A story of the Lonely

it has been a while since I wrote a new blog..the last I remember was when I was still awake at five am waiting for the sun to rise so that I could go to Bucana for an ocular inspection..only to realize that cat and I did not need the inspection at all since we have all the information we needed. so, we went to the mall instead and talked about stuff and all..

gazillion things have happened since I last posted a blog, I passed my Bucana plate after almost a week of not sleeping and a deadly practice from Dance ensemble which happened to have a concert on the day of our deadlined plate.. how unfortunate could i be, but anyway, it was still worth it because i passed my plate and had a successful show with the dance ensemble anyway despite my freak outs and tantrums and the hectic schedule..

i just realize today that I could even have better when pressured than having a passive lifestyle..it’s really true…but I don’t think it can apply to other people..

there is a difference if you’re a cramer or just that you have to really cram becasue you need to. Im a cramer who needs to cram tonight because of all the got to dos,I can’t seem to figure out which one to start first and which one to "mediocrize!!"(this is my term, an adjective for making a thing mediocre. I invented it myself!..hehe

well,its just that I don’ really want this thing to be mediocre.. and I don’t want anything to be mediocrized!!

so now,I am stil awake with a a competition plate to do and not even have is done and a research proposal I sometimes squized with bloggin and friendster.

and all I could think off is sleep and looking forward to alot of to does tomorrow and wishing that I could kinda wake up early tomorrow so that  I could wash my clothes an do all the chores that I plan to do (because in a boarding house, you have to do everything by yourself!). but then I guess, I could never wake up early considering my excessive craming and a major OC for blogging!!

I am a wide reader. My parents taught me to be one. My sister Claire introduced me to all kinds of literature when I was in elementary staring from fantasy stories to really morbid ones by Anne Rice. Before I started highs school, I had already read Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles.

The best place for me to wait for somebody in the mall is the book sale portion where I could glance at books at 35 pesos and fight the urge of buying one. When I have the urge to buy one, all I could think of was the idea that probably there’s a copy of this book at home because I live in a home where book lovers also live. In fact, I live in a house where a book worm (literary) live. In fact, he sleeps with books on his bed and on his walls.

            Just recently, maybe fours hours ago, I happen to stroll around the book sale again and saw “Superfudge” in one of the corners. This made me nostalgic. I had read superfudege when I was maybe in grade three. I missed the book. I wanted to buy it <it cost 35 pesos> and put I it in a frame.

            Superfudge is my childhood. I read the story twice or thrice but never really get to understand it. The idea of reading a book was the only thing that made me read more and more books as I can even though I never really understood it.

            When I was in grade five, I had read almost all my sister Claire’s book collection in the summer. I did not care if it was for an adult or for a new born baby or what so ever. I just wanted to read because I wanted to count the books that I read and be proud of being a reader.

           Superfudge made me recall that attitude. It was just so funny I wanted to be a kid again and capture things without deciphering.

            Maybe it would be easier that way than have all the knowledge and still unhappy….

because I am a dancer, I may never have beautiful feet..

but I do not mind because ther is an unconventional therapy in dancing that strengthens the mind. it tries to trap reality into beats and rest and counts it un halves our full notes..

and when I dance, the world I live in is nothing compared to the heaven of music…

so I guess I may never have beautiful feet..but I may have a new reality in a world of music

because I am a dancer, I may never have beautiful feet..

but I do not mind because ther is an unconventional therapy in dancing that strengthens the mind. it tries to trap reality into beats and rest and counts it un halves our full notes..

and when I dance, the world I live in is nothing compared to the heaven of music…

It is so hard to control emotions..especially when people around your start to nurse it..because the people around us are so influencial, we are most of the time convinced by their sentiment.

even if sometimes you do not like a certain song or a certain music, you are sometimes convinced that it is beautiful just because an influencial person told you that she liked that music or film or a person or an idea..

most of the time, the start of a spark between two person maybe female to female, male ot male or to the opposite sex, starts with the idea from the third voice. and then the person involve nurses this idea and one of them start to make the move..

people get married because a mother or a father or a film or a segemt in Oprah convinces them that they should..

any person suffer from jealousy not because of personal matters but because of a third voice trying to convince him or her that he should get jealous.

that is why it is so hard to control emotions because afterall, we don’t control them in the first place..the third voice does…

Last night,I watched the Oscar Nominee film Babel. I did not planned to watch it..It just so happen that evrybody was busy in the house and I had nothing else to do. Pearl wasusing the internet and claire was busy conceptualizing her dance and kuya nino was well, I don’t know..he was locking himself in his room probably surfing the net or watching dvds as well.

and I was left with only one option to sure my boredom..whish was the dvd player.

at first, I tried to listen to songs by women artist. It sort of boost my enery at firts because it complimented the new arrangement of the house.. We had just rearranged the house furnitures and the new feel was so cozy it felt like we were in a cafe..

I for one wanted the new arrangement because the sala set was now paralleled to the dim lights and the dinner table was parallel to to high light which was the right thing to do architecturally.

and it was alot cozier in the sala area. so I hybernated in the bin bags for a while and then started going through the dvds while listening to imogen heap and all the really good artist when I came across a film called Babel.

I would be lying if I tell you that I have not heard about the movie.I know that it was good but I never really had the chance to watch it because of all the plates and all the exams and ofcourse our romanitic date with alvin..

so finally, i had the chance to watch it and well, let’s just say when my eyes started dropping, the eyelids come up again like a remote controlled stepford wife!

Babel was movie ofpure reality.It presented life and the inevitable circumstances of it. It showed that life is hopeless.

Babel, started with two kids accidentally shooting a tourist in Morocco. They were playing with this new gun their father bought over a goat from Hassan. Hassan, who originally owned the gun was a good friend of a japanese hunter who actually really owned the gun in legal papers. this japanees hunter had a daughter who was confused and depressed ove her mother’s suicide..

I like the way Inarrutu presented the story line and the chain reaction and connections of each character..because it was so real..and it tell us that simple gesture may lead to unevitable problems in the future..

in another connected story.the tourist that was such played by kate blanchet had a sona and a daughter. these kids were raise and taken cared of by a mexican yaya..

I was really touched by the mexican yaya part because it was close to a filipina yaya. see the thing is that the racism and bais of a darked skin molata was implicitly shown in the movie..

it was so sad because the film was trying to say that bias over skin color is inevitable..

and yes, it is…in the world that we live in…white colored people dominate that even with just an accidentalshot of a kid can lead to allegations like a terrorist shot these americans..etc..

see,it is so sad that stereotype and biases exist in this world..because whether we like ti or not…it is reality..and the sadest part of it is that their seemto be nothing else that we can do..

we know that problems like this happen but we can never to something about it.

sigh

after finishing the movie with my emotions hanging on dantes’ peak..I slept with accepting reality nevertheless

is their someone who looks at testimonials and just clean it up when he or she doesn’t like ti because I am getting the feeling that somebody is trying to piss me off by erasing my testimonials one by one!

isn’t it funny…i had the same experience two years ago when all my testimonials where erase which was the reason why I had a fight with my ex which was my boyfriend at that time..

who is this testimonila janitor anyway and he seems to be so romaniticized ..h’s so mysterious I could grab his hands and scrape of the skin of his fingers one by one and put salt in it!!

memories are traces of tears

- 2046-

memories are good if we do not have to deal with the pass

-before sunset-

However happy we may be in the present, at an instant, we always come across with the things in the pass. and this pass memories always bother us. at an instant, we always get to miss the aura of things and the feeling then when we still walk on the corridors of that timeline…

Is it because some part of us want to be in that corridor again or is it just because we had things not fairly painted and badly connected at that moment?

And the chances of unpainting that moment are small and this is the reason why keep on unburying it..because men always try to keep a perfect moment..but if a moment ends in either an instant or ends badly..we have the urge to perfect it..

but then we never get to unpaint it because time machine are not invented yet..so we just have to deal with the time machine available and these are our memories and the inevitable power of men to choose whether to forget them or rearranged them in the way we want it to be….

if I were to calculate your through integral calculus, the problem would go this way…

suppose that your brain in a shape of a sphere having fluids with a mass density of Pkg/m, calculate the work done to improve your information skills to a hundred percent, because you suck at that,…

I had just finishthe first part of my integral calculus exam and my god, all my brain cells were dripping from my ears even if it was just to calculate a stupid work done to raise a stupid water wtih a certain mass density, etc, etc..