Sorry

Rut isn't how I would want to put it (because that would be an understatement)...

But yeah. I was in a major rut lately. Did I just say major? Yeah. Well...

And I just want to say sorry to everyone that I've wronged these past couple of months... my mom and dad maybe. No. My mom and and dad. I'm so sorry for being the horrible person that I am. I should be ashamed for not being ashamed of what I've been doing. You guys already might have had the slightest idea of what actions or non-actions it is. But what you know wasn't even the half of it.

I was in a major rut.

Someday I may open about it. Maybe with some beer and time... when I'm looking back at all the stupid things I've been doing in my careless days and the actions I could have done to correct it.

Maybe, then, well as if it's not funny now, that I'm going to find humor in it.

And normally, I wouldn't do this, but I would also ask apology to everyone, in one way or another, I have directly or indirectly alienated. I don't have to present a list, do I?

But I'm going to own up to what I did, said or perhaps wrote about you people. I'm not going to defend myself. I wronged you and I'm sorry.

To myself, dude, I'm sorry for being the person that I am. It's not going to be all fun ride I tell you. I always have this habit of destroying myself. And I am bound to be hated. I will always be saying things other people wish they could.

And I'd be always, like, "well shit happens". But just because I'm always spiraling down, doesn't mean I like it. Maybe I do, but sometimes, I wish it were different.

Nah.

Okay, maybe I don't at times. Hey it's not like I can do anything about it. Again, sorry, I can. Yeah I CAN. But you do know I'm such a sloth and Satan's spawn right?

God did I just argue with myself?Hahaha.

If I were to be born again into this world, I'd pick to be myself in a heartbeat.

Or not.Ha

But bottomline is, Im sorry. I'm really, really sorry.

I don't say it that often, but when I do, I really mean it.

Linger.

And there she was writing about some guy...

when I could have been the one she was writing about.

I'm not jealous. I'm not. But a part of me still lingers on the what-could-have-beens...

Had it been different, had it been not the same as what had transpired, would she have written something about me the way she she had written about this guy?

Would she? Would she? I guess we'll never know.

plan b

“I think I know y I faild. Destiny bai. D lng ko ktel. Cnfdntialty clause. Pero lyflong dream na gyud nko ni. Pwd n ko mamatay. Kng dli madaun I H8 LYF N GYUD.”

-My text.

And I’m hoping it’s destiny. Really hoping. I did not fail just to take semester off and work in a fastfood chain. Hotel, maybe. Radio, definitely… but that is if I’m planning to stay in Valencia, which is as of press time, quite unlikely since I’ve made up my mind that I want to be independent more than ever. Especially now that I have plans to do backpacking in Siquijor. I’m going to raise the necessary funds to finance my adventure of a lifetime. My own version of Che’s Motorcycle Diaries…

But all that are just backup. I have a destiny to pursue. I’m going to make sure that I’m going to get it no matter what. I’m built for greater things. I don’t have plans to be a commonplace. I am going to make a commotion.

And PS, that confidentiality clause I’m talking about, the other party is… myself. I really don’t want to broadcast it right now. I might jinx my chances.

“W0i.. Bai, d0nt take it 2 hard.. Ni agi jp0n ko ana na phase, and there are still m0re phases to c0me.. Jst keep ur head up nd decide f0r wats best..”

-Rob

12-04-2008, 23:01:49

> My friend’s reply. I’m sure he thought I was at my manic phase again. ROTFLOL. =D

to the left

“Brokenheartd ku.. Huhu.. Wla pjud direction akng lyf..”

-Danica

14-04-2008, 11:27:30

The 1^st part wasn’t really a shocker. She says that all time. Because almost immediately after, I see her with her boyfriend looking like love birds.

But when the message read that she doesn’t have any direction whatsoever, I couldn’t be more empathetic. I know how that feels.

Cryptic.

everydy, i smile

&

act like nothng’s

wr0ng…

dat’s wat I call,

putting evrythng

aside & simply

being strong

..I’m not

insensitive,

I just don’t care..

-james Hahaha..s0 u!

leanne’s text

18-Mar-28

23:11:59

People have no idea on what is going on .crytic. To everyone. To my friends. Not even my parents have the slightest idea. I break things alone. I fix things alone. I may get help along the way, but at a minimum level. Then I break down again, feeling all alone and lonely, but that’s just the way it is. I don’t think I’m ever gonna be happy. I don’t think marijuana and trancy music would ever make me numb- maybe for a while, before the novelty wears off. Then I’m back to my old self again, loving and loathing himself simultaneously.

i didn't keep count of how may times i've punctured myself that night, but the marks on my arm and tummy slightly scared me the folowing morning.
i felt a mixture of excitement and wanting to pull back the day so i won't have to do my rd that soon. i was just not prepared to die, or get somebody killed by inexpertly administering parenteral medicaton. yeah, it's irrational to fear 1 cc of distilled water in your skin, but i was concerned about the intramuscular administration. the needle didn't look small at all, and i was nervous about my partner getting nervous! if he doesn't get it right the first time, i'd have to go through the damned skin test again, the subcu, and the IM. so that night, aside from trying impress my sister, i took the 10 cc syringe (the only sterile syringe i had left), and rehearsed my rd, only with most of the infecton control left to be suppositions.

it was late afternoon yesterday, when three of my friends failed to remember i was waiting for them to pick me up from my bhauz. for more than an hour, i heard the karaoke singing from the other side of the street, while i sat on the bench by the door. i looked up, and the sun was already leaving the sky. soon it would be dark. a few black birds flew across, and i was compelled to take my pen as the moment took over me.




by adlr

sama sa langgam nga naglupadlupad,
anha naglibot-libot sa kalangitan
maayo sa panlantaw
ug di na mulabaw
sa damgo nga kini makab-ot;

sama niining hapuna
musangpit kadyut,
ug dili magdugay
nahibalo ko nga
mawagtang sa pag-usab
ang gugma
nga ginahinaut kong makaptan
hangtud sa hangtud;

dili matugkad sa panultihon
ang pagkahiubos ko
nga ikaw sama sa kalayo
nga gahatag ug kainit
apan
kanus-a pa man
dili gayud mahimo nga gakson;

ang kasing-kasing kong
napasakitan
magpadayon sa pagpangita
ug ikapuli sa tunghaan
nga
nahawan
sa imong pagbiya;

apan wala ko masayod
kung may makita pa ..

completely

-taken from postsecret.blogspot.com

need i say more?

So how do you feel about it?

I finally sought help. Not from alcohol or weeds but some from pro. I'm talking about the counselor. After almost chickening out on that hallowed day, the encounter finally did happen. He was so good at what he does, did reverse psychology, that he made me admit that I was such a faker, control freak, manipulative, hypocrite brat who whines when things don't go as planned. All them haters would've danced for joy. Then he made me say "I love myself" with some assurance that I shouldn't be guilty about it. That didn't made me narcissist, he assured. I just need to love myself- and not keep track of crap. Period.

Post-Davao Round up.

I wore black going to Davao. felt the needed to. I was also the last person to step off the bus. Funny, because I worked my ass so much even if it meant taking for granted everything but when harvest came, the fruits felt pointless.
For 2 weeks, I goofed around just to convince myself that I everything was bearable. But that can only do so much. Certain things still bothered me. I still had those dreaded moments. had insomnia. took a bath 4-5 times a day. badly needed alcohol.
Then I broke down. People thought Davao was fun and I did too, until I realized that for the whole duration of my stay the only time I had fun was when me and my roomies had a singing session and the weekend breather. I’m not even sure if I liked it there. I don’t know. Breaking down felt better.