Prose and Cones

Silence has always been our mode of communication, my dad and I. Up until the last moments of his life, I chose silence and tears over using words to tell him how I feel, how I want him to stay strong and hold on for dear life. But as always, I chose to stay in the corner of his hospital room and cry in silence. 

He never said anything about my silence. Instead he chose to ask quietly, gently, without fail if I was hungry, what I wanted to eat. That was how he made up for both of our lack of penchant for words. If silence was was one of the things that is considered a love language, it would definitely be ours, my dad and I. He never said anything about my silence, but I can only hope that when he was alive, it translated to my peace instead of indifference. I can only hope my silence was not a burden because god knows he had enough on his plate already. 

i. I wish self-love is advertised as much as products deemed to restore it, as much that it wouldn’t be needed to restore anymore. Products purposely made to make your skin a little bit fairer, your hair a little bit shinier, your weight a little bit lighter. I wish this thing called self-love is a little bit easier.

ii. I wish people didn’t put so much emphasis on external beauty that it is the first thing on the list of thinking someone is valuable. A person’s value is not earned rather it is something they possess the moment they were born and nobody is to make them feel otherwise. I wish people realized that they are gold, not because they are valued based on their attributes but because they are an element of their own.

There comes a point when all you want to do is lie down and bawl your eyes out. 

Emotional breakdowns aren’t new to me

 truth. 

But I almost almost forgot how it feels to be so helplessly weighed down by my emotions.

another truth.

 After a few months of complacency and steadiness, I thought I was finally the master of my emotions.

lie. 

Exhausted- yes I was. I still am. I don’t know why but I don’t see an end to me being in this state. The tiredness must be the one that triggered it all, along with being so pissed off about certain things. Like not being able to stand up to people and always thinking about their feelings first before mine. Here I was being treated so small but I still put into consideration how my voice should be, should sound like so it wouldn’t take up space and swallow them. 

With fingers slamming the keyboard and my mouth muttering words out of spite, I knew my emotions are getting the best of me again. I wish I could’ve been all alone in my room at home crying my heart out on the floor but I had to make do with the bathroom. This is one of the things I hate about living far away from home-not being able to enjoy the comfort of my own room during my emotional outbursts. The tears are coming fast and I had to rush or else my roommates will see.

I don’t want them to see. 

In the bathroom I was alone surrounded by green tiles, one blue pail and two blue basins- one of which is holding my laundry. A funny sight that is- me all alone in the bathroom, the toilet as my backdrop and sobbing while washing my own clothes. The water pouring from the faucet did well in drowning my already inaudible monologue. I let the tears out hoping they’d drown my resentment too. 

They did.

As I scroll my drafts hoping I might find something worthwhile to post, I found this.

A bit of a backstory- this is a picture I took around June or July, 2015 and on my last year of Junior High. I took this while me and my fellow CSC officers were at the administrators’ office waiting for papers to be signed.

Originally, i was going to post this picture with a caption that goes like

There is something poignant and nostalgic with high school uniforms. Because of the one with paint stains, the other with ink stains, and that one with the dried tears.

I wrote that thinking of my transition to Senior High but I never thought that today, I will have the pleasure to deeply connect with what I wrote way, way back. Right now as I am writing this, I am in my dorm near school wearing my PE uniform and indeed as I saw this picture I am both swept away by the memories attached to my previous uniform and showered with a wave of sadness as I reminisce those times.

I remember when one of my skirts got spilled all over with blue paint and how I tried to get all of it off with my hands by the faucet near our room and how someone close by from another section offered me her handkerchief to help. I remember feeling extreme gratitude then because she and I were barely close but she offered her handkerchief and her help without a dose of hesitation.I remember that I wouldn’t go away from my desk without a pen in hand or in my pocket, during free time when I am not chatting with some friends or reading, I would be writing nonsense on any piece of scratch paper I could find. But most of all I remember the first time I cried wearing that uniform and the many times that followed. Those moments were some of the reasons that made my Junior high school so memorable and they might be tucked away deep into the corners of my mind but they will never be forgotten.

First, I’m sorry if I addressed you by your names you refused to be called but allow me to explain myself.

The conversation we had was deeply touching, I’m not sure whether it was because we were under the stars while talking and was in a state I could only describe as tranquil; The centuries old building in front us maybe had an effect too.

Last night we shared intimate intimate facts about ourselves, things we were too afraid to tell others, sentiments that we keep bottled up inside and by I wanted to preserve that by addressing you your names people don’t usually call you.

Thank you for trusting me to listen and I apologize for not opening up that much, I figured that you both have a lot bottled up inside, especially you Simon that I figured it is better to open my ears instead of my mouth. I did that because I know the feeling that sometimes you just want people to listen and not talk because you just have to release every pent up emotion or else you will explode.

To both of you, I hope that what I did was what you wanted of me- to listen and I that to not tell you that everything will be alright because that is not how you feel at that moment.

I have been experiencing a lot of exciting things lately and I wish I could say that that is a reason for me to write more but the things is, I could only make up excuses not to. Somehow that made me think that during the times that I could describe my life as being nothing but dull and boring are the times when I had more or at least some things to write about. I have on the edge lately as I desperately want to write my heart out but I don’t find the right words and the proper subject to be able to do so.

An afternoon of giddiness, from commuting to an unfamiliar location to geeking out with finally seeing the paintings I only used to read about.

It was my second time to visit the museum but it was the first I could actually enjoy and appreciate everything in it. I could not have chosen a better way to unwind from the stress that constellated from taking exams four days in a row. We weren’t able to roam the entire place due to time restraints but we made it a point to be back.

I am not a pretty girl. In the basic sense of the word pretty, I am miles away from its definition. I do not have the stereotypical qualities of what you would call a pretty girl- long and silky hair, plump pink lips, innocent round eyes, a pointy nose. Nor do i have distinct features that will make me stand out in a crowd and people will call pretty. In a sea of people I neither blend in nor stand out because I merely melt away within the shadows and sheltered away from each and everyone’s judging eyes.

But if you’ll ask me if I wanted to be called a pretty girl- the answer would be yes, I would be lying if I deny it and I would not deprive myself of wishing to be the pretty girl even for just a fraction of a second. But I do not just want to be called a pretty girl- I wanted to be more than that, to be someone more than pretty. And although I tell myself it’s okay not to be pretty I think I am merely saying that to compensate for the fact that I am not one. The more I tell this to myself, the more the words become blurred out and eventually fade into nothing. I have been repeating this to myself way too many times that I’ve started to become immune to its moral and what I only perceive is an incoherent slur of sounds and an abstract image that makes your eyes strained is what come to mind.

young and sweet only 17 ~~~

In honor of turning seventeen 2 weeks ago, here is a playlist I found on Spotify about turning 17 ; https://open.spotify.com/user/observerscene/playlist/6ToJVgQ6S9higOhnnOGA1s

I originally meant to make my own playlist but I guess life got in the way, again. And I was about to make this a sort of a life update too because a lot has been happening with it lately but as I was typing it, it didn’t feel right and I realized my blog is not for that sort of thing lol. My blog is exclusively for my rambles and whatnot, those that I am way too eager to release out of my mind but too reluctant to tell people and there’e the irony in that because by sharing it here I am basically opening up to the whole world.

But anyway, with getting yet another year older I realized one thing (realizations and reflections seem to be a birthday tradition for me now) and that is that my life is changing. It doesn’t feel like it when I go through it day to day but if I look at it far away, in a bigger picture, it is indeed changing. Last year I celebrated my birthday in my hometown and I remember going to school with my classmates greeting me but this year I celebrated it in a city 3 hours away from home. I woke up to a note from my cousins and the usual facebook greetings. For the first time in my life I spent my birthday without my family and also that it was the first time my birthday fell on a vacation yay for the academic calendar shift. Although I am in no way complaining, in fact I am thankful because this is what I wanted and more than that, this change in environment, in a way of life is what I yearned for all these years. Perhaps writing about it is my way to cope up with all these changes recently. One thing I despise about this change though, is that I miss my friends, badly and trying to make new friends is difficult when you’re terribly shy.

In other news, classes officially started yesterday and my classmates seem nice enough- they even sang me Happy birthday during the introduction and that was polite but it only made me more nervous while I was in front lol. I was looking forward to meeting them today but classes got suspended (in the 2nd day!! can you believe that??) 

It has been a little over a year since I decided to turn this blog upside down and transform it into something where I can just share my thoughts and ramblings, kind of like an outlet for the things that would bother my mind for days until I let them out.

While there haven’t been anything completely life-changing that happened within the past year since my first entry; I am glad to say that there have been pretty momentous events that transpired. Most of them I’ve shared in this blog and some that I weren’t able to simply out of my laziness. None of them were really grand but hey it’s just a matter of how you look at it.

Needless to say, what I’ve mentioned in my how-do-you-describe-yourself entry still holds to be true- to a certain degree that is. I am still that shy awkward girl swathed in anxiety who desperately wished to be a better, bolder version of herself and while I am still in the process of building a better me I can say with confidence that I am a more learned version of that girl. An entire year has passed that enabled me to absorb and be aware of social issues or simply with what is happening with the world. And though I still may not know everything I am more than happy and grateful to learn and impart my knowledge. I am blessed to be surrounded with people- friends whose eyes are open to the reality of the world and are also open to discuss them.

a book review, perhaps?

I finished my first Nicholas Sparks book last night, so in honor of me finally doing something (sort of) productive in my four-month summer vacation, here’s a (another sort of) book review and tumblr post. *pats self on the back

It was a love story alright, in fact it was the perfect summer love story when you look at it in all the right angles. But no it was not just some romantic love story about two teens who fell in love with each other on the beach, it was also a story about how a typical rebellious teen rekindled her relationship and love she’s been trying to push back for her father, who in the worst way fate can be- is also dying.

Of course, you might have watched the movie adaptation already. Afterall it was starred in by none other than Miley Cyrus, who’s every teen in my generation’s childhood hero and who misses a movie adaptation of a Nicholas Sparks book anyway? Let me just say that the movie doesn’t give justice to the book. Although the book was written in an omniscient point-of-view, you wouldn’t have any problem following its storyline. It was also written simply that you wouldn’t have a hard time knowing what is going on with the characters’ heads. The earlier parts focus on Ronnie and Will’s budding relationship and love story but the latter parts focus on Ronnie and her dad, Steve’s rekindled love which will get you sappy.

6 April 2016. Undeniably a day well spent with people whom are very dear to me. 

Surprisingly for me, I wasn’t as disappointed as I always was whenever I found out I haven’t taken enough pictures of a good day. These photos would never compensate for the great time I had with them.