Tuesday, November 11, 2003
I have been so bitchy recently that the universe has decided to teach me a lesson. I was griping about my friends not caring for me anymore, and so there...
my officemates came in late from lunch, toting a giant red-and-gold parcel, a gift for my wedding on sunday. I am now so SHY!!! eeeep.
my officemates came in late from lunch, toting a giant red-and-gold parcel, a gift for my wedding on sunday. I am now so SHY!!! eeeep.
Monday, November 10, 2003
Methinks ´tis strange you can´t afford
One pitying look, one parting word;
HUMANITY claims this as due,
But what is HUMANITY to you?
--Elizabeth Thomas
I decided that I should write in this blog more often. It beats ranting in a yahoogroup or on a message board. Here you can say what you want to say, consequences be damned.
The above poem is for my ex, who, after I loved her for more than a year, left me to go to Taiwan with a promise to return. Instead, she broke up with me by writing me a four-sentence email, after less than a month of being there. Even then it wouldn't have been so bad, if only I hadn't found out that she was exchanging "i love yous" with her UNDERAGED ex, that her now gf was not stationed in Taiwan (that would be understandable, perhaps she was not LDR material) but here, where I am.
It's been more than a year... I'm sure there are people shaking their heads and muttering "get over it". I am over her... I'm happily engaged, to be married this Sunday. But I still seethe at the way she left me. To rub salt into the wounds of my pride, she now treats me like I don't exist, like we were never even friends or org mates, like she's afraid I have some deadly virus or that I'll stalk her forever. Good lord, if I had been that vindictive I could have easily told her ex's mom about them, i could tell the place where she works that she's a dyke, i could have told them (and given solid proof) that she had an affair with... well. I could have, but I didn't, did I? I have my principles intact.
Get this - it's not so much that she left, it's that she did it in a way that majorly violated my sense of right and wrong. It's really ironic, since so much of that is gray area, that she touched on one of the very few black-and-white spots. I FEEL WRONGED. It all boils down to "I understand that you were away, but you could have given me a decent goodbye when you came back, handled it with more grace, and shown me that I was, at the very very least, a good lay. You could have said 'it's over' and shook my hand, and it would have been alright."
I also feel taken advantage of. She lived with me and my family during that year, and we fed her, took care of her. I want to kick myself all around the continent for being the target of such freeloading. Not that I minded at the time, but if I had known what an INGRATE that woman was, I would have broken it off immediately. Not even a word of thanks. Not even the decency to say she was sorry. NOTHING. And I never saw it coming.
Spineless. Inhuman. Bastos. Cheat. Whatever happened to face-to-face farewells, or even voice-to-voice? So what if technology makes it easier. Fuck technology. It's just plain WRONG.
To ex: I deserve more, you bloody piece of spineless vomit of the offspring of a monkey's slave and her master.
One pitying look, one parting word;
HUMANITY claims this as due,
But what is HUMANITY to you?
--Elizabeth Thomas
I decided that I should write in this blog more often. It beats ranting in a yahoogroup or on a message board. Here you can say what you want to say, consequences be damned.
The above poem is for my ex, who, after I loved her for more than a year, left me to go to Taiwan with a promise to return. Instead, she broke up with me by writing me a four-sentence email, after less than a month of being there. Even then it wouldn't have been so bad, if only I hadn't found out that she was exchanging "i love yous" with her UNDERAGED ex, that her now gf was not stationed in Taiwan (that would be understandable, perhaps she was not LDR material) but here, where I am.
It's been more than a year... I'm sure there are people shaking their heads and muttering "get over it". I am over her... I'm happily engaged, to be married this Sunday. But I still seethe at the way she left me. To rub salt into the wounds of my pride, she now treats me like I don't exist, like we were never even friends or org mates, like she's afraid I have some deadly virus or that I'll stalk her forever. Good lord, if I had been that vindictive I could have easily told her ex's mom about them, i could tell the place where she works that she's a dyke, i could have told them (and given solid proof) that she had an affair with... well. I could have, but I didn't, did I? I have my principles intact.
Get this - it's not so much that she left, it's that she did it in a way that majorly violated my sense of right and wrong. It's really ironic, since so much of that is gray area, that she touched on one of the very few black-and-white spots. I FEEL WRONGED. It all boils down to "I understand that you were away, but you could have given me a decent goodbye when you came back, handled it with more grace, and shown me that I was, at the very very least, a good lay. You could have said 'it's over' and shook my hand, and it would have been alright."
I also feel taken advantage of. She lived with me and my family during that year, and we fed her, took care of her. I want to kick myself all around the continent for being the target of such freeloading. Not that I minded at the time, but if I had known what an INGRATE that woman was, I would have broken it off immediately. Not even a word of thanks. Not even the decency to say she was sorry. NOTHING. And I never saw it coming.
Spineless. Inhuman. Bastos. Cheat. Whatever happened to face-to-face farewells, or even voice-to-voice? So what if technology makes it easier. Fuck technology. It's just plain WRONG.
To ex: I deserve more, you bloody piece of spineless vomit of the offspring of a monkey's slave and her master.
Friday, October 17, 2003
It has been forever since i wrote here. I'm getting married in less than a month, I have gone corpy, and am tense. I return to find that i cannot access the damn archives. shit.
Monday, August 11, 2003
Tuesday, May 20, 2003
Take my Quiz on QuizYourFriends.com!
take my quiz!!!
by the way, i got into dlsu. thanks for those who rooted for me, and for those who didn't... BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! IN YOUR FACE!!!!
take my quiz!!!
by the way, i got into dlsu. thanks for those who rooted for me, and for those who didn't... BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! IN YOUR FACE!!!!
Friday, May 09, 2003
The other day I sat in a little office waiting judgment, having submitted myself to the critical eye of an academic institution so that I could further study the craft that has impassioned me from childhood. The woman across me was internationally recognized, and was easily one of the most brilliant minds in Philippine literature. She was pleasant, and she smiled a lot, but the words she said sent chills running up and down my spine.
“you see, not everyone who thinks that they can write are actually writers”.
I think I just nodded. In my head, I was stammering “but… but… but I’ve always been a writer! I don’t know what I’d be without my writing!”
“and after 18 units, we will sit down and evaluate you, to see whether you can write or not.”
“Whaaaaat?!?!?!” went the incredulous voice in my head. “I mean, I may not be anywhere near as good as you, but … I can write… at least… I think I can, but then again I’m not you, and maybe you know better, but I’ve lived a lifetime in my words… and if you take that away from me, what will happen to me?”
I wasn’t even talking and I was going in circles. By the time the interview cum orientation was over I was just about ready to throw in the towel and burst into tears.
Of course everyone tried to assure me I’d make it into the program, that I’ve always shown potential and that at the very least, I’d make a pretty good journalist. But it’s been more than 24 hours and my tears are still there.
I’ll let you in on a little secret. In the back of my mind, I think that they might be right. And I’m afraid I won’t be able to stand it if they were to decide I didn’t have what it takes, that my soul was devoid of the fire and art that it took to make writers.
It will be like waking up one morning and not knowing who I am.
I have always been a writer, a student of the written language. What happens to me if they told me I had been deluding myself? Was I? Are they right? Am I?
Right now, all I am is terrified.
“you see, not everyone who thinks that they can write are actually writers”.
I think I just nodded. In my head, I was stammering “but… but… but I’ve always been a writer! I don’t know what I’d be without my writing!”
“and after 18 units, we will sit down and evaluate you, to see whether you can write or not.”
“Whaaaaat?!?!?!” went the incredulous voice in my head. “I mean, I may not be anywhere near as good as you, but … I can write… at least… I think I can, but then again I’m not you, and maybe you know better, but I’ve lived a lifetime in my words… and if you take that away from me, what will happen to me?”
I wasn’t even talking and I was going in circles. By the time the interview cum orientation was over I was just about ready to throw in the towel and burst into tears.
Of course everyone tried to assure me I’d make it into the program, that I’ve always shown potential and that at the very least, I’d make a pretty good journalist. But it’s been more than 24 hours and my tears are still there.
I’ll let you in on a little secret. In the back of my mind, I think that they might be right. And I’m afraid I won’t be able to stand it if they were to decide I didn’t have what it takes, that my soul was devoid of the fire and art that it took to make writers.
It will be like waking up one morning and not knowing who I am.
I have always been a writer, a student of the written language. What happens to me if they told me I had been deluding myself? Was I? Are they right? Am I?
Right now, all I am is terrified.
Wednesday, May 07, 2003
I thought I was not moving because I was depressed. Turns out that I was depressed because things aren't moving.
My bad - too often I am caught in contemplation and i don't pay attention to the fact that I can actually do something about being static. Paralysis by analysis. I forget how much happier I am with action, because there is this nagging voice in my head that every step I take should be correct... but since I'm the one taking them, there is no possible way that they can be. I have been trying forever to exorsice these voices, grabbing up laurels to fend them off, but to no avail. I guess these are demons I'll have to live with.
My bad - too often I am caught in contemplation and i don't pay attention to the fact that I can actually do something about being static. Paralysis by analysis. I forget how much happier I am with action, because there is this nagging voice in my head that every step I take should be correct... but since I'm the one taking them, there is no possible way that they can be. I have been trying forever to exorsice these voices, grabbing up laurels to fend them off, but to no avail. I guess these are demons I'll have to live with.
