Scram.

I hate everything I have been doing to myself lately. I chose then chose not to; I hoped but hoped not to. What's wrong with me?? I haven't been "decisive" about everything that crossed my path. Is this, by any chance, the contradiction between a chance and a choice? I'm scared.

Okay, so what's up with my life? I guess, none YET. I have many things I am looking forward to and I hope my expectations won't dry out. Here are the updates:

(1) Toodleloo! We are going to Cebu tomorrow! Yatta~! But guess what: I am not excited! Good, ain't it? My original plan was boycott but I had to accompany them. The word "accompany" now seemed like going with a dog in the park! Creepy but true. O.o

(2) I am constantly praying for a high grade in Sociology & Anthropology course. Please, I beg of you, help me. No. Save me!

So I guess there are only two things. And it all comes down to this: why is it always up to number 2? Can't I update myself better? Can anybody help me with my grades? Can I at least achieve a third or so in my "updates" list? Can I write better questions?? Ok. I'm done with it.

Read the title. Scram. It's a word, duh.

Yatta~!

After a thousand tries, it has finally come down to this. Well, at least I am glad that I was able to open this, uhh, thing.

You see, I had been opening it since November and I was kind of hoping for some good comments. Unfortunately, the turn-out was zero; I have to declare first to my former classmates that I added a new post on my blog before they could even say to themselves that they remember. That is a bad thing: it only means that I am easy to be forgotten. Anyways, just an update, I will write again. Or so it seems.

For one, I am often ridiculed with many people. It is not because I think that I am being a paranoid, exclaiming with a satanic voice, "were you talking about me??" That would be the last thing I would do in a strange crowd. But, as my first statement goes, I really do no know hope to cope up with it. My sister said to me once that the difference between an animal and a human being is that we have schizophrenia; we have that distant voice in our heads that is telling us to always fight to reach the top and subjecting us to listen and conform with it. I guess that is not normal. If that is not normal, then maybe we are not just imperfect but really disarranged. You want proof? Go out with an insane woman then talk about being insane. Ooh, I do not make sense.

Second, just a speculation, I really am a loner. Boohoohoo. It is not that I seek for something special, it is that I expect more. I guess contentment is not in my system. I am always thirsty though drenched and always hungry though a cornucopia of delicacies is set before me. Is it greed? Avarice? Gluttony?? Of course not. IT is hunger. Feed me in an insaniquarium.

Hmm... I guess that's a wrap. There is nothing special, just private. And, as everybody does know, the net is not the place meant for secrets. Beware of the blackmail, says the ad. Hmm... I think this is a journal, not a diary, moreover psychotherapy. Haha.

Now, it is me.

It was so drastic--very drastic--that even others can see it. What a fool am I! All I can say is that, now, I am uncovered leaf after leaf. That is too embarrassing for me! Wah!

+The Lighter Side+

On the lighter side, I think I am, uhh... I can't think of anything good.

+Void: No Lighter Side+

I think the "shuffle" is hurriedly done. I mean, why the heck could there be an existing camaraderie of blockmates in just one section when there are others that are actually "shuffled"? No offense, but I don't like the whole idea. Why shuffle when we can't retain what that word really means?? Furthermore, if it is done "randomly", would it be a distilled chance that there would still be things that are unshuffled. Think about it.

Okay, so I am rude. I guess I am just mad.

Now, scram! Get lost. I am done.

Peace!

... I feared the worst... And it did happen.

Well, I wasn't able to write for so long is because I had been busy -- very busy with the matters of the heart. I know I must be open with you, I must. Or else, I might as well stick knives at everybody. For that, I am sorry -- I am sorry I forgot everything about my medicine.

For one thing, I theorize things and set them up. And here's the thing: I believe journal writing is psychotherapy. It is the only way we can divert our attention in crucial patterns of jovial massacre and a possible vendetta in our own backyard. If we could only let our killing pleasures --as how I "theorize" it would sound like-- suppressed, then this will be the best resort. This is, by far, the best damn thing ever (thinking about Avril).

Moving on, there are many things that happened with me these weeks. I will keep them summarized for you to analyze. Here it is:

(1) For a conclusion: I have been relieved. Finally. Finally the finals ended with a final blow. Ha ha. I am losing grip! Well, the final exams ended with a very cute credits. That's all I could say.

(2) Well, my heart will be gone forever. She will not come back. Come to think of it, she never really came. She was never by my side -- never.

(3) I am not really getting the hang of it. Maybe my fingers are too tired to be complying to my every moves. I am tired; the circles in my eyes are getting darker. And darker. Maybe someday those skins will be able to cover my eyes.

Me and My Head

Be imaginative.

Like a little boy I pondered about how the flower got its beauty and how the moon was able to lighten up the darkness in my heart. I wondered, dreamt and slept with all the mishaps and shattered promises written in my palm. And, as they slide slowly, being erased by the calloused being as with me, they are thrown away, as if we never met.

Have we met?

You are like that distant silhouette in the curtained blank mind of mine. You are unreal to me but in my mind was a distant shadow of our last meeting. We met, right? For we, in reality, met sometime below the blue moon. We.... Did we?

And alas, I wished. But, like any other fairy tale, my words got lost with its master, for no wish will come true without any will. I really thought you were mine.. But... Were you?

I am reminiscient. I remember.

It's funny how very predictable we were back then. The first thing we do in the morning is sob, cram, scram and run. With all that endless assignments, lengthy memorization materials and very frightening examinations, we always resort to one thing: cram.

Ahh yes, cramming is not abnormal in a student, especially in my kind of system nowadays. It is when you do something enjoying and relatively distracting thing before doing your assignment. for example, we always play RAKION (but we don't nowadays -__-") before getting home. When we get home, it is almost the same. We turn the PC on and log in in our yahoo! messenger account. It is like as if it is prerecorded and almost every day we do it. Funny? Yes... Very funny indeed.

But now it is so different--very different. You are given the chance to either do your assignment or not. You are free to get in the class or not. You are given with that much freedom that, all you have to do is pass the exam and it is all right. That is college life. You are on your own with nothing but faith and a little common sense.

Scary? Maybe. But it is all up to you.

God, I really miss the high school life. And it is all because of this certain fact: we were innocents back then. We always bear in mind that there will be something we get after we do something. We always put things for tomorrow for we think that we, with much persuasion, will no longer record the assignment and, to spice up the teacher's favor, entice her with much stories she can relate to.

We were innocents. We are reminiscient. We remember. We think. Therefore, we are.

I am symposium-ed!

Drumroll, please! (Tan-ta-na-nan!)

Yup, maybe he's right. I can't serve two masters at once. But, why the hell am I doing this instead of listening intently? Well, get ready.

The first time I saw the so-called "invitation," I was shocked. It doesn't look very inviting to me. Yes, very scary.

(Listening.)

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(Not Listening.)

He said that I must get to know the peak of my power, the time where I am most active and presumably smarter. But, what if I am a nocturnal smart-ass, that is, a night-active person? Do I have to catch up with my sleep or study now, pay later? Hmm...

(Listening.)
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(Not Listening.)

If you have a rascal inside the house who is, by the way, having this relative obsession in bugging your workplace, we have our guidelines to follow. First, you must clean whatever dirt there is. It is so that you can breathe fresh air. Go ahead and clean the whole house if you want to. The main point of this activity is that you will be comfortable nad convenient. After that, turn off every distraction there is--the TV, radio or your maid's ranting mouth, the latter to be done if deemed necessary. And, last one, tie that rascal on a wooden beam or something. Better yet, put him in a sack and throw him somewhere dark. After that, eternal bliss!

(Listening.)
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(Not Listening.)

Playing is a necessity. A necessity is needed by a person to live. Playing, for us, is counter strike fever. Therefore, Counter Strike is a necessity. Now that's logic.

(Listening.)
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(Not Listening.)

Now I am confused. Is it entirely bad to depend on others just because you want them to be with you? Excuse my selfishness, but I don't think it is sufficient enough to only need a person just because you want to take advantage over her abilities. It is not always like that. Maybe you need her entirely. Maybe, just maybe, you need her more than love.

(Listening.)
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(Save me from boredom!)