It gets worse before it gets better

It gets worse before it gets better. This is what I tell myself every morning when I wake up finding two or three papules sprouting from a last one that just healed. It gets worse before it gets better. This is what I tell myself when I look into the mirror and feel absolutely repulsed by the person looking back. It gets worse before it gets better. This is what I tell myself every time I’m tempted to slip away into a daydream that I know will always be just a daydream.

It gets worse before it gets better.

Sometimes I wonder if my face is a reflection of my life. And maybe, in some weird, scientific fact connecting hormones to oil production to psychological stress, it probably is. All I know right now is that when I’m happy or disgustingly in love, my face is a ray of sunshine—all clear and pretty. Even though my skin is far from perfect, I don’t give it much thought because I’m somehow convinced by the proverbial “when you think you’re pretty, other people will too.” Usually, my life’s a breeze too when I feel beautiful. Though there are the occasional glitches and power outbreaks, I usually just sit and smile through the temporary stop and pray to God that everything will run smooth again. And when I’m lucky—which I usually am—they do.

But now. My life feels so broken, I’ve almost given up hope that anything could be done to repair it again. And maybe even then, it won’t run the same way. The question that’s been eating at me right now is—how did I get here? Why did I become so sad and so lonely?

Looking back, I guess part of it is because of the psychological damage that comes with the breakouts. I’m pretty big about looking pretty because I know I will never ever live through my life without proving to myself and others that what that stupid boy said in the movie theater wasn’t true. Yes, I may be shallow, but if you were told that you were extremely ugly and fat, wouldn’t you be? Wouldn’t you spend the rest of your life wondering if that is true? Wouldn’t you try everything to make yourself feel otherwise? And yes, that is exactly why I’m losing weight. That is exactly why my life has gone to a halt now that I’m breaking out like hell.
But I guess the bigger part of why I’m suddenly empty is because of love. And isn’t that always the reason? Always?

I should probably stop ranting since I’ve experienced “unreturned feelings” one too many times. But this . . . it’s the worst heartbreak yet. And I’m just so lucky that it had to happen at the same time as my downward spiral. Talk about pretty timing.

There are so many things I’m unsure about my life right now: Should I quit my job? Should I go home and rest for a year? Why am I not studying for that board exam? Am I going to top it? Am I going to even pass? Does anyone love me? Why doesn’t he love me? Do I look disgusting to other people? Am I sick? When will these zits go away? How may pounds have I lost? How many more pounds do I have to lose? Should I go back to school? And if I do, would I still be smart?

So many fucking questions. I wish I knew the answer to just one of them. Yet there is one thing I don’t doubt, this one thing I’m absolutely sure of: I love him. I fucking love him.

I want to hold on to those feelings, those warm tingles that remind me life is still beautiful. But even they have left me cold. And those same feelings that once made me so alive and gave me beautiful dreams that got me through awful days—they’ve turned into ugly, calloused hands violently wrapped around my neck, choking me to death under the illusion of gentleness. Yes, even the love I feel for him has turned ugly. Along with everything else in my life.

In retrospect, I rise above these emotional stupors eventually. After a good book or a warm hug from someone I miss or the smell of sunshine at home, these ugly feelings eventually just come off and I just find myself happy again. So far, this is all that gets me through these days—the thought that I’ll come around someday. My birthday is coming, and I want to be back when I turn twenty-one. I want to face another year in my life with a smile, with gratitude and appreciation and happiness. I want to feel alive again.

But until that day comes, I’ll just hold on to these words and to the people that still give meaning to my life. I’ll be waiting.

Rain

In my dream, I was dancing in the rain. Naked and shameless. I don’t know what that means, but something tells me it’s finally time to let go. I know I promised to wait until my birthday, but it’s getting harder every day. And there really is no point in hanging around anymore when I’m practically, absolutely sure that whatever it was that I felt existed between us was merely an illusion—one of the stories my mind desperately weaves when I’m feeling beautiful but lonely.

Now that I feel horrible—with my recent breakouts and this feelings of emptiness following me like a shadow—the story’s finally beginning to crumble, and I can see us for what we truly are: nothing. All those messages, those dates that aren’t even dates, those accidental touches, they’re now just part of the huge dagger that life thrusts into me further every waking day. They’re all just figments of happiness that are now long past. They are no longer real.

I can’t remember the last time I was happy. Sure, there are people who make me smile every day, but there is a special kind of happiness that only I myself can conjure. And I’m discovering that I can’t do that anymore. I’ve lost that magic, that innocence, that sight of something wonderful at the end of the day. I feel so lost, so empty, so away from myself. Is this what they call depression?

God knows how much I’ve been praying for something to make me alive again—music, poetry, a boy, anything. But I’m still slumped and useless, all my insecurities and self-reservations eating away with what’s left of my pride.

And maybe what I do need is the rain. A cleansing, some sort of renewal. Maybe I just need to get home desperately, to be in a place where there is sunshine and familiar faces and family. Maybe I just need to get away, for a while. To forget. To heal.

That Moment

We are swimming in this crowd of strangers, of faces I’m suddenly finding myself looking at as an excuse not to look at you. You walk quietly beside me, your arms swinging dangerously close to mine; and when the occasional person who wants to get past us unintentionally shoves you toward me, some of your fingers meet the skin of my hand, leaving a trail of a slight tingle, resembling a kiss.

I get a good enough reason to look at you. You give me one of your awkward smiles—eyes twinkling, teeth bare, cheeks sinking into that dimple where I’m sure you hide some of your secrets. I give out a small laugh, a constricted sound somewhere along annoyance, embarrassment, and frustration. It’s not one of my genuine laughs; it’s a laugh that I unconsciously make when I want to say something and decide against it.

We walk, but now I can’t take my eyes off your hands. Your hands are the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen, and I keep coming up with excuses to touch them without you suspecting that I want to. I love your long fingers, and I often dream of them entangled in mine. They must be soft and strong and safe. That’s how you make me feel. Safe. I love your clean-cut fingernails too. They tell me so much about you as a boy—how different and how strange and how appealing you are to me. I’m probably drawn to your silence, to your almost hateful indifference, to the peace that emanates from your presence. But what I love, most of all, is the protrusion of veins that snake from the middle of your arm to the point where your fingers start. I’ve always had a thing for them—not exactly a fetish, but a longing or a wish or an out-of-this word fixation. They are what caught my attention. They are what makes me see you differently from anyone else. They are what makes you a man in my heart. They are one of the many reasons why I love you.

Silence. People say it’s sometimes comforting, but it never is between you and me. Everything else—the voices of people, the whoosh of paper bags, the electric creaking of escalators, the impatient brush of shoes against marble, the indistinct buzz of the outside traffic—is drowned out, sucked by the thin thread of space between the right sleeve of your black shirt and a disobedient strand of my hair. And now all I can really hear is the sound of your jeans when they collide when you walk, the gentle, seemingly calculated steps your slipper makes on the floor, the beep that the keypad of your cell phone produces when your fingers fastidiously press on them, the occasional huff of your breath. And suddenly, it looms visibly, so unmistakable, so clear. It’s the cruel distance between us.

“They’re not coming.”

You manage to say it matter-of-factly, but there is a tinge of disappointment in your voice. Maybe not a tinge. You’re probably very disappointed that you’re stuck with me, that our other friends couldn’t be with us. You probably don’t want some friend or acquaintance to see us together because you know they’ll assume we’re on a date. A date. Will you ever take me out on a real date?

But I guess I’m not really your type. Compared to other girls, I don’t really think I hold a candle in the physical department. That’s what kind of sucks though. You’re not exactly my type either, and here I am, devouring every nicety of every moment, desperately rummaging my brain for something cool to say, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear like a crazy, unbelievably obvious, lovesick teenager. But I guess that’s why I know my feelings for you are real. I don’t care anymore if I slip into one of those helpless romantic archetypes. I don’t care anymore if I’m sounding like those girls I hate. I don’t care anymore if you’re nothing like those boys in sappy young adult fiction novels that I secretly love. If it’s you—to hell with all those. I don’t care anymore.

“Okay, so do you want to go home?”

“Do you?”

Here you go again. Letting me decide. Always letting everyone else decide. Sometimes, I hate you for that. Why can’t you just tell me you want to go if you do? Why won’t you tell me you want to stay with me a little longer if you that’s what you want? Why aren’t you trying? At all?

“Not yet. Let’s walk for a little longer.”

I know that when “a little longer” has passed, it will have passed. So I swallow whatever holds me back and boldly take your arm in mine, pretending to drag you away from the crowd. I let the touch linger for a moment and then I pull away, knowing it makes you uncomfortable. You don’t seem to mind the contact, but I know you’ve probably analyzed it. I want you to analyze it. I want you desperately to know that every second of my existence right now—with you, with the consciousness that I could just lean a little close and feel you, with the possibility of so many wonderful things hanging between us, with the world rendered unfamiliar, with this feeling threatening to free the words my pride has worked so hard to contain—is that one prayer God has finally answered. This is the dream that I know will fleet away before I get the chance to wake up. This is the moment that will too soon pass. This is where time finally stops, long enough for the words to form themselves from the silence. This is where I will love you always. And this is where I know you will break my heart.

“Let’s go home.”

Would you believe that I am typing this here at work? I've been tired these past few days. My manuscript's a bitch, and the deadlines are getting really tight. Wish I could go home for a few days. I miss him too. :-(

Janty—a revolution.

We knew it was only a matter of time before somebody thought of having cigarettes join the electronic bandwagon with mails, cards, books, and well—pretty much everything else. Yes, the cigarette has now earned the iconic e- nomenclature! Though not a lot of people know, the electronic cigarette (or the e-cigarette or e-cig) has actually been around as early as 2004. It was invented by a Chinese pharmacist in 2003, introduced to the market the year after, and received its international patent in 2007. It is relatively still in its baby stage so you probably haven’t heard much about it or seen people ostentatiously wielding it around—but pretty soon you will!

E-cigarettes work by utilizing heat or ultrasonics to vaporize a liquid solution (known as e-liquid—yes, an e-liquid!) into an aerosol mist that can be inhaled. Think of nebulizers and humidifiers—it more or less works by the same principle. (And isn’t that ironic?) It is essentially designed to simulate that act of cigarette smoking so it looks, tastes, and even feels just like a real cigarette stick. In case you were wondering, the e-liquid isn’t a digital electronic liquid like those digital waterfalls in electronic landscape frames. It’s an actual liquid solution that contains the heart and soul of a cigarette stick—nicotine. E-cigarettes are therefore not technically smoking cessation devices. (Duh, it still contains nicotine!) It is, however, a healthy alternative to smoking. Think about it—the same physical sensation, the same flavor, the same feeling of confidence and freedom, all the fuzzy, relaxing, stimulating effects of smoking without threats of lung cancer or asthma or disturbing the old lady that sits beside you in the waiting area. Dads could smoke without worrying their kids might harness some of the harmful effects of their—let’s face it—bad habits. Already sick people who would rather stay sick that put the stick down can put the stick down and pick up the e-cigarette!

The leading brand and manufacturer of e-cigarettes today is Janty by Janty World. Janty has been in operation since 2006, first producing the Janty Yentl, followed by the Mini-fogger series. These pieces come in slick and elegant designs that fit perfectly with anyone’s daily swagger. They come in black too so you can’t help but look fly with them. They then introduced the Kissbox series, which was patterned from the KISS (keep it simple and slick) principle. The Kissbox features user-friendly ease-of-control buttons and can be powered via USB (so you can charge your Janty Kissbox with your iPod while you’re working). After the Kissbox came the Janty Stick, the first ever e-cigarette in a non-cigarette shape. It is also tagged as the most durable and best-selling e-smoking device in the market. Come 2009 and Janty launched the eGo Tank, a long-lasting battery-powered e-cigarette with a unique, ergonomic design. This was said to have wowed both consumers and critics alike. Janty’s innovations in the new but soon-to-thrive business of electronic smoking is constantly in the process of upgrade, development, and, ultimately, perfection. In 2011, they will again launch another series that will surely knock the socks off smokers—electronic or actual—and nonsmokers alike. Their electronic smoking devices are guaranteed safe; no need to worry about getting cancer, whether from electronic radiation or malevolent cellular growth, or asthma or any other diseases associated with tobacco smoking. Janty products are designed for the satisfaction, convenience, and safety of the consumers.

“Smoking is like jumping off from a high-rise building; you might enjoy the feeling of falling down, but you’re going to hit the ground sometime and die.” This was what my health teacher told the class way back in high school. Looking back now, I know she’d been right. No matter how glaringly bold the health warnings are on cigarettes, people still don’t care. One out of five people have jumped off the building. One out of five of those who jumped have hit the ground; the other four are on their way. Janty changes this picture. Janty takes care you don’t hit your head on the cold hard ground. Janty lets you fly. Some inventions make evolutions in the world of the digital and the electronic, but Janty takes the evolution and turns it into a revolution. That is what real innovation is about.

Long time no blog, blog!

I guess I should begin with the proverbial "Long time no see (in this case, blog)" thing. Long time no blog!

I've learned a lot of things from work, and I now consider the Chicago Manual of Style my work bible. Apparently, some of the things they taught at school are wrong. No offense to my very amazing English teachers. For one thing, you can start a sentence with a conjunction and end it with a preposition. It sounds a little awkward, yes, but it is apparently grammatically acceptable. Chicago says so himself.

Punctuation marks are always the least concern of any writer but for us editors, it's one of the biggest deals. God, the rules about punctuation! I never knew there was such a thing as a comma splice and that periods have to be inside quotation marks. Headaches are inevitable when you read about all these rules, but it's actually fun learning them. I think that by editing, I'll become a better writer because you are paid to see the mistakes of others, obligated to correct them, and you have no choice but to learn from them. And learned a lot I did.

I don't want to mention it, but half of the manuscripts we edit suck. Not just the mediocre kind of suck, but the suck that means "you can't write for crying out loud!" or "you're wasting money trying to get this piece of shit published--why don't you just donate it to a hunger charity." That sounds cruel but it's the truth! I can't count how many manuscripts I've read that triggered me to curse out loud. But I like it when I stumble on the good ones. Needs a bit tweaking here and there but the writing is good and the plot is worth reading.

All in all, I like my job. I'm still on training so I haven't touched any official manuscripts for now. I've had pretty good scores, so I'm pretty excited about live work. On top of that, I got my first paycheck. Wasn't that much but enough to get me by and pay the rent. :-)

Coming around the things outside work, I'd rather keep my fingers silent. First because I don't like how it makes me really happy and self-conscious at the same time. I've never felt this close to a possibility that sometimes, I just let myself be taken away by the moment. And when the moment ends and I realize that it's a long-shot for him to ever see me that way, I write poems as usual and distract myself by sourgraping.

My life's a bit routine right now but I am losing weight so I'm happy about that. I'm also glad I got to write here again. So long, blog!

Hey, you!

Hey you, boy with the ungraceful angles!

I think I smell sunshine in your hair. It kind of reminds of being in a sunflower field. See, I'd like to bring a Polaroid and keep that picture with me always. I kinda love that trench in your mouth. It seems like a perfect place to put a kiss. I love the summer in your eyes, too. It's like waking up to a good morning when I look at them.

Hey you! Boy that strangely smells like long afternoons! I think that's my heart on your hands. I don't even know how it got there. That awkward smile of yours must have stolen it. Since you already have it now, I particularly don't want it back. I've been eating a lot of strawberries and apples to take care that not too much cholesterol crowds around it so I think you should take care of it, too. Take it out for a walk, sometimes. My heart likes fresh air and long walks. A little bit of conversation would also be nice.

Hey! Hey, boy! Yes, you! Uhm. You see. I was wondering. Do you...uhm. Nevermind! I got some pride left to eat apparently. Oh well, you can always give it back to me if you don't want it. Well, do you want it? Do you? Gosh, you are so annoying!!!

But I do love the sound of your laughter. It has a beautiful ring to it. I'd love to write it down one day, together with all the secrets behind that strange twinkle in your eyes. But for now, I'll just stay here behind you, calling you out.

Hey, boy! Yes. You.

My New Years Resolution

I know it's not New Year but I've never felt like wanting to change this much.

Perhaps it's from watching Kimi ni Todoke for one week straight and playing it over and over again in my mind and in my laptop just because I'm bored and because their love story is, I now realize, the love story I have been dreaming all my life.

And I kind of want to be more like Sawako even though I know there are not a lot of men like Kazehaya. Just seeing myself in Kurumi makes me want to change as much as she does, too. So I will change, for the better.

I will be honest. I've never really been completely honest with anyone. Whenever I deal with people, I always put up a face to make me more look more cool or feel more human or seem like a person with little psychological deficiencies.

But the truth is, I am a big GIANT nerd. I try to be cool but I guess being a nerd is cool, too. I make it seem that I'm very nice but I'm a bitch. First of all, one of the things I envy about Sawako is that she can spend 2 hours with a person without talking and not feel awkward at all. Shy and embarrassed, yes, considering the person she's with is the boy she likes but there's never or little awkward moment between them both. When I'm with a boy that I like, I feel like I have to keep talking, even to the point of bringing up ridiculous topics, just to feel comfortable. Sometimes, the periods of silence are okay but they leave me too much room to think. When I think, I tend to be conscious of myself. What I tend to think of myself when I'm self-aware isn't really great so I end up feeling bad and inferior. I make some excuse, stand up, and walk away. Yes, I'm awkward.

I also lie a lot to keep other people's expectations of me stable and because I can't seem to help it, especially when I know the lie is going to make a good conversation topic. I love the feeling of telling a story, even though sometimes they're not really mine to tell or sometimes they are partly or mostly fabricated. I tell lies to think people I'm strange. When you're strange, people pay attention to you. I love attention, I feed off from people's attention. And this is exactly what makes me like Kurumi. I know how to shed enough spotlight on my ego for it to keep its weight and how to turn it away from me and shut up long enough for people to like me. I don't know if it makes me dishonest. I don't know if being over-calculating and having an annoying tendency to analyze the tinniest bits of details of other people's actions and words make me dishonest but I think I've built my ability to mingle with others that way. Anyway, it's too late to change that side of me.

So, in light of all my dishonesty and social fronting, I will stop telling lies for a change. Like, NOT LIE AT ALL. There are a lot of things I could do to keep myself from lying and I've got a looot of time to try all of them. And maybe once I've learned to be more true to others and especially to myself, I can feel more human and less of a phony.

I'll also try to work on my mental deficiencies. I'm not totally nuts but I know I have a slight trace of insanity in me. I could be a bipolar for all I know! I do know I have inferiority-superiority complex. And I could be a sex addict once I've actually tried it. And I have serious anger management issues. The kind that leads to self-injury and God forbid, to a criminal train of thought. This is what scares me the most. I know I can hurt someone if I'm really angry. I'm pretty violent when I'm extremely pissed and I wouldn't want anybody to ever see that side of me. So, what I'm going to do is work on my self-confidence (to give me less reasons to be angry at the world) and stop swearing.

Profanity, though it somehow makes us feel better, kind of fuels our anger and frustration. That's not good so I will practice to cuss less. Won't be easy but I'll try.

I'm going back to Cebu this morning and I have three weeks ('till Boracay) to change and I'm sure I'm going to do my best to make Sawako and Kazehaya proud if they were real. So here it is. My very late New Year's Resolution post.

That honest kind of LOVE

I just finished the first season and the Live-Action movie of Kimi ni Todoke (Reaching you).



The story is a little pedestrian but the plot is amazing. You have a girl who is introverted but wants to learn how to socialize and a boy who is the completely cheerful and friendly. We've heard it all before but the way things play out in the story is beautiful and moving.

This is clearly a case where "opposites attract" because Kazehaya is drawn to Sawako's quiet almost-eerie personality as much as Sawako is attracted to Kazehaya's cheerful disposition. They meet at the start of high school where Kazahaya gets lost and Sawako points him the way. Kazehaya sees her smile and immediately takes a liking to her. What keeps him interested though is that he never sees her smile at school and so he does little things to help her step out of her shell and smile more.

Add that everybody thinks she is Sadako (from the Ring) and you get comic relief and a unique twist that sets this love story apart from others. I have to say, though, that I don't see any resemblance between Sawako and Sadako except for their long black hair with bangs.

What I really loved about this series, though, is the the honest kind of love that it (and almost every other manga and anime) portrays. Both the characters are honest despite their individual deficiencies (Kazehaya is short-tempered and tight-lipped,; Sawako is shy and dense). This honesty is what nurtures their strong feelings into love.

And just because I miss being a Lit major and I can't help it, I've come up with an archetypal analysis of each of their characters.

Sawako




She falls into the Japanese manga archetype called the "Simple Character". A lot of Japanese anime and manga heroines also belong to this category. Like for example:

Miki Koishikawa of Marmalade Boy

Kyoko Mogami from Skip Beat!

Hibino Tsubaki from Kyou Koi wo Hajimemasu

A "Simple Character" is always honest, humble, unassuming, selfless, and sometimes a little dense. Most of them are quiet characters like Sawako and Kyoko. As the story progresses, they slowly ease out from that shyness (mostly by the help of their love interests) and emerge as strong, principled, and independent people. Their characters are sometimes unrealistically too honest which may be considered as some sort of weakness but it makes them more empowering and more, let's admit it, loveable. They also share a very distinct and sometimes annoying trait that drag the series into episodes of comic mishaps and romance: humility. Simple Characters are so humble in fact that they tend to be dense and oblivious to the sometimes flagrant and sometimes subtle displays of affection by their love interests.

Sawako for example attributes Kazehaya's attempts at showing his love for her to his kind personality which she thinks he also shows to everybody else. Miki from Maramalade Boy thinks Yuu is just teasing her. Hibino has the same train of thought and Kyoko thinks Ren is just being "her sempai". Ugh! It pains me to wonder why these girls don't get it! But I guess that's the beauty of being a simple character. You don't over analyze other people's actions so you don't get the wrong idea. Then when the unexpected thing happens (like the long-awaited confession), the happiness that comes with the surprise is more real and more absolute.

I wish I could me more like a simple character. I wish I could be as honest and pure and innocent. But I am not always honest and I am afflicted with the disease of analyzing every little thing people say and do to me. I am sometimes manipulative and can be a real bitch. In fact, if I were to compare myself with a character from Kimi ni Todoke, I'd say I am more like her:



Yes, I'm actually more like Kurumi than any other character in the series. Sometimes I identify with Yano but I see myself most in Kurumi. Though I am not the kind of girl who would go to the extent of spreading lies and defaming my rival (in fact I am very sport when it comes to love), I am capable of putting up a face in order to get the attention of someone I like. I will do my best to get that person to like me. I'll eat food I won't normally eat and I could watch football and even talk about thermodynamics. If I have to lie, then I will. After all, they say all is fair in love and war. I am also very selfish and tend to be jealous. And I fight my battles in subtlety. But what differs me from Kurumi is that at the instant where I am absolutely sure that I have no chance with person I like, I'll give him up immediately. Won't be easy but I'm capable of moving on and being okay.

Kazehaya, on the other hand, is "The Boy Next Door".



Boys-next-door are cheerful, popular, and yes, GORGEOUS! What I've noticed with heroes that fall into this archetype is that they always fall in love with the out-of-the-average girl. But usually, the girls they want to be with are the ones who are always honest, kind, and hardworking. How many handsome boys have we heard saying they love this girl because "she works hard" or "she never gives up"?

Ultimately, the boy next door is almost perfect but he has a depth that makes him special and different from "all the other guys". The boy-next-door also has hamartia like an unknown past or a short temper or a dysfunctional family. But whatever flaws he has, he always manages to put up a smile without being fake and has everybody, including and especially hopeless romantic writers like me, down at their feet.

Right now, I can't think of any other male anime character that have more-or-less the same character as Kazehaya. Anyhow, I'm just happy I met him and Sawako and all the other characters. I actually found the story quite boring at first but it got really juicy in the end!

By and large, Kimi ni Todoke is one of the most memorable animes I've seen! Kampai!!!

Holy Exercise

I just got home from doing the 14 Stations of the Cross. According to the Priest, it was a Holy Exercise. I agree.

In my previous post, I wrote about losing faith in religion. I stand by my words. I will say, however, that there are still activities in being a Catholic that I will always be willing to go through. Although I can't say that I will be focused always. I will still hear masses and try to be present. I still believe in the power of the Rosary and how Mother Mary can bridge my prayers to God. I still believe in the whole gamut of Catholic doctrines.

What I have lost faith in is the way all of these are woven together in a ritual that I have now found humdrum and well, boring. Maybe it's just a phase like what they all say. Then again, maybe it isn't.

I am ashamed to write that I haven't been completely focused on Jesus' suffering this morning. I slept with Kazehaya and Sawako (from Kimi ni Todoke) in my head and I just can't seem to get them off my mind while going through the whole religious experience. There is also the matter of language. The whole exercise was in Cebuano and as much as I'd want to listen and understand, I find it kind of difficult. So I said the responses in English though it's hard to say it wholeheartedly when you're constantly trying not to be distracted by all the Cebuano incoherent mumbling of "The Lord's Prayer"

But I'm glad I went through it of course. Though I haven't been completely present and there is no excuse for my lack of motivation and commitment to the activity that was supposed to be my way of showing the Lord that I can sacrifice for him too, I just hope that the thought behind my being there, my intention of sacrfice (no matter how minute it seems compared to the one made by Jesus), well I hope it counts.

losing my religion

Today is Maunday Thursday, the official start of the Holy Week, which doesn't feel so holy to me. My mom, stepdad, and I (my sister is sick) went to Church this afternoon to hear mass and I just realized for the last time (because I've been thinking about it) that I have lost faith in religion.

Religion is not something you equate with faith. Because I have faith. I have a lot of faith. I have never doubted, not once, that there is a Higher Power that holds everything together. I know for a fact that there is a God and that He or She is Good. Life is not random. Everything happens for a reason.

But religion. I think I am done with it.

First of all, religion is sort of a box that holds people together through fear. Fear is good. I mean we do everthing because either we fear the consequences or the absence thereof. But the kind of fear endorsed by religion is sometimes irrational. All this talk of going to Hell and facing the floodgates of God's fiery wrath. Sure, I am afraid of those things but I am also afraid of not living my life because I'm always in a bubble of fear. God made our bodies temporal and corporeal for a reason. If it is true that I can die anytime, why not make the most of my time? Why can't I enjoy myself, have a drink, party?

If my Uncle the Pastor could read this, he'd probably never talk to me again and I understand where the violently religious are coming from. There are verses in the Bible that clearly instruct us to always live our lives in utmost simplicity and to give and share and always be honest. I believe I can do and be all these things without religion.

Religion merely provides an avenue for the expression of faith but it shouldn't get the best of us. It shouldn't hold us back from the experience of wanting with the threat of Hell against our throats. After all, what matters at the end is simply our faith. Having that confidence in a Power that you know judges you and rewards you at the end of the day has to make you aware of your capacity to be good. And we all strive to be good people whether or not we go the Churches or Mosques or Temples.

What I'm saying ultimately is that I don't consider myelf just as a Catholic anymore. I feel like a hypocrite everytime I hear Mass and I hear it but I don't really listen to it and all I think about are stupid things like nose jobs, pretty dresses, and a flight to a foreign country. I want to worship God with the whole of my heart and my religion just doesn't provide me with that kind of motivation anymore. I feel more at close with God when I'm just talking to Him or when I pray than going to Church. I feel God's presence more when I feel a peaceful kind of happiness when I'm with my friends or when I smell the rain.

My religion is faith. But yes, I will continue going to Church and hearing masses because that's the only way I know to prove to God that I want to sacrifice something for Him, too. Sometimes, I can be really into it singing the songs and listening to interesting priests deliver even more interesting homilies but more often than not, I find it such a drag. I feel bored and I don't see the point of listening when I already know the "Parable of the Prodigal Son" and am pretty much acquainted with what it wants to say. Furthermore, some priests just deliver their homilies just for the sake of doing it. There is no heart in it, no passion, no effort whatsoever in trying to push these people into action.

Honestly, I find all masses nowadays more humdrum than usual. That shouldn't be the case. A Eucharistic celebration has to be a new cathartic experience everytime. I sometimes envy Protestant communities whose sermons or sessions or whatever they call their masses are much more livelier and louder than ours. I know it isn't fair to compare but you just have to. You can't help it!

Tomorrow is Good Friday and I'll try my best to make tomorrow as peaceful and as solemn as possible. The Lord Jesus Christ died after all and even though I can't stand bland and repetitive homilies anymore, I still have respect for the teachings of the Church. I still believe in the Bible and I still will subscribe to all religious ceremonies my firstborn religion has me disposed. It's just my perspective in religion that has changed. My faith hasn't and I highly doubt that it will ever.

That tension aside, have a Blessed Holy Week everyone!

Just admit that you miss me.

Strive for Excellence

Strive for excellence and success will follow

3 idiots has been in my disk for a month now and though a lot of people have told me what an amazing film it is, I waited 'till now to watch it. I guess it was my loss.

Rancho is the kind of person that I'm striving to be one day: someone that is motivated by his thirst of knowledge alone and not by external pressure, not by fear, not by a lack of any other dream, not even by money. He goes to school because he genuinely wants to learn and because he has so much passion and he wants to know how he can turn that passion into something that can benefit other people. This, I believe, is the true meaning of education.

I realize now that we shouldn't go to school with success on our minds. Success should only be the by-product of the process. What the process of education needs is just hunger and drive. The whole educational system comprising of schools, teachers, books, they are all just catalysts. For one to be truly educated, he only needs to acknowledge his ignorance and to want to fill that idiocy with wisdom.

Parents nowadays force their children to take up a certain degree because this will "buy you a nice house" or a "nice car". There is absolutely nothing wrong with parents wanting their children to have a good life. After all, isn't this what all parents want ultimately? However, it is often the case that when parents are frustrated dreamers, they want their children to put the dream back in motion, forgetting that their children might want to become a writer instead of a businessman. Then, it becomes about the house, the car, the furniture, the things that will be the envy of the neighborhood. It becomes about "success" and "wealth" but seldom or never about "happiness".

It's good to watch films about kids standing up for what they love and pursuing the dreams that are theirs. What is sad is that kids like these are very few in real life. Kids today, especially in 3rd world country like ours, can't afford to have dreams let alone chase after them. They are immediately bombarded by reality and this reality has poverty written all over it. There is no such thing as "going to school to learn". That's bullshit. Our children go to school to get a job.

We live in a dystopic society where knowledge doesn't hold a candle to practicality, where passion is futile unless it can get you somewhere, and where it doesn't matter if you've really learned something as long as you make it pass the cut-off grade. I see so many students potential and they are not given the right opportunities to explore what they can do.

3 idiots features the most brilliant ending I have ever seen. I can only hope that everybody gets to watch it and finds courage to overcome their fears, face whatever pressure is on them with honesty and pride, and tell themselves when they've realized their dreams,

All is well.

being alive

I want this day to be productive. I've been sleeping in since yesterday and haven't done anything remotely significant. Yes, I'm still sick but I'm the type that never lets a runny nose and an itchy throat get in the way of things. Well, this time might be different because I actually don't have anything to do. I'm bored out of my mind and I'm too lazy to continue learning how to drive, to finish or start learning a new piece on the keyboard, and to finally close that John Grisham book that has been opened-and-closed continually these past few days.

I'm tired of sitting but the thought of walking around also tires me. Ugh. The irony of man's desires. Why hello, Aristotle. You sound vaguely familiar. I'm sure I learned you in a philosophy class or something. Weren't you the dude who said that the soul was like a chariot? Or was that your teacher Plato?

This is why I hate not being in school! I feel myself mentally disintegrating. My brain cells refuse to wake up and all I can think about is getting teeth braces and cutting my hair and losing 8 kilos in a week.

Big sigh. I can't even write. Crickets. Crickets.

This is how I feel today

Here we go again
I kinda wanna be more than friends
So take it easy on me
I'm afraid you're never satisfied.

Here we go again
We're sick like animals
We play pretend
You're just a cannibal

And I'm afraid I wont get out alive
No I won't sleep tonight

CHORUS:
Oh, oh
I want some more
Oh, oh
What are you waitin' for?
Take a bite of my heart tonight
Oh oh
I want some more
Oh oh
What are you waitin' for?
What are you waitin' for?
Say goodbye to my heart tonight

Here we are again
I feel the chemicals kickin' in
It's gettin' heavier
I wanna run and hide
I wanna run and hide

I do it every time
You're killin' me now
And I won't be denied by you
The animal inside of you

CHORUS:
Oh, oh
I want some more
Oh, oh
What are you waitin' for?
Take a bite of my heart tonight.
Oh oh
I want some more
Oh oh
What are you waitin' for?
What are you waitin' for?
Say goodbye to my heart tonight

This is a song by Neon Trees titled "Animal"

That's kind of how I feel today. A bit of an animal. A bit romantic. A bit sick. A bit alive.

Sick

I'm sick again.

I have a bad cold and I'm starting to cough like a shotgun. These days I don't feel like doing anything (insert Bruno Mars song). Seriously, I'm so lazy all I do is sleep and eat and watch TV in between. I haven't even finished A Time to Kill yet and I've been reading it for almost a week now. I just get tired after I finish a chapter. Ugh. It's like my brain's giving up on me. I can't even write a decent blog update for crying out loud! Is this the result of continuously using it for half my life? Has it run out? Oh, I can even feel a headache coming.

It's not helping that I still can't get over that horrible job interview. I still don't understand why my interviewer had to give me a snotty I'm-smarter-than-you attitude. I mean I know that! If she weren't smarter than me, she wouldn't be interviewing me! I know she's the boss and she didn't have to take pains slapping me hard in the face with that fact. Was she mad that I sounded so confident about the exam which turned out I "just" passed? Did she think I was being arrogant when I told her I graduated magna cum laude or that I have several experiences being an editor? And if she did, I was only only telling her my qualifications and it wasn't my intention at all to brag. Or was she intimidated because I was so qualified and she knows I could snatch her job from her from right under her nose?

I've had people telling me to keep my feet on the ground. And my feet has never left the ground since 3rd grade. I've learned since that people don't like braggarts and people who think they're all that. I don't think I've ever bragged about how smart I am because honestly, I don't think of myself high enough for that. I have insecurities and those get in the way of me ever being proud enough to tell people that I'm smarter than them and that they should treat me with more respect. Sure I know I'm better than average but I've never rubbed that fact in other people's faces.

After that, I just lost that feeling of looking forward to a new experience. It's now been replaced by a cloud of doubt that I know will take long to disintegrate. Look at me. I'm wasting away and I don't even care.

I just hope things get better in their own time.

another love rant ('cause I just have to let it out dammit)

Here it comes again, this sick feeling at the bottom of my stomach. I find it hard breathing and there is only one thing on my mind, him.

I want to think that this is just the result of being together all the time, especially these past couple of days, and me not having anyone else to vent all my romantic frustrations on. I've been over this feeling last Christmas and I don't want it back. No matter how bright and warm it makes me feel, I don't want it back. I know it'll disappear soon and I'll be left wondering again if this is the real thing or the product of my post-menstrual hormones. I'll be left wondering too if he ever felt the same way or if he feels the same way about me as he does with the rest of our friends.

But God! He looked amazing in that motorcycle that I can't help but feel that tingling sensation all over again. I was caught off guard. He looked so strong, so in-control, and it deviates so much from what I see in him everyday that I just let it bring my guard down. And now that it has shattered, here I am writing it down because I'm finding that there is no way I can get him off my mind. I can't stop thinking about him it drives me nuts!

I just wish that this is just one of those romantic phases I get myself into when my hormones are all shaken up and I just need a guy to think about and afterwards when my hormones have calmed down, I can easilly shake off those feelings. Gah! This will hurt me bad when I see him again and he's back into his silent, indifferent, kind-of-awkward self. I like him for being those things because I've never liked silent guys and it's refreshing for me but it just makes me all confused. I have a tendency to read into things too much and doing that with him breaks my heart. Sometimes, he's the annoying kind of indifferent that I don't like, sometimes he's the gentleman who carries the grocery bag for you, sometimes I don't even notice his presence, and then there is the time when I just think he looks like a total rockstar and I just don't care about everything else. It's soo frustrating!

Then there is another theory left. I'm probably becoming desperate and I'm becoming paranoid because of that desperation. I just don't see how I'm still not close to having a relationship. I'm twenty and I really need that kind of security. I don't want to end up single like they say smart girls always do. I want to be able to love and be loved in that cliched, stupid, and romantic way.

The Retreat

This blog entry can never give justice to how those two days changed the way we look at ourselves, each other, and God. It felt like a lifetime and it was a beautiful experience. It feels so good to reconnect with God and with friends you love no less. Now I feel so light and happy and I just know that whatever comes my way, I can face it head-on and with a smile.

The first thing that we did was write our common realities: things that make us scared, happy, and sad. It was nice to know that we all have common fears and common joys and that we share the same blessings and sorrows. By the afternoon, we were divided into groups and shared to our group how we perceived God and the moments in our life where we doubted and was sure that He exists. Some of the things my groupmates shared were unexpected and it just woke me up to that sad fact that we've all been together for four years counting and still we know so little of each other.

And I realized that it's not too late to make up for that. By the evening, we had confession where the priest told me to confess at least once a week. I don't think I could really follow that but I'm glad I was temporarily absolved. :-p

Almost everybody cried during confession and I didn't so I thought that this retreat isn't the same as the last two I had in high-school and elementary where we shamelessly cried our hearts out. I was wrong. By the time everybody was finished, we were summoned back to the room where a Crucifix was laid at the middle surrounded by lighted candles shaped in a heart. Our chairs were around it. Our facilitators asked us to occupy the inner and outer circles and then asked those at the inner circle to put on their blindfold.

I was at the inner circle and this was where the fireworks began. Those in the outer circle would say thanks, sorry, and I love you to the people in the inner circle.

I would not dare to attempt write about what happened because words can never express the happiness and the tears and the freedom that transpired after we said everything we wanted to say. Never mind that we shamelessly cried, we were allowed to, we needed to.

I just realized how much I love my classmates and friends, how much we've been through and how strong we've become after all this time. I know now, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that that circle, that was where I truly belong, with these people who belong to different groups but come together as one crazy, smart, and happy bunch. I can now truly say that I've made REAL FRIENDS in college and because of that, I can honestly tell people that COLLEGE IS FUN and it is where you truly grow up and become prepared to be an independent in the real world.

Graduation is but two weeks from now and truthfully, from the deepest recesses of my heart, I am ready. It would be sad to leave the University and school. God, how I've enjoyed half of my life reading and answering tests and laughing and shouting and being nervous in those four-walled classrooms that have reared me to what I am now! I'll really miss wearing uniforms and studying for exams. I'll miss the Me as a student. But I guess it's true what they say that education doesn't stop in college or in grad school, it is a lifelong process. As long as you're learning, whether about how to grow a carrot or how to write a poem or simply how to make someone happy, that's education.

And as for me and my friends, CONGRATULATIONS! WE DID IT!!!

Graduation blues?

I just got my inspiration back. I really want to believe what Erma Cuizon said about the "just write" antidote to writer's block but when you can't write, you just can't. The funny thing is that I seem to have more inspiration here than I do in Cebu. Maybe because when I'm home, I get the feeling that there's nothing to worry about (though there are [i.e. write-up about Jonathan, PAGES articles]).

I'm graduating soon. Yes, I am very excited but I am equally nervous at the same time. The sooner it gets the more questions pops in my head like Am I going to be unemployed? How am I going to support myself? What do I really want to do? Finding out that I don't really have answers to these questions is scary as hell. I have options but gah I don't know!!!

Option 1: Take Masters at the University and teach.

*This is good but I want to study at a totally different environment. Though I'm not saying that the collegiate training at USC is inadequate, I believe that I'll grow even more as a scholar, more importantly as a person, when I get a chance to discover the world in a different place. I really want to go study at a University in America or Europe. I've been looking for Scholarships or scholarship grants, I've been looking up TOEFL and how to get you TORs credited. Somehow along the way though, I get lost among these schools and I revert back into a shell of doubt, forever unsure whether or not I am good enough to do these things.

Option 2: Work immediately.

I still do have that letter from Proctor and Gamble and I'm kind of sure that I'll graduate Magna Cumlaude at the very least. I think a lot of companies will want to take me as maybe their HR manager or PR or what the hell, their receptionist. I don't care as long as the pay's good enough for me to pay rent and buy food. Then there is that ESL fad among fresh graduates but I really don't want to sit all day long facing a computer and pretending I'm teaching a real student. When I do teach, I want it to be in a traditional four-walled classroom where I can personally interact with my students.

Option 3: Rest for a while.

I don't like how this sounds. This takes me back to PE13 class where Mrs. Coscos said that "when you rest, you rust". I don't want to rust. I don't want to waste time either. I don't want to burden my parents any more than I already am and should. I don't think my massive pride will let that label 'tambay' come near within ten yards of myself. Furthermore, I'm sure it will be incredibly embarrassing when people ask "Where do you work?" and all I can tell them is "Not yet" or "I'm still weighing options". I'm not the kind of person who has to take time to weigh options.

Option 4: Call Center

A desperate measure. I don't want to think that I don't want to work in call centers because people attach bad connotations with it but I do. I care about what people think. I will care when they twist their faces into disappointed looks when I tell them "I work at Qualfone or Convergys". Hell! I am a graduate of San Carlos! I am Magnacumlaude!

Okay, so these are my options so far. Lord, it makes my heart race knowing I'd have to decide which one of them I'll take soon. Soon is two weeks. Two f**king weeks! I can hear the graduation march now. I can feel it coming. God help me!

Happy New Year!

Here comes my traditional New Years post.

2010 was a crazy year. I say that every year though so I guess that doesn't really mean anything significant. But I did have a lot of memorable experiences this year at school, at love, at life in general. It was by and large a good year.

I'm feeling very positive about 2011. I guess it's because I love the number 11 and I'm graduating this March. I don't know where time will take me, where I will find myself after 5 months,who I'm going to be with, what things I will do but I have this inkling that wherever and whatever that is, it'll be awesome.

I don't have resolutions, I don't really believe in them. But I do have goals for 2011, well, specifically before I graduate.

1. Finish thesis. I've just finished Chapter 2 so I think it will be a smooth sail from hereon in. We're having this paper presentation on February and I am genuinely hoping my study gets selected.

2. Start a hobby. I really want to take cooking lessons. Or maybe finish learning how to drive. Or finish "You Must Love Me". Or maybe I'll just start collecting something like receipts or tissue papers.

3. Graduate. Nuff said.

4. Get a job. I got this letter from Proctor and Gamble last November.I was really psyched that I already have an offering before I could even graduate. We weren't able to attend the Forum though because we received the letter late. I don't want to end up teaching in University, at least not yet. I want to study at a university in the US or Canada or Europe. I think I'd want to be a Doctor first before I teach. There is also the Call Center, although I think I am overqualified, all modesty aside.

5. Get a boyfriend. I mean, I am 20 and I really need to have that kind of security or I will literally lose my sanity by the time I'm 27. Ezra and Paul is out of my list. A part of me will always love Ezra but I've learned to respect myself enough to just divert those romantic feelings into something platonic. And I'm very good at it, if I might add. Paul is lovely and sweet but he has zero personality and I don't think I'd want a boyfriend who doesn't know how to react. So I'll just leave my lovelife to that "Come What May" part of fate.

6. Spend less. I will try really hard to realize this.

7. Live more. And by that I mean have fun whenever there is time. Not necessarily drink and be all wild and nasty, just laugh more and spend more time with friends who make me feel better. Oh and I WILL LOSE WEIGHT because in this time and age, you don't really have much of a life when you're not skiny, don't have big boobs, and can spell pneumonia. But I promise never to dumb myself just to get some boy to like me.

8. REGRET NOTHING. This is key. I am very rational (most of the time) when I make decisions and do things. Sometimes though, I just let the chips fall where they may. And I will not regret anything that I do. I will live my life responsibly and be happy with things that will not hurt other people.

Tomorrow, i will be leaving for Cebu. It breaks my heart to think I'll have to go back to school again but every bubble has to pop sometime. Mine just did. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

I feel a very sharp pain but I don't know where it is. I've been tossing and turning in my bed but I still haven't figured out why I feel so sick. I haven't cried over nothing for so long and I guess I sort of miss the stupidity and silliness of it all.

I just got home from the first Misa de Gallo with my dormmates. I had been quite happy last night. I've been happy this morning. But when I got to Church, smelled that incense, felt the crowdiness that I hate when somewhere feels too full to have room for me, heard that melancholic O Holy Night from that violin, I knew I was going to cry sooner or later.

I was just going out to Church and I saw all these people talking, wearing different shirts, holding each other's hand, signing sheets, grumbling with anticipation of an early morning breakfast. I saw all these trees that towered over us, seemingly enveloped by a eavenly halo brought about by the arriving of the sun. I thought it was beautiful. I thought that, that moment was a kind of awakening. I was drowning in a sea of people but it didn't take a second for me to realize that I was completely, horribly alone. I've never felt lonelier.

When I looked at the Crucifix earlier, I struggled to fight back my tears. I feel so heartbroken I could break down any minute. I need a Dad, a Mom, a best friend. I needed my family. I don't know if it's all the stress and emotional trauma taking a toll on me but I really feel sad. Really, really sad. I guess it all boils down again to that thing at this point I am 105% sure I suck at.

Pushing it doesn't make sense. I have proven a lot of times that he doesn't feel the same way about me. And it's okay. I've grown so used to rejection that I feel it's second nature to me now. It's just that being given the final straw, being shown that people think others are always better that me in the House of God, just, IT JUST DESTROYED ME. It kind of felt FINAL. And maybe it is.

I'll make sure it is.

Love and Horror

I just finished watching the Live Action series of Yamato Nadeshiko Shichi Henge. They kind of jammed everything, from the "first meeting" to well Kyohei's return to his home, in a 10-episode run, which was surprisingly, ENOUGH. They kind of geared towards a more romantic direction with it though, putting more focus on Sunako and Kyohei. Ah, lots of good romantic stuff for me!

The Live Action also featured Takeru, a character absent from the manga and the anime. He is the son of Obachan and kind of serves as the tranquilizer of the group when they get into their crazy moody fits and fights. He also provides an outlet for Sunako's caring and motherly tendencies and a foil to Kyohei's unstable childish character.

The manga and anime lean towards a more mature audience but Takeru and a considerable amount of comic side-punches and dialogue make the series something recommendable to family and friends.

The live action also succeeds in getting across its point about accepting the things you hate about yourself. It shines enough light on each of the complexes of the different characters and works each of them out smoothly, although Sunako's and Kyohei's are given the most attention. I also like the fact that at the end, they made Kyohei and Sunako realize their feelings for each other, a point the manga hasn't reached yet and something the anime doesn't explicitly imply. I'm not really sure I liked the way they did it though.

A candid-camera set-up? Seriously! Maybe in a sense it was effective but I thought it was not original nor creative. I loved the ending, though I would've loved to see more sweetness from Kyohei. But I guess it would be extremely OOC if he suddenly acted marhsmallow-ey to Sunako. And besides, it's what makes their love story unique.

All in all, this series got to me enough to make me want to update my blog haha. I've not recovered from my writing blocks yet but I'll probably ease out of it soon. Now, I just can't stop thinking of Kyohei (Kame) and Sunako (Oomasa Aya). :-)

Will end this post with a wonderful quote from the ever-cute feminine Tegoshi, who plays Yukinojo:

"The fear of love is like going to the pool for the first time in summer. At first, it's really cold and will only get colder as you put your whole leg in. The only way you can really shake the cold off is to dive completely in the water"

My Country is a Sad Place

I have always been envious of people who live in more well-off countries like the United States or Japan. Though not everybody can possibly claim to be rich there, they always seem to be: owning decent houses, driving decent cars and having decent money enough to buy grocery twice a week or plane tickets for a break in another country. Yes, I am envious because they are rich and because they can afford to stay rich.

When you go down that economic ladder of countries, you find those that are not often (if not at all) mentioned in movies or in the news, though they do grace the headlines once in a while. One such country is the one I sometimes consider a misfortune to call mine. Our government is a consistent entry in the Top Ten Most Corrupt in the World; our people who leave to work in other countries are not the doctors or the lawyers, they are the housemaids and the janitors; and the rest who stay are either dying to leave or clinging to what little is left of the dying concept of nationalism. Yes, my country is the Philippines. And my country is a sad place. A sad, sad place.

I could write about the string of governments that was the iceberg to our could-be-Titanic of a country. I could write about the series of administrations that had beautiful plans which later proved to be profligate endeavors. I could write about the succession of presidents that boasted of growth and development that we were not able to benefit from. I could write about the decades and decades of corruption, the billions of stolen money that taxpayers had worked hard for, the scandals of road projects and extravagant presidential dining expenses. I could write about all these, exhaust myself and still find no words adequate to give this whole barrage of facts justice. Our government is an inveterate failure of sorts, always promising to progress the sad present situation and ends up making it worse. I’ve no mind to defend it.

You would think that having a succession of weak inefficient governments for decades will somehow agitate our people into action. Indeed, it has. So much in fact that the lot of us packed our bags and moved out the country to look for more decent jobs. “There is no money here”, I would often hear from people who take up Nursing simply because they think this is the surest way to work abroad. Even rich people coerce their kids to study Nursing. Sure, you could bitchslap these people for being so materialistic but once you get into the details, you’ll find that there’s very little you can pinpoint on them. Karl Marx had said that material conditions determine consciousness and once again, he is right. Our people who work abroad are confined to the reality of their situation. Poverty written all over it. It is that reality, that thought of having no means of supporting your family that compels these people to allow themselves to be enslaved, or worse, maltreated by foreigners.

They are the ones who leave and then there are those who stay. Those who stay might be categorized in two: those who are dying to leave, waiting for the approval of their thrice-rejected visa and those who esteem themselves to be one of the few and very endangered species of nationalists left in the country. The former are those you find working in call centers, teaching temporarily or staying idly at home. They are the ones whose lives are uncertain, the ones who are always wondering if they will ever get something out of themselves. Then, there are the nationalistic ones. These are the people you find carrying placards and burning pictures and lighting candles and shouting on the streets. These are the people who fight for good governance, who rally for the betterment of the system, who march for justice. Students, church leaders, laborers and other sectors remain in this country to forward the change the rest of us are too scared to even begin. Amid that overpowering hegemony of music, movies, fashion and even philosophy and language, they are there to remind us that we have our own culture to like and subscribe to. They keep that dying flame of nationalism alive. If the rest of us stay as we are, passive and indifferent, then surely our country will lose its identity and we will all be what we are slowly becoming: bland and unoriginal.

I have not yet mentioned the most important sector in our country, the legs on which we stand on: the masses. There is a reason why I have not said anything about them. This is because I find myself inadequate, hypocritical even, to write about something I have no knowledge about. I cannot claim to have consciousness of what it’s like to beg on the streets, to sleep with your family on a trashy cardboard box, or to live in a cramped up hut feeling sorry for my children because I have nothing to feed them. I will not dare to write about having to sell myself on the streets, or having to steal that old lady’s necklace on the jeepney. I will not write about the ugly forms of poverty that I see, hear, and read everyday. No, that is beyond my ability to summon words. Poverty is beyond poetry or art. Nothing can make it beautiful; not a clever turn of phrase, not colors on a palette, not even that stoic smile people always attribute to themselves. Everything goes back to the government. If that part of the system is not remedied, then there can be no hope for the rest of us.
It is rather obvious that I have used only “Philippines” once and have not used “Filipino” at all. That is because I find it difficult to type the words and not feel broken-hearted at the same time. It is very hard to identify yourself with something that does not define you anymore. The word “Filipino” used to mean a person with principles, someone who is worth dying for. Now, it only means “domestic helper” or “prostitute”. The Philippines used to be a place of retreat, a green haven of unity, heroism, and love. Now, it is just a place of a worldwide hostage scandal, a country other countries are vigilant about. The Philippines is now the home of thieves, prostitutes and murderers. Yes, I am a Filipino. Occasionally, when I hear news about our country giving the world reason to think that we are stupid and foolish, I am ashamed to be called that way. Think me cynical, pessimistic or loathsome but I will not deny myself the freedom of declaring my disappointment in this country I have proudly called my home for twenty years.

Yes, my country is a sad place. But I have not let go of the hope that one day, I will take these words back and find something beautiful and happy to write about it again.

Full Moon

It was a full moon last night. We watched when it rose in the sky. It was sooo beautiful!







Photos from the Carolinian Jam. The Bands were good, the music was exhilarating but I was tired so I couldn't say I enjoyed it.

Things I Gained from the Fire

12 Midnight. Everybody was getting ready to sleep. I, myself, already was. That was when my roommate suddenly woke me up, almost screaming, anxiety-turning-panic in her face.

"Fire!"

I jumped from my bed immediately and rushed to the window to see for myself. Indeed, there it was. A mountain of black smoke rising from powerful fat flames. The fire was not significantly far so we immediately called the attention of our other boardmates. They all ran to the room and took a peek from our window with wide, worried eyes. We deliberated whether or not we should start packing ourselves. And the alarm decided for us.

Hurriedly, I grabbed everything I could set my eyes on. My laptop first, then my school uniform and some clothes. I even managed to snuck in my vitamins and my facial regimens. I stuffed everything in my bag in a huge lump of mess, wrapped myself in a jacket, forgetting to put on my bra and ran downstairs with everybody. We were not really in a state of severe panic, but thanks to the continuous ringing of the alarm, we were quite on our way there. I texted my mom and told her about it. She told me to do what I already had done. When we were finally outside, we saw five or more fire trucks lined up at the front of our dormitory. They were very huge so they couldn't fit in that small pathway that led to where the fire was. That had us more worried.

We watched as everybody else got up, clad in their sleeping garments and jackets, bringing several bags that must have contained what ours also did. I was feeling quite the journalist, even though I knew I'm not cut out to be one, so I took out my temperamental almost-ready-to-break-down camera and took a few shots of everybody.



Dimples (the girl crouching down covered in a blanket) and her landlady.






We were unharmed, thankfully.


The fire from our window.

We asked some of the firefighters but they couldn't tell us what caused the fire or how big it spread yet.

When we were assured that the fire was not going to reach our dormitory, we walked around and found ourselves directly in front of the boarding house that went ablaze. By then, the fire had already died down.

We were thankful we hadn't lost anything by that incident. In fact, I gained these very important realizations:

1. You can never know when terrible incidents like fires, flood and the like will happen. And when they do, you should be ready.

2. You can never get complacent. Even if the fire was a little far back from our dormitory, we couldn't brush it off and simply say "that will never reach us" . You can't be sure of anything.

3. Things are a little easier when you go through terrible things with friends. God forbid, if that fire had reached us, I'm sure I wouldn't be so bummed out losing all those shoes, clothes, etc.. than if I had lost all those mentioned things and not have someone go through the same experience. That sounds selfish but I'm sure we would find a way to laugh things off.

4. You should always be careful. Dimples, the girl whose room the fire started, woke up suddenly and found herself surrounded by flames. Survival insticnt told her to get out immediately so she wasn't able to bring anything with her except that blanket she was shivering in. Nobody knows yet what caused the fire but it was most likely caused by something that overheated.

5. Pray. It gives you a feeling that everything will turn out okay in the end.

Home

One of the best things in the world is waking up in the morning and finding yourself at home.

I've grown to love the city but I can never call it 'home' the way I always do with the province. This town might be boring and nothing ever happens here but I have always loved the silence, the solitude and the peace it brings to my soul. Being here is sort of like a detoxifying process. Living in Cebu clouds everything: my judgment, my common sense and sometimes, even the goodness that I was always capable of. When I am here, I feel cleansed, refreshed, like I've been reborn into the past and I have never grown up.

In here, I am always a child.

My mother is here and everything is free. I don't worry and I don't have problems and I can watch TV the whole day. I can sleep whenever I want and wake up whenever I want. I don't have to worry about silly things like money or looking good. I can eat fish and like the sun. I can hear the homely barks of my dogs, smell food cooking downstairs, see my mom coming and going from her room. Nothing can beat that. Not drinking sprees, not late night parties, not even shopping. I'd exchange all those for early breakfasts, star-gazing and staying at home all day.

I guess I'm not ready to let go of all these yet. And maybe I don't really have to. I've always been and will always be a probinsyana. :-D

letting it out

I have no right to tell anyone that they can't write. Everybody can.

But to have that ability to fill words with genuine feelings and deep-seated thoughts, that's an entirely different story.

No I'm not saying I'm a good writer, hell, I don't even think that! When I sit on a chair, hold a pen or stare at a blank Microsoft Word page, I know that there are still so many things I have to learn about writing, so many books I have to read, so many words I have to uncover. Words don't come to me like rushing water from a floodgate. Sometimes, they don't come to me at all! Still sometimes, when they do come, they come out half-baked, mediocre and false.

But despite my apparent lack in ability, I do know how to judge whether a paragraph is a work of art or not. I have read so many poems and stories and essays of great writers - formal or informal, long or short, meaningful or simple - I've read all these forms of all these literary genres. I can tell a real poem from what somebody thinks is a poem but what is actually just a mere gathering of difficult but meaningless words in a futile attempt at ostentation. I do not intend to sound mean or arrogant but these are the kind of people that need to be shaken badly and told that this is not something they can do.

This will sound really bad but I have to let it out.

I just can't stand it anymore! You declaring to the world that writing is what you do makes me sick with indignation. How can you say that when you can't even form a sensible paragraph properly? You claim to have an excellent command of the English language and yes you do! But that doesn't make you a good writer! You boast about using all these rhetorical devices, all these figures of speech when you don't even know what they are! You brag about reading these writers, admiring their books...but when asked what they mean, what they say about society...you make things up. You might have read them but YOU DON'T GET THEM.

You don't get anything. And I can tell you why.

Because you are the most self-absorbed person I have ever met. You are so stuck up in your own little world you fail to recognize that there are other people better than you. You think you're so perfect that you can't admit that there is something in this world that you can't do. You need to wake up. You're so fucking blind.

And for the record, NO , I don't think you're smart. You're just goddamned talkative.

my first elections

I already had some ideas what to expect but I should probably say that my voting was smooth and fun haha. I feel sorry for those who had to wait hours but I think it was their own fault. They could have come earlier. My mom and I went to our precincts at 7 am and by 7:30 or so, I was alreading sitting on an armed chair, ballot and marker on hand and sweating a bit. I thought I had already my candidates in mind but I ended up changing the lot of them. I voted for Gibo Teodoro because I think he has some really substantial platforms for the country and he's smart. Although his associations work against him like being the administration's candidate and being a Cojuanco, he by himself is a very able man and I think he'll make a good president. I also ended up voting for Fuentes. It was last minute because although Medina had considerably improved Isabel, a good leader never lashes out on anyone in public. I don't like how he makes his contempt for our family visible.

I had thought that Gibo would gain ground because most people I know said they would vote for him. But in the presidential race, he's placing 4th while Noynoy tops the bill. Seriously,people have to STOP judging abilities through associations. There were a lot of great fathers who had weak sons. Peter the Great of Russia for example was considered one of their greatest monarchs while his son Alexei was his absolute and complete opposite. We can never assess Noynoy to be as great as his parents unless of course if he proves himself. He is NOT assertive, he is NOT bright,evidently NOT smart and SIGNIFICANTLY INADEQUATE. But considering the person tailing close behind him, I would rather have this weak and lackluster of a leader than ERAP,proven to be a big-ass coward and liar. It seriously pains and infuriates me to know that a considerable amount of people want him back because HELLO, weren't they the ones who marched at EDSA and rallied for days for his resignation? And now that he had RUN AWAY and still have the nerve to actually want the presidency back, they let him? WHAT THE HELL FOR? So he could legalize jueting? Seriously!

The Philippines already looks dumbshit to other countries. And if ESTRADA wins, we'd look even more ridiculous. Just imagine: a country once united in a revolution to oust a president, now uniting to bring the same sonovabitch back. I don't know what these Filipinos are thinking. Maybe because Erap's platforms mostly benefit the poor and I commend him for that but what about those grounds for impeachment? Wasn't he a proven corrupt and dishonest.

Oh, Dear Lord. Only You know where this election will take us. If Noynoy wins, then we'll just have to take it as it comes and hope as hell he damn knows what he's talking about when he says he can take this country to the "right path".

This.Again.

I have never gone home like this. Feeling like wanting to cry every passing minute.

I woke up nice today. Although, I remember having the same nightmare from the night before. I was singing and laughing and having fun being lazy. I was looking forward to going home but I wasn't so thrilled in leaving either. I found out that either way, I'd be happy.

But I don't feel that way anymore. I'm finding out that it doesn't matter where I am or who I'm with, I'm always made to feel lonely and rejected. I just can't take it anymore. I don't know if it's me or them or life...I am just tired of everybody. I'm tired of crying because it just doesn't help me get over it. Talking to strangers didn't help much either. I'm just a trainwreck right now. And I don't know exactly how I got this way.

Maybe it started with them. I always hate it when I ask a decent question and they answer rudely or they don't answer at all. I always see that as an insult to my existence. And I've been insulted today twice, by my closest friends no less. It would have been okay if they went on joking hurtful stuff and pretending it doesn't hurt me somewhere but ignoring me on purpose is something I can never stand. It makes me feel like I'm alone. And to have friends and still feel alone is the worst feeling of all.

Sometimes, things like these make me wonder if I truly have friends at all.

Because when I cry, I can't think of anyone at all who I can run to. I feel like there's no one out there willing to listen to me.Everybody is just too selfish.

I also thought going home would make me feel better but it just made me feel worse. When I got here, I didn't even talk to my parents, didn't even look at them in the eye. I just went upstairs and cried my eyes out, pretending to be sleeping.

No, I don't want to blame this on anyone. But if I don't, I feel like I'm going to kill myself out of guilt and depression. I'm fucking suicidal right now, like the world is going to be a much better place without me in it. So yeah, I'm crying because of my insensitive friends who only think about themselves. I'm crying because I wasn't able to take a bath this morning because nobody told me the water tank had to be cleaned today. I'm crying because I know I blew my presentation if Greek mythology. I'm crying because I got stuck in traffic while trying to get to my ship. I'm crying because I felt like my bladder was going to break but I can't go to pee because the woman I'm sitting beside to has a sleeping kid in her arms and I didn't want to wake him up. I'm crying because I wanted to go home so badly but there were no more commutes and I had to pretend like somebody's going to pick me up. I'm crying because my ass hurts from sitting in a crammed up jeep while holding back that pain. And I'm crying because I know I'm hungry but I couldn't eat that barbeque my mom bought for me. I'm crying because I can't forgive myself and all these circumstances.

I feel so empty. So lost. So fucking broken.

Disappointed with Myself

Staring at a test paper with nothing short of an answer on your mind is, now I realize, the worst feeling of all.

And now I'm listening to Strauss' Till Eulenspiegel just to ease out some of the tension I'm feeling.

I had always prided myself of being a good student, always ready for anything. But today, for the first time in a long time, I got soo disappointed with myself. I am not the type who can take failure easily. Call me a hypocrite or whatever but I bask in the glory of always being on top. I've earned that place and to be suddenly told that I don't belong there anymore is soo frustrating. Of course, it's just one quiz but I just can't help but feel so upset about it.

I plan to make it up in the next test of course. There is nobody else to blame for this but myself. We were told to read and I did not read. Oh well.

Thank God for classic music and the healing power of blogging, I now feel better.

bad day

I'm having such a bad day today. Yes, I am so frustrated and angry I'm crying right now. Phone still not fixed. God knows I wanted to make a scene at cellpod. Can't connect to the internet..the only thing that distracts me from frustration. It just made it a lot worse. Subtitle on the DVD I bought won't show up...the last thing that I hoped would cheer me up.

It's official. I hate it. I really don't want to blame God but He's the only one here.

The Sleepover

Last night's sleepover was definitely a blast! I had soo much fun!

After the family president found out that my sister had arrived, she immediately arranged for a slumber party and a horror movie marathon! I just downloaded "Coming Soon" so we decided to watch that one.



It was soo terrifying! We had scream moments every other 5 minutes! The sound effects are awesome, the acting amazing and the plot, my god, it's a winner! The twist is pretty dumbfounding too! Ah that's why we love Thai horror flicks soo much. Because after we watch it, we always find ourselves drained. We just felt spent we couldn't move! We just sat there. But after we talked about it though, we figured that we were all hungry. Unfortunately, gradparents were already asleep and we couldn't possibly wake them up so we decided to head out to cook dinner at our house. We had soo much fun cooking! Aya cooked the scrambled eggs, Erika did the bacon, although she sort of burnt it a little, I worked on the hotdogs while Klyde and Key made pancakes!

Here are some pictures:



Oooh here we are, looking like mini-chefs that we hope to be!



Me cooking hotdog, Erila cooking bacon.



The outcome! Yumm!

SO then, after we cooked, we went back walking in the rain! When we got there, we immediately went after the food and devoured it in minutes! Too bad we didn't have rice though! But we got full anyway so that was okay! After eating, we washed and went upstairs. We stayed at Auntie Vawnette's room and watched The Tooth Fairy. It was funny but it wasn't that much entertaining. Then, we went to sleep.

We woke up at 11 am the next morning. We went down, ate brunch, and watched Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging!.



I had seen it before but I didn't have fun as much as I had when we watched it this morning! We went flips for Robbie! He's Aaron Johnson in real life and he is totally hot! We're the same age so hahahaha. Well anyway, I'm quite happy that my cousins enjoyed it.

All in all, this year's summer (before I go back to school) is absolutely FABULOUS!

Beautiful Night

The moon was very beautiful yesterday! It was soo bright it lighted up the sky like the sun! The clouds were nice too and they formed like giant angel wings. The wind felt great and I just felt peaceful looking at them outside the window.

Too bad though I wasn't able to take a picture. I'm sure it would have looked lovely on photograph.

Today we went to Ormoc to fetch my sister. We had fun talking in the car and catching up. Apparently, we'll be having a movie marathon and a sleepover tonight and I'm pretty much looking forward to it. Tomorrow is Maundy Thursday so I'll probably try not to do anything "nasty". Haha. You get the drift.

~strawberries