This is me.

Empty Vessel.

Thu, 20 Nov 2008 05:50:03 GMT

A lot of things have happened which I suppose I should talk about. Subconsciously I write lj entries in my head throughout the day. I guess I just get too lazy to actually type. Or.. I feel guilty because there are other things I should be doing. Like SAT and schoolwork and more school work and papers and fucking more papers. And you know what?

I haven't felt anything.

Do you know how scary that is? I can't express because I don't feel emotion. I feel as if I can't sing anymore, now that I'm realizing it. I haven't really sung anything in ages. As much as I surprsingly enjoy it, I do want to write more about chemiosmosis and cell membranes. I want the time to do so without worrying about AP Euro and other things.

No, scratch that. I can't even complain about the workload. Again, all my other classes besides AP Bio are a fucking joke, but I still got 100s for the marking period in Murphy's, Camp's, and Rackow's. It's hilarious and ironic to get such a grade in classes I don't care... but it's so empty. I'm doing all this work but it feels like... carrying Q-tips. It's the weirdest example, but the first thing that came to mind. See how pointless it is? Carrying pocketfuls and handfuls of Q-tips to the moon and back. Absolutely weightless. Absolutely meaningless. Yet, the job still gets done because it's too easy.

I miss my friends. I miss my class last year. I miss my family. I miss NYLF. I count my genuine laugh out loud laughter to about twice a week now. And oh, how it saddens me. Junior year has all the students jumble-mumbled. And as much as I was excited about it at first, how disappointing it was to find that I was mixed in with a lot of annoying people. That kind of thing kills a person, slowly. My smiles in the morning are a weight I have to lift, literally. I feel horrible when I can't engage in a good conversation with someone who walks up to me anymore. I look back and I can't help but wonder...

Where did she go? My old self. The one who was always so happy and bubbly and had a lot of friends. Who sang and danced and was amazing and had a story to tell. It's one of the few times I regard my past and present selves as individuals. But it really feels like it.

Junior year has a long ass resume. But why do I feel so empty? Maybe I would cry... if I had the emotion to.

I am 1 tsb. of peanut butter spread across the table.

Where have I been?

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 22:25:17 GMT

I have no idea.

It's a good thing though, I think. You can tell my periods of relative sanity with the large gaping holes of missing journal entries on Live Journal. You know... when I don't really have much to emote--or time to, at least.

Oh, Lord she's writing again.

Thing's have been going alright, I guess. I'm not stressed as hell, nor am I particularly challenged. Going to school is like eating without taste buds or smell. That's what Junior year is basically: a bland necessity. I'll have to admit Sophomore year was a dramatic son-of-a-bitch but at least it had a story. Even if it was pretty childish and naive. I get ashamed sometimes. But then that's stupid. A person can't keep regretting what she did in the past. You can't be indignant with your youth, you fucking hypocrite.

It just sucks cause I really thought I knew everything. Slap, slap, slap to the face.

But I've had someone to talk to. A really good friend from high places, I like to say. It's such an amazing feeling to meet a kindred spirit. And he's influencing me to start getting ready for college and shit. Well, he's talking about it and my natural competitive nature feels compelled to do something too. God, college. I don't know why it's harder for me to get into preparing and researching. Maybe because I don't fucking know about my future. I swear, I worked harder in elementary school to get into high school.

Honestly, my reasons for coming back to Live Journal aren't entirely sincere. Figured it might help me, you know? All my classes besides AP Bio are a joke man. One big HAHA. Precalc with Rackow, BritLit with Murphy, and Chem with Camp (DEAR LORD BIND THAT WOMAN'S MOUTH). The teachers are alright, but coming from a year with Gutmann, Dr. Nina, Jefferson, Ameruoso... I was really thinking. And now, I'm not. But I can't complain... At least I don't have AP Calc.

Main point is that I'm not writing anymore. And I figure that's something a person has to develop when they're gonna be writing college applications pretty soon . And I actually want to make a name for myself by going to one of those elite, Ivy league schools. There's a lot of people I have to make proud (myself included) and a lot of people I want to indirectly slap in the face. "Yes, daddy, I did this without your help." "Yes, maybe I'm not that pretty or tall or rich, but I'm a hell of a lot smarter than you."

And maybe by writing again I'll find who the hell I am. Yes, it's a common theme from my previous posts. Unfortunately, I still don't know. But I'm pretty content with working right now. My libido's under control. I've lost the weight I wanted, but I still want to lose more. The scale refuses to budge, but even then I'm alright. I'm not a stressed as I thought I'd be.

Since I started that Philosophy leap with Gutmann my mind's been boggled. I'm in love with Gutmann, honestly. And Plato makes me feel sad about the human race. Shameful of this generation. However, I do have to give credit for its open-mindedness. OBAMA-RAMA!) My brain hurts.

Why do I have to season my self up for institutions and careers? Why for other people? Why can't I just transcend time and matter and the heavenly bodies and soak myself in these ideas, ideas, ideas? Which one, in the end, matters then? This reality--where the ignorant work and make money and ultimately survive-- or truth, where people can contemplate and know and in the end come home to an empty plate.

I don't fucking know. I wanna get drunk and make out.

Off to SAT prep!

Chomp chomp chomp.

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 05:07:05 GMT

I got my braces off today. I look like a rabbit named Chomper. I'm not prettier. I hate my retainer.

Didn't tell anyone, they'll dinf out soon enough. In any case, I hope my mouth can adjust quickly. Ack, so I'll still have to have something in there. Guess I'll always look like a monkey from the side view. But I am glad they're off. It feels weird, though. What a downer. My mouth is still restricted from what it wants. Damn, this painful retainer. I'm sorry. Muah.

June 29 was the Filipo Idol competion inn Exchange Place--or rather, was supposed to be. This rush of wind and rain and thunder totalled the whole Filipino Festival. I thought it was hilarious. Some guy was still on stage singing "This Is The Moment" while the rain started to pour. Tents overturned, chairs toppled over, $4000 worth of equipment soaked, short little brown people running with barbeque to the sides for shelter... and this pour guy singing on a stage with no roof and no audience. He got down and kept singing from under and umbrella. What a hilarious sight. Ah, it was truly amazing. What it must be like to perform in the rain, huh? I loved the irony of my song, too: "Don't Rain On My Parade." LOL. I don't know why it had to rain just then, right when I get the opportunity to perform. I think God was punishing me for something. Yea, probably. And the guy in charge of it all seemed really pompous. But I can't judge. Not everyone I wanted was there, so that's alright. Jeez, I'll never have enough time if it gets postponed.

Anyway, I've been cooking a lot lately. Healthy stuff, you know? Trying to get my mom to eat healthier, but Tita Dolly isn't open to anything. Grr, hate narrow-minded people. I cooked an amazing dinner of soba noodles, sauteed vegetables, and honey-ginger chicken... and she fills up half of the table with leftovers. Also, been working out every day. I've lost 4 pounds I think... since the first weeks of June. 93 is the lowest I've seen in a long time. I don't know what I want. Maybe I wanna be skinny and see my shoulders and collar bone and back bones. Would I be happier then? More confident with the way I look then? I don't know. But I'll do it for the change. The majority of my life I've been overweight and unsightly... I can change that. Make myself beautiful because I see myself as that. I like that.

I leave for San Francisco in 2 days. It still hasn't sunken in yet. That I'll be traveling by myself. That I'll be in a totally different place the other side of the country, learning things. That I'll be seeing my father, his family, his home for the very first time. That my mom won't be there. Wow. I'm not even ready yet. I still have that Current Events class I'm taking online. I can only hope I get internet access in SA. If I don't, HA I'm screwed as fuck. Also trying to study the SAT prep book. Hoa told me he got a 2300. Why the hell did that kid take the SAT already?

Crap. I'm gonna fail. And cry.

Tomorrow I planned a picnic with fellow random sophomores who could make it. Hoboken Park, to see the fireworks. I missed them last year. I wanna cook "Aloha Chicken" and Zuchinni Bread. And now I hear it might rain? Mouu.. Lord, please help. Sige na please? :\

Junior

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 02:16:47 GMT

So that's it, huh. It hasn't really sunken in yet I guess. School kept on going even till now, it seemed like it'd never end. And then it did. Seniors weren't seniors anymore. And sophomores... became juniors. Ew. Well, I have the break to get myself together. I'm transforming myself. This summer is going to change me and make me beautiful. When I come back people are gonna go "Damn, where'd she come from?" And for once I'm not idle-- I'm actually travelling and doing something this summer. San Francisco in a week, then Utah, Philippines, and Japan. I'm gonna have to get used to freedom I guess.

Wait, what freedom? (SAT prep, online current events class, AP bio, japanese, summer reading)

Oh Filipino Idol is so soon. I got my red shoes to sing in. I'm getting nervous and self-conscious. Dammit, how long can I keep this happy up before I realize I suck again? I suck.

Zen Dog

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 04:00:44 GMT

Oh dear, oh my. It seems to me that I've gotten myself addicted to yet another K-Drama: My Girl. Yes, yes I know. I'm awfully late. They have a filipino version out in the Philippines. I mean, I don't want to bash but... yea, it pretty much fails in comparison to the original. My mom says she likes the flip version, but she knows she's lying to herself haha.

SEOUL GONG CHAN LET ME HAVE YOUR BABIES!

Ok. Anyway, on Saturday I finally got together with Francine to celebrate her birthday... which was on May 9. But hey, better late than never right? We went to Garden State Plaza only to shop at one store until closing time. Oh my God, the Forever 21 there is GODLY. Newport Mall fails a lot. Ah, so sick of that mall.

Francine and I stayed there and shopped, shopped, shopped till literally we dropped from all the clothes we were carrying. Perfect bonding time with best friend, no? I made a pact with my mom stating that there was going to be no limit for me that day. I hardly buy clothes, and the majority of what I own comes from the 7th grade. Also, I needed business clothes for NYLF. So yes, a change was needed. In all, I (or rather, my mother) spent over $300. Ahhh there goes that Wii.. :]

Yesterday, my cousin from my father's side asked me to sing at her baby's Christening. I find it quite ironic how I'm not close at all with my father, but I love my family on his side. I'm also glad they didn't forget me and my mother, though my dad hardly has contact. I also saw Raymond and Michael, my cousins, after 2 years! Raymond's the only cousin of my age in the States, and we grew up together. I think we were each other's first kiss even, but that's mad nasty. We used to have adventures in his background. Dig up earthworms and desecrate them, chew "wheat grass." I miss him. Didn't notice that. He's awfully quiet now, though.

I don't detest my father, though I once thought I did. He's just... clueless I guess. A person who's clueless is annoying, but you can't hate them because... they just don't know anything. (Just cause he's Mormon he had to move to UT??) But whatever. Biologically he's my father, but by the definition of "dad" I can't really say.

Well, I sang "Ikaw" and "Girl in 14G" and got great response. I've wondered why I seek compliments, but still don't believe that I'm all that great. I've come to the conclusion that I desperately want to entertain the audience. As long as I've made them happy, I don't have to worry about how bad I did. They won't have to know that I'm really quite horrible.

It makes me so happy to know I have my father's family's support, that I'm not just some "Bata ni Rick kay Bonna." It makes me happy that they remembered the little girl who sang kareoke. Ate Arpie (sp?) is incredibly beautiful, even at 30--and that's pretty young. Get this, her real name is really Filipina. We call her Arpie from Republic of the Philippines. Wow, now that's country pride. Ironically, her husband's white and at least 2 heads taller than her. They're incredibly cute together. Damn, their kid's gonna be tall.

I was thinking a lot on the drive back. And you know what? I'm really liking this feeling of contentedness. There's no traditional teenage, deep-thinking, depressing thoughts to write about here... and that's a fucking relief. I'm enjoying life right now. It's not a big adventure or dramatic story or anything like that. Life's a beautiful story in itself. In the sunset, in the laughs, in walks, in the summer rains. I forget my name sometimes. I'm enjoying it by not getting too attached.

And maybe because I'm finally getting what I want. A couple years ago I'd cry myself to sleep sometimes because I was so frrustrated with singing. I stopped voice lessons, I cracked everytime I performed, I hardly performed... I just wanted that recognition. But now, I've been given opportunities to sing and Lord, I am so greatful. But you know what? I had to chase after them. I had to chase for my opportunity to be happy, and then make myself happy. I'm also letting myself get to know more people, and it's wonderful.

But most of the blogs I read consist of dejectedness and guilt and depression and yadda yadda. We are such teenagers. I especially hate reading the same depressing blogs from the same people. I hate it because I want to help, but I really can't. Life can be hard, of course I know that. It's frustrating not knowing where the fuck you belong, letting go. I can't say that everyone should be (or can be) as optomistic. And some things just can't be helped. I find myself annoying sometimes, with the advice I give. Always look on the bright side! But Lord, I know sometimes there's none...

But Goddamit, you pick yourself up! The kind of happiness you want can only be achieved by you. Jesus, we're all trying to survive here, who's got time to be depressed? Nothing happens when you just sit there. A person can ask and vent and rant and whatever. I'll be that vent for you. But nothing's gonna happen unless you make it.

Someone might think I'm working too hard, always being busy. An overachiever. But I'm just enjoying life here. And going as far as my little body can take me.

Don't Rain On My Parade

Sat, 21 Jun 2008 04:43:23 GMT

Ok first: LKASJDFLKSJDF;LAKSJDF;LAKSDJF ;LS FALL;KJSAJFSLK;JDF A LK;JDFSA;LKJFDSA;LKJFDSAL;KJFDSA

So anyway, the past few days have been surprisingly eventful of sorts. I finally finished finals on Wednesday! WOOHOO! But seriously. That was fucked up. The night before I got home late so I didn't even have time to study for the Jefferson final. We had to right 5 random essays out of 10 and fill up a 16 page booklet. So basically, we had to know how to write 10 essays to write on the spot. Also had the bio final. So of course, I studied for Bio Ch. 1-20 (not even the half of the book) for 5 and a half hours. I didn't worry so much about history, since I could do that during lunch period.

Well.. it turns out that History was going to be first and Bio last. Well, with some last minute studying I was able to fill everything. But I was the last person to write. Nearly took my whole lunch period over. Damn, I'm gonna die at the SAT. Bio was next--but you know, wasn't so worried since I studied for 5 and half hours. Oh yea, slept at 3 and woke up at 6:30 too. So I go in the room... only to find I've been exempted from the final.

Holy damn.

But anyway, I took a swag of Starbucks coffee and headed towards Newport with Fran. Yay, I missed best friend. We toured Hoboken and went into this little boutique that sold accessories. Thought we could make our Light Rail ticket limit by taking the 2nd St. stop... but I totally understimated the distance. We got there a minute before the limit, but our train never came. There goes another 2 dollars. At Newport, we saw Ate Dimple (my cousin) and the kids. She mentioned the Victoria Secret's semi-annual sale and we ran straight for it. I think we must have spent 1 1/2 hours there or something. Doing what? Sifting through 3.99 underwear of course. We both bought our first pair of thongs and vowed to wear it whenever the other decided to wear it. Our first schedule is tomorrow when we go shopping again. Yea, we're weird.

Yesterday Sal came over to visit and brought flowers and chocolate :] The gang went to Newport, but we didn't really do much. Jean thought it was a cool idea to "go with the flow" and walk all the way to Montgomery and back. But it was incredibly fun and carefree. Very infinite.

Today I went to Tita Bituin's house and FINALLY figure out what I'm gonna sing for Filipino Idol. So excited. There's a hint. Just now I just came back from watching Cry Baby in New York. Dude, it was absolutely AMAZING. I'm so glad I got to catch it before it closes on Sunday. Such a pity, it's such a wonderful show. So hilarious. What they did with the kissing scene was ingenius!

Anyway, all I want to do now is watch My Girl. I'm feeling carefree and happy. DON'T RAIN ON MY PARADE.

(hint for ya)

Insecurity.

Sun, 15 Jun 2008 19:29:18 GMT

I hate that most about myself. Insecurity. I feel so .. dejected right now. Not good enough, or pretty enough, or confident enough, or anything enough.

I just came back from singing in the Philippine Day thing over in Passaic. And for some reason, I got overly nervous I just kept talking and talking. Just.. trying to connect with the audience, but I couldn't get them. No response. Ended up making a big fool out of myself. I swear I could see thought bubbles popping out of their heads: "Just sing already!" I sang alright. Forgot a snippet of words in Ikaw, but other than that... I didn't crack. Went down to a Db instead of D, but I held the mic far away. Only people with a good ear and in music good hear it. I really, really, really need to stretch my belt. Girl In 14G was good, again. That's practically my song, never fails. And it caught more attention than Ikaw. But I'd really like to go back to my competition singing again, not so much broadway and jazz. But I love that too.

So why do I feel like crying?

I'm comparing myself with other people. I know it's really prejudice to say but... I feel so uncomfortable with people in the suburbs. I look at the kids my age there and it just feels like.. they're better than me. They have better clothes, they're hotter. I just don't feel good enough. And it's like... "What the hell am I doing here?" Most--not all-- are concerned with Coach, Abercrombie, Hollister, etc. etc. All the things I can't afford on a daily basis. They don't know public transportation or like.. the ghetto and the deep nitty, gritty stuff. I like talking to their parents better, because they know the hard work it takes to getting that kind of comfortable life. It's a horrible outlook, I know. And it's horrible to think that way of everyone. But I can't help thinking that. That they're judging me. Or... even if they don't give a damn, I feel that way anyway.

I'm upset at myself for making a fool of myself. For letting people get to me. And there's that one 12 year old girl always there singing too. Won the Pinoy Pop Superstar for kids last year, and you could tell it totally got to her head. That kind of snobbyness really,really, really gets to me. I don't know why. It just... makes me feel smaller. And I can't do my own thing properly.

God, I want that audience to accept me. That's all a performer could ever want. I"m entertaining them. And I'm learning more things about performing everytime I sing. I've learned you have to connect with the audience. But most of all, you need to TRUST yourself. Oh my God, like that's the biggest thing I need to work on. I tried overconnecting which led to talking to much which led to making a fool out of myself. I didn't have the confidence. And I couldn't just let it slide this time. What happened to the "fun slide?"

I don't know. I can only hope my actual singing made up for my extensive talking. See... I didn't even sing that bad. It was a good performance. I don't know why I feel so sad. My mom didn't record it cause she still doesn't know how to fucking use the camera. So I'll never know how my performance went from the audience's point of view. I don't know. I don't know. I hate this feeling.

Riana, you love that stage. Yes, I do. How the hell could you let people take you from that? I don't know. Well, you better fucking stop. I'll try. And stop being so prejudice about people, you horrible son of a bitch. Ok.

And oh yea, Happy Father's Day, mom.

A Sip of Vocaccino

Sat, 14 Jun 2008 20:10:30 GMT

Ah.. I'm so tired. Part of me just wants to sink into my bed and sleep for several millenia. But alas, way too many things to do.

12 Angry men was... hm. Everyone looked sexy in their business attire though. Except for me. Because my shirt was too large. Haha, XL from Limited Too. Mr. Gutmann let us do it again since we sucked total balls the first time. See what happens when no one memorizes their lines?

Last night was the Chorus Concert. Honestly, I think I have way too much fun while I sing. Oh my, I just LOVE that genre of music. American Standards, you know. Cole Porter, Gershwin, Irving Berlin.. etc. (It's raining now? What?) Just kept tapping and snapping. And oh that trumpet and saxophone just makes everything so sexy. Loved the tomcat drums too. Everyone was just simply amazing. And I do mean everyone. It's great seeing some people just let go and give it their all. Ms. Brancato came up to me and said I looked like I had fun...maybe too much? LOL. And this couple said that the song I sang was the song they danced to at their wedding. That was really sweet.

This morning I went to the Filipino Idol audition. Jeez, can you say "filipino time" to the max? They said to come before 10 AM. Ok. We waited there for 2 hours. What the hell. Anyway, my mom and I met up with this guy who was also auditioning. MIchael, I think. Born in the States, yet still a seasoned speaker of Tagalog. He'd definitely be one of the people High Tech would hate on for "only sticking with the Filipinos." It's good he knows his culture and all, but it seems to me like that's all he knows. Nursing school, tagalog interjections, sings an old-as-hell operatic filipino song, looking for Red Ribbon... Don't get me wrong, he's a really cool guy. Really fun to talk to too.

The other contestants didn't come until 12 or 12:30. Some were really great, experienced singers. This one guy just graduated with a degree in music industry. He sang great. And some, weren't so great. Chelsea was there too. That girl can belt, but she seemed really nervous. Poor girl. All in all, 16 supposedly registered but only 9 actually auditioned. They were going to accept only 8, but in the end they just let us all compete.

Oh, and I should say that annoying emcee at the Philippine Expo was there. He remembered me from when I last sang. Only this time, he wasn't so annoying. Just really cool beans. I didn't know he was a composer and such a good on-the-spot pianist. This one guy got bongo drums out of his car, the emcee took on the piano, and we just jammed a jazz version of "I Will Survive" right there on the stage in front of everyone. I made up lyrics haha. It was just so spontaneous and fun. ;] And plain old silly. I live my life for moments like these.

So yea, I'm in FIlipino Idol. It's on June 29. Eh.. gotta pick a good song. I got mad competition. And ARGH. Tomorrow is the Philippine Independence Day Parade! Gotta sing for that too... Also gotta study for finals. Damn.

LOL. Why the hell am I just singing for these Filipino things? Not that I'm complaining. Whatever gets thrown at me I guess. Taking my chances. Hm.. it's raining outside, in the broad daylight. Another thunderstorm. Shit. It's big.

Wah, I love summer rain.

Close Call

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 22:39:19 GMT

WHOA. LOL.

Close call fo shizzles. See, I could've ... but I didn't. Thank goodness. God, you're really nice. But I was asking for it too.

Anyway, today was uneventful. We had a Wedneday schedule with a 1 o clock dismissal. Amazing. Also, finals were pushed back for tomorrow. Thank God too, since we totally would've bombed our English final. For this one, Mr. Gutmann's letting do a play for 12 Angry Men. It's just highly annoying for me (a theater person) how some people just don't give a fuck and have ADD x 120398. But whatever. "Rehearsal" --if that's what you wanna call it-- went well, for the most part. Can only hope the best for tomorrow.

Also, tomorrow's the American Standards Coffee House. That's pretty chill. Signed a couple yearbooks, but maybe 2. Which constitutes a couple, by the way. Kinda sad that not a lot of people are asking me to sign. Oh well, I'll get to know more people.

I helped my mom cook tonight. And I should really do that more often. Your food tastes even more delicious after you've cooked it yourself. Made this amazing salmon fillet (prepackaged) and did the recipe on the back. I love lime. Also cooked ampalaya! Yummy. And I ate a piece of vanilla bean cheesecake, TOTALLY going against my diet. But whatever. Yumm. :]

While I was cooking I got a phone call from Maharajah Idol saying that I'm singing for Sunday. What?? LOL. Why nobody told me this sooner, we'll never know. Gotta start looking for a song.

I'm out.

Happyness.

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 02:42:48 GMT

I don't usually do this anymore. Homework and finals and all this crap I have to do kills. But maybe... it's also because I've been somewhat happy lately. And if not happy, then content.

It's been a real heatwave. Not only has it been in the 80s-90s, we've had temperatures go over 100 in the past two days. And of course, all that hot wind has to go somewhere. Last night there was... I don't even know how to explain it. I felt the wind shake the house and the lightning strike on top of us. The wind howling, garbage cans rolling. It was the strongest wind I've felt in a long time. I turned off my computer (thank God, my files were saved) and ran straight towards my mommy's lap and hung on for dear life. Bitch, I don't care I was scared. Eventually we lost electricity for the whole night. Beautiful. There goes my essays. Thank God I wasn't the only one at home. I had text conversations with Francine, Toby, Olivia, Marko, and Liz. Later, Rogie, Rebecca, and their Dad came by to talk for a bit. We ended up having halo halo and ice cold buko juice by candlelight. It was sweet and spontaneous. We stepped outside the porch after the storm passed by. The damp wood felt cool. The drinks and conversations were cool. I love having Rogie for a landlord.

Today we ended up having no school because the lighting caused the electricity to go down. Mother Nature sure has good aim (lol Olivia). So.. I spent the early part of the day working, working, working out. Yes, I've regressed back to that old "Ineedtoloseweight" mindframe. But it gets milder, and milder when it comes back. This time, I'm really intent on making it down to 90. It's just 5 pounds, jeez! But I'm not gonna be anorexic again. 8th grade still scares me... how I actually counted less than 400 calories like that. This will be permanent.

Mommy was off so we had a good breakfast together and did the laundry. Later I suggested a movie and we watched Iron Man in Edgewater. That movie was friggin amazing, thought I wish I didn't read the reviews. It felt like a rollercoaster! A taco chip was held 5 inches from my open jaw for most of the show. Once it was finished, my mom felt like hopping to another theater and we watched the first 15 minutes of What Happens in Vegas. We left right after they slept with each other. -_-

Afterwards we headed to Hoboken. We walked around looking at cute little overprized boutiques. We ate at Satay later. I ordered the Mango Salad, which was totally not worth the 6.50. Literally, it was shredded mango, red cabbage, and red peppers. None of that leafy green stuff either. But my mom ordered the spare rib curry and we shared that with the ginger rice. Haha, it sounds so exotic. Kuya Jon stepped in to get Ate Dimple some food (they're always there) and we said our unexpeted greetings. Also saw another familiar lady come in, but I forgot her name. Took some fried ice cream to go (wasn't as good as Ashiya) and continued walking down Washington. Walked for a bit and saw Toby and Adele and Casey(?) walking right towards me. Gave Toby a quick hug and he took a bite out of my fried ice cream. Kept walking with mommy till we finally decided to come home. It was a great day.

I'm trying to be happy on my own. I am happier on my own. Spring brought upon all these teenage pheremones. Literally, I can tell you about 10 new couples walking around at High Tech. I was one of them, wasn't I? It's kind of awkward sometimes. But you know what? I have more freedom to be with people--connect with people I've never talked to before. I'm breaking out of my asiany shell lol. There's no extra "and (x amount of syllable name)" tagging along my name. I can flirt with who I like, talk to who I like. I don't have to constantly worry about how to keep things going. Right now, I really really wanna be on my own. There's so many things I want for myself, that only I can fight, fight, fight for. I'm determined to be happy. But this happiness I can only attain for myself. No one can give it to me, the happiness I long for. I don't want just some guy taking things from me. It's mine, I want it. And I'm annoyed at him for being what my mom said anyway. I don't want issues like that. In a way, a guy would own me.

Instead, I'm feeling the summer and I'm owning it. I'm owning the hill, the heat, the shorts, the summer dresses, the low-fat ice cream. I'm trying to be happy with my grades, where I am. I'm trying to be happy with how I look. I know I'm not the hottest person around. Often than not, I'm overlooked. Can't help but compare myself to Best Friend. But you know? I will be so amazingly hot, no one will know where I came from. So there.

Before I gave away my journal, I flipped through a few pages. Wow.. I was really frustrated with my singing and performing. Now I know God will provide in due time. It feels like I've just been singing everywhere now. After Tita Bituin, I feel all my confidence coming back. I get a gig or so once every 1 or 2 weeks. It's wonderful. My main goals: entertain the audience, feel the song. This friday I'm singing Someone To Watch Over Me with my own little twist for the Chorus Concert. Saturday I'm gonna audition for Philippine Idol. Wish me luck!

Finals are coming up, but I don't really care. I'll continue writing. Unexpected person I started talking to recently: Toby. He's actually really really cool beans. He just...worries me. And I don't wanna go all Dr. Phyllis and analyze his shit.. because no one likes being told guesses about their life and baggage. Can't help it though.

muziq x3 ri: arghh hate my computer
KingToby279: i hate my life
muziq x3 ri: :[
muziq x3 ri: switch your glasses
muziq x3 ri: is it really that bad?
KingToby279: haha
KingToby279: naaah
KingToby279: i just joke around about it

He's mad cool beans.

Reading a new book I bought with Vanessa. Guess I'm stuck to buying Barnes & Nobles Classics, as they're cheaper. Books are so expensive these days. But oh it's so crips under my fingertips. It's Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis, and it's amazing/hilarious/wonderful.

And oh yea! Today is Mr. Gutmann's birthday, so I bought him a can of Halo-Halo mix. ;] We had a whole discussion about halo halo and asian food in general once during class. Heh, maybe he's girlfriend can fix it up for him. Ah, he's such a cutie. A shame he's going through a midlife crisis. It's adorable actually.

Hello, big 4-0. You are so young.

Musical Theater Update

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 00:55:53 GMT

Incredible. I haven't updated this thing in such a long time. It's kind of ironic since I go through the day thinking about what I'm going to blog about. It feels like I do the blogging in my mind already. I should really start spending 30 minutes to write out my thoughts here. It helps.

Anyway, so many things happened since I last wrote. Even then, there were things I left out. Let's see... backtracking a month? Dracula was absolutely amazing. I think I finally know what it means to be in Musical Theater, and I love it all. Maybe I might get hated for that, but I don't really care. I didn't even completely lose touch with everyone after the show ended. My social circle at High Tech is expanding. It's kind of nice.

Gift circle came and went, but I had to miss it because of the piano recital. Thank God, that's a load off. I finally quit piano after 9 years. I guess it feels kind of weird--just stripping off that asiany piece of me. No, I really loved it... But I just lost that passion. And my workload just simply won't allow it. In any case, I guess that's the last time I'll see the "New York Giants" in a while. God, how incredibly awkward was that. We were so close before... But they all grew up of course. All in their 20s, in college, in a relationship. All paired up but me. Except for King, of course. However, he's my age. I've often wondered what if we.. but I wonder about that with every guy. No, of course. Haha. Still, they're not the playful 17 and 18 year old kuyas I used to hang out with and have fun sleepovers with. Yes, all guys. I guess that sort of made me boyish, and I prided on that. But maybe there's a limit. Maybe once a person reaches 20 he's too old to hang out with you. He's got his lady, you know. But that's alright. We all have to grow up. I'm happy they're happy and that we could still hug and take pictures.

I'm kinda proud with what I got people for Gift Circle. Basically, everyone gives the seniors and 4 random people a "meanigful" gift from around the house. No buying allowed. It's actually really easy to bullshit, but I wanted to give something nice. I got Nick the shirt he wore when we exchanged shirts. Ironically, he gave me the same thing. I gave Adrianna MJ's Thriller CD (I honestly couldn't find anything else). To Marko I gave my Build-A-Bear, Ryalle. At first I couldn't figure out what the hell to give him. But he gave the hint of being lonely, so I gave her to him. I gave Gaby... Jesus. I gave her my friggin journal. The only one I ever completed. It's quite uncanny (and frankly, quite annoying) how much we have in common. Though, I don't think I'm that OCD about everything. It's a hard truth. But I do believe that a person can be so determined to be happy that... she ends up being unhappy. It's your mindset, you know? If you think the world's out to get you then yes, it is.

I'm a slide. A fun, happy slide. Well.. as much as I can be.

But we are alike, and we think alike. Our history as well (it's the journal I wrote in when my dad came) So I gave her that. I gave Sam my autographed Xanadu playbill and Nikki a bag of garlic (unfortunately, she didn't get our inside joke) and Fade. Goddamit I friggin gave away Perks of Being A Wallflower to Andres! It was hard, but it worked. Finally, I gave Ralph my infamous orange and yellow volleyball--virtually the only piece of athletic equipment I've known. It kind of figures. He's the closest thing to a kuya I have. All those beautiful memories are in that ball.

So that's the Musical Theater updates. It's finally over. Now everyone starts from the bottom, desperately trying to hang on to a beautiful thing. This time, auditions are really auditions. Anyone (even the die-hard juniors) can get cut. There were 60 people at the audition, about 30 freshman who's notion of musical theater = High School Musical. I don't know. I don't think I have much to worry about. And if I don't get in, then I can do other things.

madgirl fever.

Mon, 26 May 2008 02:52:38 GMT

I'm sick. It's a beautiful 5-day weekend, and I'm sick, sick, sick as a dog. I do want to blame it on the world, but very often I stop myself and say "Shut the fuck up Riana, you brought this on yourself." And I did. I really did.

I talk to myself a lot.

"It's all this stress and homework piled on me." Well, maybe you couldn't handle it, big baby. "Is God punishing me?" Yes, because you didn't believe hard enough. "There's never enough time." There's never enough time.

My eyes are burning and I was just crying only a moment ago in the bathroom. Mom turnedd on the hot water so I could use it as a sort of humidifier, but I still couldn't breathe.

Wheeze. Wheeze. Wheeze.

I could be at Vanessa's instead of this. I could be practicing piano instead of this. I could be studying for zoovival instead of this. I could be singing instead of this.

I could be.. writing, or something. So much's on my mind.

I need to leave.

Spring

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 04:17:49 GMT

Spring's finally here. My favorite season. After a what seems to be the longest winter (and the cold always lasts long), flowers pop up on skeleton trees, proving they were alive after all. A warm breeze passes by me, and suddenly I don't really need to wear my jacket anymore. I see sun going down to APA. Sun pouring on walls and walls of building-- I'm witnessing something more. More than society, and buildings, and corporations, and things we people do.

I haven't looked at the sky in a while.

I guess I haven't enjoyed my season so much. I noticed that I've become a lot more cynical, sarcastic. Haven't been like that since 7th grade. Not sure if I really want to revert back to that state of mind and feeling. Damn, I was really depressed. But I'd sure like the deep, profound words. I feel really ignorant, it's sad. So goddamn young. But you know? I want to treasure my youth, but maybe I don't know how. No time. My life now is like Spring-- the shortest, most beautiful season of the year.

Something's happened to me. Or maybe I'll blame it on my period again. Hm, ever wondered that your vagina's a crying baby and you just stick a pacifier up its mouth so it can shut up? I don't know. Thought of that just now. See? I'm so blunt and ehhh. I wish I could be one of those happier, cute, perfectly talented people with all the confidence. See? There I go comparing myself again. Maybe I've been depressed, who knows. I've been losing a lot of my stuff lately, and it's annoying the shit out of me. It's not like me. My grades are slipping, I lost my wallet, headband, don't know about my scholarship, can't play piano, and my camera broke among many other things. I go crazy over the little things now. Last night I broke down in an empty house.

I know a lot of people believe in this but... I honestly don't have anywhere to turn to but God. Not meaning to sound preacher-ish. In fact, I think I let go of Him for a while. As if I could prove to myself that I really don't need Him and I could do things on my own. And can you believe, everything started going wrong? Isn't it cruel though?God, help me. You can't base yourself on material things. Temporary gifts society gives us. Life is so much more than that. It is more than that. Maybe I've forgotten a lot of things I've learned about the sky and how shadows dance on my wall at sunset and whatnot. All I've written for Gutmann were essays on how society affects this and that. And my eyes have been looking down too much. So I started thinking.

Someone asked me about love. "What is love?" Goodness, asking a 16-year old about a word that gets thrown around so easily. A deep, profound thing supposedly. Love essentially makes us human. With the word "love" you immediately think of the romantic kind, and my cynical self thinks of naive nonsense. But then I think of a mother's love and wow, it does blow you away. Imagine then, that romantic kind of love. I hope and wonder that it's truly more than just giving the other person a special kind of attention. That it's truly companionship and understanding. And often, it's "What is life without love?" Love for another? Another to love you? It's funny how a person needs to have another to listen to them and give them butterflies.You need to be loved and love another person.You need acceptance from others.

What about acceptance for yourself? "I'm alive." Have you ever thought about that? I can move! I can breathe! I feel feel the sun on my back! I talk! I can see all these beautiful thing! I'm a working machine! We understand that when some gadget doesn't work, it's because the batteries aren't working. What makes us work? I try thinking of that and "love" seems so base. Something we as humans created, among many other things. Love has stages you know. But it is our nature, however, to be with others. And thinking in terms of our human society box, love is a powerful bond that connects people, makes them do crazy things, makes them feel crazy. But I think of higher divorce rates, broken relationships, and absolute irony.

I want to love myself before I fall in love. Lord, it takes a day to fall in love but a whole lifetime to love. It's life, but I feel like I'm wasting it. Funny, huh? Coming from a 16-year old. It's true, I don't know shit. Maybe I can give a better answer when I'm older. I actually respect that word, and I don't want to throw it around. All I know is.. when I say it, there's a truth that washes over my body. But when it doesn't, that's when I know it's not that deep type of love.

Anyway, we started tech week for Dracula today. Lighting guy came and put it all together. Finally we saw how the audience would see the set with all the lights. And wow, the show is KICKIN BAS ASS. I honestly feel sorry for anyone who doesn't watch it. "It's $15!!" is such a bad excuse.

Mon, 14 Apr 2008 04:44:57 GMT

ExSpEcToVoBiS323: today is yesterday's tomorrow
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: and the sun will come out.. tomorrow
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: which is today
muziq x3 ri: or today\
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: so no worries
muziq x3 ri: xD
muziq x3 ri: arghh im confused but alright then
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: lol
muziq x3 ri: lol oh teenage years
muziq x3 ri: you wont be that anymore soon :o
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: I kinda hope not
muziq x3 ri: dont wanna grow up?
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: don't want to stay too young
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: I hope I'm like my parents and age gracefully, feeling like I'm still a kid at heart
muziq x3 ri: hehe
muziq x3 ri: dont get so stressed
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: I try not to
muziq x3 ri: hmm i dont know about me though
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: you don't get stressed
muziq x3 ri: T.T
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: you're still young
muziq x3 ri: you know what?
muziq x3 ri: balance
muziq x3 ri: i work hard but set aside time for friends
muziq x3 ri: and once i get into college and get a damn good job with damn good salary
muziq x3 ri: and find a guy and family
muziq x3 ri: then i'll be happy
muziq x3 ri: and age gracefully
muziq x3 ri: i think you need to be with someone
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: you're still too young to worry about that stuff
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: life's short but the days are long
ExSpEcToVoBiS323: you have plenty of time to think about the future, so just live up the present

Undefined

Sat, 12 Apr 2008 03:07:32 GMT

I don't like myself.

I don't even know who the fuck I am. I thought I did... Maybe it's a teenager-hormone thing. Always blaming it on the hormones. It's hard to explain. Everday I walk through the halls with a happy-go-lucky demeanor, smiling and poking fun at others to get a laugh out of them. What if it's not me? What if the person you see is only the person I want to be. I hate these fits of insecurity and doubt. Doubt in myself, my ability, and my worth. I couldn't even write about it for the longest time. Frankly, it scares me. It scares me not knowing my own identity.

I want... so many things. Not so much as physicial things, but I want to be someone else. Great. The best. Somebody. Yea I'm "good," but never "enough." I'm smart, but not enough to get recognized. I sing, but not as good as other people who are always, always, always younger than me. I do the theater shindig, but not nearly as good enough to ever get a role. I beasted at piano, but it all fell down the drain with sophomore year. I wrote pages and pages of words and thought--pure, deep thoughts-- said to be too mature for my age. Now, I feel so ignorant and stupid.

I want so badly to be that. Honestly, I thought so highly of myself in grammar school. Because I was all that... compared to the people in my grammar school. It's a joke, I tell you, a big fat sad joke that smacks you in the face when you get to high school. And I love high school. I feel so young and enlightened and carefree (sometimes). But sometimes .. it feels like I've missed so many opportunities to show my worth. And in the end, there wasn't any worth to show. I'm never good enough. I don't know who I am anymoree. Because I'm not even good at the things I love to do. Or thought I loved doing. Things I've just always done.
To be honest, I'm not used to not being on the top. Got used to it in grammar school I guess. I lie to myself a lot too. Trying to tell myself how things "really" work so I'm still decent where I stand. People would probably think I'm a snotty bitch and somebody needs to kick me off my high horse. Yea, I know that ok? I know that. I still want to be though. Kill me for my overambitiousness.

I'm always comparing myself with others. It's not good, I know.I preach against that myself, but you really can't help it. I'm trying to be myself, whoever that is, but I don't like what I see. There were days in my preteen years, when I was so carefree and proud of who I was. I spoke without trying to impress, I wrote without trying to impress, I just was. I.. don't even know what the hell I want to study for my career. We pick our majors next month and I just want to do a little bit of everything. I'm just so confused and annoyed and frustrated. Nobody sees me.

And another thing: I fucking hate being so short. I hate having to play the cute card unintentionally. I hate having the filipino stereotype follow me around. I hate being a sidenote.

But God, I'm trying so, so, so, so, so, so, so hard to love myself.

Reason

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 03:24:30 GMT

I want definition. Please.

11:13

Mon, 07 Apr 2008 03:34:35 GMT

lol. umm I meant to say 90 .. <3 DON'T WATCH THIS READ MY POEMS INSTEAD! ;D

Life Revisited

Sun, 06 Apr 2008 19:52:00 GMT

My silence probably implies that nothing much is going. But on the contrary, my dear, too many things have been swirling around in my noodle. I'm such a procastinator. Every night this past week I've been sleeping around 1-2. I really don't know why thinking back. Probably homework or something. Yesterday was Musical Theater. We practiced with the set for the first time, which was pretty cool. Just a hassle especially with spacing. I find that I'm not really scared of heights anymore. Ok yea, I still am. I think I need to stay away from Jason and Ralph for a while. I hate it when guys (coughactorscough) get too cocky and say whatever shit they want to. I know we have this "little girl/big brother/daddy" banter but seriously, they take it too far. And whenever I say something, they put me down like a "little girl." I'm getting incredibly annoyed with them commenting on me being asian. I'm going to take AP Bio, mom's forcing me to be a doctor, I live off of rice, I only hang out with certain people, I'm so short, etc etc. It's not even enough that I hear those comments among the sophomore class, but I gotta hear it from them too. I'm sick of it. Why doesn't anyone just look at me? I did a great thing yesterday and told them off. And I never get pissed off. Must've scared them. Oh well. I do love them though. It's quite funny.

Last night I took a nap at 8 pm and woke up at 4:52 am. I guess my body really needed to tell me something. It was beautiful. Got out of bed around 6 am and caught my mom before she left for work. It's a weird feeling, watching your parent leave for work at an early hour. Normally I would wake up just to find her gone, with the sun high in the sky already. But I saw her leave to work. I made her lunch, and it was nice. Then I cuddled in my bed and just wrote and wrote til 8. Then I got ready to sing for mass. Nancy pulled a 10:30 mass on me, but that was fine. I plan on staying home and relaxing for once. Oh, and play piano too.

Continental Drift

I am asian.
Therefore I am these:
My chinky eyes
will only define
my overambitious wall
and lack of height.
My know-it-all mouth
will only partake
in rice with cats and dogs
eaten with chopsticks
--of course.
My yellow skin
marks the world I'm in
and the ability to write scribble
and make sense of it.
I am the Oriental Voodoo Doll
sucking up to GI Joe
who one day I'll probably treat
for diabetes, my medical career in tow.
Oh, my ignorance. My ignorance.

Why yes,
my roots do stretch to the East--
(Land of grass-eating-piano-playing people)
But they anchor me here:
the Land of Opportunity
Land where my mother came
in her funny accent
not by boat, but by plane
to work for a better life and give me
chicken wings and Coach bags.
Yes I eat chicken wings--and hamburgers too.

I colored myself with hopes and dreams
But you color me yellow
Like a child using one crayon
Coloring across borders and borders
of a whole continent
Immediately I am this:
a list of characteristics
derived from one continent.
Gee, glad I made the cut.

There is identity
beneath this black hair.
Look at me.
                      Look at me.
                                            Look at me.

By the way, last Tuesday I got a bob virtually out of nowhere. Everyone was like whoa. I love it. People say they get haircuts to become a new person of sorts. To let go of the past. I love Lana. She's so adorable. Whilst the other Vietnamese workers at her salon speak in such harsh tongues, she's quiet softspoken and makes the language beautiful. She dealt with my transformation wonderfully.

The Bob

Your memory
is tangled in my hair
Blowing in my face
with your name still on it.
Your fingerprints
laces around my head
Around strands of matter already dead
Caught in a wind no longer there.

I've tripped on your face before
ebony reflected,
on the hinge of my door
while trying to leave and get a cut
Still you met me on the floor

And yet,
the swift
                crisp
                           clip
of the scissors know
the eagerness of mine
to see my soul.
And on my lap fell your kiss
On my shoulder fell your gaze
On her hand fell your tiny lisp
On the floor fell your gait.

And in the mirror I face
my face premiering before
strangers behind me.
Guilt fails to seep in
For on my scalp
above all things,
I keep your love.
Don't feel bad.
Maybe you won't be able to see this
But damn,
I look good.

Hmm.. I've been thinking a lot. I really should write more. Gutmann makes me feel so ignorant and stupid. Dracula is on the way, and I'm shaking in my boots. Piano makes me cry. Singing is opening new doors for me. Recently got $75 for doing a wedding yay! Haha, it's really not a lot. But it's such a good feeling getting paid for something you love to do. I'm writing poetry again, which I haven't done in a while. I suck, really. But it's something I've always had. I want to learn more about the world because I feel ignorant, therefore childish. God bless Martin Luther King Jr. and Charlton Heston. I heard they were good people.

Oh. Watch the music video for "Total Eclipse of the Heart" LOL.

Love you.

The Neuron Star Post

Wed, 02 Apr 2008 03:45:38 GMT

I am an emotional bubbling fountain-wreck.

The past two weeks have been crazy. I've been meaning to write all about it, truly. But I guess I just haven't had the time. Or rather, part of me wants to forget and just move on. In the end, the words go nowhere and I need to throw up.

No, I literally need to throw up. I'll update later.

Truth is...

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 22:46:49 GMT

I hated it before. I was so --and still am-- very happy for them, but all Ralph did was talk about how great things are. You know.. the morning after I finished crying. So conveniently during the time I wasn't feeling too good about things. He says and does things all the things I couldn't before. I don't know if they understand how privileged they are. And how... jealous I am. And he says things like "I haven't seen her in such a long time." Well when we dated, I only saw Sal once a month. I love Ralph, but he really needs to think before he does things, really. But... Francine really needs him so oh well. I'm just letting out my frustration now because it bothered me before.

But forget about that.

I just felt a sense of self-empowerment. Feeling better. I am Kate Chopin.

Indecisive

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 22:21:45 GMT

I was really bored today, even though I hat a shitload to do again. I don't know why I've been reaching for other company lately. Usually, I revel in what little time I get to myself. But the more time I have to myself, the more time I'm left to my thoughts. The more I have to think, and I really don't want to anymore. I don't want to think about certain things and I don't want to do work either. Everything's on my back and it feels like I'm being pressured all the time. But... I really don't know what.

I feel lonely, but I need some alone time. Time for myself.

Francine and Ralph picked me up, and I'm glad. At least I'm not stuck at home by myself again. I don't mind being a third wheel since Francine was mine before. But seriously... they're worse than I was. He likes to rub it in my face and it's annoying, but really... don't care. I'm happy they're happy.

I'm still thinking. I really need to be alone. I'm contemplating drowning in work again, but that only gets me sadder..

I'm not like.. depressed or anything. I don't even know. Maybe it really is just my period. My legs really hurt and I couldn't move. I couldn't before either. Who knows. I still need to do NYLF essay, read Billy Budd, do Human Behavior outline, study for Japanese, practice piano and singing... and I'm given the time to do so with this 4 day weekend. I just .. can't.

OH! And as a sidenote I guess.. you can't feel tampons but you know it's still there. It's kind of weird.

Quiet Thoughts of A Girl

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 22:26:23 GMT

I don't know how much more I can take. How much more feeling my heart can hold-- I'm sick of it. It's like trying to fill an 8 oz cup with 20 oz worth of juice. Don't work, you know. My heart is heavy.

These past couple days have been a real breakthrough for me.. Also very exhausting. I don't know why it's taken me so long to write about it. It's a lot to think about you know. But I should start know before my list accumulates to a long ass entry even longer than the one I'm about to write.

Tuesday, after voice lesson, I made the random decision to go over my cousin's house to visit with my mom. I love going there to visit the kids. So young and innocent. I'm really good with kids. Kuya Jon is one of the most intelligent people I know, and I consider everything that comes out of his mouth. Ate Dimple is just a cool person and when she speaks it reminds me of home, the Philippines. Her accent, her facial expressions. And... they're really one of the few family members I have here. I love family, I just don't have enough of them. I don't like it. But they invite me and my mother for dinner often. Maybe because they feel bad that it's just the two of us. I feel like they take me in like I'm a lost kitten or something. But in this case, I don't really mind their sympathy. We have deep talks at the kitchen table.

Somehow we got into the subject of me and college. I'm really frustrated not knowing what to do with myself. I get good grades in all my subjects, but what good is that really, if it doesn't show you a definite path for your career? I want to happy with my job. I want it to be my passion. I don't want to be just another person who took nursing or some other medical course for convenience and money. I don't care what Mr. Gutmann says. So what if the world revolves around money? I'm going to try and least do something that I love to get that money. I really admire people who've known from the start. But they come few and far in between.

Kuya Jon told me to pick three things I really liked. In his experience, he said, one will be the dominant and another one will help it. My third choice will disappear in the background and become my hobby. I chose Literature, Science, and Arts. All that is High Tech, and all that have nothing to do with each other. And I just kept getting frustrated and confused and.. and then I started crying. The papers say you have to know by sophomore year. And majors next year, jeez.

He said I was stuck in a "bog" because I thought too much. That's always been my problem. I'm never carefree enough, or spontaneous. I'm decent, but I'm not good or spectacular in any of the things I like. Which just.. sort of sucks. Why am I worrying about this now? I'm a teenager, I should be doing.. .teenager stuff. I just feel guilty whenever I'm not working.

And then there's the money problem. Or at least, I think it's a problem but I can't help worrying about that. I talked about that too. It's just my mother, you know? I need a job. And I need to know what I'm going to do now so I can work my way up to it and get the job faster and get my mom the house I promised her already. But.. I want to choose what to do and how to get there. I hate asking money from my mom. I need a job. And then somehow I got into how I felt my mom controlled me in some aspects. I can never be free either. I talked about the boyfriend issue, and how it really wasn't fair. At all. And how it hurt like hell. I just couldn't stop talking. I stared directly at Kuya Jon, because I couldn't even face my mother anymore. I was just annoyed.

I said that. I thought that.

I realized I can't speak. I'm a horrible person when put in a situation to find the right words on the spot. I hate to admit that, because writing is one of the few things I've been praised for. But it seems like that phase is over. I can't find the right words anymore. I overshoot a lot of the times. Even when I'm talking to someone. I realize I may have overshot it with blaming my mom. Oh no, I still blame her... but it shouldn't have been so severe. Maybe I made my life into this soap opera. The only reason this started was because I didn't tell her in the beginning.

My problem is that I can't communicate. I'm always too afraid. (And to the others: I know this, PLEASE don't rub it in my face THNX. I'm a bad communicator, but a good writer. )

And I hate to admit that I'm wrong, and I notice that I'll always try to blame it on something else. I can never be wrong. Is it possible to kick my own ass of the high horse? It still sucks. But he said this:

1) The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. I hated that the most. If everything my mother said goes, then where's my individuality? But he kept saying "Just for now, just for now.." 2 years, just 2 more years of being fed, paid for, cared for, housed... Is it worth it to speed life? How far could you hurt your mother to prove that you're right? Is it worth it to prove that you're right? No matter what, I'll always be angry at her about that because it still wasn't right. My mother is my mother, therefore she rules me. Inevitably, has a right to know where I'm going, who I'm with, what I'm doing. And unfortunately, I really don't have a say. Yes it sucks. It sucks like a bitch. But it's just for now.

2) Three things on my plate of possible careers. Two will stay, one will disappear. But I can't keep searching for something to close my mind on. Whatever I'll take will help me along the way. Anything I take in high school doesn't matter ,really. So I should just take whatever I feel. Stop worrying so much. I'm stuck in a bog right now, and I can't get out unless I loosen. I can't grow if I keep bending down on the floor.. searching for something, nothing. Fine. Alright.

3) Pain will always be there, not happiness. I only have to learn how to carry it. Yes, it does suck to be me. But who am I? I'm just a teenager. Messed up and run by hormones. Someone else has to control me. I need patience.

It's a hard reality I don't want to face, yet it's the best advice I've ever received. I still don't believe in some of the things he said, at least not whole-heartedly. Just because someone has gone through my age, doesn't mean we've been through or are going to go through the same experiences. I'm still living in that romantic world. "I am my own person, free love, communication, love for duty not money... " And in my heart I'll always dream for that way, believe in that way. It's not true though. It's plainly said in the money-run socioeconomy tube-sliding down a recession. I stayed there from 6-11:30, and couldn't stop crying since. The next day I looked like crap and felt so free. But you know.. after that I started talking to my mom again. Properly this time. And... we're almost to the point we were before. And I told her most everything now. It's a good feeling.

Then the other day I went to Francine's house after Holy Saturday mass. We hardly see each other-- only in Church now. But the way we talk and how easily we turn to each other when we really need help, I guess, give us legible reason to truly call each other "best friend." We sat on her bed that night, prolonging dinner till 11. And she talked to me about her problems. And I found that she basically had the same problem as me. She said the same things I said to Kuya Jon. It's crazy how our lives sort of mimic and contrast each other at the same time. She laid there crying, but I understood. Communication really is... so motherfucking damn important.

It's a hard thing to choose.Be poor and spend time with your children. Or work to give your children a better life, but never see them. Be true to your heart and leave, or stay together for the sake of the children and allow them to witness your fights. It's a difficult choice, but the result makes all the difference. These are really adult themese and situations. You can't be selfish in these things, off in your own little happy world, oblivious. Yet sometimes, you have to. Your parents give you that and you're obligated and lucky to take it.

God bless the selfish and the oblivious. Those who have never had to think so deeply about these things because they didn't have to. Those who never thought about stuff like economic recession and separation, but stayed in their happy place because their parents took care of it. I see, I touch, I have. I'd say grow up. But really, I'm just jealous.

Next up, Sophomore Semi-Formal and Musical Theater.

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 21:33:31 GMT

muziq x3 ri: ahh nutella.. i want some of that
stunned muffinnn: nutella is really popular here. it's like what every kid has for breakfast on their toast lolmuziq x3 ri: really?
muziq x3 ri: well.. is nutella french or something??
muziq x3 ri: haha idk. i really really want some :\
muziq x3 ri: but then that's all i'll eat
muziq x3 ri: and then i'll get fat >.>
stunned muffinnn: lol, sometimes i'll just eat it by itself with a spoon
stunned muffinnn: i have to stop myself after like... my sixth tablespoon lol lol lol
muziq x3 ri: o.O
muziq x3 ri: haha wow
muziq x3 ri: ahh i love that though.
muziq x3 ri: sand spam
muziq x3 ri: i love spam
stunned muffinnn: i don't like spam!
stunned muffinnn: i like corned beef lol
muziq x3 ri: :O you don't like spam?? well.. before i didn't either
muziq x3 ri: but eat it without cooking it. just microwave then put it in rice and roll it up in nori
muziq x3 ri: yummyyy' ;D
muziq x3 ri: and i like that special cornbeef from new zealand or something
stunned muffinnn: yeaah!
stunned muffinnn: i don't know the name either :/
stunned muffinnn: lol
muziq x3 ri: ahh but it's soo good :]
muziq x3 ri: ahh we should go to mitsuwa again
muziq x3 ri: you and me
muziq x3 ri: and not eat the whole week, so we can eat everything when we get there ;D
stunned muffinnn: haha!
stunned muffinnn: yeah we should :]

I realize whenever we talk, it's always about food. Hehe. <3

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 21:06:52 GMT

I'm mad at my mother. I'm mad at her for thinking everything's ok now. Fine, there's my week of being angry and not speaking. That part's over. It's really not. I can't go back to how we were, I really can't. I don't know if I can be close to her anymore, like when I was small. I'm mad at her for thinking I've "changed" and not thinking that I have a good reason for doing so. I'm mad at her for thinking he, of all people, apparently "influenced" me to be a mean, rude, indifferent teen. I'm mad at her silly attempts to be friends with me again that worked when I was a baby. I'm mad at her for not acknowledging I'm not a baby anymore and that she hurt me very badly.

I'm mad at her for not apologizing and most of all, believing she's superior and did the right thing.

Word-a-phobia

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 05:24:23 GMT

I am afraid of words.
Those tiny little things
crawling across the page
contaminating the pure simplicity of it all--
a single white page
with thoughts and more thoughts
of how we're more than just
the atoms we make.

Shady little prophets
with hoods above their faces
pattering down a white, blue lane
like TV evangelists-- Parading fools!
who don't even know what they're saying
Yet on they go
to be laughed at by viewers at home.

But I am most afraid of words
that come out of my own mouth
and find their way out my fingers,
sing a song and linger.
Like a child afraid of her own chickenpox
They swell beneath my skin this time
Jutting between my hips and thigh
Stabbing upwards, upwards
Flanking my mouth, uncouth
Rubbing my cheek til I am
raw and pink.

I hear their chanting inside my head
Such words won't cease
till I am dead
I roll up the page--the words packed stiff
And light the damn thing
and take a whiff.
Blown away, blown from me
...

WORD VOMIT.

Lmao. I love how there's drugs at the end. IDK. Goodnight!