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.

Oh, wow. Lovely.

So now that I have calmed down a little, I will tell you a story. A story of how my Facebook got deactivated last night. I don't know how it happened. It kept logging out by itself the entire night until at one point I couldn't log back in. I used their mobile verification method, not that they presented any other option either. This is the only way, the system sneeringly whispered to my head. So I entered my mobile number and had their system send a verification code to my phone. Eons passed and no verification code was received by my neolithic mobile. So I did the process all over again. And again. And again. Until they wouldn't allow me to anymore. I have lovingly exceeded the number of times their system could text me. Because it was too much of a hassle to their delicate system, I imagine.

Of course, lo and behold, I eventually received the verification code. One message after the other, spamming my precious inbox memory.

It was this whole promenade that triggered last night's episode.The details of which I will just leave to your imagination. That is the story of how I lost my one-week old Facebook account. Thank you.

Oh. Also, I just realized right before I wrote this blog post that the contact information of the three psychiatrists that I was referred to was in there, in my Facebook messages inbox. What can I say, I find it easier to send Facebook messages impulsively than call a landline number and then have to write all the info down. Luckily--or unluckily (I cannot decide which.)--as part of this big cosmic joke, I vaguely remembered a name in my mind. I searched it in Google, and alas, it was indeed a name of a psychiatrist. So somehow the back of my head decided by itself to store it in there.

Which makes me arrive to the next posed problem, I only have 3500 left in my life. Yes, that's all the money I have right now. (I am very generous and I let people borrow my money a lot so do not ask where's the rest. And in case you're worrying about my health, I stocked up food to last me an apocalypse.) Considering how I lived the year before, if you would take time to sift through my past letters, dear, I would have considered 3500 a fortune then. But now I have the option of going to that psychiatrist whose name my brain chose to not forget or spending that last money for a weekend of relaxation. Life is full of trickery, with this one not being a far off exception. I am given the choice of relaxing but not getting better or getting better but staying vexed--at least until I receive my sum of pure capitalist goodness next week which I can then use for buying medication. A lot of things happen when a crazy mind is allowed to wander far, wide, and limitless, so if I do choose to attend the weekend's thing-a-ma-jig then I would be taking a great risk and should, even this early on, already accept the consequences of what is yet to happen.

But, my love, there is no way to win this fight, so I surrender to my room's air-conditioning, with my arms spread wide, and shall sleep these thoughts off until the horrors of this life choose to awaken me again from my beautiful slumber. Up until then... To call or not to call, that is not even a question.