Bitter Coffee
23 December 2011, 4:35 - 6:29 a.m.
My three had-beens, one what-happened-between-us, two had-almosts and a couple of had-not-but-wished-it-hads; my grade school closest girl friend and my high school best friend: all either in a relationship or a part of the impossibly possible world of mutual understanding. One dating for more than two years; one just starting out; one in a complication but hanging on; one with a baby; one in a long distance relationship; one single but might be in love. They truly had found love in somebody else, maybe even in a hopeless place (it’s a love I’m feeling, I just can’t denyyyy).
Me? The introverted, weirdo and boring
me? Here. Writing this in a very inconvenient time, when everyone is still lost in the unfathomable wonders of dreams, when it isn’t even the crack of dawn but I already had consumed a cup of coffee (which isn’t really my thing), when it’s so serene and pleasantly quiet that I just had to think things over and achingly write it down at the back page of yet another customized notebook of mine. Feeling stupidly alone – literally and figuratively. Feeling so alone to the depths of missing my family. Alone to the depths of having the unwelcomed feeling of not having friends. Alone to the depths of unhappiness. Unhappy to the depths of loneliness.
It’s just... hard to understand.
Why, that after two years and ten months, do I still haven’t found love in even the most hopeless of all hopeless places?
Why, that after two years and ten months, am I still not ready for a relationship?
Why, that completely moved on, do I still feel that nobody loves me, a love in all its wonderful forms?
Why do I want and/or need love and
don’t want and/or need it at the same time?
Why do I think that I’m ready but still so afraid?
Why are my whys still
whys?
And why, why
freakin’ why, do I still feel a tiny bit of pain and jealousy when one of my had-beens had found love? It’s seriously annoying that I feel like it’s all so wrong and an act of pure selfishness – a selfishness that couldn’t be accepted, that is frankly immoral in the book of dating, that is always a bad thing in all its entity. I honestly can’t and don’t understand the aching stir of my emotions when I learned that he isn’t in a “Status: Single” anymore. I know – oh, how I know – that there isn’t romantic between us, completely nothing. No flicker of feelings that would spark up when applied with a little friction. No switch for affection that could be turned on and off through the course of time and civility. Nothing. Just a little care picked up and gathered from the amiably awkward past and years of shared platonic friendship. I know in my heart that I had completely moved on from the feelings I once had for this particularly funny, sarcastic and gentle of a guy.
Or maybe I haven’t. Maybe I once had the longing, the yearning desire for his time and his presence. Maybe I once thought of our short or maybe long time together when the second shot on love comes. It selfishly occurred to my mind that maybe there’s still a second chance and an endless hope for both of us. I once wished of having him back – which was
unacceptable, which was
impossible.
Maybe I just miss him. Maybe I just want someone to listen to my drama. Maybe I’m just used to having him around – physically or not – whenever I feel like nobody else is there for me. Maybe I grew fond of his late night phone calls. Maybe I took him for granted. Maybe I looked at it beyond the line, pushed unacceptably too far, falsely hoped too high, which frequently happens to me. Maybe I still like him but won’t consider it. Maybe I still haven’t moved on, albeit all the convincing I took like a bitter pill every waking day. Maybe I want that first ever millisecond hug we shared to last for more solid seconds, for more pleasant minutes. Maybe I felt that pull of my heart again, but he didn’t. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe he will never love me again like he used to. Maybe all we’d ever have and need is a special, harmless, caring friendship.
Just friendship: such a painful fact.
Maybe I should stop feeling this way and start moving on – for real. Because if not, I would just be living in a glass case of a past, blindly preferring the amiably awkward but cannot be undone memories; blindly disregarding the other world of the present and the future that are only half-gratifying but still awkward and can always be maneuvered and leave with no dash of regret and bitterness. Maybe I should stop relating my life to a Lady Antebellum song
“All We’d Ever Need” and start living with
“Ready To Love Again” as my mantra. Yeah, maybe I should. Maybe I should stop writing drama this early and
not drink caffeine anymore.
I sincerely hope I won’t be hurt and affected again had my had-beens, what-happened-between-us, had-almosts and had-not-but-wished-it-hads found love in the hopeful and hopeless places. And I hope I won’t feel alone to the depths of unhappiness and unhappy to the depths of loneliness anymore.
012412 Diecinueve
Nuestra Cita
(Our Rendezvous)
I first met him in Hogwarts’ Great Hall
Sitting alone, mystic and oh so calm
From Gryffindor, I’ve heard, strong and all
Serious? Heck no, just funny as a clown
I met him again in the dark, greeny, little Forks
Head down, walking with rained, tousled hair
I kept up with him, not minding my feet sore
With his laughter, the pain I almost can bear
I met him once more in the depths of lonely Seam
Looking so far away, lost in his own space
I sat with him, talked, and we made some team
I will not forget his smile, el hombre and that face
I met him again – oh wait, I met him always
He was still the same: brave, calm, a clown
Still the same, wandering in this life maze
Smiles that always reaches his big, big browns
We may face hovering, soulless Dementors
Rally against the Volturri and the Capitol
But we just knock on each other’s familiar doors
Dementors, Volturri, Capitol, all just trolls
We may have the most unfortunate of times
Caused by hunger, some stress or just because
But we’re cool, young, roll like colorful dice
We go loco, foolish and dougie like a boss
Four years since the lucky day I met him
The day I had some amigo to call the best
Un amigo whom unto I can forever lean
Whom I can run to and talk endless
I am forever grateful for this Gryffindor dude
The one I met in rainy Forks and the quiet Seam
The one with the big browns and changing moods
And always, I will all over again, gladly meet him
Happy birthday, Zandro! I wager my life you’re hysterically laughing your butt off while reading this. Heck, I know that you know that we both know that I haven’t any writing talent and creativity with poems. But I tried my best. Yes, this is the best I could come up with. But I hope you get my point. The Great Hall, Forks and the Seam are representations of the movies we religiously have seen, are seeing and will see together (and now with Kathleen – our new recruit). And in two months, we will meet again. I love you. I’ll see you in the Seam soon.
PS: Don’t you ever brag this to your friends. They’ll realize how troll and epic failure your best friend is with poetry. Have mercy.
Ultra Mundane Cats and Bees
Everybody’s been so busy, don’t you think? Even I. Yes, finally, I can now completely say that I’m busy, both because of external (meaning school activities, projects and all types of shits) and internal (meaning activities that I come up with and do to make myself busy) reasons. Pack is not good right now. He is under a very pitiful condition, caused by unshielded viruses and complete carelessness of the owners (which are my brother and I). I have no idea how to repair laptops. I’m not a computer engineering student. I know HTML (wow, that’s something new), but not commands and deadly codes. I hope Pack will get better soon.
My student life is going well. My Biology professor knows my name already; he uses either Christine or Faye when he calls me (which is unusual). Because of that, I’m not so much of a scaredy cat around him anymore, unlike before (he gave me uneasy feelings and ridiculous paranoia). What I’m now anxious and worried about is my performance in Music and Sound Effects. Weird, I do well in my minor subjects. But in my majors, I flunk like whatever flunks the most. I don’t find the stated subject interesting. I
want to, but I just
can’t. Maybe because we don’t have hands-on exercises and pushing buttons and adjusting volumes yet. I’m really worried because I feel that my participation grades are just as interesting and exciting as how I find the subject. I gave my professor one word answers and no further explanations every time I was asked about particular topics. Seriously, I cannot explain music. I can listen to it all day (or maybe forever), learn its words and all until I can sing it in my sleep, cry while listening to it, but geez, I
can’t explain them. Can I explain why I cry? Can I explain why I’m addicted to a song? Can I explain why I play and replay a song a lot of times to the point that I become responsible for the 500,000 views in a video with a million hits? Attempting so is like explaining the wonders (I’m kidding) of Trigonometry to a cat.
I know you guys are curious about the “internal reasons” of my being a busy bee. Ha! I know you do. I haven’t any idea what’s wrong with me: I have lots of school requirements and responsibilities but I
still stupidly look for things to make my loads heavier. Maybe it’s my way of saying that school stuffs aren’t cool but my discoveries are. Ah, this is bad. Is this still part of the tempting power of a friend named procrastination?
What tops my “internal reasons of my being a busy bee” is my career as a confession typographies-maker. Yes, I can see myself doing this for a living (and whoever believes me believes that I can talk about Trigonometry to a cat). Eff Yeah Sam Concepcion (
EYSC) blog’s
Sam Concepcion Confessions is still running smoothly. I’ve already made, maybe, fifty confessions and posted them online for free reblogging, liking and loving. Although I make ten to fifteen typographies every session, I can definitely say that I’m running out of ideas. I don’t have lots of Sam Concepcion confessions myself, and okay, some of them I don’t want to share (
what, I’m keeping them between Sam and I!). EYSC followers aren’t submitting their own. This is not good for the work flow of the blog, and definitely atrocious for my future as a typographies-maker (again, Trigonometry and cats).
Weird enough, I’m currently
not reading anything right now (except for my academic books). I still haven’t finished
Modelland (Tyra Banks). My brain is still not ready for impossible fictions and hardcore imagination. But I will get back to reading. I will, I
swear. I will finish Tyra Bank’s brain’s product and hungrily and excitedly read
The City of Ember Series (Jeanne DuPrau),
The Hobbit (J. R. R. Tolkien) and
Clockwork Angel (
The Infernal Devices book one, Cassandra Clare). Amazing, more characters to love and hate, more stories to share (Mom once said that when I become a hag, I will probably talk about and share
Harry Potter to my grandchildren – I find this really true and sweet), more typographies to make. Yes, I not only make EYSC-SCC typogs, I had also “ventured” into quoting the
books I read and making them their own (
x,
xo,
xox). They’re really simple. I only use one format, one consistent font and one that is changeable, background colors that somehow remind me of the story or the book cover, and one photo editor installed in Pack. Because they’re inspired by books, they don’t get that much notes in Tumblr. The most popular of my typogs are the ones from
The Hush, Hush Saga (
x, they have maybe 30-50 notes). I hope books and/or reading won’t ever die. I don’t understand people who don’t like reading,
really.
I also count my weird dreams as “internal reasons”. I’m having weird, weirder and weirdest dreams. They are either so weird that they’re fascinating and wonderful to think about, or are so weird that they bug and disturb me in my yoga time (
yoga time, meaning my time for inner peace and productive loneliness, which I can insert in my schedule whenever I wanted to). I’ve dreamed for Sam Concepcion again – one in late December, the other just the last week. The former was “so weird that they’re fascinating and wonderful to think about”; the latter was “so weird that they bug and disturb me in my yoga time”. The former gave me a giddy dose of butterflies and the desire for it to happen in real life; the latter gave me sadness, the feeling of selfishness and oddness, and the desire for it to
not happen in real life. The latter was really weird, and to make it even weirder (
I make it weirder), Sam tweeted something about being the happiest he has ever been in his dream, even happier in real life. He was happy in his dream, while all along, he was crying in mine. And I’m
seriously making a big deal about it, as if our dreams are connected, as if it was a coincidence, as if it was
fate. I sound crazy and obsess, don’t I? I think so, too. This is the reason why I want to make Wonda already. I want to share that and my other dreams with you guys (so I won’t sound so unnerving anymore). Wonda, come now, eh?
I hope my dreams about Sam crying won’t happen again. I hope I will find Music and Sound Effects interesting someday. I also hope I can talk about Trigonometry to a cat (
what, if
Allison Harvard can do it, it’s not impossible that I can too!). I hope I can balance and juggle these external and internal reasons on my helpless, calloused hands. I hope I can still hope after all of these. And I sincerely hope you can still, too.
Wish Counter
01 January 2012, Saturday, from past 7 - 9 p.m.
Dear Wingardium,
Do you like your new name? I had a change of heart about keeping “DOWAC” as your nickname, because I’ll be naming your sisters “Wonda” and “Willow”. And I think that you should also have a name that starts with the same letter as theirs. I like Wingardium –
Wingardium Leviosa – one of my favorite charms taught to me by Prof Flitwick in our Charms classes back in Hogwarts.
How are you, Wingardium? Can I call you “Wings” from time to time? “Wingardium” is a bit long of a name since I’m just writing this down at the moment. Yes, Wings (Ooh, I like the word “wings” – reminds me of Patch Cipriano and flying), I’m using my pen and the back of my notebook just to talk to you. I don’t have the family laptop with me. But I hope Pack – what I now call him, since he’s a
Packard Bell – will be back soon. Your blog is long left behind. It’s upsetting to see it with only a month old post on its Home Page. We’ll get back to serious and acceptable blogging soon enough. Don’t fret, Wings.
I’m all alone this time. Good thing music is blaring – it isn’t that much of a creepy loneliness. I decided to write because... I’m tired. Yes, I can now write even if I’m dead beat. I realized that I can think of the things that bother and don’t bother me when I’m tired and exhausted. I came up with a theory about this phenomena: I use my brain more when I’m drained like shit since I can’t use my body to exert effort, so maybe my brain can do more. But I’m not sure if this theory
always applies to me.
Anyway, I’m quite sad because I lost my rosary bracelet. I put it in my pocket when we were having deadly practical exams in our softball class. Maybe it fell when I pulled my handkerchief out. I have a 1% chance of finding it again since I haven’t even an idea where I lost it. I’m so sad about it. I thought my relationship with the blessed bracelet would last for a year or two or more. It didn’t. We only had shared eight safe months together. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m not really a keeper.
“Iyiyi” by Cody Simpson is playing right now. This song always reminds me of First College Crush. I don’t want to elaborate why because it would be too obvious, and he would realize that he is FCC if ever he stupidly stumble in you (blog) again. I still like FCC, Wings. I don’t know why, really. Maybe because I didn’t actually have the chance to know him more or talk to him without me getting all lost and floating in the power of his dreamy eyes and fascinating smile (this is an element of speech), and without me getting all painted with red from my scalp down to my chest. I didn’t have that normal and comfortable moment with him while I was still in his school. I didn’t have the chance to really decide whether I like him or not because I didn’t
even know him. I left the school crushing on him – so up until now I’m crushing on him. And he’s always in my Friends Thumbnail List in my Facebook Timeline. I’m not sure if it’s really called “Friends Thumbnail List”, but he’s always there. I once formulated that it happens because he’s always checking my Timeline – but I just made that up to make my petty little self happy, and okay, to put a little dash of malice. I always see his face on that list to the point that it sometimes annoys me already. I want to know what that means, so I won’t think of unrealistic reasons again and get my hopes up when there isn’t hope to even begin with.
Wings, you know what, when I checked my Twitter account, I gained ten more followers. It only happens when: 1) someone retweets me and another person retweets that same tweet from that same someone and they fall in love with my tweet and they retweet and retweet and I become famous (which
barely happens); or 2) a famous person or a celebrity replies to or retweets my tweet. Can you guess what happened? Number 2, eh? Yes. Number 2. Yes, number 2: a famous person or a celebrity replies to or retweets my tweet! And can you guess who that person is? Sam Concepcion, eh? Yes. Yes, my dear Wings. It was Sam Concepcion – my freakin’ Sam freakin’ Concepcion! He replied to my tweet, which I wasn’t really, really, really expecting. He’s been so busy lately that I think he doesn’t even have the time to tweet frequently, let alone
reply to our tweets. Or that he doesn’t have the time to hit that dougie every time he hears the song. So that reply from him was really something. I feel so ridiculously special. What a way to start my year!
Although the tweet isn’t really for me, given the obvious fact that he said “Go Sam!” and not “Go Faye!”, I still feel so grateful. At least my username is in there! And I made that
video – actually, I forced my niece to sing in front of the camera. Isn’t Sam, my niece, the cutest? Isn’t Sam, my future boyfriend slash forever lover (I wish for and dream about this 8739602115690 times every beautiful, waking day) the sweetest? Oh, how I know that they would get along when I introduce Sam Concepcion to my relatives when the right time comes (8739602115691). And don’t worry, Wings, you and your sisters will meet him to someday too (8739602115692). And he would silly laugh at me when he reads my ridiculous entries about him (8739602115693). And I would silly laugh at him too because I seriously agree that my entries about him are ridiculous (8739602115694).
This is the life I’m having at the start of the year. Mom said it’s my year since I was born under the Chinese year of the Rooster. I hope that’s true. I hope Chinese predictions and hoolah-moolahs work with someone without a Chinese blood. Let’s do this, 2012!
Feeling Infinite
2012 Resolutions slash To-Do List
- Hear mass every week.
- Watch The Hunger Games movie. In 3D. With Zandro and Kathleen.
- Religiously watch every living The Vampire Diaries and The Secret Circle episode.
- Take make-up summer classes.
- Look for a freakishly fun summer job.
- Read and watch the news every day.
- Finish “Teenage Dreams” for heaven’s sake.
- Will I still buy Pop Class? And/or Forever Young? Geez.
- Take care of Fourthy (my eyeglasses).
- Put up a new blog (without leaving the old ones behind).
- Take care of my babies, Wingardium, Wonda and Willow (I will explain about them in my future posts).
- Save up for some new jeans, sneakers and endless books.
- Meet the Skittles Babies (Cezkieth Linson, Trisha Caranto and Marie Castillo), Patricia Sayurin, and my girlfriend, Sai Edris.
- Think more. Swear less.
- UNOS!
- Don’t be afraid to grow old (I’m creeping near 19).
- Go and see Sam Concepcion’s concert.
- Attend the Candy Fair 2012. With Diane, maybe.
- Stay happily single.
- Read the City of Ember series, Mockingjay, The Hobbit and etc.
- Watch The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
- Watch Breaking Dawn part 2. With Zandro and Kathleen.
- Spend the holidays in Bicol.
- Meet my grade school friends.
- Take a 15-30-minute walk every day.
- Try my best to avoid zits and unwanted entities on my body.
- Practice a healthy lifestyle.
- Make 2012 my freakin’ awesome year.
- Live a God-oriented, God-fearing and wonderful life.
2011 Recaps
2011 New Year’s Resolution slash To-Do List
- Watch “Shoutout!” live (it ended too soon)
- Join tours and conventions planned and organized by the school (x)
- Write more stories and songs, and finish what I started
- Leave a mark (a remembrance, in short) to my course-mates and my college friends (wasn’t able to meet them again)
- Transfer to UP Diliman (or anywhere) and take the course that I really want (like Journalism, Mass Communication, or Languages) (Ya know what happened. I am taking Broadcasting right now, though)
- Get a summer job in Fully Booked or any book store or anywhere safe (I didn’t. Crap)
- Purchase that black high cut shoes from Reeva, please! (I haven’t gone to Market! Market!)
- Join and sign up for a decent and active school organization or club
- Have a simple celebration on my 18th birthday (‘cause I hate grand debuts and cotillions)
- Gift for myself on my birthday (but I wouldn’t mind if you’d give me one)
- Watch and cry for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2 (Oh crap, so long Harry, Ron and Hermione – and Luna) (x)
- Attend the Candy Fair 2011 (x)
- Meet Sam Concepcion, the Elites and Samsters again
- Watch Peter Pan, The Musical (featuring Sam Concepcion!) (my heart is breaking right now)
- Watch The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn (I wanna see how Renesmee looks) (x)
- Read Mockingjay and The Immortal series
- Purchase Pop Class album (ha! I still haven’t)
- Spend the Holidays in Bicol (x)
- Meet my grade school friends again (x)
- Stay healthy, alive and forever young (forever young? I doubt)
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Bitter Coffee
23 December 2011, 4:35 - 6:29 a.m.
My three had-beens, one what-happened-between-us, two had-almosts and a couple of had-not-but-wished-it-hads; my grade school closest girl friend and my high school best friend: all either in a relationship or a part of the impossibly possible world of mutual understanding. One dating for more than two years; one just starting out; one in a complication but hanging on; one with a baby; one in a long distance relationship; one single but might be in love. They truly had found love in somebody else, maybe even in a hopeless place (it’s a love I’m feeling, I just can’t denyyyy).
Me? The introverted, weirdo and boring
me? Here. Writing this in a very inconvenient time, when everyone is still lost in the unfathomable wonders of dreams, when it isn’t even the crack of dawn but I already had consumed a cup of coffee (which isn’t really my thing), when it’s so serene and pleasantly quiet that I just had to think things over and achingly write it down at the back page of yet another customized notebook of mine. Feeling stupidly alone – literally and figuratively. Feeling so alone to the depths of missing my family. Alone to the depths of having the unwelcomed feeling of not having friends. Alone to the depths of unhappiness. Unhappy to the depths of loneliness.
It’s just... hard to understand.
Why, that after two years and ten months, do I still haven’t found love in even the most hopeless of all hopeless places?
Why, that after two years and ten months, am I still not ready for a relationship?
Why, that completely moved on, do I still feel that nobody loves me, a love in all its wonderful forms?
Why do I want and/or need love and
don’t want and/or need it at the same time?
Why do I think that I’m ready but still so afraid?
Why are my whys still
whys?
And why, why
freakin’ why, do I still feel a tiny bit of pain and jealousy when one of my had-beens had found love? It’s seriously annoying that I feel like it’s all so wrong and an act of pure selfishness – a selfishness that couldn’t be accepted, that is frankly immoral in the book of dating, that is always a bad thing in all its entity. I honestly can’t and don’t understand the aching stir of my emotions when I learned that he isn’t in a “Status: Single” anymore. I know – oh, how I know – that there isn’t romantic between us, completely nothing. No flicker of feelings that would spark up when applied with a little friction. No switch for affection that could be turned on and off through the course of time and civility. Nothing. Just a little care picked up and gathered from the amiably awkward past and years of shared platonic friendship. I know in my heart that I had completely moved on from the feelings I once had for this particularly funny, sarcastic and gentle of a guy.
Or maybe I haven’t. Maybe I once had the longing, the yearning desire for his time and his presence. Maybe I once thought of our short or maybe long time together when the second shot on love comes. It selfishly occurred to my mind that maybe there’s still a second chance and an endless hope for both of us. I once wished of having him back – which was
unacceptable, which was
impossible.
Maybe I just miss him. Maybe I just want someone to listen to my drama. Maybe I’m just used to having him around – physically or not – whenever I feel like nobody else is there for me. Maybe I grew fond of his late night phone calls. Maybe I took him for granted. Maybe I looked at it beyond the line, pushed unacceptably too far, falsely hoped too high, which frequently happens to me. Maybe I still like him but won’t consider it. Maybe I still haven’t moved on, albeit all the convincing I took like a bitter pill every waking day. Maybe I want that first ever millisecond hug we shared to last for more solid seconds, for more pleasant minutes. Maybe I felt that pull of my heart again, but he didn’t. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe he will never love me again like he used to. Maybe all we’d ever have and need is a special, harmless, caring friendship.
Just friendship: such a painful fact.
Maybe I should stop feeling this way and start moving on – for real. Because if not, I would just be living in a glass case of a past, blindly preferring the amiably awkward but cannot be undone memories; blindly disregarding the other world of the present and the future that are only half-gratifying but still awkward and can always be maneuvered and leave with no dash of regret and bitterness. Maybe I should stop relating my life to a Lady Antebellum song
“All We’d Ever Need” and start living with
“Ready To Love Again” as my mantra. Yeah, maybe I should. Maybe I should stop writing drama this early and
not drink caffeine anymore.
I sincerely hope I won’t be hurt and affected again had my had-beens, what-happened-between-us, had-almosts and had-not-but-wished-it-hads found love in the hopeful and hopeless places. And I hope I won’t feel alone to the depths of unhappiness and unhappy to the depths of loneliness anymore.
012412 Diecinueve
Nuestra Cita
(Our Rendezvous)
I first met him in Hogwarts’ Great Hall
Sitting alone, mystic and oh so calm
From Gryffindor, I’ve heard, strong and all
Serious? Heck no, just funny as a clown
I met him again in the dark, greeny, little Forks
Head down, walking with rained, tousled hair
I kept up with him, not minding my feet sore
With his laughter, the pain I almost can bear
I met him once more in the depths of lonely Seam
Looking so far away, lost in his own space
I sat with him, talked, and we made some team
I will not forget his smile, el hombre and that face
I met him again – oh wait, I met him always
He was still the same: brave, calm, a clown
Still the same, wandering in this life maze
Smiles that always reaches his big, big browns
We may face hovering, soulless Dementors
Rally against the Volturri and the Capitol
But we just knock on each other’s familiar doors
Dementors, Volturri, Capitol, all just trolls
We may have the most unfortunate of times
Caused by hunger, some stress or just because
But we’re cool, young, roll like colorful dice
We go loco, foolish and dougie like a boss
Four years since the lucky day I met him
The day I had some amigo to call the best
Un amigo whom unto I can forever lean
Whom I can run to and talk endless
I am forever grateful for this Gryffindor dude
The one I met in rainy Forks and the quiet Seam
The one with the big browns and changing moods
And always, I will all over again, gladly meet him
Happy birthday, Zandro! I wager my life you’re hysterically laughing your butt off while reading this. Heck, I know that you know that we both know that I haven’t any writing talent and creativity with poems. But I tried my best. Yes, this is the best I could come up with. But I hope you get my point. The Great Hall, Forks and the Seam are representations of the movies we religiously have seen, are seeing and will see together (and now with Kathleen – our new recruit). And in two months, we will meet again. I love you. I’ll see you in the Seam soon.
PS: Don’t you ever brag this to your friends. They’ll realize how troll and epic failure your best friend is with poetry. Have mercy.
Ultra Mundane Cats and Bees
Everybody’s been so busy, don’t you think? Even I. Yes, finally, I can now completely say that I’m busy, both because of external (meaning school activities, projects and all types of shits) and internal (meaning activities that I come up with and do to make myself busy) reasons. Pack is not good right now. He is under a very pitiful condition, caused by unshielded viruses and complete carelessness of the owners (which are my brother and I). I have no idea how to repair laptops. I’m not a computer engineering student. I know HTML (wow, that’s something new), but not commands and deadly codes. I hope Pack will get better soon.
My student life is going well. My Biology professor knows my name already; he uses either Christine or Faye when he calls me (which is unusual). Because of that, I’m not so much of a scaredy cat around him anymore, unlike before (he gave me uneasy feelings and ridiculous paranoia). What I’m now anxious and worried about is my performance in Music and Sound Effects. Weird, I do well in my minor subjects. But in my majors, I flunk like whatever flunks the most. I don’t find the stated subject interesting. I
want to, but I just
can’t. Maybe because we don’t have hands-on exercises and pushing buttons and adjusting volumes yet. I’m really worried because I feel that my participation grades are just as interesting and exciting as how I find the subject. I gave my professor one word answers and no further explanations every time I was asked about particular topics. Seriously, I cannot explain music. I can listen to it all day (or maybe forever), learn its words and all until I can sing it in my sleep, cry while listening to it, but geez, I
can’t explain them. Can I explain why I cry? Can I explain why I’m addicted to a song? Can I explain why I play and replay a song a lot of times to the point that I become responsible for the 500,000 views in a video with a million hits? Attempting so is like explaining the wonders (I’m kidding) of Trigonometry to a cat.
I know you guys are curious about the “internal reasons” of my being a busy bee. Ha! I know you do. I haven’t any idea what’s wrong with me: I have lots of school requirements and responsibilities but I
still stupidly look for things to make my loads heavier. Maybe it’s my way of saying that school stuffs aren’t cool but my discoveries are. Ah, this is bad. Is this still part of the tempting power of a friend named procrastination?
What tops my “internal reasons of my being a busy bee” is my career as a confession typographies-maker. Yes, I can see myself doing this for a living (and whoever believes me believes that I can talk about Trigonometry to a cat). Eff Yeah Sam Concepcion (
EYSC) blog’s
Sam Concepcion Confessions is still running smoothly. I’ve already made, maybe, fifty confessions and posted them online for free reblogging, liking and loving. Although I make ten to fifteen typographies every session, I can definitely say that I’m running out of ideas. I don’t have lots of Sam Concepcion confessions myself, and okay, some of them I don’t want to share (
what, I’m keeping them between Sam and I!). EYSC followers aren’t submitting their own. This is not good for the work flow of the blog, and definitely atrocious for my future as a typographies-maker (again, Trigonometry and cats).
Weird enough, I’m currently
not reading anything right now (except for my academic books). I still haven’t finished
Modelland (Tyra Banks). My brain is still not ready for impossible fictions and hardcore imagination. But I will get back to reading. I will, I
swear. I will finish Tyra Bank’s brain’s product and hungrily and excitedly read
The City of Ember Series (Jeanne DuPrau),
The Hobbit (J. R. R. Tolkien) and
Clockwork Angel (
The Infernal Devices book one, Cassandra Clare). Amazing, more characters to love and hate, more stories to share (Mom once said that when I become a hag, I will probably talk about and share
Harry Potter to my grandchildren – I find this really true and sweet), more typographies to make. Yes, I not only make EYSC-SCC typogs, I had also “ventured” into quoting the
books I read and making them their own (
x,
xo,
xox). They’re really simple. I only use one format, one consistent font and one that is changeable, background colors that somehow remind me of the story or the book cover, and one photo editor installed in Pack. Because they’re inspired by books, they don’t get that much notes in Tumblr. The most popular of my typogs are the ones from
The Hush, Hush Saga (
x, they have maybe 30-50 notes). I hope books and/or reading won’t ever die. I don’t understand people who don’t like reading,
really.
I also count my weird dreams as “internal reasons”. I’m having weird, weirder and weirdest dreams. They are either so weird that they’re fascinating and wonderful to think about, or are so weird that they bug and disturb me in my yoga time (
yoga time, meaning my time for inner peace and productive loneliness, which I can insert in my schedule whenever I wanted to). I’ve dreamed for Sam Concepcion again – one in late December, the other just the last week. The former was “so weird that they’re fascinating and wonderful to think about”; the latter was “so weird that they bug and disturb me in my yoga time”. The former gave me a giddy dose of butterflies and the desire for it to happen in real life; the latter gave me sadness, the feeling of selfishness and oddness, and the desire for it to
not happen in real life. The latter was really weird, and to make it even weirder (
I make it weirder), Sam tweeted something about being the happiest he has ever been in his dream, even happier in real life. He was happy in his dream, while all along, he was crying in mine. And I’m
seriously making a big deal about it, as if our dreams are connected, as if it was a coincidence, as if it was
fate. I sound crazy and obsess, don’t I? I think so, too. This is the reason why I want to make Wonda already. I want to share that and my other dreams with you guys (so I won’t sound so unnerving anymore). Wonda, come now, eh?
I hope my dreams about Sam crying won’t happen again. I hope I will find Music and Sound Effects interesting someday. I also hope I can talk about Trigonometry to a cat (
what, if
Allison Harvard can do it, it’s not impossible that I can too!). I hope I can balance and juggle these external and internal reasons on my helpless, calloused hands. I hope I can still hope after all of these. And I sincerely hope you can still, too.
Wish Counter
01 January 2012, Saturday, from past 7 - 9 p.m.
Dear Wingardium,
Do you like your new name? I had a change of heart about keeping “DOWAC” as your nickname, because I’ll be naming your sisters “Wonda” and “Willow”. And I think that you should also have a name that starts with the same letter as theirs. I like Wingardium –
Wingardium Leviosa – one of my favorite charms taught to me by Prof Flitwick in our Charms classes back in Hogwarts.
How are you, Wingardium? Can I call you “Wings” from time to time? “Wingardium” is a bit long of a name since I’m just writing this down at the moment. Yes, Wings (Ooh, I like the word “wings” – reminds me of Patch Cipriano and flying), I’m using my pen and the back of my notebook just to talk to you. I don’t have the family laptop with me. But I hope Pack – what I now call him, since he’s a
Packard Bell – will be back soon. Your blog is long left behind. It’s upsetting to see it with only a month old post on its Home Page. We’ll get back to serious and acceptable blogging soon enough. Don’t fret, Wings.
I’m all alone this time. Good thing music is blaring – it isn’t that much of a creepy loneliness. I decided to write because... I’m tired. Yes, I can now write even if I’m dead beat. I realized that I can think of the things that bother and don’t bother me when I’m tired and exhausted. I came up with a theory about this phenomena: I use my brain more when I’m drained like shit since I can’t use my body to exert effort, so maybe my brain can do more. But I’m not sure if this theory
always applies to me.
Anyway, I’m quite sad because I lost my rosary bracelet. I put it in my pocket when we were having deadly practical exams in our softball class. Maybe it fell when I pulled my handkerchief out. I have a 1% chance of finding it again since I haven’t even an idea where I lost it. I’m so sad about it. I thought my relationship with the blessed bracelet would last for a year or two or more. It didn’t. We only had shared eight safe months together. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m not really a keeper.
“Iyiyi” by Cody Simpson is playing right now. This song always reminds me of First College Crush. I don’t want to elaborate why because it would be too obvious, and he would realize that he is FCC if ever he stupidly stumble in you (blog) again. I still like FCC, Wings. I don’t know why, really. Maybe because I didn’t actually have the chance to know him more or talk to him without me getting all lost and floating in the power of his dreamy eyes and fascinating smile (this is an element of speech), and without me getting all painted with red from my scalp down to my chest. I didn’t have that normal and comfortable moment with him while I was still in his school. I didn’t have the chance to really decide whether I like him or not because I didn’t
even know him. I left the school crushing on him – so up until now I’m crushing on him. And he’s always in my Friends Thumbnail List in my Facebook Timeline. I’m not sure if it’s really called “Friends Thumbnail List”, but he’s always there. I once formulated that it happens because he’s always checking my Timeline – but I just made that up to make my petty little self happy, and okay, to put a little dash of malice. I always see his face on that list to the point that it sometimes annoys me already. I want to know what that means, so I won’t think of unrealistic reasons again and get my hopes up when there isn’t hope to even begin with.
Wings, you know what, when I checked my Twitter account, I gained ten more followers. It only happens when: 1) someone retweets me and another person retweets that same tweet from that same someone and they fall in love with my tweet and they retweet and retweet and I become famous (which
barely happens); or 2) a famous person or a celebrity replies to or retweets my tweet. Can you guess what happened? Number 2, eh? Yes. Number 2. Yes, number 2: a famous person or a celebrity replies to or retweets my tweet! And can you guess who that person is? Sam Concepcion, eh? Yes. Yes, my dear Wings. It was Sam Concepcion – my freakin’ Sam freakin’ Concepcion! He replied to my tweet, which I wasn’t really, really, really expecting. He’s been so busy lately that I think he doesn’t even have the time to tweet frequently, let alone
reply to our tweets. Or that he doesn’t have the time to hit that dougie every time he hears the song. So that reply from him was really something. I feel so ridiculously special. What a way to start my year!
Although the tweet isn’t really for me, given the obvious fact that he said “Go Sam!” and not “Go Faye!”, I still feel so grateful. At least my username is in there! And I made that
video – actually, I forced my niece to sing in front of the camera. Isn’t Sam, my niece, the cutest? Isn’t Sam, my future boyfriend slash forever lover (I wish for and dream about this 8739602115690 times every beautiful, waking day) the sweetest? Oh, how I know that they would get along when I introduce Sam Concepcion to my relatives when the right time comes (8739602115691). And don’t worry, Wings, you and your sisters will meet him to someday too (8739602115692). And he would silly laugh at me when he reads my ridiculous entries about him (8739602115693). And I would silly laugh at him too because I seriously agree that my entries about him are ridiculous (8739602115694).
This is the life I’m having at the start of the year. Mom said it’s my year since I was born under the Chinese year of the Rooster. I hope that’s true. I hope Chinese predictions and hoolah-moolahs work with someone without a Chinese blood. Let’s do this, 2012!
Feeling Infinite
2012 Resolutions slash To-Do List
- Hear mass every week.
- Watch The Hunger Games movie. In 3D. With Zandro and Kathleen.
- Religiously watch every living The Vampire Diaries and The Secret Circle episode.
- Take make-up summer classes.
- Look for a freakishly fun summer job.
- Read and watch the news every day.
- Finish “Teenage Dreams” for heaven’s sake.
- Will I still buy Pop Class? And/or Forever Young? Geez.
- Take care of Fourthy (my eyeglasses).
- Put up a new blog (without leaving the old ones behind).
- Take care of my babies, Wingardium, Wonda and Willow (I will explain about them in my future posts).
- Save up for some new jeans, sneakers and endless books.
- Meet the Skittles Babies (Cezkieth Linson, Trisha Caranto and Marie Castillo), Patricia Sayurin, and my girlfriend, Sai Edris.
- Think more. Swear less.
- UNOS!
- Don’t be afraid to grow old (I’m creeping near 19).
- Go and see Sam Concepcion’s concert.
- Attend the Candy Fair 2012. With Diane, maybe.
- Stay happily single.
- Read the City of Ember series, Mockingjay, The Hobbit and etc.
- Watch The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
- Watch Breaking Dawn part 2. With Zandro and Kathleen.
- Spend the holidays in Bicol.
- Meet my grade school friends.
- Take a 15-30-minute walk every day.
- Try my best to avoid zits and unwanted entities on my body.
- Practice a healthy lifestyle.
- Make 2012 my freakin’ awesome year.
- Live a God-oriented, God-fearing and wonderful life.
2011 Recaps
2011 New Year’s Resolution slash To-Do List
- Watch “Shoutout!” live (it ended too soon)
- Join tours and conventions planned and organized by the school (x)
- Write more stories and songs, and finish what I started
- Leave a mark (a remembrance, in short) to my course-mates and my college friends (wasn’t able to meet them again)
- Transfer to UP Diliman (or anywhere) and take the course that I really want (like Journalism, Mass Communication, or Languages) (Ya know what happened. I am taking Broadcasting right now, though)
- Get a summer job in Fully Booked or any book store or anywhere safe (I didn’t. Crap)
- Purchase that black high cut shoes from Reeva, please! (I haven’t gone to Market! Market!)
- Join and sign up for a decent and active school organization or club
- Have a simple celebration on my 18th birthday (‘cause I hate grand debuts and cotillions)
- Gift for myself on my birthday (but I wouldn’t mind if you’d give me one)
- Watch and cry for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2 (Oh crap, so long Harry, Ron and Hermione – and Luna) (x)
- Attend the Candy Fair 2011 (x)
- Meet Sam Concepcion, the Elites and Samsters again
- Watch Peter Pan, The Musical (featuring Sam Concepcion!) (my heart is breaking right now)
- Watch The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn (I wanna see how Renesmee looks) (x)
- Read Mockingjay and The Immortal series
- Purchase Pop Class album (ha! I still haven’t)
- Spend the Holidays in Bicol (x)
- Meet my grade school friends again (x)
- Stay healthy, alive and forever young (forever young? I doubt)
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
