Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
Arvs
"Even I don't think me and Chen can be like you and Aiza were"
My sister has always been a strong believer in me and Aiza's friendship. She's watched us for five years love each other, hate each other, miss each other. She's witnessed the best and the worst of us and to this day, she frequently tells me that Aiz is that one friend. She'll always be that best friend to me whether I choose to or not, whether I admit it or not. She tells me that, reminds me every day. She says we're the ultimate. We're like white people together. Yenno, like..white people best friends. It's ultimate. Like Kelly and Erica, or Hannah and Amy, she said. Aha it was a strange reference, but made somewhat of sense to me.
The way she loves Aiz is the best thing to see. She even said herself that she would want to be Aiz's sister. She'd bake Aiz cookies forever if she could, and let her break the nail polish rule, and be good to her and take care of her like I'd want her to be. It's an endearing way of loving someone. She looks up to her, sees her as a role model. She solidly believes that Aiza is one of the best people she knows, that we know.
I like the way RV sees us. She sees the best in us. She recollects our endless laughter, cherishes all our good times, just like we cherish it. Actually, she just sees the best in people, period. It's a good quality that helps me out.
Like I always said, RV's judgments on people in my life are based on my happiness, my well-being. If she feels that someone isn't good for me or to me, she'll sense it.
RV and Aiz, good people I have. And they love each other very, very much.
The way she loves Aiz is the best thing to see. She even said herself that she would want to be Aiz's sister. She'd bake Aiz cookies forever if she could, and let her break the nail polish rule, and be good to her and take care of her like I'd want her to be. It's an endearing way of loving someone. She looks up to her, sees her as a role model. She solidly believes that Aiza is one of the best people she knows, that we know.
I like the way RV sees us. She sees the best in us. She recollects our endless laughter, cherishes all our good times, just like we cherish it. Actually, she just sees the best in people, period. It's a good quality that helps me out.
Like I always said, RV's judgments on people in my life are based on my happiness, my well-being. If she feels that someone isn't good for me or to me, she'll sense it.
RV and Aiz, good people I have. And they love each other very, very much.
1:29am, cottonheaded nini muggins
Dear You,
I know she can be mean. She can be a handful. And she'll say things with out worrying about your feelings. She takes after me in that way. But don't worry. Her tough love is just a thin shell. She's in love.
Dear You,
Thank you for consistently asking how my day was once it's late like this. You're always so sincere. I love it about you, I do.
Dear You,
You're my bestfriend, and I miss you, but it's like you're never down to spend some quality time. Distant all summer, what a sad thought to think about at night..
Dear You,
And I thought you knew me well enough, or trusted me enough. But it's OK. It's coo.
Dear You,
You're a pretty cool kid. And you're good to her and she loves you so much so, that makes me happy. It makes me happy that there are people like you two together that work so well. Envious sometimes.
Dear You,
I'd skin you alive. Squeeze lemon juice on every inch of your body. Hear and watch you cry. FUCK YOU!
Dear You,
You're a piece of shit too.
Dear You,
You're the best person I know and will always be. I will always know this until the day I die. I love you so much. I wish you knew that..
Dear You,
Thank you for consistently asking how my day was once it's late like this. You're always so sincere. I love it about you, I do.
Dear You,
You're my bestfriend, and I miss you, but it's like you're never down to spend some quality time. Distant all summer, what a sad thought to think about at night..
Dear You,
And I thought you knew me well enough, or trusted me enough. But it's OK. It's coo.
Dear You,
You're a pretty cool kid. And you're good to her and she loves you so much so, that makes me happy. It makes me happy that there are people like you two together that work so well. Envious sometimes.
Dear You,
I'd skin you alive. Squeeze lemon juice on every inch of your body. Hear and watch you cry. FUCK YOU!
Dear You,
You're a piece of shit too.
Dear You,
You're the best person I know and will always be. I will always know this until the day I die. I love you so much. I wish you knew that..
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Things I want and WILL do soon
- Build a fort!
- Have a pasta picnic
- Stargazing
- Sunol afterhours
- 'Club Breakfast' morning
- Swimming afterhours
ASDFJKL;LMAO
Me: Cleveland is that. Cleveland is the the. Cleveland is the reason I'm coooooool
You: Cleveland is the black guy in family guy..
You: Cleveland is the black guy in family guy..
Home
I have been at home for two days. Haven't stepped out ...at all. Not even for some sunshine. I thought it'd be a good idea to stay in for a few, catch up with some home feelin'.
But as my blog can tell you, I'm bored. I AM BORED.
But it is alright. Because tomorrow will be another day. And tomorrow, I will be out and about.
And things are settling. I am alright. As long as I stop thinking about how angry I am, then I am completely alright.
But as my blog can tell you, I'm bored. I AM BORED.
But it is alright. Because tomorrow will be another day. And tomorrow, I will be out and about.
And things are settling. I am alright. As long as I stop thinking about how angry I am, then I am completely alright.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Priorities
- Family first
- _______
- _______
- _______
- _______
- _______
PS. Always remember that.
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you
- Injustice
- Adultery
- Disloyalty
- Cruelty
- Dumb Bitchassness
Give me malice
Mom says choose your friends wisely. Never put too much trust in someone who isn't your blood. Usually I'd disagree to this. But I am now convinced otherwise.
Today may be the angriest I've been for as long as I can remember. It's building. It's brewing, and I'm searing. My thoughts are boiling. My hands are shaking. My heart is racing. My face is flushed, burnt red--I can feel it. This is the part in the movie when someone punches a gaping hole through the wall, curse like a madman, and forget how to flinch at all.
If I could, I'd grab you with both hands at your throat.
If I could, I'd make sure that you suffer the pain that you deserve and more. And if I'd ever believed that wishing pain upon someone was wrong, then I'm taking all words and spit it back to your face.
If I could, I'd do what it to takes, go completely out of my way, just to make sure that you've paid what you owe. I'd make sure every single tear shed, and every ounce of ridicule and embarrassment and humiliation would come back to you, where you'll face the wounds, put it on yourself.. then salt them.
FUCK YOU.
Today may be the angriest I've been for as long as I can remember. It's building. It's brewing, and I'm searing. My thoughts are boiling. My hands are shaking. My heart is racing. My face is flushed, burnt red--I can feel it. This is the part in the movie when someone punches a gaping hole through the wall, curse like a madman, and forget how to flinch at all.
If I could, I'd grab you with both hands at your throat.
If I could, I'd make sure that you suffer the pain that you deserve and more. And if I'd ever believed that wishing pain upon someone was wrong, then I'm taking all words and spit it back to your face.
If I could, I'd do what it to takes, go completely out of my way, just to make sure that you've paid what you owe. I'd make sure every single tear shed, and every ounce of ridicule and embarrassment and humiliation would come back to you, where you'll face the wounds, put it on yourself.. then salt them.
FUCK YOU.
The Concept of Crying
I'll always have my most concerned friends tell me it's OK to cry. It's OK to be sad. It's OK to be angry. It's OK to feel. It's OK because you're alive.
Well, I'm sure Tay and Aiz will be pleased (not exactly, since it's not a positive idea) that tonight is the night that I shed the tears of summer. (My parents really set me of)
I've always hated crying. I hated the beginning of a cry. The downturn, quivering of the lips. The stinging of the eyes. The tidal waves in the chest. I loathe even the thought of me crying. But I know, I know, it's good for me.
When I do cry, and I get passed the falling tears, irritating sniffling, and inconsistent breathing, and I finally find a grip on just one single thought, then the end isn't so bad. It's relieving actually. I usually space out. Think about what's next, or not think at all. Then I wipe the tears till my eyes sting dry and get a hold of my running nose. After, I just sit still. Or lay still. And my breathing continues steadier.
I usually end up glassy-eyed. And laying there, feeling relieved reminds me of being little. When I used to cry as a kid. And if it's because I'd fallen and scraped my knees, my mom would let me lay my head on her lap and she'd play with my hair until the hiccuping of my cries would stop. My granma did the same. Sometimes, they'd sing to me. Or tell me, "It's ok, it's ok.. Shhhh, it's fine" and continue calming me down. Every time I'm calming down, that's the feeling I remember. And things start to lift from my chest and it's easier to think.
Except tonight, I'm alone. Completely alone in my room.
But I think I'm alright now.
Well, I'm sure Tay and Aiz will be pleased (not exactly, since it's not a positive idea) that tonight is the night that I shed the tears of summer. (My parents really set me of)
I've always hated crying. I hated the beginning of a cry. The downturn, quivering of the lips. The stinging of the eyes. The tidal waves in the chest. I loathe even the thought of me crying. But I know, I know, it's good for me.
When I do cry, and I get passed the falling tears, irritating sniffling, and inconsistent breathing, and I finally find a grip on just one single thought, then the end isn't so bad. It's relieving actually. I usually space out. Think about what's next, or not think at all. Then I wipe the tears till my eyes sting dry and get a hold of my running nose. After, I just sit still. Or lay still. And my breathing continues steadier.
I usually end up glassy-eyed. And laying there, feeling relieved reminds me of being little. When I used to cry as a kid. And if it's because I'd fallen and scraped my knees, my mom would let me lay my head on her lap and she'd play with my hair until the hiccuping of my cries would stop. My granma did the same. Sometimes, they'd sing to me. Or tell me, "It's ok, it's ok.. Shhhh, it's fine" and continue calming me down. Every time I'm calming down, that's the feeling I remember. And things start to lift from my chest and it's easier to think.
Except tonight, I'm alone. Completely alone in my room.
But I think I'm alright now.
It never falls apart with out everything else falling apart
The night that I decide to let myself feel the heaviness of the falling out between my best friend and I, everything else goes down with it. Comme toujours, so this shouldn't have been a surprise.
Dear Dad,
Maybe I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time tonight. And maybe you just needed to cool off some steam from all the stress that you have now clearly yelled to me. But I need to let this out. I needed to have a word in too. It hurts.
I'm not your disrespectful 18-year old daughter. I'm not throwing my life away carelessly, or inconsiderately disregarding my family. I am clueless. You and mom, you two keep everything to each other. All our problems, all our plans, anything that the entire family should know about, you keep it between the two of you. And when worse comes to worst, I refuse to be the punching bag. We refuse to be the punching bag. Just like we refuse to be the statues of this house.
You never tell us anything. ANYTHING. And you expect us to have the respectful, proper, thoughtful reaction that good children have. But what reaction can you expect when you shut all of us out when it comes to the worst?
Remember all the times when we were younger, and every time we were going to move, we found out a few days before? A day before? You started packing things up and expected us to follow along every time our lives were to change. I remember that. In the Philippines. We just started going to big buildings all of a sudden, waiting in endless lines, with paperwork in your hands. And before we knew it, you said we were leaving for the U.S. Then I remember being here and I remember finally getting comfortable in one of our previous homes here. And once again, you packed up, and expected us to follow. Then it happened again, and one more time. But not once, not once did you ever sit us down to tell us that our lives were going to have to change.
Remember when mom was sick? Remember how neither of you informed us about it? How you expected us to know how to be with out us knowing what you even wanted us to be. Remember how I found out? Well, I don't think you do. You threw it out there like it didn't matter whether we knew or not. You shrugged it towards our way, didn't acknowledge our reactions towards it. I cried my nights, I cried to my best friend. And she helped me up when I couldn't stand the devastating news. Like always, you just kept us out. You couldn't even sit us down to tell us that our mother's life was at risk?
Remember last year when mom lost the baby? Remember how you didn't even TELL us that she was pregnant. How you made Blithe guess and guess and made him run around like a monkey, hungry for news when you finally dropped clues for us. Remember that? Remember how you just left one day, and didn't tell us why? How you came home, and mom was crying and that was it for us to know. You couldn't even sit us down to tell us that we'd lost what could have been our brother?
And every time, every time the heat filled you to the brim, you explode at me, at us. You finally tell us what we're doing wrong. To feel. To care what's going on with our family. And we sit there, and we take it because we never know how to respond. So we get angry, and we resent you, and we keep it to ourselves because we don't know where to put it. And just like that, everyone in the house learned how to avoid one another. And we never tell each other anything and we can never talk about anything. And you'll yell at us and we don't know where you're coming from. And we rebel and you don't know where we're coming from. And nobody knows anything because our parents taught us to keep it in. To keep it all inside.
You just didn't teach us the part when you can't take it anymore. You didn't teach us how to be when everything you've been holding in blows up in your face. And you're left there with a mess. And we won't cry. And we won't talk about it. And we won't accept the fact that it blew up. We just leave it. We move pass it. We pretend like it never happened.
And now we're here again, another season, another problem. You're not telling us a word again, and we're never home again. And it's exactly the same thing. And we're all angry but we're all so quiet. No one is saying anything.
What's the next step dad? What do we do now?
I'm not your disrespectful 18-year old daughter. I'm not throwing my life away carelessly, or inconsiderately disregarding my family. I am clueless. You and mom, you two keep everything to each other. All our problems, all our plans, anything that the entire family should know about, you keep it between the two of you. And when worse comes to worst, I refuse to be the punching bag. We refuse to be the punching bag. Just like we refuse to be the statues of this house.
You never tell us anything. ANYTHING. And you expect us to have the respectful, proper, thoughtful reaction that good children have. But what reaction can you expect when you shut all of us out when it comes to the worst?
Remember all the times when we were younger, and every time we were going to move, we found out a few days before? A day before? You started packing things up and expected us to follow along every time our lives were to change. I remember that. In the Philippines. We just started going to big buildings all of a sudden, waiting in endless lines, with paperwork in your hands. And before we knew it, you said we were leaving for the U.S. Then I remember being here and I remember finally getting comfortable in one of our previous homes here. And once again, you packed up, and expected us to follow. Then it happened again, and one more time. But not once, not once did you ever sit us down to tell us that our lives were going to have to change.
Remember when mom was sick? Remember how neither of you informed us about it? How you expected us to know how to be with out us knowing what you even wanted us to be. Remember how I found out? Well, I don't think you do. You threw it out there like it didn't matter whether we knew or not. You shrugged it towards our way, didn't acknowledge our reactions towards it. I cried my nights, I cried to my best friend. And she helped me up when I couldn't stand the devastating news. Like always, you just kept us out. You couldn't even sit us down to tell us that our mother's life was at risk?
Remember last year when mom lost the baby? Remember how you didn't even TELL us that she was pregnant. How you made Blithe guess and guess and made him run around like a monkey, hungry for news when you finally dropped clues for us. Remember that? Remember how you just left one day, and didn't tell us why? How you came home, and mom was crying and that was it for us to know. You couldn't even sit us down to tell us that we'd lost what could have been our brother?
And every time, every time the heat filled you to the brim, you explode at me, at us. You finally tell us what we're doing wrong. To feel. To care what's going on with our family. And we sit there, and we take it because we never know how to respond. So we get angry, and we resent you, and we keep it to ourselves because we don't know where to put it. And just like that, everyone in the house learned how to avoid one another. And we never tell each other anything and we can never talk about anything. And you'll yell at us and we don't know where you're coming from. And we rebel and you don't know where we're coming from. And nobody knows anything because our parents taught us to keep it in. To keep it all inside.
You just didn't teach us the part when you can't take it anymore. You didn't teach us how to be when everything you've been holding in blows up in your face. And you're left there with a mess. And we won't cry. And we won't talk about it. And we won't accept the fact that it blew up. We just leave it. We move pass it. We pretend like it never happened.
And now we're here again, another season, another problem. You're not telling us a word again, and we're never home again. And it's exactly the same thing. And we're all angry but we're all so quiet. No one is saying anything.
What's the next step dad? What do we do now?
Signed,
Your 18 year-old daughter
Your 18 year-old daughter
Friday, August 6, 2010
The very few things about summer that make me sad
I wish I didn't prove myself right. I wish I was wrong. I wish this was easier, I wish we could just be the way we were. As amazing as this summer is, I miss last summer because I miss you. I miss having fun with you, and missing you when I don't see you for a few days. I miss when we could promise each other the world. When it was us against the world. I miss getting excited when we hear the ice cream truck, when we have best friends' night with my RV and Chen, when we adventured, just us. Just best friends. I miss last summer because of you. I miss when I was part of your happiness. When you wanted happiness with me. When you cared and tried a little more. When we couldn't go a day with out texting. When you used to call me just to tell me something trivial that happened to you, or when you felt sad at night, or when we even actually even greeted each other. When we used to be so proud to be each other's best friend..
I wish we weren't both so OK. It's like we never needed each other. Like all the fights were empty because it is what it is. I'm fine with out you like you're fine with out me. I wish we were both torn enough to try and make things work. To be best friends again. But I'm exhausted beyond words and like you said you'll never be the person you once were. And maybe one day it will be ok. But I'm not feeling optimistic tonight, just like every other night since we fell apart. But it's alright, because we're both alright.
It's just one of those nights. One of those nights when I allow myself to think about sad things. And I'm not bitter and I'm not shattered. But tonight, I just feel the sadness. The aftertaste of everything we dropped and left behind in the dust.
I can't even remember the last time we were happy together.. and that alone could keep me up at night...
I wish we weren't both so OK. It's like we never needed each other. Like all the fights were empty because it is what it is. I'm fine with out you like you're fine with out me. I wish we were both torn enough to try and make things work. To be best friends again. But I'm exhausted beyond words and like you said you'll never be the person you once were. And maybe one day it will be ok. But I'm not feeling optimistic tonight, just like every other night since we fell apart. But it's alright, because we're both alright.
It's just one of those nights. One of those nights when I allow myself to think about sad things. And I'm not bitter and I'm not shattered. But tonight, I just feel the sadness. The aftertaste of everything we dropped and left behind in the dust.
I can't even remember the last time we were happy together.. and that alone could keep me up at night...
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