RIP Secretary Robredo

And Noynoy is still alive...





I just couldn't help but say it.

DAFUQ DID I JUST SEE

I don't see nothing wrong with a little.. WAIT. WHAT? I DON'T SEE NOTHING RIGHT IN THIS IMAGE.

This meme has ruined my life. I will therefore repost it and spread the link on twitter hoping I could share the trauma and ruin your lives as well.

All the Cramps in the World

Being a girl (or I'd love to say woman, I'm 18 now, niggers) is severely underrated.

I'd rather have a useless part of my gonads mercilessly chopped off by some fifty year old foreign pervert with a fake medical degree than to go through this mental physical emotional kind of torture every damn month.

I feel like killing anyone who tries talking to me.
I want to shave my head and dye it blonde like Miley and Malfoy.
My oral fixation is heightened aggressively; I feel the constant need to eat any edible thing I can get my hands on.
I feel like killing anyone who tries talking to me.
I'm planning the lawsuit I will file against the Midol Company when I graduate. The inefficacy of their drug is taking it's toll on my life (as well as every one else living with me) every 28 days.
I feel like killing anyone who tries talking to me.
Everlong, my happy song, has pissed me off a lot lately. When Dave Grohl starts getting on my nerves, I think that means the world REALLY will fall apart soon.
Doc Jerry is like an onion; I love him so damn much but the thought of Fil 14 makes me burst into tears.
I feel like killing anyone who tries talking to me.
Who the living crap is Bea Binene and why is she black?
Polsci majors are the most impoverished students in Ateneo not because we aren't capitalists; We're just blessed with overly generous professors who enjoy requiring movies and plays. (Not to mention a Bible-length of readings to spend for, that goes without saying)
I feel like killing anyone who tries talking to me.


I want some bulgogi right now.


Take me to Bonchon... 145 pesos, so worth it.

Woes

"The best part was the scene with Janet where we had to touch each other. It wasn't the best part because I got to touch Sam and have her to touch me. It's the exact opposite. I know it sounds dumb, but it's true. Just before the scene, I thought about Sam, and I thought that if I touched her that way and meant it, it would be cheap. And as much as I think I want to someday touch her like that, I never want it to be cheap. I don't want it to be Rocky and Janet, I wanted Sam and I. And I don't want her to mean it back. So we just played." - Charlie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I need not say more. 

As irritating as the tiny black dirt on your nails your nail cutters can't seem to reach

I’m repressed.

I’ve been trying so hard to condense all my useless thoughts within the 140 characters of twitter for quite a while now; it does NOT suffice.

 My last post was too EMOtionally propelled, I ended up too scared to even open my blog, afraid I might judge myself. (And self-judgment is always tons and tons and tons of notches gentler than judgments from an outsider’s point of view. I refuse to imagine what goes on in your minds.)

Anyway…

 To satisfy a craving, there is nothing else to do but to succumb to those desires and indulge. In other words, I will now take the liberty to discuss all the useless things going on in my head tonight (And as “The Middle” by Jimmy Eat World plays, the perfect mood for a Teen age ranting session starts to set)

1)   I am really bothered by the extreme boringness of ANC News reporters’ speaking voice.

If you watch ANC, you definitely know what I mean. If you don’t: Turn on your TV, go to channel 27, listen for 2 minutes and then I will allow you to go through the rest of my post.

I can’t even tell if it’s a purpose act. Is it? I think it is. How can anyone be so passive while talking about the most cathartic things? So maybe they should be neutral and in all ways, impartial. But it’s not just their creepy passiveness that bothers me. It’s how they manifest their disturbing passiveness in the exact same nerve-wracking manner. I’m starting to think that ABS CBN makes them go through a workshop (I think it’s called: The how to have no emotions and sound exactly like everyone else in this channel workshop) before their first exposure. I don’t know.

Bottom line is: These people creep me out.

2)   I hate GMA celebrities SO. DAMN. BAD.

I’ve already gone through this thought over and over again, prolly a hundred times in my head. What makes them so irritating? I don’t know. They’re not ugly; in fact I think Lovi Poe is one of the most gorgeous Filipinas I’ve ever seen. They’re not talentless either. None of them have that nauseating Empress and Erich accent, you know, the one that makes you want to pull their tongues out. But for some reason, no matter how much they irritate me I’d rather repress my desires to pull of their taste organs off and watch them, over any GMA star.

I know I sound too violent. I’m starting to think that the problem lies within myself. I need to increase my patience and be more tolerant. But the question is, of what? How on earth do I heighten my tolerance of something I can not even pinpoint?

3) Rats scare the living ____ of me, and I love history class.

A few days ago, I went down the Piraeus to submit to my green mango and bagoong cravings. (Weh Socrates)

 (In other words, pumunta ako sa palengke para bumili ng manggang hilaw at bagoong)

            Let me narrate my experience, Pokemon style (There’s more suspense this way)

Bianca enters a dark street.

A wild giant rat appears.

What does Bianca do?

Bianca sabotages herself by suddenly remembering her history lesson for the day (The Bubonic plague and how rats almost killed Europe)

What does Giant rat do?

Giant rat wags its tail.

Bianca runs away.

             I almost had a heart attack, and I’m not even exaggerating, not even a tiny bit. I hate rats, and rats hate me. We are two living creatures that will NEVER co-exist. I am one of the most adaptable cowgirls you will ever find, but I will always always always feel fright and thoughts of death in the presence of those hairy little abominations. I would rather wipe ass like Sharon Cuneta did in Caregiver, than touch a rat/mouse/hamster even just for a second.

4)   What is with this Fifty Shades of Grey fad?

As I have tweeted, “I’ll be a condescending hipster who refuses to get her hands anywhere near that Fifty Shades of Sexual Abomination you’re all talking about.”

I don’t even want do dwell on this any longer. This book has such a huge (and horny) fan-base, I’m afraid if I write more; I might not make it alive.

ANYHUU

I’ve satisfied my write/rant hunger and am therefore too lazy to come up with a proper concluding sentence.

This aint no paper; I can leave whenever I want.

Dirtbags, Detention-rats and all other forms of unappreciative of teenagers.

This thing was made in, uhm, less than 7 minutes. Spur of the moment kind of thing. Excuse the R13 language, and don't even attempt to interpret anything.

I’m not a fcking math genius

And neither are you

So I cant see why you torment me

For things even you cant do

I just try to be happy

But that wont happen here

This isn’t my home,

Its just a house

With furniture,

Four people who are sadly related

And the devil…or a house maid?

I really cant tell the difference.

I wanna move out

I want to move out.

To where people stop highlighting

Every little mistake

Thinking you purposely did

Just to irritate

But no

The world doesn’t revolve around you

So shut up.

You use me as a token

For your bragging rights

To feed your god damn ego

To parade around and brag

I can’t believe we’re related

I hate this house.

I’m your black sheep

The problem child

The one who can’t seem to do anything right

You try to love me

You fail miserably

I’m a stain to your god damn genealogy

I got a bucket full of flaws

I wonder where I got them

When you two are so perfect

Perhaps I’m adopted

Maybe I’m adopted

I wish I were adopted

Because if I were adopted

Then it would all make sense

Because I hate you all

The Monster of REGRET

I. Hypocrisy

We only live our lives once, thus it is much healthier to live it without regrets. Eradicate all the regrets that you stock in your heart, big or tiny as they may be, as they are of no use. Remember your exact state of mind that moment you decided on that very choice, back when it was exactly what you wanted, when it was the most optimal wish your heart and mind could possibly agree on. And then, remind yourself why you chose that path in the first place, until you come to accept things as they are. Soon you will see everything in good light, and eventually greet everything with a smile.

Bullshit. Never have I composed such a hypocritical group of self help quotes and pretentiously helpful words. When I meet a man who hasn’t been eaten up by regret, not even for a moment in his life, maybe, then maybe I would actually consider believing all of this emotional hullaballoo. Why did I even write that.

Perchance those words are helpful. Perhaps those quotes would aid to free us from the cage of regret we have entrapped ourselves in, that very moment we start beating ourselves up for that one decision we didn’t expect (or if in a masochistic paradigm, something we did in fact expect) that would break us apart.

II. My Attempt to Synthesize the Principle of Regret

There is no such thing as a person who hasn’t made a single faulty choice in life. A man with no regret is a man with no mistake, and that is unless he is wholly apathetic with his life and wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if everything fell apart. As for me, I think its my trauma and fear of the human imperfection that lit the matchstick for my little candle of regret. Had I known this little candle’s fire would burst into flames and burn me like a morning toast bread, I wouldn’t have chose to fear for what possible disasters human imperfection might torment me with, and would’ve made an otherwise decision in the first place.

And that, my friends, is the very essence of regret. We are stuck on had I knowns and if I knews. And then we mentally beat ourselves up for not knowing, for not seeing it coming—things that clearly weren’t our fault, but since there is no one else accountable but ourselves, it appears to be, and will always be our mistake. That’s just how this unfairly callous world functions.

You know you’re screwed that very moment your mistake starts living in your head; It would plant seeds in your mind until it grows, grows, grows and dominates the bulk of your thoughts, until every idle moment your brain would just turn into sessions of regret reminiscence. And in those sessions, your brain is bombarded with thoughts of what could have happened had you made a different choice, or it would probably ponder on how reckless of a decision was the path you chose. All these imposing, emphasizing, and accentuating your stupidity…until you feel so wrong you just cant help but scream your lungs out, or in tamer cases, just simply burst into tears.

III. And here comes the reflection paper, the root of my bane synthesis, the fuel of all the thoughts that build up this post

I’m pretty certain that this isn’t an isolated case. I know you’ve felt that exact regret-induced pain as well. And then you reach this pathetic point when these aches of regret are just too much, your chest starts hurting and everything just seems out of place. The worst part is when this shit load of regret piles itself up in a chain reaction—when your attempts to mitigate just end up working like a bomb that destroys everything even more. When you want to call him/her up and everything just gets worse. When you explain yourself but everything is taken the wrong way, making you seem like an even bigger villain. This is all until you reach that point when your pride is almost completely obsolete, when dignity doesn’t matter, just as long as you get to undo your mistakes and rid yourself of those regrets, but when deep inside you know it will just remain a figment of your imagination, It will never happen. It can’t happen. It’s too late.

Had I freed myself from my fear of his human imperfections, I wouldn’t be in such despondency right now. My fear sabotaged the only thing that brought me genuine happiness, the only thing that had enough power to make me smile on a shitty day. And now it feels as if my stomach muscles contract and my heart palpitates every single time I’m reminded of my foolishness. I didn’t fight for it. I had the chance. I had it in my hands. But I chose to free my palms and let it fly away, until there was nothing left, until it was all gone .And now it’s too late. And I regret it. And it just kills me.

And suddenly, “what if” became the two saddest words I could think of.

IV. Lesson Learned

My gut tells me that I am speaking with much ambiguity. I’m drowning myself in metaphors, as I can not find adequate words to perfectly describe the principle of regret. All I am sure of is that this is exactly how I am feeling right now. No, contrary to what your meager minds might want to believe, this is not an emo post. Time and again, it would always be perfectly normal for people to be bothered by mistakes and regrets. Given this gloom of a situation, there are only two things we ought to do: It’s either we hope, or we accept and move on. It is principal to have proper judgment as to when it is proper time to do either of those two. Nevertheless, regrets will remain an inevitable piece in the puzzle of life. So put on your combat boots and prepare to jump your mind away from the burns and flames of the words what if.