to the emo people out there, cut it out. Smile. Smile for real. Don't be afraid to take that risky step of self-discovery. Don't be afraid to go after your dreams. Don't be afraid to make life utopic. Go ahead. Fall in love.

Fall in love with Life. =)

Saturday, May 31, 2008

thanks to Mila

Wow. Thanks to Mila's poem, I went back to reading the post that was related to it. Again, it was some frustration I had but I guess I'm over the frustration, a bit. I shall care not about people who can't appreciate the beauty a certain few can. By the way, world, Myspace is the home of many who seek recognition. I've got those with downloadable songs in Fragile Rainbow. I will add more when I find more. =)

Oh, well. To Mila, thank you! I really liked how you made a poetic piece out of my musical frustration. XD

And yes, Kim, go underground.

By the way, Forever Always is in need of a guitarist or drummer. :o Like the Philippines will care. XD


At last, the results of our Kalayaan applications have been released and I'm relieved to know that many of us were accepted into the freshie dorm! Hooray! I'm quite excited. Now, I'm thinking once again about the things I'll be bringing with me as I enter the dorm. Yes, clothes, toiletries, and school materials are basics, but what else? I listed them down out of fun. =)
* Pail & Dipper --> these, as I have been told, are essential to any dormer's stay in Kalayaan due to the water shortage.
* Sharpie --> dearies, it's a must to label everything you own. Your pail, dipper, clothes, and even maybe, your food, too. XD
* Little guitar --> I might get bored. This is for those out-of-boredom jamming moments.
* Tabs --> in case I'll forget a few songs on the guitar
* MP3 player --> hello, boredom kills.
* Magic Cards --> yeah, I'm no geek (patama sa ilan diyan. Peace, my Magic geek friends). Just in case I feel like playing there. :o
* Magazines & Books --> again, another boredom buster.
another boredom buster --> Giann's player. ;P

They're mostly boredom busters. I mean, I have to treat the dorm my new home for the meantime. Hello, I'll be there for about 10months, right? I need to feel at home.
So, what do you intend to bring?ΓΌ

Monday, May 19, 2008

Vanity Issues

I have some of my days wondering if I'd ever be a model. Every model I've seen is beautiful. They're tall and thin. I look at myself and think I just may not make the cut. I'm a big girl and every model I've seen on the catwalk and on the glossy pages of magazines have bodies that are to-die-for. Literally to-die-for. In a business that promotes reed-thin women, I'm crap.

Beauty, as shown by the media, is synonymous to tall and thin. Well, you don't necessarily have to be pretty, just THIN. THIN is acceptable. THIN is perfect. And due to all this, women all over the world starve themselves. Why do you think women become slaves to the treadmill? Why do you think we have numerous cases of anorexia and bulimia? You can't blame these young women. Blame the fickle industry called show business. This industry tends to shun women who actually have meat on their bones. Tell me, have you ever seen a stocky woman dominate the catwalk?

Women of size want to prove that big women are beautiful, too. That they, too, can be images of perfection. Reed-thin women don't constitute to the majority of the world's population and promoting such women would only make the majority feel awful. They'd think I'm not pretty/beautiful/svelte enough.
Have you ever watched "Make Me A Supermodel?" Jen, a meaty woman was able to enter the final four, thanks to her supporters. This shocked the panel of judges. They have said that she can't be a ramp model. Sure, she has a lovely face but as one of the judges said, "You will never be a supermodel." And why not? Because she has fat? She has a body that doesn't look so fragile? Because she's the kind of beautiful your fickle industry doesn't accept? You could see the utter shock and disappointment on the judges' faces as this not-so-typical model actually makes the cut. She's just one of the few who immersed themselves in a kind of industry that could crush your dignity.

Modeling is a mean business. One of the other models (a guy) actually called the average-built Jen OVERWEIGHT. Excuse me? Just because she has a body that isn't malnourished-looking as the others, she's overweight (Read: She's tall, just gave birth, and has a waistline of 29in)? Wake up, world. Beautiful doesn't mean thin. They were never synonymous. Don't make the billions of women out there who are beautiful the way they are miserable.