Filler Post

Diary entry alert. A day in a life nobody has to read.

I liked UP's class schedule, Wednesday being the mid-week break. Even if I had already left the "premier" university, when they implemented the Monday "lie low day" instead of Wednesday, I was appalled. For logical reasons, Wednesday was set as the in-between for the Mon-Tue and Thu-Fri stress so that students would have had enough time both for academics and everything else. Setting "Monday" as the third weekend instead of the usual "Wednesday" just to be in accordance to GMA's let's-commemorate-holidays-on-Mondays Act was beyond me. No matter how you look at it, Mondays were never meant to be a "lie-low" day and Wednesdays were perfect to do in-between stuff because of all obvious reasons. I'm just repeating myself herfe.

I have been working hard for half the week and I'm scheduled to do so until its end; I thought I would barely get to this Friday with my sanity still intact. Today though, a Wednesday, proved to be a lot of things. I am physically and emotionally exhausted but also  feel very together overall. I will have to wake up in 3 hours time but that's a problem to be dealt with later on. I'm just glad that I'm still given this slight chance of being human.

I should update my employers on what I've been up to today but I don't feel like it.
C and I are still talking. I'm sure I'll have the guts to tell him what exactly I've been feeling and thinking soon enough. Please wish that everything goes well.
I sincerely and desperately hope that this week ends up to be as productive as I expect it to be. JUST PLEASE.

That's all.
And I don't want to go on my event on Saturday but I have to because obviously I'm a co-organizer. Bleagh.

Stressing out stress

Obviously I can't handle stress very well having a mood disorder. I either sulk and do nothing or try to do everything and still end up focusing on nothing. Last week I could barely lift my head up from the pillow so much as plug in my laptop charger, now I want to do everything and more, but too many things are running in my head I'm on an internal panic. But it's the relatively nicer kind of hypomania, and I'm thankful.

I had been down for weeks which the recent job loss scare aggravated, and I only started feeling that I was going up again I guess just two days ago; I was able to finish a report for work and yesterday another one. It never comes without a cost though.

I can't express my emotions very well in person, or I express it too well, I don't know. It's either I end up bursting into tears or into an ugly fit of anger. There is a recent event that has been stressing me out, but I can't talk about it because it shouldn't really concern me. Part of me would like to believe that I just don't understand grief very well and the ways that people cope with it but the saner part of me knows that I'm sensible enough to know. 

I don't hold back much when I write here but this time I think it's better not to divulge much detail. One important thing though, and I've said this too many times before it must be the truth, I don't think C and I are going to work. It's too complicated and I don't think I should be in such a taxing relationship. I could easily give up the good times in exchange of losing the stressful scenarios too. While I recognize that all relationships are stressful, I should also recognize when it's time to let go. I JUST DON'T FUCKING KNOW HOW OKAY. 

For the past almost two months, I really thought we could live like this. Me doing my thing, him doing his. I wouldn't even have to hang out with his friends and family when I don't want to (and believe me, I don't want to) and he assured me that I don't have to. But this recent event just turned the entire relationship a whole 180 degrees.

I know that he's not feeling well, he's sad and all, but I just can't empathize. Not only that I can't empathize, it also annoys me when he opens up to me and says the wrong things. But I guess it's true love when you ask the person how he feels and listen to him in spite your internal turmoil. True love is something I'd rather pass out on then.

Why be with someone with friends and family you don't want to be with? And on the other hand, why be with someone who doesn't want to be with your friends and family?

So, C, if you're reading this, please break up with me. See, I'm not even decent enough to do it myself.

---

I'll probably regret posting this and it will probably ruin the life of me despite trying my best to keep it toned down (yes, that is toned down, it's all worse inside my head). Oh, well.

Random Lists to See If I'm Still Alive Dot Com

At the top of my head, what makes me smile, rocks my socks off, and makes me warm and fuzzy inside LATELY (meaning I might have a different list entirely tomorrow depending on my mood):

• Natalie Portman
• Chatting online (sometimes)
• When someone randomly suggests a song
• Daft Punk
• Vampire Weekend
• Zac Efron and Hairspray
• Caravan Palace
• When our neighbor plays One Direction 
• (the previous 5 being they provide me) an opportunity to break out into a song and dance number
• Breakfast in the middle of the night (read: bacon)
• My youngest brother being witty and silly
• Photos of things that we will never see again e.g. Global Gutz, Bubble Jug
• My father watching The Price is Right
• Little River Band, Bread, Dan England and John Ford Coley, you get the point
• Hanging out--and just hanging out, no work talk whatsoever--with the prod group

Well, that was a short, pathetic list. I rarely smile lately anyway and I can't really look at Portman's photos and watch Efron's videos all day. I'll try to make one again tomorrow.

I cannot believe people are still talking about this

• Mention the F-word to someone. Even if you don't get an explicit response, you can still deduce their reaction from their gesture. You will almost always notice a shudder or a quick shift of position. People are either afraid to talk about it (people roll their eyes when, you know) or agitated to talk about it with the purpose of debunking it when they do not understand that it is, and always has been, tied up to socio-economics. It's never just about the gender.
• Rape may not have been the main idea of Vice Ganda's joke but defining which-joke-is-what is the least of the things we need to concern ourselves about. It reduced "rape" to something as mundane as a supporting idea to a superficial "fat" joke and that's that. If you don't think rape is wrong and is serious as fuck, you probably also like jokes about The Holocaust then.
• The joke was foul, that is a given. But would it have elicited this much commotion had Jessica Soho not been the subject? Of course not. People are more alarmed that this was done to someone who supposedly sits on a higher moral, intellectual, and admit it, socio-economic ground. Oh, please. We should be clamoring for responsible journalism as much as we are asking for the sanctioning of this type of entertainment.
• This is a battle of the giant networks, that should also be a given. Do I still need to explain this? In any case ABS-CBN admits defeat (which will not happen) and Vice Ganda indeed does get sanctioned for this, what good will that bring then to the fight for gender equality, as clearly, that's what most Jessica Soho defenders are supposedly banking on. You're right, Miss Soho, this is not about you, but the retaliation clearly was not about women liberation either.
• The elite also exists in media if you haven't noticed. This boils down to the use of media as an intellectual state apparatus. Similar to the tug of war of the majority and minority in our political system's national level, we are stuck in the middle of this debacle that neither enlightens the consumers nor engages them in a real democracy. People are only given the chance (or more aptly, the illusion) to comment, bash, and choose their sides but only in their personal spaces. Nobody talks about the real issue in the news. There is no clear and alternative explanation offered except in the tiny spaces within the internet (which will also cease to exist if they pass the Cybercrime Prevention Act into law). 
• The state doesn't like it when people know things. The state doesn't like it when people's opinions are different from what they're taught to believe. The state likes spectacles like this because it takes the attention away from the real problems. The state likes controversies like this because it keeps the people ignorant and on the surface. So why does sexism still exist? Why do the masses vote for someone like Nancy Binay and Bam Aquino? Why do the giant networks air crappy telenovelas that romanticize being oppressed and maltreated? The state condones and perpetuates this type of media--and culture--because it benefits from it, and vice versa. Welcome to the status quo, ladies and gentlemen.
• So-called issues like this will arise and die down much to our amusement and disgust over and over again. There really is nothing we can do about this unless we tear the system down. You get me?

A note to self tonight

Worrying and being frustrated will do you no good. Be at peace. Some things change slowly and some things never, these things would test your patience, but you can always let them go. Know when you're just being a quitter and know when you've been hanging on for too long.

Work hard and concentrate. Know which things you need to focus most of your energy on and which things should receive little or none. Turn negative energy into positive. Be mindful but wise.

dead fish coming through

i had the crazy idea of drinking tons of water thinking it would miraculously wash away the pain.
i also tried meditation
and masturbation
i also tried exercising
playing happy music
even to songs that make you feel important
like "The Final Countdown" and "Eye of the Tiger"
those sorts
i have tried talking to a friend (a little bit)
also tried playing with my siblings
but through all of these i just stared blankly and sat idly

there really is no way but through yourself, huh?

the ungrateful kid

i think i'm about to lose my job.

i care a lot but i can't muster the courage to deal with it
at this point i can't imagine any future
or my brain just don't want to entertain the thought of it. whichever.
i would really rather just... just.
while other people fall into depression without any reason, i always do, there's always a trigger and it's always my fault
maybe i don't have BD and i'm just spiraling down a tangled web I myself weaved
i know i will have to face this problem sooner or later
that is the right thing to do and i would like to believe that i'm still capable of doing the right things
but this is myself talking
and this is myself not doing anything

O

i have been given a choice of fight or flight. i see nothing as the choice i would like to make. i will float through and just be nothing. not live and not even die, just nothing.

i hope i am not indulging but i am also scared that i might be. i don't want to make an excuse. this was all me. this has nothing to do with BD or whatever over-analyzing of self you expect to hear, it's all me.

i wish i could say something. that i've been through a lot and i didn't know what to do, but life wasn't that bad and i did know what to do.

if i would be given another chance of course i would like to do things differently but see, i'm not sure if i would. that's how messed up i am and i'm starting to doubt if that would ever change.

being me means always having to say you're sorry

Why did I even give up on drugs?

i need to be numbed
nothing helps
overwhelmed
and not that kind.
i'm falling or walking
on a vast or narrow, dark or blinding
on what is endless or falls too short
time's at speed or clock not minding.
when i'd rather see nothing at the end and have it
than the glimmer of light that is beckoning
me to come close and embrace
the escape for a while, no more
no more
no more

Lips
the drum beats across the bass
the heartbeat at speed
bump
closer to almost skin
feel without touching
grind
down and up, slide and
fly
almost touching of

Which is it, the beginning or the end?

The transition between the summer and the rainy season brings in mixed feelings: the need to wake up and the urge to sleep in. While I didn't really have a "summer" kind of summer this time, the change in weather still hits as hard as any other year. Because after all, what makes summer "summer" is the weather. Or I can just keep telling myself that.

Days are still relatively hot and humid despite the occasional soft gusts of wind whistling through. The nights carry the very much missed cool breeze that makes stepping out to smoke a stick (or a joint) during witching hour more and more tempting everyday. Like such cheesy lines, the transition of seasons is both welcomed and not. While it signals the good end to a carefree season, the incoming weather brings in another challenge of not getting caught between the sheets of comfort and instead, choosing to get up and catch up on everything you missed being a (messed up) lazy summer bum.

In my case, the transition is equal to the pile of work left undone and the words left unsaid. I'd really rather take this as a cue to play "Dog Days Are Over" while eliminating the backlog one paperwork at a time. All the while I thought summer was my season. But summer of 2013 has taught me that as it turns out, I was just stuck in the highs of 2009, the speed of 2010, the romance of 2011, and the surprises of 2012. All the events of summer 2013 were some of the few things I don't look forward to reminiscing. Plus they all happened within myself and within a radius so short it might as well have been a dream or more aptly, a nightmare.

June 2009 - Went back to school like a rockstar
June 2010 - Was in Aurora for a really big thing I can't really say here
June 2011 - Varekai. VAREKAI.
June 2012 - Went back to the Film side of things

Maybe I should stop relating my life events to the weather, but one's got to look back in history, especially one that lives within a pattern that is yet to be broken. It's pretty clear that an overhaul is going to happen and I am more than ready for it, good or bad. At the moment though, I'll start by taking a long bath. If I'm going down, I might as well go down smelling good.

ARGH

Fuck this. No focus. No motivation.

I need some drugs. Just kidding.

I'm aching for a life revamp. Something new. But I'm always looking for something new. New love, new work, new environment, new highs. If I keep on looking for something new time and again I will forever live la vie boheme. I'm still not sure why that is such a bad thing though. Maybe I should go to that faraway land and hope that I will never get the urge to return. I should learn the good in the steady.

I was being a typical working petite bourgeois keeping passion projects on the side that I could already imagine myself being as boring and common for the rest of my life, but no, I just had to screw it all up.

Drama Aside

I have lost touch with myself. Two months ago, there were three related episodes/elements/events that triggered all of these reflexive posts online and a bit of self-destruction with a lot of self-contemplation offline, and I have just realized that I haven't shaken out of it since. I am looking forward to the day that I will be able to go back to those nasty conversations and write about them with the sensibility and full-grown humor of a proper hindsight. The only thing I need to focus on right now is to not stop moving. I need to get back on track with work and my relationships with people stat, or else I'd be broke, alone, and struggling with a very bad case of depression before I know it (i.e. in a few days time).

I have spent too much time trying to hold myself together that my life has started to fall apart. It took all of Me to try to stay afloat that I have forgotten my Self, and hence failed in trying to make it better.

Hashtag Selfie

I know this feeling. I've been here too many times before. It's the brink. The in-between. The moment of panic seeping in because my mood is about to swing hard and swing far to one of the poles. I'm steadily on my way to the peak of a rollercoaster.

Someone talked to me today, a former comrade. She's bipolar herself and is an active acitivist despite. She is still in treatment and urges me to get in touch with the movement again. Like what she said to me, I also believe that being with a collective would help me a lot but I just can't see that happening right now. I'm such a weakling. It was tempting though, to work far away doing what I love to do. I just can't trust myself yet. Maybe in time. Maybe.

I should stop whining and get a grip of myself. I should take advantage of this hypomania to finish all of the work I've been putting off. No more excuses, I said, then so be it. I'm not being judgmental by saying this, I know what it feels like to be judged, but reading all of the rants of other people about what they're going through made me realize that I need to step up. I was an opinionated, annoying, but very responsible control freak, and I'd like to be like that again, only better.

Too much sugar and I'll go up, too little and I'll go down.

It's a beautiful Saturday morning.

It's been a week without medicine and things are surprisingly steady. I have been unbelievably cool and very together. I lost a huge amount of money on a failed business venture, which means I am broke right now, which also means I will not be able to buy the camera I was saving up for. Somehow though, I have managed not to freak out.

A Saturday after a Friday night out feels like the morning after an awesome sex, even doing the dishes feels like a superhero duty I am more than happy to do.

Look up. It's a vast sky.
It's not there so you can lie on your couch and watch crappy TV.
Move.
Create.
Indulge in cliches.

On Freshman Year, Self-Harm, and the Fight for National Democracy

So, while everyone else is bashing Grace Poe and Nancy Binay, here I am, contemplating about my sick head and its place in society.

I was 16 when I started cutting myself. I also did cut myself once when I was 14 but that wasn't out of sadness or anything, I just felt like doing it, at least that's how I remember it. Anyway, it didn't happen again until I was 16. 

It was my first year in college. I was losing focus in my studies, the daily commute was stressing me out, I spent too much time applying for this certain organization I don't even know why I wanted to be a part of in the first place, there were just too many people everywhere, they were always too loud and always moving too fast, the 493-hectare campus seemed like a wild jungle with its kings and predators and I was this fragile insect. I didn't know what I was doing in college or  what I would do after I've finished it.

The semester was about to end and all I could feel was anxiety and fear. I couldn't bear thinking about the future. I couldn't understand why I was failing myself purposely without intending to. It was confusing. I lost confidence, I wasn't "smart" anymore. But somehow I knew I could do those schoolwork, I knew I could write those papers, review for those exams, but somehow I didn't and I didn't know why. I blamed myself for being lazy. My chest felt heavier everyday. I would cry in bed and not sleep. I didn't cut myself so I could feel pain, I cut myself to escape it.

I struggled my way until the semester ended. I finished the first semester with two INCs, a 3.00 (1.00 is the highest, 5.00 is a failing mark) in Social Sciences (which is very ironic since I love social sciences and I've been reading about great thinkers even before I was allowed to), a 2.00 in PE (wtf), a 1.75 in Communications, and a 1.00 in Math. I aced Math. That's the biggest puzzle. I surrendered on everything else except Math.

Math made me feel better. It was different from all the other classes primarily because the professor was fair, progressive, and a nationalist. As a professor, he was an authority figure by title but he never made us feel inferior. He treated us as his equal. No symbolic violence could be felt in his presence. But my opinion of this professor and his class is related to how I felt at home in the forefront of the struggle for national democracy and is a different story entirely. I haven't realized all of these yet back then. I didn't know yet that it was these characteristics that motivated me to finish his class.

The next semester and summer classes was the same thing all over again. I could remember that I stopped thinking about my "worries" and, in a sense, was snapped back to reality during the PP 1017. I was already a nationalist, I just didn't know how to get involved.

The first semester of the next academic year I found out that I was given a Delinquent status. I wouldn't be allowed to enroll unless I finish my requirements for the INC subjects. I tried my best to. There was no other way. At this point I still cut myself whenever I felt extremely stressed.

I can't remember exactly when I stopped but I know why. I joined the fight for national democracy and I found a purpose. I realized why I must continue living. It was no longer just about me and my internal struggles. It was about the 99% (yes) and their everyday struggles. It was something bigger than finishing college. I dreamed of quitting school and working full-time as an activist. I felt down on some days but I "marched" on, there was no way but forward. Depression would kick in but there was always a better future to look forward to whether or not I realize it at that moment. I would talk to the "comrades" about it, and they would give me strength to keep on going.

But such things could only go on for so long for someone like me. I was consistently active for that year and inconsistently the next. The entire hullabaloo started again when I entered a relationship. My neglect of school dawned on me and I panicked. In addition, I found a new obsession in the form of my partner and everything that surrounded him. My mood disorder was triggered. I started cutting again. I didn't sleep. Some nights I would roam around, walking to nowhere. I drew a lot, which was something I wasn't fond of before. I became negligent of my duties in my academic org where I was holding a position. There was a standoff within the organization between the "reds" and the "non-reds". I took everything personally. I got depressed again. Then I was gone. I stopped school, took a job, and took a pause on being an activist.

I tried going back to school a year later. Went back to being active in the fight again. School lasted only half a semester this time, and being an activist a year. The last time I cut myself was the summer two years ago though I do not remember consciously doing it. Everything is a cycle I can't get out of and at the same time, a tangled web I had weaved.

Now, here I am, a misplaced former activist struggling with her own state of emergency. I'm sure I would have come out a lot worse if it weren't for all the things "the movement" taught me--Dialectical Materialism and Historical Materialism, objectiveness, contradictions, selflessness, and other things no meds or therapy could have given me. Though I might momentarily forget these things and sometimes even question them when I'm having a bad episode, they are already a part of my self, and I will always believe in them deep inside of me, and that's what helps me keep my head together. It's the little inaudible voice that stops me from going amok when I'm manic and prevents me from cutting again when I'm depressed.

I wish I could go back to being tibak, but I am not brave enough to give up the comforts I have now for something I might give up on again in a year or less. If I'm going to do it, I must do it with all of me. If I'm going back to school, I must make it to the finish line this time. 

For now, though, all I could do is help as much as I can in spreading national democracy as the sharpest line and do it the best way I know how--creatively.

Be your own advocate. Serve the people.

The Aftermath

Found these photos sometime ago in my old email.

April 4, 2006. VGA Camera, Nokia 6610.

Taking Control

What's it like to not have thoughts racing in your head? I cannot seem to remember.

I haven't taken any meds in more than 48 hours. I thought I would just quit. I thought I would stop going to the doctor, stop taking medication, and everything would just go back to normal. At least the normal for me. I would be back to being the unsuccessful undergrad who does everything and nothing alternately, she struggled everyday and hurt herself on some days but at least people loved her, or at least that's what she thought. Even so, I would give anything in the world for that.

Now I'm back to the void. I don't know where I stand in this world. I can't stand to be like this, I can't stand to be like that. If I'm going to keep avoiding each and every stressor, I wouldn't become anything.

Not taking meds have taken me back up, I guess. But I still feel empty. I want to do a lot of things. I want to get drunk, get wasted, and know what it feels to be alive, again.

I am tired of being a zombie, of being a victim of my own self, if there's any more "self" left in me to begin with.

I like this state, I like feeling. I like not dissecting my mood. It is just what it is and I make the most out of it. It is only then that I become a human being. Or I'm just overreacting. Nevertheless, not paying any attention to "it" would mean that there isn't going to be any way for me to make it an excuse. From hereon out, I will no longer tell anyone else, unless absolutely necessary.

Because my doctor was right. It might not be just the mood that has caused the recent events, it might have been largely me. My decision-making and my fucked-up personality. I may or may not have thought of "this" as an excuse to do what I felt like doing. Nevertheless, that's not going to happen again. Whatever happens from this day forward is just me, no mood disorder involved. I will take accountability for everything. I am no longer in treatment. I am taking control.

Burning Bridges

Yesterday, when I went to my pdoc I expected to tell her a very long anecdote on all the events she missed since I last took a visit. But of course I was only able to tell not even a fourth of a story. I told her the gist, the titles of each chapter, the lines out of context. She gave me a speech about how I should get more control, make healthier choices, and get a better lifestyle. She emphasized on taking care of my relationships with others, I shouldn't act on something just because I had the impulse to. She said that "this" is not an excuse and I should check if maybe there are also "personality factors" involved. That I wouldn't want to burn bridges with people close to me and have no one in the future.

I was pissed off at first. If there's anything I have always been scared of was "this" would become an excuse. I'd like to think I'm afraid of that more than anybody. And I have always wanted to think that I've been doing great despite "this". Maybe not so great, but hey, the last few weeks have been some of the worst weeks of my life and I'm still here. I still have a job, I'm not "living the summer", I haven't had sex with a stranger.

Truth is, I know what she means. I may still be here but my relationship with other people have been crumbling. Maybe it is more about being tactless, proud, and selfish than having bipolar disorder. Maybe I am the problem. Maybe it is time for an attitude check. Maybe I am really not capable of human relationships because I'm impossible, unlovable, and self-righteous. I am never satisfied and always disappointed with other people.

Even I would want to burn the bridge between myself.

Last Nite

What's the point of living when you are not even allowed to be yourself?

The things that these meds do to us. We eventually lose our "self" while it is replaced by something that everybody thinks is "better" because it fits what is "normal".

I'll write more about this later. Right now, I'm too tired.

Crashing

I am tired of mania. I've been like this for almost two weeks. I actually thought that I was having a pretty normal mood today until my father and I had a big fight because of my stupid mouth. I couldn't control my temper, I was shaking and was about to cry when we were only debating about politics.

Now I am just disappointed with myself. Fuck this. Nothing's going right lately. I am hopeless.

Admission

For the first time, I told someone today that I nearly got myself killed (techinically, tried to kill myself) last Thursday. I don't think I should have told her. I do trust her, but I don't think she understands. I know I should accept that not everyone would understand and that sometimes they would say the wrong things, but sometimes I just don't like hearing the wrong things.

I will just have to remind myself that they only mean well and if I feel that they don't understand, I should properly inform them about BD and what it's like to have it.

Well, good luck.

Do You Know?

Boring people bore me. Now's the best time to go to an amusement park. SOMEBODY!

A Follow-Up on Iron Man 3: Not a Review

I have written about what I think and, more importantly, how I feel about Iron Man 3. But what I realized, a short moment after I published the post was it wasn't so much as Guy Pearce's character, Aldrich Killian, that gave the film its flaws. It was, on the bigger picture, the tug-of-war between the Shane Black storytelling and the Marvel formula. The supervillain is the most obvious, but not the only, victim of this ambiguity. Shane Black is a brilliant director but he had to make Ironman 3 within the confines of the superhero genre, particularly Marvel. So the film feels a little bit confused and arbitrary in this regard. It's a beautiful psycho-realistic film one moment and then a cliched superhero movie the next. Personally, I would have preferred Shane Black to have had taken full control of the steering wheel.

Nevertheless, Iron Man 3 is still both a gem to behold in today's film industry and one of the best rollercoaster rides I've ever been on. An example of what entertainment should be, fun but not brainless. Other moviemakers should learn from it.

Throw-up Thursday Part 2

(The Bad Parts)

She couldn't take it anymore. "Punch me!," he said. She punched him. "Good! Hit me! Hit me more!" Confused, angry, and frustrated, she hit him. She punched him, again and again. Exhausted, she stopped. He shouted at her, hurt her with his words, provoked her. She begged him to stop, sobbing and shouting. She couldn't take it anymore. It went on  for a while, him shouting, her punching him, kicking him to the ground, hitting the wall, shouting and crying. She felt angry, hurt, helpless. She was in so much pain inside but there was nothing she could do but cry and yell and hope that something would make it all stop. Then she heard something coming. She knew what she wanted. She ran straight and fast toward the source of the sound. He ran after her. She saw the headlights turning the corner, she ran faster. He caught up and pulled her away right before she collided with the truck. She cried again.

Shaking

I hate my ex. I hate him from the core of his heart up to the tips of his hair. But I still hang out with him. We still sleep together, do things together, and can't spend a day without seeing each other.

I want to quit. But, there's the quintessential question--how?
I am tired of getting hurt over and over again. And I am tired of being pushed to the brink of both mania and depression.
He loves my friends. I hate his friends.
He adores my family. I abhor his family.
He's not good for me and I'm not good for him.

I wish for the will to stay away from him. So be it.

Throw-up Thursday Part 1

The Good Parts

On Thursday, I was supposed to see my doctor. But I didn't have money so I had our appointment postponed. Welcome to the Third World.

In the evening, I met with my bestfriend because she was leaving for Europe the next day. I missed her so much and I regret not making the effort to see her the past weeks. But I had also been a big mess, so there's that.

I dragged C to a gig in the South where an old friend was playing. It was a good night, nothing eventful, just good company and a chill ambiance, except for one funny moment.

Earlier in the evening, my bestfriend was teasing me on how I reminded her of Zooey Deschanel (particularly her character in the New Girl) and it escapes her understanding why I do not like the actress. Jesse and I are both socially awkward and a total klutz, she says. I couldn't think of anything to snap back at her at the time except to tell her that again, I do not like Zooey Deschanel.

Later that night, at the gig, I was trying to be poised and all. It is also worth noting that I was wearing a dress. But because this is me, I can only try, and try in vain. I still walked, sat, talked, and moved definitely not like a lady by society's definition.

At one point, when C and I decided to go to the bar to get a beer, I passed by this guy friend of mine (a puppy love who I haven't seen in 10 years), he was deep in conversation with someone. I tried to catch his attention, very slyly. I gave him a quick pat on the arm when I passed by him, which I thought was very cool of me. He gave me a nod and a "Hey." then went back talking to his friend. I was suave, I thought. Then I fell. I didn't notice the step in front of me. I fell and yelled "Fucker!" I was back on my feet when he turned around. He was like, "What happened?" The friend he was having a conversation with answered, "She fell." I smiled quite awkwardly and walked towards the bar. I waited for C very anxiously but he never came, so I had to go back to the table and ask him what's taking him so long. Then I walked towards the bar again, passing by them again.

Things like this only happen to me.

---

Throw-up Thursday Part 2, The Bad Parts soon.

I want to die again and again a hundred times over.

Straight and Fast

Dear World,

I nearly got myself killed today.

It was a long day.

There was an attempt to get an ID.
I dyed my hair burgundy.
I went to a gig in a faraway place.
We fought on the way home.
Then it happened.

How could I have even done such a thing?

Only one answer: straight and fast.

Love,
Me

Damn.

But no matter how hard I try to do the self-pity thing, fact remains my libido is still way up there. Must. Take. Control. Until. Mania. Ends.

BTW,

I've been hanging out with my ex again and yes, we have sex. I feel guilty because I know that this is going to lead us both nowhere. I just don't want to think about it right now. Because, again, I feel like I can handle anything. Which next week's depressive episode will probably prove me otherwise.

Oh, well. At least for now, hakuna matata.

View Blog

I've been manic lately (obviously, if you follow my posts). My self-confidence was at its peak, sex drive was bursting out of the thermometer, and superhero and superego tendencies were worse than it ever was.

Just now, I took a moment to look at myself at the mirror. I'm very average-looking, I'm too thin, I have chicken legs, knobby knees, no hips,and a non-existent ass, and I've got a horrible smile because of my braces.

Now I think,
What a horrible point of view to have while being manic.

Running in my head

i grabbed the knife and shoved it down
the throat of the little thing
i spliced its chest and pulled the heart
out of the lifeless piece of meat

really frustrated and mad. i don't even want to take my meds today. i want to allow myself to drop everything and do stupid things.

Tony Stark Triggered My Mania: Not a Review

I watched Ironman 3 today. I usually check Rotten Tomatoes after seeing a film. Not this time though.

Yes, I'm taking Ironman 3 personally. Yes, I find the feelings of the movie more compelling than the nitty-gritty stuff other people would probably be raving about. I'm not doing that, because with Ironman films, it's a given: they're all good--great, actually--technically and story-wise. Perfect action scene choreography, stunning visual effects, witty dialogues, and so on and so forth.

It goes without saying that Ironman 3 was better than its predecessors in a lot of ways. As expected, it was darker and more mature. Usually, this works. In this case, it worked perfectly. It was no longer a brainlessly entertaining, technically superb action movie. This one's a work of art. It was more grounded in reality vis-a-vis its superhero-movie counterparts. It had an attempt to be socially critical. I'm not sure if that was intentional or if it was just to make a good plot. (With Hollywood films, you never know--with "Hollywood" being the operative word. Case in point, The Hunger Games.) Nevertheless, it did the movie and the entire humanity a favor.

The film started out establishing Tony Stark's weaknesses. That he was after all, like all of us, human. It wasn't like in the first two installments where his character was designed to purposely invite idolatry (like all superheroes) in spite and including his decadence and other negative virtues. In this film, Tony Stark's character and emotions were vulnerably exposed in a very precise and brilliant storytelling (straightforward but not overly dramatic, unlike the the portrayal of Bruce Wayne, Peter Parker, Clark Kent--you get the idea.) Notable was his battle with trauma and anxiety over what happened in New York. Most of us have had to deal with something like this, and like all of us, he was scared to deal with it and the stigma that comes with it. We are, after all, including the great Tony Stark, subjective beings. The movie was filled with scenes and layers reflective of this and although they were not hard to miss, they were very subtle, tightly told, and never excessive.

Having said that, the main protagonist in this movie was Tony Stark, not Ironman.

Now, the problem, in so many ways--Aldrich Killian. We all get the character. He's both stereotypical and not. We've seen him before. Only this time, there's that political spin. He was the good-guy-gone-bad type of villain, except he happened to take advantage of the current global issues with "terrorism". In real life though, it's not the regular guy. It's the people who are actually seated in power who commit these types of crimes. It was a good spin to the story, that much I can say. Anonymity and the power it gives to a person is a very timely concept to tackle. His character could have been more established though. Really, a fan who had his heart broken by his "idol" who stood him up? That just sounds like Syndrome in The Incredibles. Killian was just so typical that the portrayal of Guy Pearce was so bland his were the only boring scenes of the movie. Because we all knew what he was going to say, we could predict what he was going to do. He was the only one who made an attempt to explain why he's doing the things he's doing. Duh. Fine, he was smart, but not cunning. He lacks the charm of a villain. He's not even that much hate-able, he was just there, a villain performing his villainous duties. This exactly is his human factor, though told poorly.

Pepper Potts was something else though. First off, you must know how much I have always hated the character of Mary Jane. She's the pretty girl the awkward boy bagged because he was nice. Her only role was too be sad, complain about her life, and be rescued. We all know the damsel in distress trope runs rampant and can be found in almost every superhero story. Then there's the shallow Black Widow portrayal of Scarlett Johannson whose sole purpose was too be a beautiful foreign girl who kicks ass. On the other hand, there's the hero's female servant who was just there to provide support and sometimes information and words of wisdom (e.g. Moira MacTaggert in X-Men: First Class). And in comes Pepper Potts, a strong, powerful, and confident female character, with all her charm and brains.She stands her ground and has never regarded Tony Stark as her hero. In this movie, she herself was a hero. A very humble, grounded, and humane hero.

What hits hard in the story is the relationship of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. It was too real that we never expected something like it to be found in a superhero movie. We usually see these kinds of romantic relationship and emotional struggles in films that are actually dedicated to romantic relationships and emotional struggles. I don't want to spoil the ending but it was so epic (yes, I'm using the word epic) I cried.

After everything, I cannot classify Ironman as a superhero movie anymore. Sure it was, if you want to be technical. But it was also much more than that. It was even much more than most films we've seen lately.

---

EDIT: A follow-up here.

Tony Stark Triggered My Mania

I'm being manic again so I asked C for a valium.

Okay, I started typing this about an hour ago. Now I'm too "sabaw" to even type.

That was a fast depressive episode.

I'm back up again. This is not good. Fuckity fucky fuck.

Wow

I'm sad and restless. Wow.

Sad because I feel like my life is shit and I'm not worth shit. I know this is the depression talking and would probably be looking back in a week's time wondering why I ever thought this. But right now, everything just feels like shit, turd. poop.

I am restless of this "production team". I am becoming impatient and I'm not even doing anything to speed things up. I wish I find the will to do this again, the trust for my workmates, and the faith that all the hard work is going to be worth it.

---

Truthfully? I hate people who brag. Being proud is one thing, but actual bragging, without being humorous of course, is just one of those things I can't stand. Well, I guess I do have virtues. Now that I think about it, I do believe in the Desiderata, and try to live by it as much as I can (when I'm not being a stupid maniac). It's my very own "EXCELSIOR".

---

I feel guilty because it seems to me that I'm indulging in my sadness. The last thing I want is for people to think that I'm using my mood disorder as an excuse. So I must remember to be my own advocate [cue feel-good song]

Spare me the stress

I had no intention of telling you. Because I don't want to get stressed about something not worth it. I wanted to tell you last night so you could say sorry and I could forget about it in the morning. I didn't.  I told you today. So instead  of the apology I was hoping for you wanted to explain that you didn't do anything wrong.

I guess nothing has really changed between us.

I shouldn't have told you. We were happy being label-less and without-definition. I could have easily passed off something like that because there's no "relationship" to be salvaged in the first place. I am not even sad anymore, knowing that we would never be happy together together. I'm just sad that we can't even be happy while being "label-less" together.

My words aren't worth anything though. We both know I'm using you. I shouldn't be one to talk. That's why I wasn't even mad. You were just supposed to say you're sorry, and we both would have moved on. But you didn't, so we didn't. And here we are, stuck between heaven and hell.

---

This best summarizes our entire four-year relationship:

Good morning, haring araw.

I told myself I'm skipping summer. I wanted to spend less because I wanted to get that camera by June. But is it worth it? Who does that? Who skips summer?

Suddenly I find myself wishing I was somewhere else. Somewhere far. Somewhere not here.

I miss summer. Summer's my time, my season, my thing. I am summer personified. I am the morning's pink, yellow, orange and the night's blue, black, and red. I am the scorching sun piercing your skin. I am the sunflowers along the University Avenue. I am the endless nights of getting wasted. I am the rambutan falling from the tree. I am the waves that wash ashore. I am the sweet escape. I am not forever but I'm the one you never forget.

Soundtrack of My Life

I was listening to this and man, I developed a whole new feeling of attachment towards the song. Goosebumbs. Goosebumps all throughout the song and beyond. (Note to self: Must create new playlist)

Not in the mood to write

I drank every night from Thursday last week to last Sunday. I wasn't supposed to do that. But mania got ahead of me. It was poor judgment. Saturday night (4/20) was fun though. For once I chose not to go out where there's "something happening". I just went out and danced with a few good friends. That's my kind of trip now.

Sunday, I went out with an online friend. How I regret that now. He was just visiting and it was his last day in the country before he goes back to New York so I thought it would be nice to show him around a bit before he goes. I went home sick to my stomach and vomiting. I had been feeling nauseous because of my upped dosage of lithium, and topping that with drinking on an empty stomach, let's just say I'm lucky nothing worse happened.

Friday until Sunday I think I was starting to get out of mania and as much as I hate the nausea, it helped keep me on a leash. Because I literally couldn't move a lot.

Monday my mood was starting to come down, and yesterday was a very emotional day for me. Today I'm feeling better. I'd like to say stable, albeit the constant sleepiness. My doctor increased the dosage of my mood-stabilizer-to-prevent-depression pill yesterday. I hope this would prevent me from crashing into a depressive episode. As of now I'm actually in a really good mood.

---

I have decided to live through the saying, "Be your own advocate."

From now on I will try my best to make sound judgments and will not let my mood dictate my manners (hard as that may be). I will stay away from alcohol and drugs (except weed, duh). I will always be professional and have good work ethics. I will work hard for everything and do everything to be productive even when I'm not feeling up to it. I will watch my spending (!!!) and really start to get things sorted.

I really do want to get better, you know.

A really, really bad case of headache.

...............................................................................................................

What is this mood!

I'm not sure if my mania is coming down or I'm just having a mixed mood. I might be on the brink of another depressive episode and I don't want to go there yettt.  Well, anyway, I find it easier to control my depressive mood anyway rather than my mania. But nooo, there's still so much to do. :(

I had to go out Thursday night because we had an event and as expected, I didn't handle my mood very well. I skipped dinner, therefore also skipping lithium. Got drunk. Puked twice. Fought with one of my closest friends. Went on a ranting spree with another one. That's when I decided to take my lithium despite my empty stomach.

I lost my bag on the same night, which contained a notebook, my cellphone, a shirt, and all my meds, among other things. I brought my meds because I was expecting that I would spend the night at my friends' house. Now I have to ask for a prescription for my clonazepam again. And I would have to explain to my doctor that I was drunk that's why I lost them. Ugh.

Then I lost my wallet yesterday. I KNOW. I am so fucked up. I went to the Toe concert last night and it was awesome. But truth is, during the first half of the show I was really into it but then got really distracted after that. I couldn't focus and thoughts were racing in my head. I was hungry and thirsty and I wanted to get out of there but I also didn't want to miss the show. I'm glad I stuck around. It was worth it.

I haven't taken lamotrigine for three days and maybe that's what's causing my mood today. But I also feel still riled up and annoyed with the world, but not as energetic and high.

Well, as I'm typing this I just shouted at my 9-year old brother because he was being a bully. I know I shouldn't have snapped at him. So I guess mania hasn't come down yet. I feel really, really bad inside though. My chest feels so heavy.

I have to cool my head. I need some smokes! It's 4/20 after all. ;)

Four Years Lost

I just want to write this all down before I take my "calming pill".

I should have listened to my gut four years ago and gave up on that relationship as early as then. This much I can say now: I should have listened to my friends.

Two years ago should have been enough indication that all of this would end badly. If I didn't had the change to end it four years ago, two years ago was my second chance. I tried to. To no avail. I still ended up running back to him. I don't even want to remember that year. It was the shittiest. Sometimes I think that my mood disorder would not have gotten this worse if it weren't for that relationship. Yes, I really do think so.

At present, my friends opinion of him still has not changed. They are still telling me to stay away from him. I know that they're right. He's more destructive than helpful to my well-being. The graver effects are not worth the momentary feelings of happiness. I just didn't (and still don't) know what to do about it.

I don't expect people to empathize with me, given the stigma and all. I don't give a fuck if they're there in times of distress or whatever. But when I told him that I had a bipolar disorder I was hoping to get a little empathy, a bit of concern. I didn't receive any. He hasn't even as much as Google the thing. And I know this for sure because I know him that much.

Now I can't get those four years back. I have to live with this disorder that is now worse than ever. And I have to live with it alone.

Some life.

I think too much

I'd like to go on a ranting spree about my personal life but I'll postpone that for now. Maybe I would go out after all. Or maybe not. Man, I don't know.

I'm known for standing up people all the time but I want to change that. Problem is, I also know it wouldn't be healthy to go out. WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Are the meds working?

My night is ruined.

I was supposed to go out. I have plotted tonight in my calendar weeks back. Now I don't think it would be a good idea to go. My ex has just been here in our house. It didn't do anything but just aggravate my already uncontrollable mood.

I am trying to level my emotions and gauging if I can do something to reverse the situation. Good thing I am still able to control myself. Other days I would just go out and get wasted. But insight and acceptance is important. I have accepted my illness and I want to get better. I keep telling myself this but right now all I really want to do is go out, drink some and then a lot.

MANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN.

Insomnimania

I don't want to go to sleep yet. I really don't. There are so many things I want to do. I want to take advantage of all my excess energy to create something. But I have to remind myself that in order to get better I must make healthy choices. Staying up all night will only make my mania worse. Oh, bother. So, yep, I'm taking that thing, and will let it do what it does and lull me to sleep.

When I thought I was getting better

I was feeling very intense again today. Good thing I had an appointment set with my doctor. I went with my mother. I would have had it otherwise but my doctor insisted that I bring her with me. And because I trust my doctor and I really do want to get better, I obliged.

The day started well. I was in a good mood. Too good to be true actually. I started to doubt my mood because mornings like that usually do not end well. And right I was. I was speeding myself through work after work that I skipped lunch and then realized that I was late for my appointment so my mom and I hurried our way to my doctor. We were on our way when I started to get really irritated. There were too many people. The weather was too hot. And I actually shouted at someone who stepped on my foot on the train. I tried to calm myself down really bad. I was feeling really agitated I thought my chest would burst.

Of course I told my doctor about today's mood. My lithium dosage was upped and was given a new medication to help me get to sleep. I really hope this works.

I was supposed to go to QC because it's a close friend's birthday but decided against it. My doctor also advised that I skip it. So I texted my "best friend" that I couldn't go. I finally told her that I have bipolar disorder. She couldn't believe it at first and later on, I guess when she finally got over it, she told me that she's a little mad that I have been avoiding talking to her. I would have told her I was sorry except that I wasn't really feeling up to that kind of conversation.

My ex and I are working on some projects together so I have no choice but to talk to him time after time. When I was talking to him on the phone this afternoon, he got agitated. I was asking for updates and I was trying really hard to calm myself down so that my mood is not heard over the phone. But when he sounded irritated while talking to me, it really pissed me off. Here I was, trying my best to control my mood and he didn't seem to even care about that.

Then he called again tonight to ask about something he should already know the answer to. I wanted to throw my phone on the wall.

a;slkfh398yt2io4gh398jthge98wjtljgdfiohjsdiog

Man, I hate this mood.

Monday Fail

I'm doing a Facebook page analysis for work and I don't know where to start.

I had a mild anxiety attack earlier today, by the way. My doctor advised that I discontinue escitalopram as it might have been causing the anxiety.

Had a vivid dream again last night. I was grinding my teeth again.

I really should go to bed now.

I hope things magically become better in the morning.

Right.

Only Bipolar Owl understands.

Harvey Specter

I just spent the whole weekend watching Suits and instead of feeling guilty that I didn't get to do any real work, I'm happy. I'm relieved that I finally get to enjoy little things like this again.

I still get ticked off but they're not as bad and it has only happened twice since Thursday. I dreamt last night, it wasn't as exhausting as the usual but I was grinding my teeth again.

Now I just have to find my momentum again and work harder than I have ever had, because it all comes down to me now, no more extra energy from the mania.

New meds #2

There's a bit of anxiety. But my sleep the past two nights have been really deep, without any dreams.

Mania yesterday started to seep in at around 8:30 in the evening. Instantly felt relaxed after I took meds.

I just have to monitor this anxiety. I'm not sure if it's anxiety or it's just the mood overpowering the meds.

And man, friends make me anxious. I'm so stressed with the thought of having to maintain relationships with people. At this moment, I'd really rather be alone.

New meds

I feel weird. It's like my whole body is being tickled from the inside. I feel good but at the same time I feel like laughing at everything but at the same time it's different from the feeling of being high on weed.

A little bit of humor goes a long way

I handed my mom a pamphlet about bipolar disorder that my doctor gave to me.

She read aloud, "Two Sides of Self-Identity."

Then an awkward silence...

We burst out laughing.

Good times.

Scenarios

I was thinking about bipolar disorder and how it does not define a person. I thought about the different reactions that different people might have. This is all for fun, of course. :D

Doctor: It seems to me that you have a bipolar disorder.
Patient: Tell me something I don't know.

Doctor: It seems to me that you have a bipolar disorder.
Patient: Can I have something cooler? Can I, can I? Pretty, pretty please?

Doctor: It seems to me that you have a bipolar disorder.
Patient: God, I can't wait to tell Takumi andl the Colonel.*

Doctor: It seems to me that you have a bipolar disorder.
Patient: *starts sobbing*

Doctor: It seems to me that you have a bipolar disorder.
Patient: I don't think so.

Doctor: It seems to me that you have a bipolar disorder.
Patient: A-ha! I won!

Doctor: It seems to me that you have a bipolar disorder.
Patient: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!

Doctor: It seems to me that you have a bipolar disorder.
Patient: That is the best worst best worst best worst news.

Doctor: It seems to me that you have a bipolar disorder.
Patient: *thinks about a  hundred other scenarios*
--

*A Looking for Alaska reference. Takumi and the Colonel are Alaska's bestfriends.

Brochure

Bipolar disorder is a lifelong, recurrent illness. But there are various ways in which you can still lead a full life. Some suggessti... Bipolar ... lifelong, recurrent illness ... Bi..po..lar ... disorder ... a lifelong ... illness ... recurrent illness ... LIFELONG ... RECURRENT ... a l..i..f.....e.....long....rec...urre...nt... lifelong.... recur...ren...t...ill.n..e..s...s...

So tired

Man, I'm so tired. Each part of my body aches.

My manic state's getting worse.

Man.

Not Helping

Goddammit, may ex is an insensitive bastard.

I don't know how it happened but for some fucking reason he and my bestfriend saw each other last night and he told my bestfriend why we broke up. He told her this in front of someone we also know. I don't know what he said and it doesn't even matter what he said but WHO DOES THAT?

Am I not even allowed to mourn this shit through?

Are people always going to come up to me saying that my ex told them about what happened and blah and blah?

Why wouldn't he just focus on his own fucking problems than feeling the need to buzz people up all the time looking for someone to drink with, smoke with, and talk with?

As if telling me that I'm over reacting would help. Really. When did that kind of attitude help with any situation?

I wish people in the world would stop talking for a fucking while and start listening.

Crushed

I'm a mess. And no, fuck no, it's not going to be okay.

A Snack Shack realization

Stories about hustling weed. taking shrooms, and visiting locked up friends. These are the things I don't want hearing everyday for the rest of my life. It was a good reminder that there's no room for thinking twice, I'm on the right  track, I just need to move on a steadier pace. How do you get out of the labyrinth again? That's right, straight and fast.

In case you do not get it, that's a "vague" right there. Okay, Imma shut up now.

Morning music is my bestfriend, cheering me on.

Mood: stressed, freaking out, ready to give up

Physical status: has a head-splitting migraine, nauseous, sleep-deprived

Emotional status: all over the place

Mind: perfect, creative, and objective

Today's going to be a long day and I need to get my mood sorted and get a better grip of myself.

I can do this. You know why? Because I'm awesome.

You can do it!

Tiis-tiis, ipon-ipon. No eating out, no movie houses, no buying of any gadgets. Commute everyday, work harder, skip summer. You'll get there, baby, you'll get there.

On another note

I seriously need to get my laptop's keyboard fixed. I can't work on the desktop for hours on end without air-conditioning. This heat is a killer!

A creative block would be a very lucky problem to have

I don't want to work, I just want to make mixtapes all day. And for some reason I want to do some Photoshopping. Should I just waste all this energy to work when I can actually create something beautiful at this very moment? Oh, woe is the Petty B.

Maybe everything we want so badly is worth the wait

I tend to be very technical/mechanical when watching films on a normal day so sometimes when I'm watching a movie for the first time, after a few minutes in I decide on whether or not it is meant to be watched at that particular space-time. Usually I decide on this for the movies that I feel I would like very much. And when I say "like very much", I mean the following: life influence, catharsis, fandom, feelings. The chosen ones are saved for some other time. That perfect time. Sometimes it happens weeks or months after, sometimes even years, sometimes never. And sometimes I get it right.

Tonight I decided to watch Moonrise Kingdom, which I downloaded so many months ago. I just knew that it was what I wanted to watch and that tonight was the best time to get the most out of the experience. Boy, was I right. I wouldn't even review the film. It's too important for that. I'll probably over-analyze it one of these days anyway, but not tonight.

In case anybody's reading this, don't even look at the photos below if you haven't seen the movie yet. It will spoil too much for you. Heed my words. (I even refuse to use uploaded screencaps because they are filtered. Handpicked and screencapped these from my own player.)

Yay to false hopes and dreams that would never come true

I was browsing through Tumblr when I realized, yeah, why would I no longer want to see the world? So, just maybe, I want to chase after those impossible dreams again.

And maybe I'd like to see snow melt outside my window too, at least before I die.

Well, just maybe.

These Things

When does Hatred end, I wonder? At what point? Whenever you get mad at someone, does it just crossfade to The Life After? Simultaneously, Hatred fades out very slowly, The Life After fades in very slowly. Or does it sit there in the dark corner with its bright eyes, watching your every move, waiting for the perfect time to pounce?

Told you today would be a different story

I'm forcing myself to get out of the house this afternoon and will also try to go jogging tomorrow. IN THIS HEAT. (I wake up at around 3 or 4am nowadays anyway so I'll be done before the sun comes up.)

I just have to do these things for my sake.

“At some point, you just pull off the Band-Aid, and it hurts, but then it's over and you're relieved.” ― John Green, Looking for Alaska

What music does to me

Today, at this very moment, I feel like I am ready to forgive. We don't know what tomorrow holds though, but I'm betting it would be an entirely different feeling.

I was feeling better

We know that when one starts to blog in bullet points it means that she has nothing good to share. With that being said...

From the good down to the not-so-bad:

• As part of my Better Well-Being Project, I slept for at least 12 hours straight. Woke up feeling re-energized and better. 
• Mixtapes I uploaded are trending.  Although I don't think I'm too happy with the last one. I should have taken more time making it.
• So many people roll they eyes on Vampire Weekend, but I am a proud fan. And this song has been giving me the good vibes for the last few days:.




The above song uses a (hook) line from:




Both the above songs use elements from:


Ain't music a cool thing? Ugh, too bad nobody reads this shit.
• The Voice Season 4 has been very amusing so far. It hits my cheap-entertainment-and-crappy-pop-culture bone right in the middle. I have never been this entertained by a talent show since... ever, I think.
• I'm feeling optimistic because it's less than a week away from something. I'm sure I can hold on until then.
• My dream was hella weird. Video-game-slash-thriller-movie weird.
• Too many mixtapes, books, and movies, so little time.
• I wonder why talking to people eventually leads to my annoyance. I should just give up conversations altogether.

Dreaming while half-asleep = half-daydreaming?

I woke up to the theme song of Nickelodeon's Victorious which my brothers were watching. I was never a fan of the show but hearing the song made me feel good. I was still half-asleep and the thought of getting up has not yet crossed my mind. I was lying in my bed when I thought, not a bad song to wake up to. Quite inspiring. I suddenly want to chase after my dreams. Then I remembered, inspired to do what? Chase after what dreams?

...

....

..

.....

.

...

Then I got up. 

Well, that was depressing. Ha ha! Cheerio.

Vulnerability

One vague post coming right up!

I like being strong. I have always had to be strong. I am the cold, conservative, unapproachable girl to some. Yes, I am one of those who rarely opens up herself. Yes, you may roll your eyes. In the rare event that I do open up myself to someone, it fucks me up almost every time. Because I can't handle the feeling of someone knowing that much about me then not being on my side when shit boils down. If you offer yourself to be my friend, then a friend you must be. If I feel otherwise even for just a little bit, I will most likely push you away. And I can't even help it. I hate the feeling of vulnerability as much as I hate the feeling of betrayal. They are one and the same to me.

The cold-hearted bitch might just be back soon. For now you must allow me to mourn.

Responsibilities

I do feel that I have been carrying the weight for too long. Everybody's got an excuse. Why was I never allowed to have my own?

So, I'm out.

Well, for now, at least.

It's/I'm getting worse everyday

I don't know what's getting worse everyday--it or I. 

I can't find the will to live, to actually live. I just want to exist and keep existing until the day I no longer.

Because maybe, there is no way out. Thousands of years upon thousands of years, people, prophets, philosophers, geniuses, have contemplated the way out, but maybe there's no answer to that. Even acceptance is not a way out. Even forgiveness is not a way out. Maybe even revolution is not a way out.

Holy Summer Morning Camolies!

MY FACEBOOK ACCOUNT IS BACK UP. I CANNOT EVEN. This is a relief. All those information and messages... whew. I can rest now.

Ms. Storyteller

So my Facebook account was blocked by their system, right? I tried to access my old Facebook account so I could tell my family and friends that I'll be inactive for a while until Facebook chooses to reactivate my new account again.

There's also this local advocacy group who help people undergoing emotional distress and they have a Facebook fan page so I thought of sending them a message there just to let me know that Hey, I'm still alive. I haven't killed myself yet. Okay, that's not funny, but, when I saw their page it was all hate posts about some phony person who invaded and "disturbed" their group creating fake stories and such. And how did they come to the conclusion that this person was not real? Because her Facebook disappeared. Has Facebook come to be the "proof of life" these days?

And I tell you, there are more. Okay, I'm thankful that they listened to me at first, but now,  I don't see how they can help me if they judged "Ms. Storyteller"  just because Facebook blocked her, she who sincerely asked for help with all good intentions,

As I am calm now, well, at least, compared to when I first found out about what they wrote about "Ms. Storyteller," I'd like to think I understand. These are people who have gone through so much in their lives and have been judged by so many and I can relate, so to have someone play a joke on you would be really inhumane. But that wasn't Ms. Storyteller's intention, she was being honest. And now hurt.

So I sent them a message saying that I'm real and the girl who opened up to them was real. But, I guess it just all ends there. I can't be part of their group anymore, they wouldn't let me back in and I don't want to either. I'm not even sure they believe that I'm real now.

There is not much to say about this. I couldn't imagine being in a group like that. Simply, a lesson has been learned, I should be more careful next time. There are just some groups that you won't fit into and you're better off outside it.