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Hello everyone! I haven’t been blogging about random stuffs for a while, because of some stressful works in school. I miss my blog like this. But no worries, semestral break had officially started, and I might be dying out of boredom and constant stillness. I certainly had nothing to do during this 3-week holiday from college. I have no plans at all. Maybe I’d just do whatever comes my way, and cross the bridge when I get there. “Cross the bridge when I get there” – how lame.

I am currently trying to read and understand Wuthering Heights. I didn't know that it was that deep and hard to grasp. One should have a thick hard-bound dictionary beside him when reading that novel, or maybe a wad of tissues if ever hemorrhage occurs. So maybe I’d stop pushing my luck and my limits. I might welcome the new semester with mad eyes and a wracked brain and a messed up vocabulary. So I’m planning to just read another book, maybe a Paulo Coelho or the Chronicles of Narnia. Anything to cease the boredom.

Speaking of new semester, I will be spending mine on the same school. Yes, I am staying in Treston International College for another five months. And my plans are still the same, try to transfer to UP Diliman and finish a degree, if ever I’m still alive by that time. I’m still deciding what course to take: Broadcast Communication, Journalism, Linguistics or European Languages. My only problem right now is my credited units. I don’t know if Diliman would accept someone taking a different course and would shift to a way different track. It says on their site that transferees should have at least 30 units taken (which I would have) and 50% of those units should be credited depending on the course to be taken (which I hope and pray would happen). And if mine won’t be credited, I guess I have to burn my eyebrows until summer.

And oh, of course General Weighted Average is an important requisite. Future Iskolars should have an average of 2.00 or higher to pass the quota for the prominent school. And yeah, that’s another thing to worry about. My grades have been falling down ever since. For the first semester, I got an average of 1.06 (for Prelims) and 1.17 (for Midterms). See how they took my .11 points away? Fail, fail. And good news, I missed two quizzes on our Basic Computer classes, and my performance in Psychology didn’t go well. I’m definitely and totally anxious about it. Grades will be released by November 7, and I just hope that I won’t have anything lower than 2.0, or I would lose my scholarship (which is practically my life) and I would stop schooling for a while. And trust me, I don’t want that to happen, ever.

Now, why don’t we first look at the brighter side of things (if there’s any)? Remember Sam Concepcion’s birthday? Of course, I know you remember. I gave him a gift, didn’t I? So okay, I’m going to tell you what the gift was. I gave him “a classic novel about a boy who never grows up and who believes in fairies. I chose this particular book because the protagonist somehow reminds me of you,” – those were the words that I wrote on the card. Guess what? I don’t know what happened with fate, but he’ll be portraying the role of Peter Pan in a play next year! What an awful coincidence. I still can’t get over that news. I felt like dying when I heard about it (although of course I don’t know how dying feels like). I hate coincidences and destiny acting this way, acting crazy. I wish I’d be the one playing as Wendy Darling, and yes, I am just dreaming, having a senseless trance. As if! Anyway, I told him about the book on his Twitter account, and just like before, just like forever, he didn’t reply. But I hope he had read it. It’s a big help, I’m positive about it.

Because I think this is going too long for a single post, I’d just leave you with the list of songs that are currently stuck in my head.

• On the Line - Demi Lovato and the Jonas Brothers
• Overboard - Justin Bieber and Jessica Jarrel
• War - Jay Sean
• What If - Jason Derulo
• Your Love (Remix) - Chris Brown and Jay Sean
• Heartbeat - Enrique Iglesias and Nicole Scherzinger

I didn’t have any brilliant moments with Sam on the night of his birthday. It was just the norm, thank yous and greetings. When I see him in person, it feels ordinary. I don’t get all wild or crazy anymore. He just looks exactly the same as what he is on the tube. So I feel no difference or anything. Maybe the fact that you get to rub shoulders with him, to talk to him, have eye-to-eye contact with him, or maybe smell him stands out. But trust me, it’s utterly normal. I didn’t even gawk at him all the time like what I use to do. It was like he wasn’t the only person that mattered anymore. I mean, what I only wanted was to greet him, give my gift, have a photo with him, and have fun. But please, do not think that I don’t like him anymore. In fact, the fondness grows bigger, and deeper, and stronger each time. I don’t want to be overboard; I just keep it to myself. Anyway, I did get to talk to him… and it was regretful, always regretful.

After we finally got to be near him…
Faye: *gives the gift* Happy birthday!
Sam: Thank you! *Hugs* (Yes. We hugged, finally!)
Friends (Samsters): Ayee!
Faye: *looks down* Ano ba yan. Nahihiya na tuloy ako. (That was true! I got shy.)
Sam: Okay lang ‘yan. (He said that before, which meant I was always shy.)
*poses for the camera*
Faye: Happy birthday ulit. *Hugs again.* (Sam was already sweaty and hot.)
Dana (Samster): Ay, may ganon?

Then, I was just staring at something for a moment. Those things really sink in to me very late. I only felt kilig after, like, 5 minutes or so. It was like I’m schizophrenic, or maybe I just react delayed. Crazy.


Before we went home, we had decided to have a group photo with Sam. So we’re all ready. I was standing beside him; we were at the back because we’re one of the tallest. He put his right arm on my shoulder. And we were already smiling, all set. But then, his mom came and gave him her phone, saying that it was a call from Hong Kong. So we broke apart and lingered. I never intended to listen to what he’s saying, because I respect his privacy, but his voice was loud and he was talking swiftly, and I couldn’t help admiring his articulation in English. He was like, “What?! Mikee Lee in Hong Kong?” and “I haven’t heard anything from there / I haven’t gone there (I’m not sure what he really said) after what happened (maybe he was talking about the hostage incident last September).” He was so fluent; I was green with envy.

But guess what? At the near end of the conversation, he had his hand back on my shoulder again. While it was there, I put my left hand on his back and I patted him several times while saying “Okay lang yan.” And I was taken aback of what I did. Fail move, Faye! I was astonished at that time because of the hand rested on my shoulder. And he sounded frustrated (on my ears), so I thought I had to do something. I was wrong, I know. I was so paranoid and anxious about him thinking if I’m serious, or trying to be funny, or just down right crazy. But he looked at me, and he smiled, and I tried to relax a bit. Did that mean that he thought I was just trying to be funny? Or did he think I’m crazy? But I didn’t care. This will pass, and he’d forget about it, anyway. So finally, we had four group pictures, and had another photo with just the two of us. I like how he always put his arm on our shoulders. It means that he cares and he’s open with his fans and with his crazy and trying to be funny fan.

Love. ♥


Sam Concepcion's 18th birthday celebration was really crazy. That's the best word to describe the event. From the start till the end of the party, I was feeling nervous but all frivolous. Every second was important, was gold. So in that every second, I was trying to sink in every detail inside that room. I just couldn’t believe I was there. But yeah, I was there, in pure flesh.

Sam arrived just before dinner started, which was like past 6 p.m. I didn’t eat well because I was keyed up for the program to start and to dance the night away. I was overwhelmed by the atmosphere and the happiness from the people, and there was something about the food that makes you feel full very fast. I shared a table with Maryjoy, Morris, Angel, Jheng, Jirah, and a girl whom I forgot to ask the name for. It was so cold inside, and I was getting a bit sleepy already. But no worries, my mind woke with a start when Kuya Pats and Ate Yen started the games: Manila paper dance and longest time to say happy birthday Saaaaaam without stopping (I don’t know what it’s called). There were also production numbers ala Showtime by the A-pop girls, the Pigtails, and the Gigger Force (composed of the older officers. They won; they were epic!). There were also hurados-who-can-never-be-burados Joshua (the kid from the first Kokey serye), Miss Jasmine R. (Sam’s PA), Mrs. Gene (Sam’s mom), and the birthday boy himself. After the “competition,” Ate Madessa M. sang “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” and then the 18 roses followed. Sam was surprised by the act; he said “Ano to, debut ko?” It was very moving in a comical way, and I foolishly had goosebumps. After that, we sang “Happy Birthday” for him, and we were chanting “Iiyak na yan! Iiyak na yan!” He didn’t cry though.

The video greetings were played after. We were all laughs, sighs, “awws”, and “Oh!” while it was playing. Then, Robi D. mentioned about taking care of babycurt (Jasmine Curtis-Smith). And then we all broke into shrieks and screams. You can actually feel the warmth on Sam’s cheeks even if you're yards away from him. He was so shy. Mrs. Gene was also shrieking with delight. It was very funny! Then the real babycurt sent her greetings straight from Australia… and you know what happened next. We all went nuts! And Sam was saying, “Who made this video?” and “Guys, si Yen [Santos] po ang love team partner ko.” Jasmine’s message was played twice. I wager my life that he’s still thinking about it up until now.

The party-party part started after that crazy incident, which meant dancing, photo ops, and anything you can do. It was hard having photos with Sam. His fans were swarming around him, and I couldn’t breathe because of my little claustrophobia. We just waited until everybody had had their chance. It took us a long time before we finally got to say our good wishes, give our gifts, and have photos. I’d talk about that part on my next post. Anyway, after all the poses and flashes, Sam got tired and hungry, so the pandemonium ceased for a while. As for us, we had the time of our lives. We danced and sang our lungs out. We were like drunken people with just a glass of iced tea in our hands. We partied like it’s the end of the world, like it’s 2012. It was the best kiddie party I’ve been to. Ever.

The psychological analysis that teenagers experience an emotional phase is totally true. We all go through different annoying and difficult and threatening stage – like mood swings, temper problems, insecurities, the unhealthy desire for suicide, indecisiveness, heartbreaks – that would somehow teach us lessons and make us more resilient. Though it won’t make us invulnerable, at least we already have an idea about it and the things that should be done to make it through the day. And eventually, these circumstances would help us find our true identity.

And why am I telling these things to you? I don’t know myself. I am always unsure, unsure about everything. Maybe I just wanted to share my own experience with that emotional stage. Or maybe I’m still looking for answers to my questions. Or maybe I still haven’t found the real me.

I’ve always been very vocal about my easily depressed and easily frustrated persona. Maybe it’s part of my life growing up. Maybe I’m not the only one who experiences such burden. Maybe it’s part of who I really am. I always have a lot of maybes. I reckon it’s just the whole me – low self-esteem, frustrated, reserved, depressed, stupid. Stupid. That’s what I was labeled ever since. I was always called stupid, no initiative, lazy, hard headed, good for nothing by a random list of people... and I still am. I’m so used to it I don’t mind them anymore. But still, this is the reason why I always try my hardest to get good, if not high, grades for almost all of my school life. I always want to excel in the field that I’m interested in. I always do things in the best way possible. I always want to make everything perfect, outstanding, number one. I just want that random list of people to regard me as good, or smart, or worth their time. I’m obsessed with making them happy, with making them proud. No, I don’t want too much attention, or over the top praises that sound fake. I just want that one feeling of relief from successfully pleasing them. But I’m fucking tired of doing this crap...

I’m starting to do things the opposite way. I’m starting to either answer back or give the cold shoulder to the person who is trying to reprimand or is totally annoying me. I’m starting to be rebellious and stubborn. I’m starting to be the person that they’ve labeled before – stupid, no initiative, lazy, hard headed, good for nothing. I’m giving them their chance to prove that they’re right, that I am nothing. Perhaps all of those efforts of trying to be perfect had gone to an end, useless. I’m just so fed up with doing the right things. I want to experience things that are out of the box, beyond my comfort zone, things that are not me. Just to make me whole and stronger again. I just want to really find myself, without regrets, without trying to please everyone.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower written by Stephen Chbosky revolves around a story, or rather letters, of a teenager who goes by the name Charlie. When I say letters, I really meant actual letters with a header for the date and greeting: Dear Friend. This novel has the strangest plot and style I have ever read. It is very liberal and rebellious. It is funny and talks about the real stuff that a struggling teenager finds hard to ask about.

Charlie shares his ideas and thoughts about the people and the things that are happening around him through sending letters to a person whom he haven't met and let alone know his name. He said that he had heard about this friend from his classmate. He had decided to write him letters because he believes that he "listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with a person at a party even though he could have." He talks about Sam, the girl he really likes but is trying not to think of her that way because she is older than him; his pretty but mean to boys sister; his dad who doesn't hit and his mom who keeps quiet; his brother who plays football for scholarship, and had once treated him french fries at McDonald's the day he heard that his best friend Michael died; his gay friend Patrick and his homo relationship with Brad; The Rocky Horror Picture Show; smoking, taking drugs and getting stoned, masturbation, having sex; and everything that falls in between adolescence and adulthood. He loves making mix tapes and reading novels handed to him by his English teacher. He talks about his life with his family, in high school and outside it. He thinks that he is both happy and sad and is still trying to figure out how that could be. He once felt infinite while inside Sam's pickup truck when a song about a boy played and it started to rain. He writes about what it felt like to lose a friend, to get high for the first time, and to have reunions with his very chaotic relatives. Charlie is labeled a wallflower because he sees things, he keeps quiet about them, and he understands. He is caught between trying to live his life while growing up and wishing it to be different.

I have decided that maybe I want to write when I grow up. I just don't know what I would write.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep going without a friend. I used to be able to do it very easily, but that was before I knew what having a friend was like. It’s much easier not to know things sometimes. And to have French fries with your mom be enough.

But because things change. And friends leave. And life doesn’t stop for anybody.

And we kept dancing. It was the one time all day that I really wanted the clock to stop. And just be there for a long time.

So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.

“It's great that you can listen and be a shoulder to someone, but what about when someone doesn't need a shoulder? What if they need the arms or something like that? You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love. You just can't. You have to do things.” -- Sam

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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409

∞ Loser
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∞ Graduation Speech
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∞ Hopes and Great Love



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Wonda Willow Persnickety Paperkid

Teenage Dreams © cfsordas

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