A Cruel World

"I don't want to mistake kindness for affection. It caused a few handful of heartaches in this world."

-Sacdalan, 2012

via tumblr

I've known this for as long as the author of that quote posted it. I've lived by it and it did me good. It was a binary kind of lifestyle. Just 1 and 0. Yes and No. Like and dislike. Good and bad. Black and white. No gray areas. No other midtones. None. When you start giving color to everything, it gets complicated.

And that is exactly what I did.

Falling in like with someone should have made me feel inspired. Should make the eight-hour drag of office work seem like a minute. I should have been very enthusiastic when waking up in the morning. There were many things I should have been but I wasn't. I wasn't supposed to feel this way. This teenage-like internal squealing when I see him. Or that unnecessary nervousness that seem to prelude an ominous event. Or that strange heart palpitations that did not come from caffeine. And perhaps, the worst was drinking coffee and finding something to blame that erratic rhythm. 

There was a time I sat beside him when I felt the tips of my fingers being dipped in liquefied ice even when the window was opened. It was the same time when exchanging unpleasantries became more of a habit than an occasional unwinder. But he was kind - often talks to me when I sit beside him. He lets me peek a snippet of his life once in a while and I thought it was endearing.

But not anymore when he mentioned his girl.

"Let us offer a moment of silence for our friendzoned brother." via tumblr

And just one of the many reasons why the world is cruel is that we often mistake kindness for love.

Some Theories Explaining Why We Usually Fall for those who were Taken Already (And its Side Effects)

I finally had the time to poke around this blog...again! I'm still counting my blessings and lost count of it actually. So, time for a new one! I recently found this question bugging me one cold morning in a steamy shower with myself. I thought about my conquests - sounds weird considering I'm a girl - throughout the years and I found out that most of those I fell in like with were actually taken men. There's guy named tooot who studies at tooot. Then this egoistic and airy guy here at the office with the name of tooooot who just can't shut up at how handsome he is. Well, some men are like that.

Via tumblr.

Yeah, yeah. I know. Life is hard. Life gives us lemons and I just can't help but ask, WHY?! What did I ever do wrong to receive such fate? However, for about 20 years of living in this shithole called world, I realized I might have theorized some pointers to finally answer that ego-killing, definitely grueling question. And some of its side effects. No, these are all based on my irrelevant opinion. First theory: If there is one thing I noticed in most couples,

1. People are bound to be more radiant when they find the love of their lives.

Via rebloggy

Yeah. It's all rainbows and unicorns and dogs and bitches all the time. Nope. Not even an ounce of bitterness here. I know you secretly want to be her,

2. But maybe not as *cough*display.

Via rebloggy

Next theory according to my brilliant mind,

3. We are secretly jealous of his 'catch.'

Via tumblr

We tend to be attracted to those claimed already, knowing that they are being valued by someone. But no, you just had to be jealous. Jealous of that girl who saw something in this seemingly good-for-nothing man. The worst case scenario here would be if the man in question is actually a very close friend of yours. And he wants you.and.her.to.be.FRIENDS. NO. 

No matter how nice she may be, or how angelic her face may seem, you just know you despise her deeply. I do believe what they say that a man makes other women be jealous of his girlfriend. And boy, seriously, you're doing it right. I'm so green with envy right now. And of course, you wanted to hold a grudge against him. You wanted to make him feel how stupid and far sighted he is to fail to see you. You wanted to

3. Bawl your eyes out. But you can't. You just can't.

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You have no right. It does not matter if you were always there for him.Throughout his drunken states, bearing his annoying drama regarding this girl he courts, and even becoming a martyr - standing tall and proud while you watch him being taken by another girl

4. - pretending you are very happy for him.

Via i.imgur

I totally get your make-face behind. I feel you. However, you still are entitled to some rights in choosing his girl. It doesn't have to be that two-faced cow.

4. And thus, this is your current state.

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Although, it's just inside your head. A place where he would never bother peeking through. And that is just...as melancholic as forgetting your umbrella on a rainy day with your Sunday dress. For the next theory, when he finally notices your change of states - from being the bundle of joy everytime you walk home together to being the saddest heap of junk - and prophetically say, 'there's something wrong with you',

5. You just wanna tell him

Via gifrific

Yeah, congratulations on solving the most complex puzzle ever. Kthnxbye. I wanna be alone. Finally, you just really want to be with him but at the same time, some other bitch woman wanted him, too. It's just a matter of choice for him and so...

6. She ruined everything.

Via tumblr

As in, completely. But you cannot do that, so the only choices for you are to

7. Do nothing and just be a biatch at everything in life - just not to those two or

Via wordpress

8. Cry every night and be a biatch at everything in life. The pain you're suffering is so big it did not fit the post frame.

Via dandycat.livejournal.com

But remember, don't get too caught up with him. There will always be someone for you at the right time and at the right place. Besides, there's your family there to love you.

Via thefw.com

 Besides, who said we need a man to make it happen?

Via tumblr

Okay, I do.

Via tumblr

A-musings of Trivialities Answered

A while back, I asked myself on how to be mature. 

Is it to develop proper manners? Is it to be able to act cool and collected? Is it to change your point of views in a broader sense?

These are some of the questions I posed on myself. They didn't actually made sense to me at all until such time I just decided that maturity is a resignation of some sort. Though naturally, others will call it acceptance, or coming to terms with responsibility. But I recently saw a photo shared on ShareCatholic's FB page which basically answers my questions.

Sometimes I Forget that I'm still a Kid

          Working at a company for an internship has its perks. I get to meet new people and hopefully find new friends. I find the environment even more refreshing than the constant drag and pull of time back in DLSU. What can I say? I've spent my entire life in those four walls of the room. Sometimes, there are five walls when I felt that the worker who was laying out the cement miscounted the corners he was happily making. And that's my problem. At least I am free to act like me. Who is me?

          Me who runs along the corridors and through all the maze made by those insensitive people who seemingly care about nothing but their sad sob story to be told - not minding they were actually very much blocking the runway, excuse my awesome self. Me who sings my lungs (and larynx) out with Through the Fire (Chaka Khan's version, puhlease) and other birit-worthy songs at the fire exit. Me who would emote to myself on a ledge while looking down the once-football-field-turned-to-Henry-Sy-grounds. Me who would talk to myself on my seat and don't give a shit about my changing expressions. My who would giddily drag my friends to Agno or EGI for lunch. Me who would animatedly talk about my day-to-day misfortunes and laugh at them like they never did affect me.

          And that's when I realized being in this world - the corporate world - is not easy. With my current self, I have to put up a front that would be expected by these people, and of course to not be overly weird. Sometimes I lose myself and my antics would come out. Man, I tell you hiding is hard. I'm not exactly the bearer of the Most Talented Two-Faced Douchebag trophy. And of course, faking is not exactly in my immediate vocabulary unless otherwise stated. This constricting mask makes it so that it's only a matter of time when I would finally snap and be used to this kind of lifestyle. I have to leave my mask and develop a different persona - fast. I mean, I only have around 36 units left before I graduate. I'll never be ready even if I have balikbayan box of excuses.

          Though I did notice that the people I'm working with are exactly the manifestations of the people I have met during my entire stay in the university. There are these people that clicks faster with me than the rest. Then there are these quiet people who tend to lose themselves more around themselves than the others. (What.) And of course, there are these mature people who feels like my parents. I love my environment. I love the people I work with. I love the things I do in the office (COUGHfacebooktwitterwriteblogyoutubeCOUGH). But I'm having a hard time catching up to their level of maturity. I find myself joking and I honestly don't know if 

(1) they get the joke,

(2) they are offended by the joke

(3) they don't know if it's a joke.

The last thing I would want is a civil war with myself (and those people). But then I realized, yes their ages are like two-digit numbers away from me and I really can't blame my birthday (or anything else for that matter). Rather, I should just man up (or woman up) and at least act like them. And this is why I so look forward to every thesis meeting we have. For a breather.

Anyway, I just wanted to let it off my chest.

I cannot get closer to you.

Not now, or ever.

In fear that my feelings will overflow and spill unto your person again. You see, there's this cup of unrequited love that can only be filled with so much bitterness and self-loathing. Every time I see you, the cup is filled with the liquid proportional to the pain it brings. After sometime, the cup is filled to the brim and the liquid overflows. That's the point of no return where I confessed my feelings to you.

It's not because I assumed that you like me, too, but because I could not contain the unrequited feelings that seem to increase. I had to let it out, lest I drown.

I am happy with the current us. I could not have asked for more. I would not ask for more. They say that to love someone does not mean to force a commitment. Sometimes I just have to be satisfied with whatever connection we have as long as it stays.

But.

This is the first time I felt emptiness whenever I am with the one I love.

Do not worry. I kept my word. How could I not? I cut off the roots. It was hard. It took a toll on me, physically and emotionally. But I was able to do it, because of you. Some little sacrifices I can do for you. To at least get my self even the tiniest redemption. I am just waiting for it to wilt. I am sure that when it wilts away, I will cry my last tears for this fiasco. I will be sad. Sad that my heart no longer cares differently for another. Oh, the things we do for love.

Thank you for telling me your feelings. Thank you for being honest. Most of all, thank you for still accepting me.

I might be weird, to refuse awkwardness between us when it is space that what we need the most. Space for you so that my feelings will not come into your mind. Space for me so that the buds that were long separated from their roots will not magically bloom on their own.

I guess, our friendship is just too precious. In the end, I love our friendship so much that I could not let it wilt with my feelings. It might be too selfish of me to do so, but I bared myself - all of it - to you.

I love you. I really do. I wanted to tell you again. I wanted to know if my heart will palpitate at your expression when you hear them once more. Sometimes I wish I do, so that I know I did not turn into a plant. Sometimes, I wish I do not, so that I will not carry the pain alone.

I guess I am on my road to recovery. Piecing back that part of my heart that took the damage. Maybe this is why I can talk about it, right here.

And maybe, just maybe, I have realized that no matter how I tried, I can never get closer to you. I take one step forward, you take a leap ahead. But do know I will never catch up to you. Even if I did, I will make sure I will only be ahead of you or behind you. 

Because being on equal pacing with you will make me release the tight reign I tied myself into.

And all of my efforts might go down the drain.

So, history will repeat itself. In another time, in another place.

This might cause even more damage to both of us.

And so, I cannot get closer to you.

A-Musings of Trivialities

And so I mused to myself while washing the dishes a while ago.



What is to be mature?


Is it to develop proper manners? Is it to be able to act cool and collected? Is it to change your point of views in a broader sense? Mature people have always appeared to me like that. They have a good sense of what is right and what is wrong. They work with grace under pressure. They are open to a variety of opinions and does not hesitate to consider them no matter how absurd. They are most efficient in their tasks.


Or maybe it is a resignation of some sort?


From what I had observed, I asked myself what made them mature. Maybe there is a common bond that ties all these characteristics of maturity. Maybe they may not call it resignation but rather acceptance. I'd like to call mine resignation.


I had to contemplate first if I should wash the dishes or not. I was assessing myself if I am too tired - I have a heavy cold, in fact - and to ask my mom to wash it instead. Then I saw her mountain of laundry and that idea was history. I thought about asking father to wash the dishes - Armageddon almost came at that brief moment - since he had arrived at home early and was doing nothing but using Virtual DJ - as far as my instincts tell me. But as I looked again at the dishes - contempt, forlorn and dejection - I sighed to myself and told me, 'Fine. Can't be helped.' And that's when I found myself thinking about maturity.


As I feel myself coming to terms with the responsibilities I carry, I am still wondering how in the heavens I have done chores [that goes without saying 'without complaining']. Maybe it's resignation, maybe it's something else.

A Farewell

I speak the truth and nothing but the truth.

I have so many thoughts in my mind since yesternight. They have been jumbling themselves, trying to dominate each other on which I would prioritize first. It was hard sorting them but I decided I would start with this: I could not keep the promise I made to myself, one term ago. After this program, as I told myself, I would allot a day of bitterness, self-pity, sadness and general unhappiness. I do not want to lie to myself, saying I am going to be all right; I am not bitter; I already accepted my fate. As a fellow human being, I am selfish, conceited, egoistic and many other negative adjectives Merriam Webster has. I have my own pride and to have anyone (including friends) trampling on it like trash would truly answer to me. And so the solution of releasing everything in one full day came up. Why just one? Why not a whole year? That's because I recognize my negative attitudes and I am doing my best to keep it from ruling over me. One day is more than enough, said my mind. 

I did cry last night. Out of sadness, out of happiness. I told myself 'if I did not cry, then when will I?'. Sadness because of the way things turned out to be but if I may say so myself, overall happiness because of the way things turned out to be. No matter how much my heart says, 'this cannot be happening, you're supposed to be one', I could not think of anything but the righteousness of the events. It's as if I felt even more at ease, if not truly relieved. And then my mind nagged at my heart, saying, 'when will you start the one day isolation?'. I stopped instantly, feeling my way inside; looking for the answers to the question my mind asked. I summoned the feelings I had since the start of the training and I found them gone. Waning, to be exact. I did not answer it right away and instead comforted and congratulated those people in that secluded pavillion. I cried for them, with them. Hugged them with all of my feelings in my sleeves. I showed them how much I truly loved them with my words and tears. I told them how deserving they are and how I will never ever leave them hanging. I was filled with their feelings and mine and it was an overwhelming experience. And so I cried. Unafraid, uninhibited. I wanted to show all of them my sadness and my happiness, so that they will know they mean so much to me.

But for some reasons, the tables turned. As I sat in my parents' car, driving back home, imagining the comfort of my love-pillow and sofa bed, a whirlwind of thoughts came rushing back to me. I left my tears and sadness in the tent and sadly, remnants of it still clung to my heart. I entertained them whilst looking outside the window with nothing but darkness in sight. It was a welcome change against the colorful scene brought upon by morning. I was able to get into trance easily. And so, that question came up again: when will you start your one day isolation? Honestly, I am still asking that question now. I am finding even an evidence of the bitterness I have conditioned myself one term ago. I tapped into my heart for debris of sorrow and grief and found none. I only felt a vague sense of ease and general tranquility within. Even my heart, so loud and wild yesternight is now only basking in serenity. My tearducts ran out of water and salt supply. No matter how much I thought of not being one of them, it stayed calm and even thankful. Then I came to a conclusion: My grief left as fast as it had arrived. And that is because, the 12 people I had worked with, the 12 people who will pioneer the organization are those people I have supported since the very start. And unknowingly, I have accepted them - loved them even - that I could not find myself resenting them, feeling bitter about them, saddening because of them. Though I am thankful for that, I feel bad about myself. Because I promised me that I would allot one day for bitterness, self-pity, sadness and general unhappiness. 

But now, I cannot even do that to save my life. I have invented the bitterness I am sure I would feel. And I could not contain the level of stupidity of my situation right now. I feel like laughing my lungs out while crying my eyes out. But then, I preferred to stay calm. Scold myself for another broken vow. And I am thinking of torturing myself with graphic horror movies I never dared to watch. As an afterthought, I ate my lunch while watching SAW I-VII. But behind all of these realizations, let this ultimatum be the end of the prospects 2k12 training program for me. I want to thank the new EB13, before and after the training, and for all of the times they will be there for us. I want you guys to know that I will be here for you, as a fellow Operations-Reseach and Development officer (from the best committee [Operations] forever, of course). I will help you with the skills I acquired from the training and will never let you down. I will be with you; serving under our organization, serving under and with you, becoming a pillar that will never fall. I will not waste my time and tears and our friendship because of my conceit and selfishness. I'll expect a rough road with you guys, and expect that I'll bump and bounce with you at each protruding rock on our path. I will sing with you our goals until my voice is no more than an inaudible groan. I will lend you all that I am so that there will NEVER EVER BE A NANOSECOND THAT YOU MAY THINK YOU ARE ALONE. I am so filled with positive vibes right now and with the last words in here, I am officially ending the prospects 2k12 training program.

EB12, I am so grateful with your decisions, considering it is hard for all of you. I share your hardships and pain and all those feelings I felt last night. Special mention to Kuya Robin for his last power hug. Totally made my night. EB13, so many words will never suffice to summarize my feelings for you so let this simple phrase give justice to it, at the very least: I love you.

Together we stand; Divided we fall. ONE FAMILY, ONE ECES.

Posts, posts, posts...

I saw my older posts in some of the blogs I have used.

And I was like...




;____; What did I just write?

Food for the Mind

It is not the critic who counts, nor the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows great enthusiasms, great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.

Theodore Roosevelt

COPIC MARKERS

Maybe I will do a more detailed review on copic markers in my next post but for now, I am so very much elated at my finished product. Fruits of hardcore resistance on "other" temptations (read: books, books and more books to read) enabled me to buy some hardcore-priced markers that are truly worth the money. And they are called Copic Markers.

I wish I have these many. Can someone give me a gift? Pretty please? With sugar and royal icing on top?

As of now, I only have 6 colors: E00, E02, E29, RV13, RV34 and 0 (The Legendary Colorless Blender - I am so lucky to have obtained it.). 

I got this starter set idea from Michelle Houghton (click her name to find out more about Copic Markers immediately!) and her article here. And recently, I've been experimenting with RV13 and RV34 but it seems to me I can't get them to blend with each other due to the huge gap in their numbers. So, today I bought the latest four (the E's and 0) and I tried it on a lineart I printed off a laser ink printer. I am quite afraid of using inkjet due to its ink issues with liquids. Or is it just water since Copic Markers are alcohol based?

Here's my very first try on E00 and E02:

It's not very good, is it? Because I wasn't using the right strokes to create that flawless look. And then I got bored and I decided to use the chisel tip to brighten my day and yet, it still turned out bad. I therefore learned a lesson: Never use Copic Markers when you're bored and generally pissed because you can't color it right.

So, again, I tried, after cooling down for a few minutes, in another printed lineart. This is Chi, by the way. From Chobits. I don't know from what anime did the first one hail from.

I saw that it was good but I was not satisfied. This picture made me feel so stupid in the "proper lighting" field. I wasn't very good with colors, in the first place, and I tend to prefer flat coloring than those with 3D effect to it using multiple colors. The face, I reckoned, wasn't properly colored because of the poor coloring and my general ignorance in terms of where the light source is. I just can't imagine. If you notice, the hair and her ear were colored differently. Before I started using Copics, I tried my coloring skills with cheaper markers. These are Lil' Hands 24ct washable markers. I wanted to have the 50ct Crayola for wider range of colors but I had to make do with the available ones. It costs like one copic marker. Actually, one copic marker is a little bit more expensive than these 24ct washable markers. How's that?

And so, after cooling down again, I watched a few videos on how to color (yes, there's a technique! remember, it's still a marker) with these awesome and pocket-burning markers and with Michelle's tutorial on blending, ta-da! My first Copic Marker art! I only have colored the skin since the E's I have are actually for skin tones. I used The Colorless Blender (capitalized due to pure awesomeness), E00 and E02). Actually, I am at loss on where to use E29 because I realized E29 is waaaay too faaar from E00. @_@ Sheer excitement is to be blamed. I think more likely on the hair but I won't touch that first until I bought some of its family members.

Here's the art I've colored after my rant. Sorry for keeping you.

I am so proud of this work. I have to use E00 over and over again to get the proper blending. And goodness, I know I still have lots to improve but I got motivated by this piece of art. I truly did not expect this outcome and I wish I could buy more colors to be able to color the whole lineart. I used RV34 on the pinks. Another one of my experiments. And there you have it. I have tons of people to thank and these are them:

Annel Ribay - My classmate who endorsed the Copic Marker stores for me. (There are so few of them here.)

MsKerrieJ or MissKerrieJ - A YouTube user who has many Copic Marker speedpainting art and who motivated me to use Copic Markers. (Yes, I was reluctant at first due to its price.)

MangaLessons - For her awesome tutorials.

Michelle Houghton - Who started it all. The idea of the starter set and some thorough general information on Copic Markers. By the way, I saw that Fully Booked in here sells Tria Letraset. I'll try it sometime. :)

Mother - Who gave me allowance every week and where I got my savings from.

God - Who led me to this awesome field of art.

A big THANK YOU to these people.

A Window Through Another Persona

     First of all, you may think "What happened?"

     Let me answer your query with a simple smile and a cup of coffee as an introduction.

     I am no more Itinalang Naiisip and Ciel in Wonderland, but more of Crucial Insignificance. For those who do not know me, you have a choice on hitting the back button of the browser and leave in peace, or stick a little longer and snoop around this post.

     To start off, a brand-new blog means brand-new inspirations, well at least for me. With new inspirations, I feel refreshed and energized as I take into account my writing hobby. When I write, I make sure I have a blank slate to write on, in that case, a new notebook. It gives a sense of uniqueness, fulfillment and authority. But let us not stray away from the main topic of this thread. I changed my blog due to the changes that have occurred within the past few months. I seldom change blogs unless there is a need to change, because I am usually too lazy to pick up new templates for my new blog. Ah, yes. The template. For those who have seen my blog prior to this new one, you may notice that what my blog looks and contains reflect my personality. The template was a notebook with vectors and spirals. The posts were a combination of blogs, random thoughts, teasers and the stories themselves. There was no harmony, peace. Everything was in chaos. The blogs were of random sentiments. Well, that was I rewinding for about ten months earlier. Now, as I climbed another rung of the ladder, new principles, manners, codes of ethics were stripped off and forced upon me that caused me to make some drastic change in my personality. Yes, readers. I've been talking about my new personality all the while, not my brand new blog.

     Do remember that even though I have an insufferable measure of vanity (and perhaps, narcissism), I cannot simply stoop so low as to brag and blog about my new blog. What do you care? But I am not implying that I am bragging and blogging about my new personality either.

     I could care less if you have a better one. I am merely informing you and answering the inevitable query.

     My new personality isn't much surprising. In fact, I did not know I have this persona until the moment I reached out to my inner world and saw that the gears of my brain have simply reversed it spin. So, what is with the gloomy personality out of the blue? Dear, first of all, it is not out of the blue. I am rational enough to feel and know that the changes happening to me builds up slowly and bursts out when it reached it apex. Secondly, it is not gloomy. Yes, the template and the aura of this latest post may imply a gloomy atmosphere, but look closer. Use a magnifying glass if it will help you unravel the truth. Crucial insignificance. What is crucial? What about insignificance? Ever wondered why these two words were never used together? Why all of a sudden, a speck of dust from the earth suddenly decided to bring them together? Does the phrase not ring a bell? Yes, you got it. Paradox. More commonly referred to as irony. So, what is the irony? Crucial means critical, imperative, of greatest importance. Together with insignificance which means trivial, they form an irony. Why irony? Ask this yourself: How can a thing of insignificance become crucial?

     For the past few months up to the present, I see myself as a sarcastic being. I have faked smiles and laughter at times without noticing. I have been dealing with an inner turmoil I cannot seem to get a grasp of what it really is. It is more like I am battling in the dark with an invisible enemy. How cool is that. I have lost the light I knew that was once in me. No one would know for sure, but myself and God, with the exception of hypersensitive beings around me. I don't know what happened to that light. Before I left my high school alma mater, she taught me to Walk as a Child of Light, guided by Jesus, the Divine Light. These are the very motto and name of the school. However, I seem to fail her. I feel like an empty shell drifting off a shore after enduring a rough ride with the stormy ocean. Frustration. Maybe that is a reason for this new persona. I am frustrated beyond my control that I did not even decipher the matter with me. Or maybe it is not just simply frustration on random things, rather political things.

     To cut the story, yes, I am frustrated because of political reasons. To add to that, I developed a whole new persona, thanks to them higher-ups. Nothing special, right? Some may say, "get over it, kid. You're not the only one. Most of us ignore them." I respect that response, but it will be pointless to counter it with an argument that goes like, "we cannot ignore them! Now is the time to take an action," for that will be attacked by, "how many times have we said "now?" An action for what? For stopping them who rule with money? Not a chance in a million," statement. If I continued with, "justice shall prevail," the heated conversation will end with a "with money, justice is forever blind and deaf." The end.

     This is what is going on in my little archipelago. It is frustrating to envision a future with a president who smirks and smiles even at the worst of events. He claimed he is not doing such things, but what can the citizens deduce from their own television screens? I am not saying this because I detest the current president, but simply because I do not trust his capabilities, even if he is technically legible to run the country. Yes, he is the ideal president, actually. No records of known graft and corruption during his senate years was one of the causes of his landslide during the election. How I would kill and die for a president like that. However, something is amiss. I cannot feel the president. Physically, yes, but considering the deeper meaning of that statement, you will know. I am not seeking for the president to show his smirking face every second in the television. He has a life and a huge role to play in this country. When I say, to feel someone, it is like to feel his spiritual presence even in his physical absence. The thing with the president, he is physically invisible to me, and spiritually invisible to me as well. Prove me wrong, counter my claims, I could not care. This is my opinion, and we live in a very democratic country.

     He has good platforms, especially the K-12 Basic Education Program. Although, I would like to suggest that he keep it in the attic for the moment, and focus on reviving the economy of the Philippines, now that Japan and several other countries are facing their own demons. Oil price have been increasing, and it really is a bother even if let us say, my parents have a decent job. Eating dinner while Chinese and Filipino suffered inside the memorable bus during the hostage-taking is unforgivable. Denying that he was not there makes it even worse. Did he meet my vision of an ideal leader? Yes, but not quite. The very first trial on his efficiency proved to be a major failure in the Philippine history.

     I am sick and tired of hearing the same news over and over again. I sometimes wish I could just live somewhere in space, out of the chaos and cruelty of the world. Of course, the president is not the only one to blame. There are others, too, but I do not have the time to list them all in here. All I know was that I am sarcastic and gloomy as of now. Hopefully as of now. I cannot believe this is actually happening. Many will disagree with my claims, views, opinions. But I know, somewhere around the planet, there is one or two who share my sentiments.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

     For story enthusiasts, please go to To Weave a Web of Stories to find my works of fiction. You are free to comment and criticize, but I am taking your right to flame. Thank you for coming this far. If you would be so kind, may I claim the cup and saucer to be prepared for the next reader?

Confessions of a Lady who was apparently Thrown with a Bucket Full of H2O Right in the FACE

I just feel like writing in English.

I finally dealt with my problems on poor study habit. As in, before, I never studied, just a quick (as in very quick) glance at the topics and poof! It became Koko Crunch! No, seriously, it became...lol...speechless. Ok, scratch that. ...glance at the topic and poof! I'm done reviewing. So, I really am surprised to still have line of 6 in quizzes, but I knew in my nature it was never enough. That I can't accept the fact I am having these grades while the others are rocketing.

It kinda hurt me since I am the competitive type. (sooo daming alam!)

Anyway, I wasn't all satisfied with my grades, and now I've decided to adapt Sheena's study habit. the one that goes like this: Sleep really early at night and then wake up very early as well in the morning. Around 3-4 am to study. And since I live in Cavite, I have to give allowance to all natural disasters of commuting. Sometimes, I overdo it, causing me to guess incorrectly and have myself at school at around 6 am already. But, it doesn't matter since I am an early bird.

WHAT? MARY ANNE HAS A STUDY HABIT?

Yep, guessed right. I really am motivated this term.

As in, SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICASEXPIALIDOCIOUS-ly (not sure of the spelling) motivated. Somehow, a certain person brought me back to life and to my senses, and I couldn't thank him enough. He was like the light of my life at the moment, but of course I haven't gotten to the thought of us becoming an item. It's way beyond my control and wishes for I am still in love with studying. And I have this weird fetish of pushing guys away from me when I sense they have ulterior motives. (sooo! as if naman!) But, that's me, and I can't change what is beyond my control.

I am so happy I met that person.

Perhaps, one of you may have known him for I told you, and one may have picked up if he's observant enough. Although, I am now telling you: what you think is what it really isn't. :) Confused? It's for me to know and for you to find out.

Anyway, enough of him.

Another motivation is the new notebook my brother made for a project. Then, he gave it to me. How sweet :> I do have to admit I was unable to use it everyday since it's too big to fit in my bag.

My bag is another motivation. The design of my bag is simply awesome that I literally bear-hugged my mother to death when she told me it's for me. :> Oh, also her gift to me, the key chain. Even though Romel Ramos has quite insulted the biggest of the crystal balls there, it still is the most ingenious creation to actually motivate a person.

Then, Patricia's gift to me - a mess kit of some sort. I don't really know what to call it but I call it mess kit since that's where I put my face powder, lip gloss and perfumes. It made me realize I could start being a very organized person. Thank you, dear.

Of course, I couldn't forget about Sheena's total influence in me. She's really a good influence so I don't really have to worry. She's the one who taught me to use clearbook for handling my papered documents easily. She's the one who inspired me to go commuting rather than a living in a condominium. She's the one who really makes my day aside from my other friends who also mends some parts of my days. I think the greatest lesson I learned from her is to believe in Him. I never visited the chapel since last two terms. I do sit it for a while but it is inconsistent. I tend to ride the jeepney towards Andrew already. I deem it a hassle. But now, I've changed and it felt really good to be in the chapel. It's like mending my broken connection with God. So, I am hoping this term I am helping myself while asking the help of God.

I've really changed a lot.

That is thanks to my circle of friends.

And I do hope I'll be able to continue it as I go with my life.

Thank you guys.

A Short Interlude for All the Updates

 *Canon in C Major Violin plays in background*

         Okay, here I am again, the author and co-author of the works posted in this simple blog. I do want to stress on the fact that just because I posted an interlude it means the current story is going to be on hiatus. No. I'd like to blog, that is all. Oh, just to make it clear, I'm doing the Chapter 4 at the moment. So, no worries. I am here for two things: 1) To give updates about the stories I ceased at the moment 2) To give my readers a piece of my mind again. No, I'm not pissed or anything, but, some food for thoughts.

          To start off, Love Tales Collection is a collection of short stories (maximum of 3 chapters) made of sudden inspiration from authors who wished to collaborate with me. I can also put my  own there, with different characters and all. So, basically, the collection is purely circling in the world of romance. It won't have a limit unless the author/s involved decides to close it after gathering enough stories.

          Secondly, Romantic Reincarnations Trilogy will have two more chapters in order to be declared finish. The second to the last chapter still needs polishing, and the last chapter needs a strong idea. Inception much? Nah. At the moment, I shall hold it to give way to the current story I am writing.

          Third, Pirated Love Story is finished. I plan not to put additional chapters.

          Fourth, I have an avid reader for Not Your Ordinary Fairy Tale, and the next time he stalks my blog, I want him to know I am eternally grateful that he liked a crappy story like that. The fact that he is waiting for the next chapters makes me guilty of doing the story halfheartedly. So, for the next chapters, I will really give my full attention.

          Lastly, Call of Duty is NOT the game itself. I don't play the game, my brothers do, and I don't really fancy those type of games. Although, I have to admit I was hooked on DoTA. Plus, I'd like to clarify that this is a work of fiction. Names, places, events presented in this novelette is purely from the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real people, places and events is purely coincidental. (Um, tapos um-extra si Alter Ego ko, ginawang mala-DIFFCAL 'yung disclaimer: This is a product of a fiction's limit as infinity. Names, places, events curved in this novelette is purely derived from the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real people, places and events are asymptotic to the truth and is limited as the fiction approaches the novelette. = MAJOR FAIL)

          And this is where my update stops. Time for a new sentiment.

*music stops*

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*Seasons of Love by RENT Artists plays*

          I came across a blog of someone who added me in Facebook. Yeah, I remember her. She got two blogs, one for stories and one for random journal entries. I couldn't access the stories part so I left it and went to her other blog. The first thing that greeted me was that big Jho! on top of the page. Didn't seem surprise at that since it is a stereotypical design. I browsed through her blog and I noticed something. It was full of life, metaphorically speaking. The colors, the simple design itself and the things that were posted there. I found out she was just any normal teen who has nothing but her blog to listen to her cries and sentiments in he absence of a friend. For friends aren't always there when you think you need them. They also have their lives to worry about. 

          Back on topic, I read a snippet of the most recent post she had. It was something about being on the honor roll, and trying to keep it constant. Then, at the middle part of the body, there was something about not being on the honor roll, at least no fail. Then, I realized the real beauty of the blog. I stand my ground on the statement that the true beauty of the blog lies not solely on the decorations and designs of the template used, but the content of the blog and how one digs up his imagination to make a monotonous entry full of life. I think I gained an insight as to how to decorate my posts - not necessarily the stories since I am a bitch when it comes to uniformity. That said, I'll try to dig my imagination, too, to decorate my posts.

          That concludes the short musical interlude.

*music stops*

Thick Blue PLDT Books (Frustrations of a Stressed College Student)

It was such a long, long week. First term was like a breeze passing through. You could not really say it was long, rather, too short for a semester. But that is what makes La Salle a different school from the others. The lessons were very quick in terms of being discussed. It was like three topics were discussed in one sitting. You could not really understand the lesson unless you review it at home, which I failed to do. As a result, I had a hard time with Engineering Trigonometry.

...

I am an over-stressed Engineering student, and I feel like posting a blog or two about my course. This is the only way to release all my frustrations, perhaps. Better yet type it down while harassing the keyboard. It will forgive me, somehow. This is one of the times I would be forever thankful to air-conditioned computer shops, understanding keyboards and my expensive best friend: Starbucks(R) Coffee Caramel Frappé... whatever it is called!

So...

I've seen these thick blue books in the glass bookshelf of ours at home for like 16 years already. For 15 years, the books remained a mystery to me. But I do peek in once in a while when pops was not looking and it read PLDT manuals and other things. I wanted to ask my dad but I learned from him that everything is not taught, so I literally racked my brains about its purpose... But sadly, I did not find out. I left it as it is, believing that the future will bring answer.

During my childhood days, I really wanted to be an astronaut. I'm like crazy for any news and discoveries about the outer space. Not to brag about it, but I excel in Science. My mom was my relatively Science teacher, although her forte is accounting. Fed up by my frequent queries, she bought me a Microsoft(R) Encarta(R) 2007 DVD and had it installed in my computer. I was truly fascinated by that awesome DVD for it contained the answers to my queries. My dream of being an astronaut continued on.

But I discovered a hidden talent of mine: Arts. And my dream of being an astronaut became mere fleeting fragments of my memory. I decided to become a creative writer someday.

However, my perspective in life greatly changed when I stepped into the ladders of Grade Six. I became more practical, for I learned that I have to go to abroad in order to study a course related to being an astronaut. (Heck, I am still having a hard time spelling the cursed word! XD) And my mother told me Editors don't earn much. Then, I found out that Computer Engineering is a good course. I asked my dad about it and he approved of it. So, all of my high school life I've dreamed of being a computer engineer. I even had the same preference as my high school crush! It was like heaven.

But, when I was applying for UP and De La Salle, my father saw a course called ECE. Then he exclaimed, "Ate, ito na lang kunin mo. Matutulungan kita diyan!" And I was like "Huh? Ok..." But my preference was still Comp Eng. I was convinced when I talked to a grade school crush that I should choose ECE over Comp Eng. So, the moment was like "kilig to the bones" and I was persuaded slightly. Then, my uncle and I had a talk over college matters. He asked me what course I chose. Then I said ECE. Then he exclaimed "Bongga ka, ate! Malaki ang sweldo at in-demand kaya yan sa states!" And I was like "whoa?! Wowowee!" And that truly persuaded me to pursue ECE.

The entrance exam was hard. First off, I did not review. I just browsed my textbooks and I even had fever on the day of the exam. I am with my classmate and we were like neophytes in the big campus. I was pressured by my seatmate. Being a competitive person that I am, I somehow managed to get myself competing silently. I made sure to finish before her. But then I realized, take your time, fool.

So, I finished the exam with a huge doubt. I was like shivering every night and not being able to sleep well. I was very anxious to the point that I check the website every three days. Then the day of the results came. I called my classmate and asked her of her status. Sadly, she did not qualify. I hurriedly searched for my test permit which was located somewhere in my room. With the Divine Mercy, I was able to find it and tell my classmate of my ID. Then, she exclaimed, "Sabi na nga ba Anne, e! Pasado ka! First choice, ECE!" OMG! I was like crying and laughing and crying again. And laughing, too. It was like my cold suddenly faded. Then, I ran to my parent's room, almost tripping over and I told them to go to the website. Then, I plugged the test permit and they were like, "WOW!!!" x10. That's the second time my mom hugged me to death and my father acknowledged that I did have the brains despite my poor study habits. They were at tears for they know that the exam was hard and De La Salle is a prestigious school. They even joked about the tuition fee and I joked of shifting to Liberal Arts.

After that, loads of PLDT manuals was given to my by pops. I was like, whoa. Halt! It will be just basics this year. Then he reasoned out, "kung sinisimulan mo na yan, e 'di advanced ka na!" I sighed and started browsing through the thick books.

One thing I did realize...

These were the same books that remained a mystery to me!

I was like gaping at the books before me. Never had I foreseen the day I will be the one who will hold these books in my hands, let alone know of their purpose. My father told me that these were the manuals he used when he was in Infanta PLDT. They were each given a copy and they were to study these in order to respond to the problems of their customers. Father's work was just to sit around, play pc games and respond to the boss if he's calling. Well, that's interesting. 8D

So, I'm reaally, reaally thankful that I got guts to actually take engineering, with the fact that I don't like Math and I SUCK at Math. But that will never stop me from achieving my dream of being an engineer. One last thing that URGED me to continue: ECE is my father's dream course and I am to fulfill it for him. I failed him lots of times before, but I will not this time. It's my chance to prove him I can be someone. So, do our best and God will do the rest!

-Ciel