Its when you're on the brink of saying what you actually feel about someone yet you feel reluctant because the thought of rejection terribly unnerves you that proves to be the roughest part of the process. Imagine having all the chocolate in the world laid down on this beautiful piece of furniture before you and all you had to do was just stretch out your hands to get one then this strange feeling of dread creeps up on you because it might not be real after all. But its what you feel that just terrifies you. You have no idea what the fuck it is but it is there and you don't know how to rid of it, and satisfaction is so very near but you feel that you can't have it cause these stupid inexplicable feelings interfere and thwart you. And when you begin to be incoherent in everything you do, thats where it all goes downhill. Just spiral out of control down to the bottom... whatever it is. Fuck. I am soooo freaking bemused right now at how easily affected I am the more I try to be impassive and incredulous about what the fuck the big fuss is about it that people have to write poems, compose songs, change themselves, offer their whooole freaking lives for it. I can't even believe I am writing something about it in this state right now. I would probably laugh my ass off later, after I read this again... and this is crap prose. Yes! Thanks to you... you put me in this emotional dilemma mate, but you probably aren't gonna read this so it wouldn't matter if I let this all out here.
Perhaps I've created this flawless quixotic picture of how it all should play out when it comes knocking on my door that when it actually came I got scared silly it may not be exactly how I expected or wanted it to be, or I just want to still keep that picture unsullied. They said it would be wonderful and expounded on the embroidered romanticism that goes together with it, but nobody warned anybody that it would be freaking scary because once the possibility of something worthwhile to happen is established then comes with it the possibility that it might also end up in shattered pieces when something slight goes amiss. Because as how I saw it, everything that was initially a source of frisson and fascination soon tend to grow tedious and tiresome come some time, but with the exception if its the right person or uhm... thing. And if that day ever comes that you've gotten bored with it, it'll be just like everything else... it'll be sooner or later chucked. I don't mean to be such a pessimist, I'm just a bit bitter right now. I suppose sometimes, dreams are just better left unfulfilled... so that you'd have reason to continue believing in something beautiful. Cause sometimes when its realized, you'd have to find another thing to think of when you pursue something... and when you can't find anything, life for you would start to be wearisome. Ah! I dont know what I am talking about, maybe its just the stress. Or this stuffy nose. Or because of someone. Ugh.
It's a bad ideal to go with though. Life is in your hands, and you should not be afraid to gamble sometimes. There is nothing out there but oppurtunities, most of it would show up subtly that you wouldn't even easily recognize it but you have to have a good eye. Bottom line, its all in there its up to you to be creative and make something good out of it. As what I said... its the experience that counts at the end, so make the most out of everything. Put your feelings on the line if you'd have to or whatever rocks your boat... live (and love), man! Just hope that you are a lucky bastard and everything you do would lead you to the fulfillment of your hopes and dreams and everything will fall right into place.
- - - -
Im acting weird right now.
It's cause of the song, isn't it?
Shite... this is odd.
Crazy is what crazy dooo...
--oOo--
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Sigh
Have you ever noticed that after each time you get a good fright you realize a lot of things?
Last week I have had a frightening experience. Frightening for me, and probably for a few people too who are hypochondriacs in some sort of way. I mean, I got really scared out of my wits and I still am very much upset. It was probably the ultimate scare I encountered to this day. Okay, so this is what really happened. I was on my way to school. I had to ride a tricycle to get to that overpass I had to cross to get to the other side of the road where I’ll hail an fx, jeepney or a bus… whichever come first, then I’ll be on my way to school. So, while I was walking through it I saw this person. I could have overlooked her like everybody had if I hadn’t been watchful that time. I suppose it was an ordinary and normal event for them because the people seemingly didn’t give the slightest hint of demur. They just scooted right past her, not taking a glance or a squint at her direction. I, on the other hand, upon seeing her and the condition she was in became all the more alert and dead scared. The woman was bleeding all over; she had no hair and fingers, and was evidently slowly decaying while she still lived. Leprosy was what came to my mind first. My heart began to race and there was a sudden rush of energy on my feet like it was preparing to take flight before I could faint. I almost did. I must have looked like a nut when I walked past with that panic-stricken, ashen face in that tensed strut. When I got off the overpass and was at the bus stop, I couldn’t help but look back up there to check whether she decided to follow me, and gladly she did not. The odd thing was, there was this guy… I think he was in his twenties; he appeared to have tried to help her out, gave her some money, and led her off the overpass to a safer place. He even touched her on the head, (she had been wearing a bandana) and it just completely bowled me over how he willingly laid a hand on her. Usually people are reluctant to do that, afraid of contracting the bacteria; I know I would. But after seeing what the guy did, I just felt bad. I know I shouldn’t probably be thinking like this, I should try and understand the person before I get all denouncing cause of their health problems. Especially cause I am training to be a good nurse. What kind of nurse will I be then; if at the first sign of difficulty I’d already turn tails and flee? Now I know leprosy isn’t that contagious, that we all have a natural defense mechanism against the bacteria, and its definitely curable if detected early… it could only be transmitted through prolonged contact and bodily discharges, especially the ones coming from the nose. I did a report on that. But when you actually meet one, a real person who has it… it’s a whole different thing. The reaction is most intense when it’s your first time to see one up close. It’s like watching your favorite star on tv, and bumping into them in real life then you get star struck; probably not the best example. *lol*
I feel bad… for not feeling sorry for them. It’s not like they asked to be like that. They aren’t to be blamed for their situation. They are just unfortunate people who direly need to feel that they belong to the society, or to something. People shouldn’t act like they are abominations or something because it emotionally injures them; and that doesn’t feel nice, not at all. “I” shouldn’t do that. Mmmff… why do I gotta feel so guilty?
I mean, there are mean people fanned out globally just doing cruel things to people without having to feel rueful for their actions. Come to think of it… is it not funny, how people say that when you do good things… it would be reciprocated by good things happening to you. But I don’t think that is true all the time. I’ve been nice to people, more than nice in fact… sometimes even servile, and pathetic. Bad things still happen to me. Lets look at it this way, a bad person does evil things… and bad things would still happen to him, and then there is the good guy… bad things would also still happen to him despite his being a nice person. Things transpire whether you’re in it or not. It’s all mixed up.
Yeah, I know this is another one of those crappy posts. But I’m just too upset to write something decent.
--oOo--
Last week I have had a frightening experience. Frightening for me, and probably for a few people too who are hypochondriacs in some sort of way. I mean, I got really scared out of my wits and I still am very much upset. It was probably the ultimate scare I encountered to this day. Okay, so this is what really happened. I was on my way to school. I had to ride a tricycle to get to that overpass I had to cross to get to the other side of the road where I’ll hail an fx, jeepney or a bus… whichever come first, then I’ll be on my way to school. So, while I was walking through it I saw this person. I could have overlooked her like everybody had if I hadn’t been watchful that time. I suppose it was an ordinary and normal event for them because the people seemingly didn’t give the slightest hint of demur. They just scooted right past her, not taking a glance or a squint at her direction. I, on the other hand, upon seeing her and the condition she was in became all the more alert and dead scared. The woman was bleeding all over; she had no hair and fingers, and was evidently slowly decaying while she still lived. Leprosy was what came to my mind first. My heart began to race and there was a sudden rush of energy on my feet like it was preparing to take flight before I could faint. I almost did. I must have looked like a nut when I walked past with that panic-stricken, ashen face in that tensed strut. When I got off the overpass and was at the bus stop, I couldn’t help but look back up there to check whether she decided to follow me, and gladly she did not. The odd thing was, there was this guy… I think he was in his twenties; he appeared to have tried to help her out, gave her some money, and led her off the overpass to a safer place. He even touched her on the head, (she had been wearing a bandana) and it just completely bowled me over how he willingly laid a hand on her. Usually people are reluctant to do that, afraid of contracting the bacteria; I know I would. But after seeing what the guy did, I just felt bad. I know I shouldn’t probably be thinking like this, I should try and understand the person before I get all denouncing cause of their health problems. Especially cause I am training to be a good nurse. What kind of nurse will I be then; if at the first sign of difficulty I’d already turn tails and flee? Now I know leprosy isn’t that contagious, that we all have a natural defense mechanism against the bacteria, and its definitely curable if detected early… it could only be transmitted through prolonged contact and bodily discharges, especially the ones coming from the nose. I did a report on that. But when you actually meet one, a real person who has it… it’s a whole different thing. The reaction is most intense when it’s your first time to see one up close. It’s like watching your favorite star on tv, and bumping into them in real life then you get star struck; probably not the best example. *lol*
I feel bad… for not feeling sorry for them. It’s not like they asked to be like that. They aren’t to be blamed for their situation. They are just unfortunate people who direly need to feel that they belong to the society, or to something. People shouldn’t act like they are abominations or something because it emotionally injures them; and that doesn’t feel nice, not at all. “I” shouldn’t do that. Mmmff… why do I gotta feel so guilty?
I mean, there are mean people fanned out globally just doing cruel things to people without having to feel rueful for their actions. Come to think of it… is it not funny, how people say that when you do good things… it would be reciprocated by good things happening to you. But I don’t think that is true all the time. I’ve been nice to people, more than nice in fact… sometimes even servile, and pathetic. Bad things still happen to me. Lets look at it this way, a bad person does evil things… and bad things would still happen to him, and then there is the good guy… bad things would also still happen to him despite his being a nice person. Things transpire whether you’re in it or not. It’s all mixed up.
Yeah, I know this is another one of those crappy posts. But I’m just too upset to write something decent.
--oOo--
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Did you notice that most of my sentences here start with the word “I”?
I really don’t like pink…
Hate having to eat breakfast because it makes me fell bloated the rest of the day.
I don’t like the smell of breath in the morning…
Specially hate having to wake by the sound of loud knocking on the door.
I would probably hate you if you said John Mayer couldn’t sing and his lyrics sucked.
I don’t like people snooping around in my room…
You’d piss me off by telling me my drawings are ugly.
I like to go out at nights and just see the surrounding, watch the people on the streets.
I don’t like street food because they are dirty and I might get hepatitis B or some other letter.
I’d poke your eye if I caught you staring at me, it’s rude.
I can be very superstitious…
My favorite comedian is Kevjumba… I think he’s hot too.
I can be so spontaneous at times; I’d do the zaniest things. Like ask a total stranger if he would agree to allow me to watch him poop or something… or something milder like wink at everybody. Just to see their reactions. J
I like reading…
I’m annoyed.
I couldn’t think of anything else good to write about, so this is the result of that.
`Because I am selfish… and so self-involved, I am human… I have the right to be.’
Did you know that people are naturally selfish?
So, if you asked anyone for help they’d probably think of what good it will do to them first than to you.
- - - -
There have been a lot of bad comments on how I write. Because it is too ambiguous that it tends to come out pointless at times and it loses the message. I used to think that using big words and verbiage was a great way to express myself through the written form, but I was clearly mistaken or at least I think I was now. These past few days have been just a pain for me, not just because I had to deal with having people relentlessly interrogate me about my background and having to put out a credible yet interesting account on my experiences, I also have to deal with those professors who when intimidated tend to take they’re anger at you out on your grades. Browbeating them with big words doesn’t seem to work that well. I had my professor in Speech Lab and Communication leave nasty remarks about the way I talked on the one fourth sheet of paper my group submitted for our presentation, she pointed out how some words are just indecipherable because of my accent. My friends marveled and scoffed at the idea since they thought I spoke even more intelligibly and competently than her. Append to that, my sudden strange penchant to reading books. So, I came down with an eye-opening revelation. I want to try a different technique in writing, but that does not mean that I’d abandon my old one. It’s just that I want to try new things and see if it works for me.
--oOo--
I really don’t like pink…
Hate having to eat breakfast because it makes me fell bloated the rest of the day.
I don’t like the smell of breath in the morning…
Specially hate having to wake by the sound of loud knocking on the door.
I would probably hate you if you said John Mayer couldn’t sing and his lyrics sucked.
I don’t like people snooping around in my room…
You’d piss me off by telling me my drawings are ugly.
I like to go out at nights and just see the surrounding, watch the people on the streets.
I don’t like street food because they are dirty and I might get hepatitis B or some other letter.
I’d poke your eye if I caught you staring at me, it’s rude.
I can be very superstitious…
My favorite comedian is Kevjumba… I think he’s hot too.
I can be so spontaneous at times; I’d do the zaniest things. Like ask a total stranger if he would agree to allow me to watch him poop or something… or something milder like wink at everybody. Just to see their reactions. J
I like reading…
I’m annoyed.
I couldn’t think of anything else good to write about, so this is the result of that.
`Because I am selfish… and so self-involved, I am human… I have the right to be.’
Did you know that people are naturally selfish?
So, if you asked anyone for help they’d probably think of what good it will do to them first than to you.
- - - -
There have been a lot of bad comments on how I write. Because it is too ambiguous that it tends to come out pointless at times and it loses the message. I used to think that using big words and verbiage was a great way to express myself through the written form, but I was clearly mistaken or at least I think I was now. These past few days have been just a pain for me, not just because I had to deal with having people relentlessly interrogate me about my background and having to put out a credible yet interesting account on my experiences, I also have to deal with those professors who when intimidated tend to take they’re anger at you out on your grades. Browbeating them with big words doesn’t seem to work that well. I had my professor in Speech Lab and Communication leave nasty remarks about the way I talked on the one fourth sheet of paper my group submitted for our presentation, she pointed out how some words are just indecipherable because of my accent. My friends marveled and scoffed at the idea since they thought I spoke even more intelligibly and competently than her. Append to that, my sudden strange penchant to reading books. So, I came down with an eye-opening revelation. I want to try a different technique in writing, but that does not mean that I’d abandon my old one. It’s just that I want to try new things and see if it works for me.
--oOo--
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