Why I said good bye to high school…

It’s been five years now since I left that place. And since I left it, I never dared to look back. I don’t have any contact with my old high school pals anymore even those I claimed to be my best friends. Maybe some of them ended up in my Facebook, we don’t chat up or even talk often. It’s all in the comments and likes now.

Far from the memories I once held so precious to me. And I think they have forgotten me too. But it’s not like I hate them or the school. Perhaps it’s that change that comes to people as they grow, like breaking through puberty. There has been this big change which caused the gap even more. Change of interest, change of schedule, change of mind and/or a change of heart.

All I know is that I’ve changed. And I have refused to acknowledge that past ever since. I question myself about it once in a while but up to know I don’t have the exact answer to this either: Is it because I’ve hated my weak self on those days that I turned my back?

Nine years ago, I was a Nobody. But I’ve met an amazing set of people that I’ve intentionally forgotten except one. I’m not the friendly type or the charming speaker. I’m not one of those cool kids or the brainiacs. I belonged to none actually, just my one circle of friends who were average as me.

High school was a change from my elem days too. I became an honor student but still that same nobody. I seldom interact with people. I may count myself annoying too, but I don’t remember who I was in high school. All I can tell is that there would always be ranks and a hierarchy in every high school that classifies you and puts you into place.

The cool kids, the smarties, the kikays (pretty girls and wanna-bes), the D-bags (pranskters, gangsters and the meanest of the bunch), the sportatrons (athletes and varsies), the bud-butts (kids who are the butt of every joke but are still good pals with the cool kids, throwing in some wanna-be-cool kids as well) and the passives (average kids who do not care at all about the other ranks).

Thinking about it, maybe this is why I hated high school. It wasn’t much fun for me. It was… worthy of being forgotten. Sure, I had great moments too, but it’s still overruled by the negative thoughts I had about it. It would’ve been better if my HS friends were around, but they’re not, making me bitter and more stubborn about the whole thing.

I live next door to a high school classmate of mine, but we act like strangers now. Maybe it’s the same for him with me. And so are the others, the constant hi and hellos but never keeping a steady contact. Well, it’s fairly easy to forget when it meant nothing, right? 

Midnight Adrenaline

An in-between momentum

Never minding if it is still

Yesterday or Tomorrow

Rushing to and fro

Side by side we glide

I feel the forthcoming shadow of a bus

Or was it a Dromiceiomimus?

The breeze just keeps on kissing my face

Fervently without tire or pause

One more pedal and the heat just rises up

Up to my head

Pumping relentlessly through the chambers of my heart

Thumping tremendously amidst the busy honking streets

Of the city

I see only lights through my peripheral

Blurred movements

Unclear dialogues

Odorous unpleasantries

Heaving deep breaths

We continue leaning forward

Turning without swerving

Thrills beyond the veiled sky

And the overseeing moon

Quarter-life house

Quarter-life house

Part 1

The mere sight of it sickens me. The food is poison. And the air is suffocating. Every sort of negative-tinged emotion is channeled through my living veins. An excruciating torture of the mind delivered by an internal battle to remain sane. My source of pain. The kind of company that Misery is well-matched for. A house I was sheltered in, of which I refuse to call Home. Since it never was to begin with. 

Its facade is a white beautiful marble house but the depths are incredibly rotten. The walls are thick dark and depressing. They whisper insults and degrading words behind you every time you pass, but as you turn around to face them... All you see is a barren passage way with extremely daunting walls. You can feel eyes fixed upon you. Every movement watched and judged. And when you attempt to fall asleep and shut your eyes, cold hands wrap around your neck and gradually tightening the grasp until you are forced to stay awake at night, completely on guard. 

You see empty vessels moving around the house, a lot much like you... eventually. You hear them speak hollow words and produce an eerie kind of laughter, but do not be fooled, it is pointless to ask them for help. For they can even drag you down deeper. Just a meter-stop close to Hell, with the tip of the eternal scorching flame barely tickling your toes.  

Every corner just swallows you in, whole, alive. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. If you are unfortunate enough to be imprisoned or trapped at this place which I have described, then you would know the feeling.  

DEEP-CUT: Liking Someone is not for Sissies

ACT I - PASSIVITY

As I was net "stalking" my crush, I came across a blog (Crush's name was tagged upon Google-ling). Realizing later, that it's from someone I knew in my high school days. A very happy-go-lucky, jovial guy, and a central jester among his peers. I never knew he could write so well, last that I heard of him was that he took an "Art" related course and he's very good at it. One entry after another, I started to get to know him. It was his online journal. 

I only knew him by his name, his face. A junior, but aside from that? Nothing more. He always had a smile plastered on his face. I assumed that he was carefree and all I know is. We like the same guy. (Well, I still do that is, don't know about him though.)

Yes, he is what you think he is. And I thought so too. I didn't bother to get to know him then. It was quite irritable, you see, that he's always clinging to Mr. Crush. But of course, why didn't I take action of this, you ask? First, I am in no position to do so. I am not Crush's mother nor am I his girlfriend. In fact, for the last and best reason is, I'm just a friend. And I didn't think he has bad intentions to Mr. Crush, he's just always fooling around and making everyone laugh with his antics. Besides, who was he anyway?


ACT II - CONSOLATION PRIZE

I do remember being with him in a certain event. And boy, was he ever clingy to Mr. Crush (as I expected)! It did quirk my interest and curiosity of how did those two become so close. Of course, I understand that we all have side stories of how we met people in some stances of our lives. It was just sort of weird to see them to be all friendly and stuff. I didn't ask though. But tonight, I learned how deep their relationship was ( not that there was really anything beyond friendship ). It left me somewhat apologetic and proud.

I will not disclose the details, but now I have begun to REALLY understand. It seemed unreal, a work of fiction, and perhaps a magical stroke of fate, but piecing all of what i know and heard from others, it was hard to falsify them. At his last paragraph, he said and claimed to have understood Mr. Crush, if not better than anyone else, at least Mr. Crush opened up to him. 

Truth be told, Mr. Crush is really stubborn. He has a hard time expressing his feelings even if they are to his friends. To have that kind of achievement, he just earned my respect. All of his pestering and relentless shower of love and attention paid off. He may not be by Mr. Crush's side anymore (sparing him of other foul insults and judgement) and may not even have stood the chance to vie for the prized heart, but he had won a special award.

ACT III - AN EXPECTED UNEXPECTED END

He was utterly rejected. That left a huge gap in his heart. But the best part of it all is that he moved on, and all he said was, "I'm just happy to have come across him just when I thought I had a pitiful life." He wasn't angry. He wasn't bitter. He was proud. He was happy. 

To be rejected, may be ONE of the most painful thing one could go through. And at the time that it happens to us, as fresh as it comes, we think of how unbearable it is. And we become afraid even if some have not yet experienced it, the fear and  thought of rejection are capable of shattering all hope and leave us hurting. It is selfish, to think of our own pain and expect so much for the retaliation of feelings. Yes, it is not the feeling of liking someone that hurts us. It is the assumption and the eventual disappointment of it not being mutual. Liking someone is not putting some net ever that person and calling dibs on him/her. It's being free and true to yourself. 

Admitting to liking someone will not and cannot make you weak or arrogant, it makes you brave and open. Feelings are not abnormal, weird, feeble, insignificant or gross. I think, it is one of the variables that sets us apart from others. It is what makes us perplex as humans. It is what makes us move and live the life we are supposed to. No matter how vulnerable you may seem, it can make you a little stronger without even realizing it.

FINAL ACT - A LITTLE PUSH AT LIFE

"Pag-crush mo isang tao, hindi naman necessary na sabihin mo agad sa kanya." (If you like someone, it's not necessary to confess it right away) You can just build a world around it with hopes and one possibility that the feeling would be reciprocated. I think, its sole purpose is to INSPIRE you. To work hard, to be better, and do things you think you normally wouldn't do. To feel good about everything you do (especially when it's for that special person). It's not a crime to like someone. But to be ashamed of it is. Liking someone is just another way of discovering yourself, you may not know the exact answers as to "Why Do I Like This Person?" but in time you'll realize those reasons once they've served their purpose.

Then there's the thought of taking it to the next level. If you think that the feeling is strong enough, borderline love, then you'd consider telling that lucky individual the truth of it all. And if you're lucky enough too, you could have everything in that made-up world come true.

After reading an online journal of someone I know and can relate to. I salute him for being that brave, though he has been rejected quite a few times by the same person. His love/infatuation was unfaltering. He may have received a lot of criticisms and harsh words from the person he likes, but at least that didn't stop him for showing he cared. It was not shameful. It was not disgusting, grotesque, or ludicrous. It was extraordinarily beautiful.

*photos from Google

Some things you just hate to happen to you

 

1. An unsuspecting quiz at a subject you suck at. Ironically, you have already expected your score.

2. Be caught in the spotlight when your boss suddenly asked you a question you are downright flustered to answer. And within a span of seconds you have already conjured thoughts of how to kill him. But you can't, so you're just content with torturing him in your head.

3. Knowing the answer to a question that you're too shy to voice out until someone else does and you just mentally note to yourself, "Damn, I was right".

4. People ignore you and everything you do or say just goes unappreciated, especially whenever you've gone out of your way to show some effort.

5. Assuming someone you like likes you back, only to find out that you're wrong. And worst, everything they do just gets your hopes up and end up confusing you all the while (I really don't see the point of people doing this).

6. They use you as a "flirt buddy" and go ballistic whenever you mention "feelings" and "relationship".

7. Used up all your savings right at the time you're in dire need of it. 

8. Bummed out that you can't hang-out with your friends because you're unfortunately grounded or tied up with schoolwork or a tight deadline.

9. When your computer just crashes and you haven't even saved the important file you've been working on for hours. 

10. Realizing that your fly was open after almost an hour of teaching and pacing to and fro in front of 39 students.

11. Accidentally letting some drool slip caused by laughing too much.

12. Waking up from a quick nap and discovering your test paper is visibly almost covered in your own drool and there's only 5 minutes left before you turn it in.

13. Having a really creepy stalker that the very breath of him makes you uneasy (e.i. when he's behind you, which is his favorite place to be in a matter of speaking) and stares at you in the most creepy way even after you've ended the conversation you were forcibly had to share and hinted numerous times that you're ignoring him.

14. Being forced to eat something you don't even imagine putting in your mouth just because you're in a tight spot (e.g. First Dinner with your boy/girlfriend's family, Lunch out with bosses, first date with a very hard to impress crush, and etc.)

15. Being left alone you feel incredibly lonely.

16. When you can't take back the all the painful things you've already said.

17. Disappointing those people you look up to or trust you.

18. Watching the one you love being totally smitten by someone else.

19. Having no real friends.

20. Being bitter due to all the hardships and aches you've encountered and carried with you. Eventually, being engulfed in the hatred of the things that had passed and towards yourself.

21. Having to stay behind as you watch someone you really care about leave you with no assurance of their return.

22. Not wanting to become the person you hate the most but in the fervent struggle to veer away from that path, you lose sight of who you really are.

Romanticizing Red and the Ferris Wheel

Delighting at the thought that it's Heart's Day, I am insufferably surrounded by lovers with no problem showing how in love they are. My Mom has a date, so does my Dad, and my grandparents too! They would even tease me if I managed to snag a date for this day, but alas, no. 

I think I have dedicated my Valentine night with my Central Barkada/Team and nothing more. No special someone as of late, not that I'm rushing or anything. I just believe, or would just love to rather, that HE's out there. My soulmate. And no, it is not pathetic to have faith in destiny or fate. I can feel that I am soon to come across with a serendipitous encounter. And soon I shall come to meet my fiction-based guy. I do not know you yet, but I can hear you through the songs I accidentally play or happen to hear while out on the streets. I would like to think that you are waiting for me too, because I'm such a hopeless romantic. And I disagree at the notion of people that this only happens in movies.If people are able to act it out, write about it, and sing about it, then it could be possible. It counts as real. As real as your mind wants it to be.

***

I'd imagine myself sitting inside a Ferris wheel overlooking the city at night adorned with mesmerizing lights. Of course, I won't be alone on this fateful day. Atop the ride we chose we'll hold hands and glance each other shyly and perhaps blush at an immediate mutual thought. We smile and inch closer, feeling our warm breaths grazing our faces. At the touch of our lips, there the city sparks fireworks. Beautiful colors describing the insides of our brains and the riot of butterflies in our stomachs. We detach, just to communicate with our eyes and smile again. As we hold each other's hands tighter, we look at the city lights once more. Our faces were red as ripening tomatoes but we're happy, like lovesick teenagers again. We say the three little words, we often say, build up promises for this year and the next, and before we knew it, it was time to alight our magical vessel. Before I turning away, I looked up again at the Ferris wheel who bore witness to the sweetest Valentine's day I ever spent with you. Not because you gave me gifts, roses or chocolates, but because you were there at the exact moment I wanted you to be. With fingers intertwined and the red string of fate wrapped around our pinkies, we departed with plastered smiles and blissful hearts.

That is how I would like to spend my Valentine's Day... in the coming years I suppose. :))

Happy Heart's Day everyone! Keep the love burning! <3

An Art-ly Fancy

I wanna draw your face

let every detail of your pores
moles
newly sprout facial hair
and scars

fall to the lead-etched paper

where from the clean sheet of white

barren and
longing

be christened to your sweet
existence