Drop Me Like a Hot Potato

You meet someone cute at a friend's party.
You share small talks.
He tells you about his life.
You do the same.
You both laugh at someone who's too drunk.
He stops laughing and gets up to help the person.
And you tell yourself, "Well, he's not so bad."
He asks for your number.
You blush and give it to him.
He goes back to his friends.
You go back to yours.
You finally decide to go home.
He waves you goodbye.
You smile and wave back.
You get in your friend's car.
And tell her about this guy.
You laugh and get all giddy inside.
You get home.
And wait for his message.
You receive it.
You reply.
And he replies.
And you reply.
And he does.
After the 999, 999th text, he asks you out.
You say yes.
You both go on a date.
You dress up.
He does too.
You have a great time.
He drives you home.
And kisses you.
You both go on your second date.
You dress up.
He does too.
You have a great time.
He drives you home.
And kisses you.
You both go on your third date.
You dress up.
You have a great time.
He drives you home.
And kisses you.
You both go on your fourth date.
You dress up.
Only you have a great time.
He drives you home.
And kisses you.
You both go on your fifth date.
You dress up.
Only you have a great time.
He walks you to the cab station.
And kisses you.
You both go on your sixth date.
You dress up.
Only you have a great time. You get a cab.
He's with his friends.
You both go on your seventh date.
You dress up.
Nothing happens.
He forgot about your date.
No one kisses you.
And it's back to scene one.
You him at a friend's party.
He shares small talks.
With another girl.
They laugh.
You're pissed.


Guess what, honey? You've been dropped like a hot potato.

Understanding Nirvana

I will be turning twenty in a few months. Now that I am reaching the end of my 'teenage years', I have finally understood what Nirvana meant, what 'Teen Spirit' smells like.

I haven't been the best student this semester and I admit that. I lost track of my 'goody-old-Miss-Organized' self but honestly, I don't regret anything. I don't regret missing a few of my classes. I don't regret coming home late almost every night. I don't regret all the little white lies I told people just to get myself in a good time, because I am truly sorry for them and being the good Catholic that I am, I already confessed that. I don't regret all the nights intended for making homework and requirements I wasted to just go out and share a good laugh with new friends. And I don't regret knowing what 'Teen spirit' smells like.

So what does it smell like, really?

Teenage Spirit is the smell of:
- Sweat of different people in a moshpit in the middle of the gig of your favorite band
- Coffee while listening to your best friend's worst break-up story
- Cigarette that sticks on your hair (I don't smoke, but some of my friends do so yeah)
- Traces of liquor in your breath
- Hot instant noodles to get you out of a hangover
- The mixture of cigarette and beer when you enter a private karaoke room or a club
- Vomit
- A dirty bathroom
- Rain
- Hot chocolate, another option to get you out of a hangover
- Loose change
- Blood after getting your ears pierced
- The perfume you wear only when you are seeing your boyfriend (or pretend boyfriend)
- Newly-opened chips
- Your pillow after waking up to a night of endless crying
- Random people inside the jeepney because you don't have a car
- Your dog because sometimes, he's the only one who listens to you
- New books
- Your hair burning from all the ironing
- Hot instant noodles again because you're too lazy to cook 'real food'
- Your crush's perfume
- Make-up
- Sweat socks because at a point, you would swear to jog everyday but you know that's never really going to happen
- Newspaper because it's the closest you can get to being an adult
- Milk Tea. It's better than coffee.
- Rust of the guitar strings while you are trying to learn a new song but you're not patient so you just give up
- Garbage because you will remember that you're not supposed to throw your embarrassing quiz paper since it will be a part of your final compilation requirement
- New clothes because you use your allowance to shop

So far, this what I think 'teenage spirit' smells like for me. What does it smell like for you?

Shady's Back, Tell a Friend

If you have been reading my blog posts, you'll see the countless times I have apologized to you, my non-existing readers for not being able to update this page. And for the nth time, I'm sorry!

I'm not going to bombard this post with the reasons for my absence 'cause I will just probably bore you but you should know that I am now serious on making this page as updated as possible. I do not know why I'm telling you this but I just want to. Just because.

Wish me luck! ♥

Let Go

Note:
Let Go is one of the short stories I wrote and published for The Star, our school's literary magazine. This is nothing personal. It's just a story I had in my mind. Thank you! :)

“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m good,” she says.

They know she is not okay. She knows they do. And she wonders why she always has to state the obvious, why she always has to answer and why she has to lie. She hates being asked that question. Not because she knows those questions are asked out of habit but because she is reminded of what has happened.

It was not her fault. It was not her fault that her father had to ask her to go fishing with him when she could have just gone out to the mall with her friends. It was not her fault that she had to freak out every time her father tried to teach her how to hook a worm to the bait. It was not her fault they caught the biggest fish she had ever laid eyes on her entire life. It was not her fault she almost fell off the boat. It was not her fault they had a good time. It was not her fault that she felt like a child again in his arms that day. It was not her fault that they had to go home late that day. And it was not her fault that her father had to look at her and tell her he loved her before seeing a big truck hit the car. It was not her fault that her father lost control and lost his life. And it was not her fault that only she survived.

It has been six years yet she still lies. She has let go and accepted her loss but being “okay” somehow makes her feel guilty. She knows it was not her fault but she blames herself. Every night, the last scene she has had with her father comes alive. “Should have, would have, and could have,” bombarded her thoughts. But she knows she can not do anything about it. And she knows she can not live like this forever.

She wants to be okay and she is pretty certain her father wants the same thing for her. She has sworn to herself that she will be okay. And she will be believable. She will be strong. She will smile and she will not lie.

“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m good,” she says with smile.

Countless Wants, One Need

I am tired of being stagnated. It's like waking up to the same bleak, black-and-white world where I am forced to do the same things everyday, as if they were all scheduled. I am restricted to think outside the box, which scares me because sooner or later, I might just be kicked out of the stagnating world and move over to the deteriorating world, which is worse. Worst.

I want to embrace change. I want to try new things. I want to stop dwelling under my shell. I want to go out and see the world out there and enjoy what's in store for me. I want to be free and I want to be happy. And with "happy", I mean making others happy as well. I want to motivate people, help them realize their dreams and push them to make these dreams come true. I want them to be inspirations to others. I want people to also see how embracing change would make things a lot better. I want a better world. A world we can be proud of.


I want to stop living under the notion of the "stagnating" and "deteriorating".

Admit it. These "wants" are your "wants" too.

Let's make things happen.

I need you.

On Being a Theresian

I am a Theresian.

Before you start with the judging, let me clear things out for you; we are not just hair-flipping, English-speaking pretty faces.

Just because some Theresians did stupid things doesn't make all of us stupid.

Unless you're a Theresian yourself, don't act like you know us and you've gone through the same phases of the transformative education we're blessed to have.

So, please. Just shut up and do the world a favor.

Thank you!

Words from A Broken-hearted Spoiled Brat

They say, "You'll never know what you have until it's gone." Well, I say that you always knew what you had, you just never thought you'd lose it.

Did you ever get that feeling of being "chased"? No, not by a cop or a swarm of bees. But being chased by someone. Someone who loves you sincerely. Someone who is willing to win a war just to be with you. Someone who constantly reminds you how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have found you. And most importantly, someone whom you thought would wait for you forever.

Trust me, all girls love that feeling. At least, I know I do. I love it so much that I like being "chased" for a very long time. When given flowers and chocolates, I put on my "I-couldn't-care-less" face, knowing that this would challenge him to try harder. When asked about how I feel or where this "thing" is going, I simply say, "I don't know yet." Even if I know I have feelings for that someone already, I deny those feelings and still won't give him a hint so I could continue enjoying my selfishness. Sometimes I even just push him away and tell him to give up 'cause I don't think he's the one for me simply because I am certain that he won't leave and even if he does leave, he'll always come back. I was so happy being spoiled --- not knowing that people also get weary. And this weariness may cause them to stop, just stop. Not because they love you less, but because they've had enough.

And that's when it hit me. It's over. He's gone.
What did I do?

No matter how crumbled I felt, my pride told me, "No harm done. Just smile and pretend that it didn't hurt you. You never told him about how you felt, anyway. You still won."

So I smiled and carried on with my life, like nothing ever happened. This went on for months. And I was okay. Well, I thought I was.

I never thought that it would be very painful to see the one you love, love someone else. You see him at his happiest and you force yourself to smile and just be happy for him --- for them. But you can't. You can't smile. It's too hard. Why am I feeling this way when this is exactly what I wanted, for him to go away? I should just let him be happy and I'm happy with that.

But I'm not. Not at all. Every time I think about him and what we've had, I'm bombarded with should have's, could have's and would have's. All the times we've spent together is on repeat in my mind and I just can't press the stop button because I like what I'm seeing.

Now? Not anymore. It's different now. What I'm seeing is a happy guy who finally found a girl he doesn't have to stress on. A girl who treats him right and is proud to call him "hers". A girl who loves him dearly. And, a girl who could have been me.

But sadly, she's not me. I had my chance but I blew it. I was too stunned with the idea of this "chase" that I forgot about my feelings and how real they were. Every bit of me yearns to do something that could possibly get you back but everybody knows that would be unfair. I can't be selfish again. I can't stop you from being happy. I already did that once and I won't do it again.

I guess what I can do now is just ignore my feelings and drown myself in chocolates and busy myself with shopping, things I consider therapeutic. I just have to move on and be happy. Not for them, but for myself. :)

xoxo,
B ♥