New Year Resolutions

1) Learn Spanish.
2) Be less self involved. Plan ahead. Be more organised and neat.
3) Learn diving.
4) Learn to like eating vegetables.
5) Read more storybooks.
6) Fast in the year.
7) Treasure friendships more by investing more time in them.
8) This is the big one -- Get over my fear of public speaking.

people are more complex than you can ever understand

Bibik was at my house as usual, she comes every two or once a week to clean the house. I just got my pay and it crossed my mind to give her $20, which I think is a fair amount for the work she does cleaning the house so I don't get nagged at to do it. She was sitting in the dark at the balcony when I approached her with notes in hand. She refused to take it from me. I thought she was just being... polite? dutiful? a good hardworking person who doesnt take handouts? and i insisted on giving it to her. she started crying like FOR REALZ and so i backed off. And then i felt bad cos i made her cry. I asked her what she was sad about and she didnt answer... she said she just felt touched.

i keep going over what i did wrong. i dont think the crying was caused by me trying to give her money per se. i think i just interrupted her thoughts while she was in the dark. and triggerred something by my kindness? i will never know what she is thinking about. and i guess the more good hearted someone is, the more impossible it is to understand them. it's a sign of God really, that we can all inside us be so deep and opaque that perhaps no one else will be able to see and understand our secrets.

You don't know how much I miss you

Looks like I've been away long enough for blogspot to get a new face. i think of you. not a day goes by that you don't cross my mind, and i don't wonder how you're doing, and i think of texting you to ask you how you're coping. i miss you. i miss your honesty. i miss your quiet listening way. i miss your foolishness. i miss you. but i have to stop liking you for myself.

post call blues

So this is how it feels to be affected by an event. Mass call was yesterday, tomorrow im officially starting work as a first yearassociate. All my life ive never really been bothered by "mile stones". I have always ,managed to distance myself from the institutions i joined, like sec sch, jc, and uni, and never felt the sorrow of parting with those institutions. Graduation never meant much to me. But now, its different. Its so different i feel compelled to write about it. I must be feeling the sorrow of parting? But not parting with a sch or friends... Its parting with childhood, surely. It is the end of innocence, of cluelessness, of unintentional mistakes, of mucking ard and being able to be vague and not give two hoots either way. Surely, i have to grow up now. My time has star ted. To run out. And i miss you right now. I miss not being able to tell you what has happened and how i feel abt it. I dont miss the way things were, of course. Me forced to build walls beause of the invisible knife you had in your hand. But i realise that i might have been cruel towards you too. Maybe neither of us were fair to the other. Maybe recognising this is part of growing up. Still i miss you. Maybe tmr ill text you. But in all odds, i probably wont. I wish you well, friend. I need to stop havinh feelings for ppl who will never tell me they have feelings for me too. Who will never give any indication, who will never get me out of living in my head. Maybe its a choice, who to like. I want to choose rightly now. I want to vet my choices and be careful. Because living only in my head may give me all the choices i want, but guess, its stillfantasyland and i still get dealt the sad and alone card. So goodbye allen. You are yet another guy who will never tell me what i need to hear.

Acne

I am getting that panicky stressed out feeling again when I look in the mirror and see the red angry welts and black marks on my face. U.G.H. I remember freaking out in JC and actually crying and feeling suicidal over it one night. I wanted to take a kinfe to my skin and draw blood. Or to my face to dig out my acne. Looking back, I really wonder how I pulled through that night, that whole period in general? To feel so ugly, and not know what's causing it and how to fix, and to make things worse and to crave for your face to get better right away. Ugh, ugh, ugh, ughhhh. And now I feel like I'm being pulled back like an irresistible magnet to that place. It's not like I haven't tried anything! I've tried. I've spent what, close to $6000 now on facials? I've tried going off milk, I've tried drinking more water. I tried antibiotics. I've tried damnit! I dread the thought of going out tomorrow so so so so much. I need to pile on the makeup, and even that won't really conceal anything, just make me feel like my face is halfway more acceptable to look at. So shut up ok? Yes, I really spent that much. Yes, it didn't work. It isn't your cross to bear, so it's easy for you to say I'm doing something expensive and useless. Really, shut up. I remember how insensitive you were when I was having my exams. You scolded me about my acne and made me cry while I was eating lunch. I don't know what's your problem sometimes. Do you think I wished this on myself,like I wanted to waste all that freaking money??? It's no wonder I don't have a boyfriend. It's no wonder no one like me. My face is gross, ok. SO PLEASE. Just shut up about it. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm at my wits end. I'm tired of this fight. of not even knowing how to fight this fight, what to do next. I just need a break. I'm 24. It's not getting better. I;ve lived with it for the better part of 8 years. I'm so tired of feeling ugly and cursed

Reading through previous posts, I realised almost all of them are Declaratory posts. Things I discovered/decided and put down as factual statements, to convince myself that I'm convinced of them. Cos hey, you're perception is your reality right? I wish my reality was just that; real to me without me having to build it up consciously.

Believing in love is like believing in Santa Claus.

All my days

I should do something with my life. I'm getting older, it's going to creep up on me. Suddenly I will wake up and find that I'm thirty years old, and I will still be the same person in the same place. I will wonder where all that time went, and I will have regrets. I fear an age of regrets.

if my pride was tangible and i could gather it and pile it up in my hands, how big would it be and how much would it weigh?

I cannot forgive you for not telling me if you're working on the case that might destroy the firm I'm working in. Because for once in quite a long time, I realise I'm pretty contented. Pretty happy. I feel I could work with this, you know. This job. It gives me space and time to breathe, and be myself. Get the recognition and trust that I crave, and friendships that I enjoy.

The suit threatens that. You're my friend. You should've told me if you knew. If you cared at all.

It's ok to hurt, it won't hurt forever.
It's ok to be angry, and confused, and weak.

One day it'll all fall into place.

"He will be your next target."

I hated it when you said that. I know you meant no malice of course, you were just being Mel. Going with your super-strong female instinct, knowing things as if you were born knowing them and telling it like it is.

But still i resented it, because you meant it. You didnt mean it as a joke. And if you really knew me, i've only really been in love with only two guys in my entire life. Andy and Allen. That deserves a little acknowledgement doesn't it? It's not like I'm ready to fall in love with any guy that comes along.

And why can't ppl respect that I go with my gut instincts when I make all decisions in life. REALLY i do. i dont plan things, i dont calculate them and weigh all options and have a flowchart for how my life will pan out. trust me, i wish i did. maybe i dont because i'm too afraid of disapointment. so that makes me a coward. so what? kindly mind your own tepi kain.

it also makes everything that happens an anecdote. i like to make ppl laugh and be amused. but my anecdotes are also my failures. don't you see? every anecdote is the lack of success. so laugh, but don't ever make fun, and don't presume you know the next thing about me and how i will come across my anecdote.

like i said, i dont plan my life. neither should you plan it for me.

I can't decide whether to give up on you or keep hanging on

clear history?

it's good to learn from the past. my mistakes, my experiences, my struggles, the journey i've been through. there is good in the journey by itself.

but sometimes i want to be new. to erase all the negatives i seemed to pick up so easily from all the guys i've fallen for, turned to, found comfort and friendship in, kept secrets from. im tired of picking up and keeping negatives. they seemed to have made a home in my chest and cast a dark cloud over my heart. the best thing is, i dont think i learned anything...

it's like the pop up that says "this browser has 999 cookies" and i just kept pressing "continue". the future is so bleak. perhaps because what im heading to, is already is a page in my past? i dont feel new. i feel trapped, going in reverse.

i still don't get it. she seems so basic and you seem quite different. is that why you're not 100% committed to her? am i just an innocent passer-by that somehow became the side casualty of your doubt.

whatever. i refuse. i make a judgment, right now, that i won't be a part of it anymore. no matter who else is or isn't there.

i wont be like you, or E. i wont be that girl who settles. i'll be with someone who interests and surprises me all the time. i would rather be alone than be with someone i'm not 100% committed to.

challenge to self

I am going to try staying up through the night, and if i succeed, I am SO going to get myself a Burger King breakfast as a reward. :)


but i wish hunger isnt a problem for staying up through the night :(

the weary traveller

Is anyone out there? Please answer me.

I need you.

my information/knowledge bank is low, and i need to start depositing.

i know you are falling in love/have fallen in love with me.

but keep one eye open, because i am capable of throwing knives with a blindfold over my eyes.

and you were never my target.

lately i've been second guessing the hell out of myself, putting myself through the gamut. ive felt the lowest lows and self-doubt that shook me to the core. but...

it has never been in my nature to fight fate. i am not the type of girl who goes for what she wants, im the type who believes that if i dont get what i want, it wasnt meant to be. i believe in fate. i believe in bigger plans and a greater controlling power.

I have my own system. so sue me. i dont care. i dont care if im not strong. i dont care if im kidding or deluding myself. i dont care if i dont face up to facts. i dont wanna force myself to go after what i want anymore, to keep giving myself pep talks, to make this small plans that always fall through, to overanalyse everything. i just wanna stop being sad and insecure.

I thought I knew how it felt. I thought I had memorized the feeling of not being happy, of wanting more, of being ajar. I thought I had settled for this second skin; the acceptance that sometimes it just isn’t a choice. It is a luxury to be able to feel what you wish to feel, and more often than not, life cannot afford such ease.

The problem with being a dreamer, a writer, a poet, is not that they feel more than everyone else. It is that they cannot escape from it. All the pain, ache and explosions,- others can dismiss as merely a feeling that cannot be contained. But for us, there are endless words to describe the way we feel, to actualize the feeling, to give it existence, to gravitate them. The irresistible impulse to label everything, to get to the bottom of every unexplainable feeling is crippling. To live as a writer is non-apologetic. Everywhere that you try to escape to, is aesthetically numb. Even when you do not see what reminds you of it, words are running madness inside your head.

This is about existing within a world where love is not on my side. This is about struggling every day to stay afloat. This is about my greatest love story. I thought I knew how it felt. I had made a pact with myself that I have no other choice. But that doesn’t mean it makes it any easier to live with. Heartstrings are broken whenever I think to myself, we may be so right for each other, but there will never be a way to find out. So many things remind me of you that not a day goes by that I am able to be completely content. The problem with being a dreamer, is that I feel too much for my own good. When I think about us, I feel dismantled, familiar, damaged and every imaginable adjective in between. There is no other person as capable as you to destruct, love and forgive me. You may never understand it, but it is just a truth that I must live with.

The idea of being happy is extraordinary. Sometimes I dream of not feeling. Of just existing. Of not being physically able to hurt inside. I did not choose to be a person that feels too much, or someone that is compelled to write word after word after word. Every time I think I could be content, something thrusts me back into a higher feeling that I cannot control. I thought I knew how it felt, how everything is, how people are, but I cannot will my heart to think the same.