Just so you know.

I have an exam tomorrow.

To which, this exam therefore, I need to acquire about 90%.

I'm worried.

Not for passing's sake, but for the fact that I'm not worried about it. At all.

I've been spending this free day, lying around and taking long doses of sleep, watching DVDs, reading manga, writing things absolutely unrelated to school - stuff I do during weekends.

Not that it actually matters.

I find that the things I do, doesn't matter to society.

Like, hell, I DON'T think I matter anyway.

I'll keep this brief.

I don't think I'll be sleeping any time soon.

I have to memorize minerals. And study for this exam.

Really.

4 November entry.

Maybe i'm a masochist.
Even though my tears are falling,
I feel like laughing.
Out loud.
even though my back is aching,
I yearn for the pain to return over and over again.
Do you think knives hurt?
Do you think amputation does more?
Do you think pleasures are pure fun?
Or do yo think I'm going crazy?
Like, uncaring whether I'll get a few scratches or that I'll faint.
Like, doing things as an act of rebellion but it's like I'm rebelling against myself.
No.
Yes.
Which is it?

The worst thing after a storm is the embarassment you'll have to face after everything has been done.
I don't blame them.
It's eternally my fault.
Yes, I don't blame them.
Rather, it's giving me a happy feeling.
Because they gave me something to cry about.
I've been trying really hard.

I don't care if I'm hated.
I've made that clear quite enough right now.
I don't care if they think I'm all high and mighty.
This is the only place I can think of where I can be myself.
Where I could readily excape at this reality.
Where I am not the docile and kindhearted person people often thought off.
It's a lie when I said that I don't want to be hated.
It may be for a little while before I could go out and start pushing people away.
The rate that's going on,
I'd say, it'll not be long enough before I can be alone.
I mean, I don't really push my friends away.
I just don't take care of them.
Like, how they treat me anyways.

Then maybe I should smile when I plan of suicide.
And laugh when I execute them.

On Privacy and the way of things.

My family's big on Asian series.

That's why for the past few days, we've been living practically like zombies.

With all the 'just one episode more' crap.

I mean, it's totally cool if once in a while we do that.

But please, get a life.

It isn't cool to compare yourself to your own child over your obsession with current Korean series.

Sure, it's about the same when we, the supposedly teenagers, get gaga over things like live action series, anime series or manga serializations.

The point being here, what we do does not bother anyone.

Not physically, its your problem if you want to give a grief over what we do or whether we get sleepless nights because whatever happens anyway, I NEVER get to be listened.

My life is like this.

Since I was little, I wished for my own room.

Maybe now, I get the reality that it'll never come true no matter what happens.

I'm not even hoping for it.

Even a miracle.

No, because somehow, I adapted to the nomadic kind of living.

Whenever they sleep late, I sleep later.

Whenever they don't sleep, whatever's another sleepless night.

I don't give a grief about what they do.

But I do mind the things they say.

I don't mind getting scolded for being addicted to sorts of things that renders me sleepless.

But I do mind if they did that to my face while exploiting my privacy rights.

Makes sense?

I don't think so.

Topic shift.

Not really.

I love the night.

I love the darkness, the cold.

The stars and the cold heavy silence.

Especially the rainy nights.

Why?

Because that's where I get a taste of the so-called privacy.

Maybe it's something insignificant to some people.

But that is what actually keeps my sanity intact.

I'm not mad.

It's just sad to think that the people closest to you are the ones who could LEAST understand you.

Or rather, the ones that were so narrow minded and takes you for granted.

The very ones who are the first to break your heart.

Like hell, would I be comforted where I felt heartache the most.

What feels like writing.

This semester sucks.

My schedule sucks. My final grades suck.

And my whole entirety is a clutter of failures.

Wonderful.

So, it's like this:

I just couldn't care less if I fail ALL of my subjects,

but I couldn't help feeling ashamed (that the right word? I don't think so).

Not that my PARENTS could actually do something about my crummy brain or my weird study habits.

Especially my dad, I always felt like I was pushed to take this course.

Yeah, hell, I could BLAME them.

Even though it's what HE's enthusiastic about, it's still MY OWN DECISION.

Like, I LOVE being a masochist.

So there, I 'fessed up.

Like hell would I choose this if I wasn't THAT prepared for, say, THESE:

(1) Staying up late doing schoolworks.

(2) Staying up late satisfying my vices.

(3) Staying up late thinking about exams.

(4) Staying up late repeating the same mantra: This sucks.

(5) Staying up late just for the heck of it.

What. The. Fucking. Hell.

The Fear.

I have a fear of heights.

Maybe my fear wasn't THAT intense, it's all in the mind and I'm WAY too much minding it.

Maybe I just wanted to have something to fear about when people ask me about my fears.

I mean, I could still bear with it whenever I stand beside the railings of a fourth floor building or near an edge of somewhere very high up ground.

Although, yeah, I'll admit, my legs feel tingly and sometimes I feel like I'll throw up, but the fear is somewhat irrational.

I could probably get it over with after many attempts to pursue the top of Mt. Everest.

In my dreams maybe, but that's not the point.

The point is, THAT fear is something that one could be easily outgrow or overcome.

(The thing that I'm actually driving at here, at this point, are my fears. If it wasn't so obvious.)

I fear memory loss.

Like, I'll wake up one morning with no memory at all.

Or that I'l wake up and everybody I knew forgot about me.

Not that I knew THAT many of a people. I'm what people know as an "introvert",

Okay, sometimes a dork, a nerd, a social recluse, nutcase, in other words - I'm trying my best to become invisible at the same time wanting to fit-in in the popular crowd.

I hate the attention (it's a lie, I'm sorry I can't admit that OUT LOUD), I just wanted to have whatever I say to matter. Like, to be not treated as a joke. Because all my life has been nothing but a joke. It's dull, it's not exciting, it's BORING and I'm really bored living in it. But that's just another story. so whatever.

Crazy people scares the hell out of me.

I remember one time,

I was riding on a jeepney on my way home to my uncle's house.

At that time, I was living on my uncle's house because the university that I'm attending to is in the province - WAY too far away from home in the city.

So anyway, it was late. And very dark (So unlike living in the city, where THAT time would've been BRIGHTER and more PEOPLE).

In that particular vehicle were a handful of passengers.

Me, some others and this one guy who was muttering to himself. Darkly. Somewhat evil things sputtering out of his mouth. Scary things.

And it didn't help that he had shaven hair which kinda makes him look like a serious mental case.

That was when I realized this fear.

I wasn't like any other girls who gets disgusted with flying insects or writhing worms.

Although, maggots in general, utterly disgusts me and I wouldn't mind if they go endangered, or extinct. (But that would make corpses/carcasses, like, decomposition would probably take a SERIOUSLY long time to be complete. Heck, it'll be like, they'll decompose as long as how long they have lived. Ew.)

Anyway, I don't mind flying roaches (just as long as they don't linger in my skin THAT much), I could touch/hold earthworms in my palm, rats disgust me but I don't go screaming about it like THOSE girls.

I feel that I'm much more reserved (kidding aside), or at least, I'm still having difficulties expressing myself.

Like hell, I'm straying too far from my point.

Fuck.

It's not that I ran out of words to say.

Laziness gets into me, once in a while.

(Lily Allen actually has a song of the same title. But this ones a BLOG POST, get it?)

My Math class - the failure

I'm supposed to be studying for a mathematics finals for tomorrow,

but knowing the fact that I failed 2 long exams out of three

kind of gave me the notion that I'll fail it anyhow.

Isn't it just like a coward? Giving up when the war hasn't even started.

But Honestly...

I don't fucking care.

That's right, I wrote that right. DAMN RIGHT, I might add.

It's not that I don't care about my studies,

or the money my parents are pooling just so I could, I don't know, STUDY, perhaps.

I care about that, A LOT.

Specially that money part. I don't personally enjoy being a burden.

Or being totally dependent on other people.

Because people who are TOO dependent are the ones who get hurt ALL the TIME they get rejected.

The thing about failing this class, gives a better opportunity on improving my grade.

I don't want to be that loser who got a grade of 3 for all her math class.

Heck, I don't even want to see a grade of 3 in my transcript.

The more I see them the more I regret my decision which I was ever so denying that I'm all over it.

I AM SO NOT!

So right,

I also thought about the reason for that matter - like, failing this class.

Since I was kid, I was so IN LOVE with math, that is, until I got introduced to Calculus.

I first failed already it some while back, because I didn't really understood it.

And so, I moved on from my first scratch on the knee - my first 5 in my whole college life.

Me, who never get a grade lower than 2.75 got a grade of 5.

(after that, a series of 3 follows - my life suck)

Right now, it's the third and final math that I had to take and suddenly I had to go and FAIL it.

Maybe math wouldn't let me leave.

I sure could blame it on Chemistry, which chooses the same date to have an exam with my math class.

Which I had to prioritize.

My desire to leave Chemistry was greater than my desire to leave math.

But I still despise math more, that's weird I know...

Maybe I'm actually a masochist!

Maybe it's true then: "THE MORE YOU HATE, THE MORE YOU LOVE.

October 10 rant

I've got an exam tomorrow.

This exam which I have to have at least a minimum of 22 points

to earn a grade of 3.

Easy?

Fuck you.

It's TOMORROW, that's what.

I haven't studied yet.

Did i ever told you that I hate final exams?

it's very very annoying.

You know, like you've studied for the past 3 exams then you'd have to cram it again in your brain

just so you could pass the freaking subject you wouldn't even remember after you graduate.

That's how unfair life is.

aside from THAT exam,

I'm also a bit problematic about money at the moment.

Hell, I'd say I WON'T care,

but, fuck, I can't go to school, duh of course I need to CARE about it.

I want to live a carefree life.

That's why as much as possible I don't want to meddle in my family's financial problems.

A bit selfish of me.

Oh yeah, guess what?

I DON'T FUCKING CARE. -- what i'll call as the 'selfish' rant

This morning when I woke up,

I felt panic because of that exam I was talking about earlier.

Then I felt annoyed because my *** kept telling us last night that (pronoun insert)'s broke

please, can't you, like, i don't know, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT?

Aren't YOU the parent?

(insert 'selfish' rant)

Then I began thinking about suicides just so I'll have an excuse in case I have to miss the exams tomorrow

because we don't have enough money (correction: we DON'T have any money) to send me to school.

Like, a bus fare perhaps.

So there, suicides.

I have my reasons, no matter how shallow they are, they're still reasons.

(1) Boredom. I don't think there's a need to elaborate.

But in summary: NOTHING'S EVER HAPPENING

(2) School. Stressed about exams. Stressed about pressure.

Stressed aout wrong choices. I'm. Utterly. miserable.

(3) Social network. ppff. As if I had ANY.

Okay, maybe I do. But then, why do I still feel empty.

(4) Home. the primary reason for anybody's lame attempt to, i don't know, stray from the cycle?

Like they say, home is where everything is.

Well, screw them, who told that fucking LIE?

Why does it seem that the primary source of my depression starts at home.

I don't know, every time we had a recession, I feel annoyed evertime I'm home.

But then, people aren't just satisfied.

People are selfish

(insert 'selfish' rant)

maybe that's why.

I'm not hesitant to talk of suicide as if it was what I chose from the menu.

Yeah, suicide is a choice.

everything else is, anyway.

People just think that if they are trapped in a corner, they don't have a choice.

Well, they can always choose the cowardly choice: escape.

Escape = suicide.

If ever the time comes that I became extremely bored with, like, living in hell with those helluva fucking problems

I'll go suicide.

When that time comes, here's what I'm gonna say:

People, I won't say sorry because it's gonna sound as if i'll regret my decision.

How can you even regret a decision when you're dead. Think with me here.

The usual question would be: WHY?

If ever you'd read this, I don't think I'll have to include everything here,

I've clearly elaborated THAT much, ya think?

So there, go on living, I'm not that important for you to cry your eyes out or stop with your boring routines

I'm just a lost soul (yes i'm kind of lost - i don't have any place in this world)

If you're going to do that anyways, it's your choice, it's not as if I'll care what you do with YOUR life.

It's your life after all,

if you're going to WASTE it like I did with mine,

I'll see you in hell, we'll be co-workers with the devil.

So here's my last two words: THANK YOU

After all that suicidal crap,

here's another irrelevant and totally out of the topic rant:

I hate the carefree attitude my *** has,

every freaking time (pronoun insert) tells us, we're broke.

No, (pronoun insert)'s freaking broke.

It just so happens that we're the leeches who feeds on (pronoun insert) money.

I hate going home seeing (pronoun insert) sleeping with the laptop's close.

I hate having (pronoun insert) sleep early.

Not that I'm a sadist who loves people suffering.

Frankly, i thought my *** looks far happier if (pronoun insert)'s WORK busy - if you get my drift.

Deep emotions

So the title often tells it all.

I'm lying on my stomach, typing on the freaking laptop, paranoid about the slightest sound on my parent's bedroom, listening to classical music - stuff I usually do when it's almost 3am in the morning.

I'm a bit insomniac as you could probably tell.

Maybe because I think too much.

Reasons?

(1) I'm a goner.

I have at least 16 units load in college, yet I'm actually on the verge of failing my 12 units of it.

I should have taken only what I can chew.

The scary thing about it, was that I couldn't really care less.

I can't study for that one chance I have in order to pass that subject.

Just so you know, I HATE final exams.

It's pretty stupid to study all the things you learned just so you could pass.

I don't even think I need those information, WHY can't I remember it then?

I know I'm being selfish, but that's just what this world is about right?

We were born to die, that very fact makes me want to puke.

Because we were so not born so that we could die someday,

I believe that we were born to prove the stupid assholes who thought about that 'being born is all about dying crap' wrong.

So there, my point being - why do all these things just so one could graduate, do a decent job, then just die on it.

I don't really get society.

(2) My ever so untitled emotion.

Just as some untitled works I did, I did just for the heck of escaping the stupid reality we humans were unfortunate enough to actually live in.

Everytime, I always wish for something to ACTUALLY happen.

I hate it when I realize that half my life's probably gone and here I was sitting in a dimly lit classroom endowed with the aura of suicide while having nosebleeds on a math exam mathematician freaks probably made up to impress/intimidate stupid people - that's just how sick this world is, and that's just how I came to hate math.

My world came crashing when I failed it, when I was madly in-love with it for sometime.

Yeah, so the emotion here has something to do with boredom with life.

(3) My infatuation for someone.

I ALWAYS get infatuated - something which was probably from a frustration.

For one, I'm nearing the end of my teen years. Shoot me now.

For another, I never had any romantic experiences.

Well, no I lied, I almost had one anyway, but things never worked out. I moved on before anything can actually happen.

Enough said.

(4) My hidden angst to my most important people.

Here's what I wanted to scream at their face:

"I don't want to get into your fucking problems, hell, I don't EVEN want to know about it. So don't go threatening me that I won't be able to go to school and then expect me to understand. I do, it's just that I don't want to acknowledge it. Would I actually listen to you? I always do, you just never notice. Oh yeah, you were too BUSY finding funds for OUR expenses. I love you, but I can't stand how you treat me - you just NEVER LISTEN do you?"

(5) Friends.

Why do they make me feel like I'm stupid? Oh yeah, probably because ALL of them are so freaking smart. Suddenly, I couldn't care less if I'm socially deprived. What the Hell, I can't even tell them problems because it makes me sound stupid whining about how depressing life seems to be at home.

Well, that's mostly what I've been feeling for the past

I don't want to talk about it, just READ.

Then, don't go quoting me on this one.

I am, you are.

When you say that it’s all very easy,

it’s because you have more experiences.

Don’t compare me with the things that you’ve done,

we’re not the same.

I am me, you are you.

I am not you.

We don’t live with the same rules

and the law doessn’t apply to both of us.

You live by the clock, routines and machines

I break from them, living without any care

I hate the routines, crash all machines

then write my own rules, print my own destiny.

Your world is a neat checkered tiles of black and white,

while i ripped off the trails of light,

painting my world pitch black.

You are you, I am I

You are not I.

A jumble of thoughts

hunt is like a game

an enigma

of codes and games

hurt is like a hunt

paradise

for the sadistic

heaven

for masochism

Lies lost among

strange heaps

needles and pins and straws

it's a silver

safety pin

bloodied and rustied straightened beyond

repair

this is what we do,

what we live

what prevents us from

futile forces

the never-ending

cycle of drug abuse

the endless use of knives

and pains

and the sickening

color of blood

and the metallic stench

running with water like

yin and yang.

this is it,

our prime purpose in life.

Peaceful times

Close your eyes and

Forget. . .

About every

fucking

thing.

Studying Physics

A stack of notes.

Post-its

and the steady beat

of alternative rock.

bottomless drinks,

unlimited caffeine

chips as such

keeping up, keeping awake

Slowly,

the eyelid fell,

drooping.

Slender necks easy to break

until with a snap

it came crashing

like broken rod.

Untitled

Once more let me pull the switch,

turning the wheels back

at a constant pace.

How long has it since then?

When rust knows not how to exist.

Turning back,

Turning with an unseen force.

The impact of my wish seems to grant

the invisible beings

pulling the strings.

Payment upon request.

In life, all is well when

piece is changed with another piece.

And when the puzzle fits

like Jigsaw a frame.

Can't let go, this chain wrapped upon.

This is the deal,

the manual for turning back time.

In exchange for this precious wish.

In exchange for a moment of truth.

This is when,

we should have died

instead of signing a pact,

a contract of no return.

Untitled

Bored with everything I see,

classified, unidentified,

the beautiful, the ugly, the kind.

Which color do I bin,

this trash I kept within.

Do I repent, do I reflect

these sins tattooed upon my back

Sweet lips, coating like honeyed milk

clinging, untainted,

the words burning flesh.

Through the haze,

Through the maze,

searching for the looking glass

if I could just jump through it

without any thought.

Then I shattered, I broke

I reached my limit,

it's time to leave my coat.

Shedding light, shedding in the dark

Stripped naked, encased in a dark shelf

where my bare skin is in contact with no eyes.

Just Yet

Don't go

I need someone to talk to

The things I'm bursting to say

The thoughts I fee l hard to relieve

Like butter flies swarming

And a ball hard to swallow

Don't go

Not yet anyway,

Until I get my daily dose of medication

Or until the clock strikes twelve

Stay, at least until the night ends

I never realized

I kept commanding

Why do you have to go anyway

Here is where you have to stay

Beside me, besides me

The reasons that'll hold you back

Makes a hundred days

Of clearing the scroll

Hear me out, don't go away,

Away from me.

This is where here I am.

So yeah,

Do I have to go over it again

These things I need not say

Until this thirst's finally quenched

Don't go just yet

I just realized

I kept demanding

Am I keeping you from drifting away?

Here is where you have to stay

Beside me, besides me

The reasons that'll hold you back

Makes a hundred days

Of clearing the scroll

Hear me out, don't go away,

Away from me.

This is where here I am.

So don't hold back,

Let it go

I won't let you go… just yet.

Life and Dreams

Everyday, I wonder why

This contains my whole life

A simple shape

This bottle case

Every morning I come and rise

Do these things I couldn't leave

My head is spinning and I can't think straight

What can I say, it's real life.

I can't change, I can't leave

I can't take off, naked without a trace.

But, whoa, it's my life, it's my time

I can sit back and close the lid

Shut away everything till they fly far

Away from me.

And, oh, when my music starts playing

I couldn't help but to come along

Spin round and round

And sleep 'till eternity.

Now I see, then goodbye

This whole mess I can't clean up

A simple word,

That sweeps it up

I can go, anywhere, anytime

Clothes off, running proud

Then, whoa, this life is mine

I can throw things and still be me

Whoa, this time's mine

I can do those things and still be free

Make a mess

And pull up a face

Say what I want

And, oh, this music may never stop

I couldn't help but to wish

Don't stop, don't stop

Go round until eternity.

Still, the music fades away

And it kills to wake after the night…

Gives back this hopeless life.