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New Year, new me. Not so simple when you really think about it. I like myself now, I really do. It makes me laugh as I read my 100 words entries from two years ago. And then I realize how young I was back then. Now I'm 18 and the two years have shaped me into what I am now. Still the same reckless, rebellious, outgoing teenager. But also now I am a more responsible, more mature kind of person. Then I think about all I had to undergo in those two years. And I smile. I'm proud of myself.
Three days until I see you again. Three days until I can jump into your arms once again. Three days until I can sleep with you being the last thing I see in the night and the first I see in the morning. Two weeks without you were not like what I imagined--I missed you too much, cheesy as it sounds. You, who made me fall in love again. You, who I now seek comfort from. You, who never fails to make me smile even when I'm tired and haggard. What a long three days this is gonna be.
Last December, I realized I missed writing. That's why I promised to do 100words again. Plus, I started blogging again, in the blog I neglected two years ago. It's funny. When I was younger, I really thought I was born to write. I wrote and wrote and my whole word revolved around me wanting to be a famous writer. I grew older, I discovered other things. But whenever I get bored, I always find myself writing. It's funny how easy it is for me to abandon writing, but also how easy it is for writing to always welcome me back.
INTEND TO KEEP:
Stop smoking. Stop drinking. Stop partying. Stop pushing the snooze button on my alarm. Start jogging everyday. Start eating healthy. Study every night. Get GREAT grades, "good enough" grades. Save money. Stop buying stuff I want, but I don't need. Learn how to cook without poisoning my own family again. Wash my own clothes. Learn how to drive. Tell my family I'm extended in college. Prioritize my academics. Get on good terms with the evil grandparents.
Damn. I hate January because of the many things people expect from you.
I couldn't sleep because I can't believe we're together again. After the seemingly endless countdown, finally I get to sleep in your arms again. Even though I was tired, even though I probably would have slept once my head hit the pillow. And I think I kept you up, troubling you with small kisses and all. I'm sorry I still can't get over the fact. I know I missed you during the break, I didn't know I missed you
much. So as we said last January 1, let's spend this year and many many more years together.
Today it hit me. It is 2010 and I will be turning 19 in May. It was just a year ago when I turned 18. It was just three years ago when I entered college. It was just seven years ago when I entered high school. It was just ten years ago when my mother died. It was just thirteen years ago when I entered elementary school. It was just eighteen years ago when I was born. And here I go acting like I'm mature and stuff when in reality, I've just been on this earth for ONLY eighteen years.
Ultimate burnout. Where did my vacation go? Did anyone see where my relaxing holidays are? I guess not. Even I can't find time to relax anymore. My super lazy vacation now seem lost and forgotten. Still having a hard time adjusting to school days again. Still having trouble waking up early. Still having trouble keeping up with the things I have to do. I seriously think I'm a hypocrite. I always say I love all the pressure. Then I always end up complaining. I guess I must also like complaining. That's when you can tell who really listens to you.
The Philippines will die this year, particularly in May, as the country votes for its next president. It will be my first time to vote and I am completely undecided. I have never seen such a bad combination of candidates. Puppets, rich kids, some corrupt spiritual guy, an ex-president, a guy with a good track record but many hidden agendas (so they say) and so on and so forth. Out of all of them, for me, there is no one fit to lead our dying country. I've always known that we have hope. Now I'm not so sure anymore.
This is one of those times. When I can't write anything. Not because I don't want to, but because there is nothing to write about. This is one of those times when I don't want to put any effort and think of an interesting topic for today's 100words. I am just not in the mood. This is one of those times when I am irritated with absolutely everything. That I get easily frustrated with every little thing anyone says or do. I hate it when this happens to me. I become a bitch. And just because I want your attention.
I bet you that my closest friends will laugh and shake their heads in disbelief when you tell them that I'm insecure. No one thinks I have the ability to be insecure. Why? I'm loud, outgoing, friendly. They say I have everything going for me. What more could I ask for? And the answer? Nothing really. Just your assurance, your attention, peace of mind. I'm as insecure as any other girl. Possibly, I may be even more insecure. Because even though I trust you, there is still this nagging feeling inside me telling me that I'm not enough for you.
I enjoy the simple things in life:
cuddling, wrapping myself up in a blanket, movies, lying down and talking, corned tuna and egg, reading 100words, updating my Facebook status, putting on my bright pink flat sandals, seeing people I haven't seen for a while, sleeping in class, updating my planner, looking at pictures, photoshop, reminiscing, walking around campus on windy days, debates, kidding around, hugging, dinner with people i miss, seeing my batchmates, shopping, putting coins in my piggy bank, watching games, finishing stuff i have to do, devc143 videos, sleeping in between classes, RESTING AFTER A LONG DAY!
Competition has its ups and downs. Let us count the ways.
DOWNS: I feel like I'm a failure. There is always someone better than me. I lose every time. I feel ugly. She is so much prettier than me. I feel worthless. And I hate self pity. Damn it. I get frustrated easily. I frown more, smile less. I snap easily and hate everyone around me. Loser.
UPS: I get motivated. I try harder. I excel. I push myself beyond my limits. I don't give up.
Why is it that there are more DOWNs than UPs in competition? Epic fail.
To Signals '08: I miss our carefree days. I miss the kiddie Signals. The us who had so much fire and passion in serving the society. We still exhibit that now, and we have proven our strength and worth by joining different fraternities and sororities and still working hard for the society that we love--for the society that brought us together. Where did those carefree days go? Gone. Underneath the pile of responsibilities we now have. Gone, underneath the pile of work we have to finish. Gone, under the pile of broken hearts created among us. I miss you.
I will say this again and I have said it a lot of times: I AM A PLEASER. This is why I'm a workaholic. I like trying, I love pleasing people. And as I've said before, my biggest enemy is: ME. I am the hardest person to satisfy. It may be hard to believe, but I am never pleased with myself. Never. I always find fault with myself. Like, I could have done this instead of this. I could have done better. It's part of my insecurity. If I'm not enough for me, how can I be enough for you?
I saw old pictures of mine and they made me laugh. Thin arms. Dresses. Sandals. Full bangs. That wide, innocent smile. Whatever happened to the thin, nerdy, studious good girl? I think people must miss her a lot. Because in her place, there is now this sociable, loud, rebellious bitch. And even though she is loved by many, I still miss that good girl sometimes. When I look in the mirror, what I see is a lot different from what I used to see. She is more herself now, but she is not as carefree nor as innocent as before.
I never imagined that teaching third-graders would mean a lot. If this wasn't a subject in the University, I probably would've never done this. When our group first started, we were horrified. Third-graders who punched and kicked each other, kids who were the ultimate hype. It was too much. We dreaded every Saturday. And every Saturday, we came home tired, drained, not wanting to go back. But of course we did; we had to. For the grade. And now, it is our second to the last time to see them. I never imagined I'd be heartbroken over this.
I want a footspa. I think, my feet really need it. I used to have these soft, white, blister-free feet way back in high school. When I used to always wear closed shoes and sneakers. When college life came, it was slippers everyday. Now I look at my feet--blisters everywhere, calluses even. I find myself grimacing and feeling sorry for myself that I can't even find time for a footspa. Then I laugh. My changing feet is just like me. Used to be innocent, clean, pure, and now I'm hardened, I have suffered and yet I still survive.
One day we will go on a getaway. We will ride for hours, we will drink lots of beer and eat lots of food. We will swim on the beach, we will let ourselves be caught by the waves. We will lie down on the sand. We will write stuff on the sand even though we know they will be washed away. We will gaze up at the bright sky and feel the warm breeze. We will sit together and watch the beautiful sunset. We will gaze at the stars and watch the tide rise. I promise this will happen.
It's a unique group of people. It's a group which is made up of very diverse people, the kind that you wouldn't normally see together. Yet this group is bound together by something so strong. It is their opinions, their beliefs, their strong will, and their strong personalities. They all want change, and they fight for change. They suffer the consequences. Some go all out. Some disappear. Some continue, some become discriminated and ridiculed. But still they go on, still they continue to fight. For the country that they love so much that they are willing to risk their selves.
What you learned in kindergarten will help you greatly in life: Look both ways. Never rush into anything. Red never goes well with green, except during Christmas. Santa isn't real, but it isn't wrong to believe. Wishes do come true. Keep off the grass. Especially weeds. Don't pick flowers. Wash your hands. Brush your teeth. Fix your bed. The guys who tease you like you. Never wear your hair in two braids. Smile like you mean it. Never tell lies--or don't get caught. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer. Hold hands when you go off into the world.
I always knew Santa wasn't real. But there was a part of me that wished he did. I always knew there were tricks involved in magic shows, but I always wished that magic really did exist. I always knew that the Tooth Fairy was just my mom or dad, but it always fascinated me just thinking about its existence. I know elves are just imaginary, but wouldn't it be fun if they were real? I've always been told the story of Peter Pan and it amazed me that he wouldn't grow up. I always wished I could be young forever.
I would love to be an inspiration to someone. I would love to be the story behind an amazing novel, or photograph, sculpture, song or movie. I would like to be the reason for some work of art. It feels good to be inspired, to be able to write or make something with so much ease and so much happiness-just plain happy with what you're doing. It feels amazing, it feels so EASY. I've been inspired a few times now, and for once, I would like to be the inspiration, the reason, the story behind something beautiful and mysterious.
It is finally our last day to teach the grade three students. Finally, I can rest on Saturdays. Finally, I can cuddle and sleep all I want and wake up late. No more weekly meetings to think of what to teach and what games to play with the kids. No more bullying, no more tiring Saturdays. So I never expected that I would feel sad as I stepped into the classroom for the last time. The kids who gave us such a hard time didn't want to see us leave and they gave us a goodbye we will never forget.
They were the couple that I thought would last forever. No, not forever, because forever is such a long time. But I thought they would last longer than any other couple I know. They've broken up a lot of times before and they still find themselves together. I thought they could overcome all obstacles. Relationships have ended and started all around them and they still stick together. I've always admired their commitment and them as a couple. But this time, it's for real. There really is no backing out. I guess when you really love, you hurt and get hurt.
Love hurts everyone. Love can make a cheerful person cry all day and all night. Love can kill someone. Love can break all sorts of friendships and relationships. Love tears people apart. Love? It just complicates everything. It is a beautiful destroyer. It makes you hope, it makes you wish, it makes you happy--temporarily. So why continue to love? Because love still gives people hope. Love makes us happy, despite all the moments we've been hurt. Love can still make people believe and love is just something no one can control. Yes we get hurt, but pain is temporary.
Would you make a decision to make yourself happy, knowing that this could change everything and probably hurt people you care about the most? This is why I hate decisions. Because everyone can't be happy. Someone always gets hurt. This is how the world can be called unfair. There will never be a time that everyone is sincerely happy and contented. It hurts to hurt people, even if you do what you want for yourself. It may be easier to please others. But I learned something the hard way. Sometimes, you have to give yourself a chance to be happy.
The best thing in this world is that pain is temporary. It would suck if up until now, we still feel all our scratches and broken limbs. Yes, we remember that they hurt back then. But today, they don't hurt anymore. We just remember the pain, but we don't feel anymore. Same with emotions and broken hearts. We remember the pain, we remember crying, we remember familiar aches. But they're over now. We are all strong, we all grow up and move on. So live and laugh and make decisions. Because even though we get hurt, we still become happy.
This is what I don't like about myself--that I look down on myself too much. I don;t believe in my capabilities, abilities, and I don't believe that I am enough for anyone. I always believe that there is something lacking in me. I always don't believe it when people admire me and praise me for being myself. I always tell people that they are special, that they are powerful beyond their limits. And here I am just being a hypocrite. I act all strong and tough and I act like I can do anything. But I can't. Sucks.
I've always seen him as strong, way back in our childhood days. He was someone who would never back down and who wouldn't lose hope. As we grew older, I saw his soft side. Tough, fierce, but he loved her so much. He was willing to give everything. And now I can see his vulnerable side--the one caused by a broken heart. But I understand why she did what she had to. Because in reality, people should stop kidding themselves. People may get hurt, but there are decisions that have to be made or else people will hurt more.
Sometimes, during my busiest days when I am haggard with schoolwork and extracurricular activities, I get a lazy spell. This means I just want to stop everything, I want to take a rest, stare off into space. It is my own timeout from the rest of the world. It is when I am in my own world, just thinking and thinking. After this, I am refreshed and I go out again into the world. Again, another realization hits me. It feels good to get a break from the rest of the world, but I would always choose to go out.
January has been a month of revelations, heartaches, reminiscing and decision making. Every January, I am reminded of how fast time goes by and how fast we seem to grow up. Every January, I am surprised at the load of things that have happened during the year we left behind. It is overwhelming realizing that indeed, some things are temporary. This realization makes me a little sad, knowing how many things have ended, but this realization also gives me hope, knowing how more things are about to happen and knowing that we have the ability to make ourselves happy still.
The Tip Jar