:)

How foolish it is to think that we love only with our hearts. The heart is just an organ with a job to do, a quota to fill. When I love, I don't want to love with a blood-pumping machine. I want to love with every inch of my body.

I will love you with my knees and my fingertips, with my elbows and my collarbones. With my eyes and my knuckles, my wrinkles and my scars.

And I will love you with the space in between.

“There are two types of waiting. There’s the the waiting you do for something you know is coming, sooner or later—like waiting for the 6:28 train, or the school bus, or a party where a certain handsome boy might be. And then there’s the waiting for something you don’t know is coming. You don’t even know what it is exactly, but you’re hoping for it. You’re imagining it and living your life for it. That’s the kind of waiting that makes a fist in your heart.”

wordsthat-speak, Tumblr>

Fun Learning

My title looks like some kind of promotional paraphernalia for school advertising.

The first sentence looks redundant because of the words "paraphernalia" and "advertising." Whatever.

Anyway, I just want to give notice to my laziness in studying. When I was in high school, learning seems to be fun. Now it feels so frustrating. I am not gonna elaborate on this but I think that the main reason why I am in such a mood is because of the environment. Mainly, the competition in the room. Again, no elaboration on my part. There are just things that are hard to explain and hard to comprehend. This is one of them.

I just wonder why everything used to go my way and now it feels like things are starting to fall apart for me.

Jealous

Sabi nila, kapag daw madalas na basa ng pawis ung ilong mo, seloso/selosa ka raw. Hidni ako naniniwala dito. Bakit? Kasi lahat naman ng normal na tao may pores sa ilong. Malamang pagpapawisan iyon. Iyan lagi ang iniisip ko kapag pinupuna nila yung basa ng ilong ko. Kasi base sa experience ko na kahit na pawisin yung ilong ko, hindi ko masasabing ako yung jealous type.

But earlier, I felt it. REALLY felt it. Before, when I see the two of them talking and interacting, I usually brush it off like it's nothing. But today it was different. I felt that longing to be talked to the way you talk to her. Because you do not talk to me that way. I feel like I'm not the person you are closer to. And I admit it hurts. It really does. It's like the feeling of being ignored and-- worse-- of being rejected even if there was no direct ignorance and rejection being made.

But then I realized that jealousy is not a foreign emotion. We all get jealous sometimes. It's because you care and love that person that fear gets associated with that love. You fear that one day you'll never be the person   he/she wants to talk to. You fear that once they find that other person who could probably replace you and could probably be better than you, they'll leave you. In the end, it's all about your fears and your insecurities. So that's why I do not want to let this affect me much. I trust in my relationship with her. She's my friend. Whatever happens, even if I get insanely jealous, I want her to know that I'll always be here even if I'm not the person she always wants to talk to with her troubles and her joys, for that matter. I want her to know that I'll still listen and just be here... waiting. 

Someone's starting to get on my nerves. She's such a brat and a know-it-all. She doesn't even have an ounce of respect for me. She orders me around like I'm functioned to do all her bidding. She ridicules me most of the time. And I can't tell her to fuck off because I love her and I do not want to hurt her feelings.

She's such a bitch and she's my sister.

Dress

I am sticking to my word yesterday that I will keep this up. But it seems like I have nothing to say for today. Nothing much happened at school since both of our professors did not attend class. As usual we went to SM but we did not do anything... much. Maybe just waste money.

I wore a dress at school today. People were amazed. Haha. No. They were awfully surprised. They never thought I would wear one. They teased me about my arms. It made me a little insecure but they don't have to know about that. Let's just continue with the facade that I am confident and unfazed.

Total Quality Management

Before I start with this blog post, let me just say that I feel the same things Nica is feeling. Read those here.

What am I going to write, anyway? I don't know how to start, actually. All I know is I want to write how my day went and I want to do it everyday. Or at least write about my days when there are eventful happenings in my life. Like today, for example.

As you all know (or maybe not know... or care), today is my first day of summer classes for my second year in college. Everything was pretty fine, I guess. I was early and sweaty coming to school since I went there in the afternoon. Traffic was expected. Good thing I'm already used to it. If I wasn't, then maybe I will reach school in an unpleasant mood.

We only have one subject for today. It's a 4.5-hour class. I was actually expecting it to be boring but luckily, it was not. Our professor, Sir J, was humorous and witty and smart, I got hooked to the class. Three hours has passed and I didn't even notice. The class was actually having so much fun!

What I like most about our professor was that he is a book-lover... LIKE ME! He asked the class who are into reading for leisure and said that his office is open if we ever decided to borrow a book from him. IF WE EVER DECIDED TO BORROW A BOOK FROM HIM! So that means I can borrow just about anything I like. But of course, I'll return it. And take care of it. I live by the motto, "Do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you." It those were my books, I wouldn't want anyone borrowing and returning them in a not-so-good condition. Hell, I wouldn't want anyone borrowing them. Period. Especially strangers... It was very kind of him to entrust us with the responsibility of taking care of his book... if we ever decided to borrow one.

Sir J is the first professor whom I liked from the very beginning. He's a very laid back guy and perceptive, I guess, based on the activities he made us do earlier. I actually mentioned to Mika that Sir J is like the guy-version of myself. He took up Accountancy because when he was making a decision for a college program, Accountancy seemed to be a logical choice. But after graduating and not passing the board exam, he took up another program. I wonder if this will happen to me too...

It was also nice seeing my friends again after almost three weeks of summer vacation. I miss their loudness and... that's it. Haha. But I miss laughing with them more.

I'll try writing again tomorrow. In the meantime...

I just realized a few things while browsing through Facebook. It's just... it's been two years since I graduated high school and still, I can't shake off the feeling of nostalgia everytime I think about our moments. But I guess that's just it. Those are only moments now. Memories.

And then there's the feeling that we were all once friends but now ended up as acquaintances. Or even strangers. Somehow I think it's even my fault for not staying in touch. And how could I after what happened at the last days of our high school life? It was actually not my burden to bear. There was no offense sent directly to me but I felt like I was obliged to hate them, too. But after the storm, all I could think of were the happy memories and not the bad ones. If you would even weigh them, there really are lots of happy moments. And these people, they were the ones I was with.

It just saddens me that we have come to this point. Not that I regret anything my friends and I did. I love them and all my support goes to them first. I guess I just can't stop thinking of them, my classmates. And how I miss them. And how I hope I see them again and make new memories with them. I hope one day everyone can get past the grudges and... I don't know. See what happens, I guess.

Date A Girl Who Writes

NOTE: I saw this post on Tumblr (credits to byleister). And I wanted to have it here on my blog because... JUST BECAUSE. READ IT. 

Date a girl who writes.

Date a girl who may never wear completely clean clothes, because of coffee stains and ink spills. She’ll have many problems with her closet space, and her laptop is never boring because there are so many words, so many worlds that she’s cluttered amidst the space. Tabs open filled with obscure and popular music.

Interesting factoids about Catherine the Great, and the immortality of jellyfish. Laugh it off when she tells you that she forgot to clean her room, that her clothes are lost among the binders so it’ll take her longer to get ready, that her shoes hidden under the mountain of broken Bic pens and the refurbished laptop that she’s saved for ever since she was twelve.

Kiss her under the lamppost, when it’s raining. Tell her your definition of love.

Find a girl who writes. You’ll know that she has a sense of humor, a sense of empathy and kindness, and that she will dream up worlds, universes for you. She’s the one with the faintest of shadows underneath her eyelids, the one who smells of coffee and Coca-cola and jasmine green tea. You see that girl hunched over a notebook. That’s the writer. With her fingers occasionally smudged with charcoal, with ink that will travel onto your hands when you interlock your fingers with her’s. She will never stop, churning out adventures, of traitors and heroes. Darkness and light. Fear and love. That’s the writer. She can never resist filling a blank page with words, whatever the color of the page is.

She’s the girl reading while waiting for her coffee and tea. She’s the quiet girl with her music turned up loud (or impossibly quiet), separating the two of you by an ocean of crescendos and decrescendos as she’s thinking of the perfect words. If you take a peek at her cup, the tea or coffee’s already cold. She’s already forgotten it.

Use a pick-up line with her if she doesn’t look to busy.

If she raises her head, offer to buy her another cup of coffee. Or of tea. She’ll repay you with stories. If she closes her laptop, give her your critique of Tolstoy, and your best theories of Hannibal and the Crossing. Tell her your characters, your dreams, and ask if she gotten through her first novel.

It is hard to date a girl who writes. But be patient with her. Give her books for her birthday, pretty notebooks for Christmas and for anniversaries, moleskins and bookmarks and many, many books. Give her the gift of words, for writers are talkative people, and they are verbose in their thanks. Let her know that you’re behind her every step of the way, for the lines between fiction and reality are fluid.

She’ll give you a chance.

Don’t lie to her. She’ll understand the syntax behind your words. She’ll be disappointed by your lies, but a girl who writes will understand. She’ll understand that sometimes even the greatest heroes fail, and that happy endings take time, both in fiction and reality. She’s realistic. A girl who writes isn’t impatient; she will understand your flaws. She will cherish them, because a girl who writes will understand plot. She’ll understand that endings happen for better or for worst.

A girl who writes will not expect perfection from you. Her narratives are rich, her characters are multifaceted because of interesting flaws. She’ll understand that a good book does not have perfect characters; villains and tragic flaws are the salt of books. She’ll understand trouble, because it spices up her story. No author wants an invincible hero; the girl who writes will understand that you are only human.

Be her compatriot, be her darling, her love, her dream, her world.

If you find a girl who writes, keep her close. If you find her at two AM, typing furiously, the neon gaze of the light illuminating her furrowed forehead, place a blanket gently on her so that she does not catch a chill. Make her a pot of tea, and sit with her. You may lose her to her world for a few moments, but she will come back to you, brimming with treasure. You will believe in her every single time, the two of you illuminated only by the computer screen, but invincible in the darkness.

She is your Shahrazad. When you are afraid of the dark, she will guide you, her words turning into lanterns, turning into lights and stars and candles that will guide you through your darkest times. She’ll be the one to save you.

She’ll whisk you away on a hot air balloon, and you will be smitten with her. She’s mischievous, frisky, yet she’s quiet and when she has to kill off a lovely character, when she cries, hold her and tell her that it will be alright.

You will propose to her. Maybe on a boat in the ocean, maybe in a little cottage in the Appalachian Mountains. Maybe in New York City. Maybe Chicago. Baltimore. Maybe outside her publisher’s office. Because she’s radiant, wherever she goes. Maybe even outside of a cinema where the two of you kiss in the rain. She’ll say that it is overused and clichéd, but the glint in her eyes will tell you that she appreciates it all the same.

You will smile hard as she talks a mile a second, and your heart will skip a beat when she holds your hand and she will write stories of your lives together. She’ll hold you close and whisper secrets into your ears. She’s lovely, remember that. She’s self made and she’s brilliant. Her names for the children might be terrible, but you’ll be okay with that. A girl who writes will tell your children fantastical stories.

Because that is the best part about a girl who writes. She has imagination and she has courage, and it will be enough. She’ll save you in the oceans of her dreams, and she’ll be your catharsis and your 11:11. She’ll be your firebird and she’ll be your knight, and she’ll become your world, in the curve of her smile, in the hazel of her eye the half-dimple on her face, the words that are pouring out of her, a torrent, a wave, a crescendo - so many sensations that you will be left breathless by a girl who writes.

Maybe she’s not the best at grammar, but that is okay.

Date a girl who writes because you deserve it. She’s witty, she’s empathetic, enigmatic at times and she’s lovely. She’s got the most colorful life. She may be living in NYC or she may be living in a small cottage. Date a girl who writes because a girl who writes reads.

A girl who writes will understand reality. She’ll be infuriating at times, and maybe sometimes you will hate her. Sometimes she will hate you too. But a girl who writes understands human nature, and she will understand that you are weak. She will not leave on the Midnight Train the first moment that things go sour. She will understand that real life isn’t like a story, because while she works in stories, she lives in reality.

Date a girl who writes.

Because there is nothing better than a girl who writes.

Hopeless Romantic

- Alex by Lauren Oliver



Bakit wala nang ganito? I want this... SOMEDAY. Balang araw may magsusulat din ng ganito para sa 'kin. Pero grabe, ang hopeless romantic ko talaga. Still, proud ako. Bakit buh? Hahaha. 

Drama Much

Sometimes—okay MOST OF THE TIME—I look at my classmates and wonder why I am not like them when it comes to studying. While they are busy answering our lessons in advance, I am usually surfing the net or reading a good book. While they are preparing for quizzes, I am dancing around in my room pretending I’m a superstar in concert.

And then when I look at my grades at the end of a semester, I get disappointed. I always mutter, “I should’ve been like THEM.” But I’m not. I never will be. Then I tell myself to study harder. But I don’t.

I just don’t. Because I’m not like them and I will never be. 

Awww... Ang tagal ko nang hindi nagsusulat ng blog. Sa sobrang daming nangyayari sa buhay ko, nakakalungkot dahil hindi ko na naisusulat yung mga moment na iyon. Ang effective kaya ng blog. Kapag binabalikan ko 'yung mga dati kong entry, naiisip ko lahat ng kalokohan ko. Ungh! Makapag-blog na nga uli! Stress reliever. Kahit na walang nagbabasa... Yun talaga 'yun eh!