Thursday, November 5, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Writing is a Good Friend
The day I set this Blogger account on Hiatus was actually the time I got home from Ateneo after visiting Bianca. Well, to make things short, I heard from a friend that she was not in good terms with me. And that being said, I didn't even have a single clue as to why.
A week before my visit, I asked around some common acquaintances of ours and I learned that she was mad (I couldn't find an appropriate word) at me because news reached her that I was spreading that she made me hold on to her yet I never had the slightest chance on winning her. To not further complicate this topic, I was supposedly spreading bad rumor, therefore ruining her image to the people.
News reached to me too that I was spreading this bad rumor. I was supposed to be the doer but it seemed as if I didn't know I was already doing the whatsoever thing I was supposed to be doing. I got to admit though that I don't really know what I speak about whenever I'm under the effects of too much alcohol intake (and I don't wish to be considered as well in these cases), but the big question is: WHY?
Why would I spread bad rumor about the girl I loved the most? To whom I offered all of my heart to? To whom I devoted the whole of my self to? Why would I demolish a friendship that took me effort on establishing upon good foundation? Why would I waste such relationship that I've worked my ass all throughout? Why, after investing so much time, would I want all of these to falter? Why?
Having no clear answer myself, I decided to go see Bianca. And I did. I won't be telling what happened (you better ask me personally). I got to say a little of my side and explain myself to her - I got to say sorry for all the trouble - but here's the verdict: doom.
She told me that she was able to confirm the news from 3 of my friends whom she declined to identify due to privacy. Ok I respect that. But if I was really spreading bad rumor, and I really mean SPREADING the hell of it, the whole of Ateneo should've known the whole shitload of the fucking act.
But, no.
My blockmates never heard from me. And so did my English classmates together with Bianca except for those close friends of mine on that section. And I only told my whole story to aMp people she never knew, or my close friends who got only as close to her as seeing her silhouette from afar.
And do I really spread bad rumor? If yes, beat the hell out of me the next time you see me. I mean the HELL FUCKING OUT. And I'd even thank you for that, good sir. I highly regard that beating me up as commendable, even if I'm to take great pain so as to justify my crime. I don't boast the fact that I respect women highly, but if I ever did spread bad rumor about a woman, it would be breaking my principles in life, thus, a crime to me and my world.
On the other side of the paper though, she might have overseen through the whole situation and thus believed a rather less true point of view (since I will never admit that she commits mistakes), I'd still not get angry at her. I just couldn't. Why would I?
No matter what happens, I love her as as friend. And I swear to high heavens that when I pronounce the syllables of the word "love," I fucking mean it.
The whole thing got me crushed to the ground, hopeless. It gets me depressed. "Depressed," ladies and gentlemen, since I don't find the words "fucked up" as real even though the latter phrase has always been my favorite during my screw ups in life.
And Bianca, if ever you read this, I just couldn't find the right words to tell you that's why I can't just talk to you. I don't know what to say since I think I've already said more than enough the last time we saw each other. Nevertheless, I still don't have the soul and the spirit to face you after all these. But don't worry, you can always, and I mean ALWAYS, approach me. And if ever I really did spread the rumor, kindly tell it to me again and I'll gladly accept it. And do whatever pleases you. As long as you're happy, I'm fine. It's what I've always wanted after all - your happiness, not mine. Don't worry, I'll deal with anything. :-)
Here's a tear for reality and for its death.
-----
Johnnie Walker had this quote "Keep Walking." I did. It got me somewhere.
A week before my visit, I asked around some common acquaintances of ours and I learned that she was mad (I couldn't find an appropriate word) at me because news reached her that I was spreading that she made me hold on to her yet I never had the slightest chance on winning her. To not further complicate this topic, I was supposedly spreading bad rumor, therefore ruining her image to the people.
News reached to me too that I was spreading this bad rumor. I was supposed to be the doer but it seemed as if I didn't know I was already doing the whatsoever thing I was supposed to be doing. I got to admit though that I don't really know what I speak about whenever I'm under the effects of too much alcohol intake (and I don't wish to be considered as well in these cases), but the big question is: WHY?
Why would I spread bad rumor about the girl I loved the most? To whom I offered all of my heart to? To whom I devoted the whole of my self to? Why would I demolish a friendship that took me effort on establishing upon good foundation? Why would I waste such relationship that I've worked my ass all throughout? Why, after investing so much time, would I want all of these to falter? Why?
Having no clear answer myself, I decided to go see Bianca. And I did. I won't be telling what happened (you better ask me personally). I got to say a little of my side and explain myself to her - I got to say sorry for all the trouble - but here's the verdict: doom.
She told me that she was able to confirm the news from 3 of my friends whom she declined to identify due to privacy. Ok I respect that. But if I was really spreading bad rumor, and I really mean SPREADING the hell of it, the whole of Ateneo should've known the whole shitload of the fucking act.
But, no.
My blockmates never heard from me. And so did my English classmates together with Bianca except for those close friends of mine on that section. And I only told my whole story to aMp people she never knew, or my close friends who got only as close to her as seeing her silhouette from afar.
And do I really spread bad rumor? If yes, beat the hell out of me the next time you see me. I mean the HELL FUCKING OUT. And I'd even thank you for that, good sir. I highly regard that beating me up as commendable, even if I'm to take great pain so as to justify my crime. I don't boast the fact that I respect women highly, but if I ever did spread bad rumor about a woman, it would be breaking my principles in life, thus, a crime to me and my world.
On the other side of the paper though, she might have overseen through the whole situation and thus believed a rather less true point of view (since I will never admit that she commits mistakes), I'd still not get angry at her. I just couldn't. Why would I?
No matter what happens, I love her as as friend. And I swear to high heavens that when I pronounce the syllables of the word "love," I fucking mean it.
The whole thing got me crushed to the ground, hopeless. It gets me depressed. "Depressed," ladies and gentlemen, since I don't find the words "fucked up" as real even though the latter phrase has always been my favorite during my screw ups in life.
And Bianca, if ever you read this, I just couldn't find the right words to tell you that's why I can't just talk to you. I don't know what to say since I think I've already said more than enough the last time we saw each other. Nevertheless, I still don't have the soul and the spirit to face you after all these. But don't worry, you can always, and I mean ALWAYS, approach me. And if ever I really did spread the rumor, kindly tell it to me again and I'll gladly accept it. And do whatever pleases you. As long as you're happy, I'm fine. It's what I've always wanted after all - your happiness, not mine. Don't worry, I'll deal with anything. :-)
Here's a tear for reality and for its death.
-----
Johnnie Walker had this quote "Keep Walking." I did. It got me somewhere.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Sleep, Glorious Sleep
Sleep is glorious. It is a human being's basic form of physical regeneration from lack of sleep itself, exhaustion, whatever shit - you name it. Sleeping is the optimal form of physical rest because one temporarily stops utilizing the whole body for whatever purpose and it's just left lying down in a bed or something.
Sleep also grants mental rest as well. The mind temporarily stops thinking about the past, present and future and relieves itself of stress. The brain runs in tranquility and serenity, granting its owner the state called "peace of mind."
Moreover, sleep makes you happy.
And when you sleep, you dream. When you dream, you encounter one of the wonderful phenomena of life. When you encounter one of the wonderful phenomena of life, you wonder how wonderful life is. When you wonder how wonderful life is, you think of everything else. When you think of everything else, you get tired. When you get tired...
Do fucking sleep.
Sleep also grants mental rest as well. The mind temporarily stops thinking about the past, present and future and relieves itself of stress. The brain runs in tranquility and serenity, granting its owner the state called "peace of mind."
Moreover, sleep makes you happy.
And when you sleep, you dream. When you dream, you encounter one of the wonderful phenomena of life. When you encounter one of the wonderful phenomena of life, you wonder how wonderful life is. When you wonder how wonderful life is, you think of everything else. When you think of everything else, you get tired. When you get tired...
Do fucking sleep.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Ironic
It's very interesting why the people you trust the most...
Gives the trust you gave them back to you and tell you...
"I don't fucking care."
I don't give a shit either.
Gives the trust you gave them back to you and tell you...
"I don't fucking care."
I don't give a shit either.
Monday, August 10, 2009
I Didn't Know That
Well here's something really cool. I once forged this thing called "heart" in the fires of enthusiasm and sincerity. It was powerful enough - being my own Excalibur to fend off impurities to the word "love." I tried to make that heart stand for true love.
Sometimes, you just lose the war.
It looks like this: this so-called heart I offered to that someone declined what I willingly gave her and she gave it back to me. So me, being dumbfounded at the time, thought that that heart would be of no use. Still, I kept it.
After several months of intense and rigorous analysis, I now conclude that this thing I worked hard for called "heart" is nothing but a stinky little piece of shit. So while I was walking home just this afternoon I threw it away. I don't know where it landed though but I hope it gets destroyed. I don't care now that it's out of me. At least I got one of my hands free.
Although I'm willing to forge another one, perhaps a stronger and more determined one, for a special someone, I'm afraid that I'd be deliberately wasting my time.
Now I know what this is: Bitterness. I should stop ranting, like, now? Yes. This ain't getting me anywhere and I'm simply igniting my own entropy.
Sometimes, you just lose the war.
It looks like this: this so-called heart I offered to that someone declined what I willingly gave her and she gave it back to me. So me, being dumbfounded at the time, thought that that heart would be of no use. Still, I kept it.
After several months of intense and rigorous analysis, I now conclude that this thing I worked hard for called "heart" is nothing but a stinky little piece of shit. So while I was walking home just this afternoon I threw it away. I don't know where it landed though but I hope it gets destroyed. I don't care now that it's out of me. At least I got one of my hands free.
Although I'm willing to forge another one, perhaps a stronger and more determined one, for a special someone, I'm afraid that I'd be deliberately wasting my time.
Now I know what this is: Bitterness. I should stop ranting, like, now? Yes. This ain't getting me anywhere and I'm simply igniting my own entropy.
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