Current state: peaceful in solitude yet melancholic in a sense. The absence of laughter and nonsensical television noise in the background the momentary barking of dogs and my name being called by my mother. The sacrifice of going to an amusement park to face school work is somehow a won battle for me (I hope) but I still have to finish something in order to claim victory. According to a text message from a friend that I just received, “…start somewhere so I don’t get lost this week.” Exactly. Imagine my calendar with everyday of the week filled with dots, the dots represent that I have a deadline during that day or I have something to do. A restrained osmosis, a faded scream. The past week is the perfect definition of hectic and busy. I need to memorize a script, do three artworks, shoot an ethnovideo, and I cannot seem to recall the others. Ah, I want more noodles.
Time flies so fast eh? I just borrowed a book from the library last week and it’s already due tomorrow. (My common expression, but I borrow books every tuesday and/or thursdays)
Everything is just dawning on me. It’s already 10.25.13 soon it’ll be 12.31.13 and then January 2014, my birth month, and then I’m 19. Like woah woah woah there. I haven’t even posted photos of my debut and like fly fly fly it’s already 2014 and what happened in between? A LOT. I just wanna write for the sake of writing. Writing is therapy. And I sure need this kind of therapy so I’d keep track of things. I don’t know if this is normal but I sorta feel like my dreams and reality are reversed. Fragments of my supposed dream have occurred already or are occurring in reality and when I’m dreaming I feel like it’s reality. I don’t know if that makes sense.I’m not on drugs btw haha sometimes I think maybe I’m a character that has a certain mental syndrome or something. My synesthesia has dreary days that makes me utmost nauseous. I dare not to explain it to anyone anymore for it complicates things. I just have momentary zoning out and staring into space. It’s kinda fun tho, if you enjoy it. Anyway, nuff about that. Let me write down random things;
I feel sleepy already, I’ve been waiting for a phone call but it seems like sandman sprinkled dust on my eyes already. Guten nacht.
Hello everyone, the back of me says hi. I just noticed that it’s yay long already. Hahaha random. I really want to post lots of photos and tell stories right now! I have lots of stored photos in my cam. I’ve been messing around with glue, papers, and scissors. I’ll have other polaroid photos developed too. I am also reading a book by Sandra Magsamen. I’ve been spending some time away from the internet, and filling my soul by creating. The photo is greatly irrelevant but it says hello. Trivia: I always, well most of the time, sit in front. andIamfranticrightnowcosofthingsmytummyischurningokay.
pps. as you can see, I don’t comb. I just pony into a bun or braid. :)
Okay, this is a random post. They’re talking about my 18th birthday outside. Well, I can’t help but over hear it, and of course, I’m eaves dropping hahaha. Mom and I can’t seem to understand each other, we haven’t compromised yet. I dont know if she wants it to be simple cos I want it simple and not that grand, I dont want conventional gowns and frilly stuff, so I want it to be 3 days 2 nights road trip to the beach with a mini bus for me and my friends convoyed with other cars. I want it to be in Zambales or batangas or wherever, because no one will be able to come if I choose, let’s say puerto. Hahaha or maybe nearer cos their parents wont allow them. Well most of em. I think. So yeah, you get the picture. Chill at the beach, drinks, music, sunset, adventure, island hopping or whatever. I mean, it’s simple yet complex. Their first suggestion was I go to London on January. I kinda liked the idea but, I came to thinking I’d choose friends and memories to create than them giving me $$$. My mom and dad thinks that the 3 day beach trip is kind of, difficult. Though I think it’s simple. AND the funny thing is, they think it’s gonna cost them much yet they’re suggesting that we go to an out of the country trip. DO YOU SEE THE IRONY HERE. Oh and I’m planning a mini meet up before my birthday, few chosen followers :> Well, those are still plans for now. I just hope my 18th would be unforgettable.
Someday, that day will come, when that unplanned trip happens just because we want to escape, run free and get lost. Wherein i’ll pack my clothes, get money and just go out to the open road for miles and miles and miles. Friends with me or whoever is that someone to keep me company. To feel alive just because. Windows down, chilly wind running through my hair, good music that you’ve never heard of, deep conversations, city lights to northern lights, as buildings fade to trees, as roads meet the shore, as the sun dips down to the other side of the world and the night sky is embedded with stars, we’ll just go on and on, having the adventure of a lifetime.
"Sometimes, I wish to capture the stillness of the moment. On this particular afternoon where everything is in different hues of orange, pink and yellow; sounds of laughter resonating through the light. A lovely person who captured such. I wish to be in it again. But then, the only thing that doesn’t change is change."
by Mik of karenfelloutofbedagain
Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or make love at four in the afternoon. They might not sleep at all. Or they might sleep right through the alarm and forget to get you up for work. Or call you home from work to kill a spider. Or refuse to speak to you after finding out you’ve never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. Or spend the last of the rent money on five kinds of soap. Or sell your textbooks for cash halfway through the semester. Or leave you love notes in your pockets. Or wash your pants with Post-It notes in the pockets so your laundry comes out covered in bits of wet paper. They might cry if the Post-It notes are unread all over your pants. It’s an unpredictable life.
But what happens if a writer falls in love with you?
This is a little more predictable. You will find your hemp necklace with the glass mushroom pendant around the neck of someone at a bus stop in a short story. Your favorite shoes will mysteriously disappear, and show up in a poem. The watch you always wear, the watch you own but never wear, the fact that you’ve never worn a watch: they suddenly belong to characters you’ve never known. And yet they’re you. They’re not you; they’re someone else entirely, but they toss their hair like you. They use the same colloquialisms as you. They scratch their nose when they lie like you. Sometimes they will be narrators; sometimes protagonists, sometimes villains. Sometimes they will be nobodies, an unimportant, static prop. This might amuse you at first. Or confuse you. You might be bewildered when books turn into mirrors. You might try to see yourself how your beloved writer sees you when you read a poem about someone who has your middle name or prose about someone who has never seen To Kill A Mockingbird. These poems and novels and short stories, they will scatter into the wind. You will wonder if you’re wandering through the pages of some story you’ve never even read. There’s no way to know. And no way to erase it. Even if you leave, a part of you will always be left behind.
If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.
Because I like lists..
April has been a chill time month for me, lazy bed days, eat, sleep and hang out. And I’m fine with that. Looking back at the sudden throw of life eat-this-shove-it-into-your-face-with-everything-all-at-once with the last 3rd term of college. So, Since it’s gon be May in a few days, it’s about time to quit holdin off and postponing things. I’ve got A LOT in this head of mine. So much plans and idle creative juice waiting to be set into action. Not to mention queued posts and never ending old TAs :. As usual, the lazy person that I am who wants to just roll up in sheets eat chips and watch New Girl. Ha. Since all-
most has been said, hopefully, with Divine Intervention and enough Human action. I’d be able to do my plans. Now, I don’t want them to just live and rot in my head don’t I? :) So yeah, I’ll end this like any other kid who reports in front. Waffles.
Sudden burst of I-feel-like-i-need-to-draw. I wanted to go back to my crazy artist side lol. First 30mins, 30%progress: rushed this cos I wanted to paint it, watercolor. But, whilst drawing I wanted to charcoal itttt since the photo is Grey scaled. I might have to draw another one for my watercolor portrait in order to convince my father to allow me to paint my hair seafoam blue. =) Oh well. Back to work!