too tired to do anything

i have no idea what’s wrong with me lately. after serveral incidents in the work place i seem to have lost all motivations to do anything. sleeping late, and waking up too tired to face the day. that’s the hardest part of each morning, trying to wake up and trudge to work. i know somewhere deep down i still like what i’m doing, but for now, lazing around seems like a better idea.

sometimes i even just want to go back. to be with people i want to be. but the people i want to be with are also here.

i can’t even do anything properly. time seems to be running shorter by the minute. my closet and hamper are always in a mad disarray of wrinkled and dirty clothing which i only had the time to iron Monday. I’ve been wearing all my wrinkle free dresses and clothes and now i’ve finally gotten a chance to wear my collared shirts and ties. and yet another growing pile of laundry awaits when i get home.

there are moments where i don’t even want to eat anything and just bask in slumber. why suddenly from raring-to-go, bouncy, and heart warming me i’ve become so sullen and depressed and tired each day? some people know why. some people doesn’t even give a flying eff to even try and ask why or bother.

in a span of two hours, i’ve encountered two different articles related to the same thing : perfectly imperfect love, and loving the right wrong person. from 3ntmonty (here) and aleydis’ blog post (here). still i have yet this find the person who’ll love me with all my impefections, someone who doesn’t ask me to change.

i have a feeling i want this too much, and i guess the world doesn’t conspire to get what you really, really, want. i’ve never thought love could be this complicated and never in my whole decade would the life of me believe how easily friendship breaks.

i guess that was a disappointment the sudden realization after crying in the streets of somerset, the blatant ignore fests and the hurtful status messages was an eye opener. that even if you value them so preciously they can still drop you because you don’t match their criteria.

since do we ever match anyone’s criteria? since when did i even say i won’t disappoint you? we are all curious cases of disappointments, it’s how you act and accept people is what matters. we are not made to perfection. and although i am harsh, self-righteous and judgmental at most, i will give leeway to people whom i care for much.

the sad thing is, do you know i’m hurting? do you know that you’ve hurt me? you don’t. choosing the wrong apple? i’m not something to be eaten. i am not like you i’m so sorry about that. but i loved you anyway. i guess i still care even if you treat me like trash.

and for the other… i hope you realize who you perfectly imperfectly love. because i know it’s not me.

this is another ramble of w.s., signing off.

out of body experience at 2:01 am

almost everyone whom i still have close contact with since i left already knows what is causing this out of body experience.

the masters would be giggling the moment they see this post and rethink of the conversation we had yesterday afternoon over nonfat hazelnut caramel macciatoes.

i keep thinking about it, over and over. the meeting, the execution, my perma-grin, it was what i wanted. what i dreamed for, and what i hope for in exchange of a lot of brokeness.

is this it? is it really impossible to have two good things at a time? didn’t past add up enough for me to have more than one incredibly beautiful thing?

i’m being selfish

the world is never unfair. we just want to look at it that way. it’s easier to accept the things that we cannot get by blaming it on others, when there are more people in need of happiness and contentment.

we all need to learn what’s it’s like to be contented. what made you happy today? what made you want to push yourself more in life? nothing is constant, everything changes, everything needs to dance while the earth spins. there’s no other choice but to move forward, no sense in looking at the past, no sense in dwelling on things that are over. and will never return again. staying in the past means there is no growth, we all need to grow, we cannot stand still.

the past are merely remnants. it won’t change. it’s there. still-frame photographs in your memory that you needlessly flip over.

why not create new memories.

i’ve been a dweller, i loved to stay inside the deep, familiar cocoon of my past, an empty shell of nothingness, until i became nothing.

never will i again be drowned in such sick twisted manipulations.  the mourning is over. i have yet more songs to sing, and more steps to dance.

i maybe alone as of the moment, but there are people whom showed me what i’m worth, showed me how i’m worth to them, and for someone who lacked friends in the past, now have a few, very treasured jewels that she cherishes.

thank you for teaching me to be patient. to be kind and to not wage unecessary wars.
thank you for teaching me  how to play mindgames and how to handle the most difficult people.
thank you for letting me learn the hard way that things doesn’t always go the way they plan.
thank you for helping me understand why there is a need for people to leave.
thank you for much care and more than enough to pass on to others
thank you for being patient, and to shower much understanding and love.
thank you for all the times that I was down and you made me laugh
thank you for the music, the songs i am singing (sounds familiar)
thank you for holding me, when i was in so much pain
thank you for letting me go on with my vice, even though we all know, that it hurts you.
thank you for not letting go, when i wanted too
thank you for not leaving me,when i needed someone the most
thank you for defending me, when i was being abused, and
thank you for loving me, for who i am, for what i am now, for what i was then, and for what i could’ve been.

all the thanks, for everyone, who touched my life, who loved me, who lost me, whom i lost, whom i loved, whom i cherished whom i loathed. people of the world, whoever you are. whatever you did to me, or whatever you never did, it made me who i am now. i may not be a pretty as the girls i knew who got fawned over all the time, i may not be as smart as all my dean-lister friends and colleagues, but i am me.  i would like to think i was too complex that nobody could even understand, even myself. i feel like a shark without it’s fin, limping by waiting for it’s turn to die.

….it’s 2am and i’m high and i just got back to the house. yes. i am stoned and high and wasted and this is nonsense.

gaining independence : 1 cup of rice and 1.5 cups of water at a time.

after 3 months of the whirlwind tour from the highest point of my life, to the lowest, to the wtf-insane, i managed to settle down and form an almost functional routine which doesn’t require me to travel long distances to past the time. i managed to have laundry night fridays, semi-weeknight dota sessions Monday to Friday, movie night saturdays, church sundays, and stay at home dinner weeknights monday to friday if possible. so i went ahead already and used the effin stove at long last after looking at it confunded and didn’t bother asking sera whatever makes it ignite. i cooked  san remo instant pasta and its a start. now, i tackle the rice cooker. i haven’t used one in my whole life. the last time i cooked rice was when i was in this leadership course in a gasul cooker when i use dangkal as a measurement system and a lot of trial and error. here’s what i tried to do.

1. Went online to search for water to rice ratio. -apparently there are a lot of ways to cook rice, lots of flavours invovled. and alot of guesstimation. i tossed in 1 cup of rice and 1.5 cup water, but felt dubious so when in doubt…
   

   rice cooker, rice and cup

2. consult an expert – i asked 0tep how did he cook rice. he said basically the same thing, all depends on the quantity of the rice, how you want it (sticky/aldente) and such. he said 1 cup of rice will do with 1.25 cup water, being unsure of my 1 : 1.5 ratio, i tossed another 0.25 cup rice and 0.25 cup water making it 1.25 / 1.75.
   

   cooking rice, and the disbelief of actually documenting this

3. Add flavouring – now that the cooking process is over.  i added some bit of cooking flair, or the only thing i can do w/ rice,  a dash of olive oil, salt, white pepper and italian seasoning.
   

   italian, pepper,salt, and olive oil (not in picture)

4. cooking egg – while waiting for doomsday or for bad rice, i am more worried about cooking egg. splattering oil was one of the many reasons i gave up learning to fry or having to do anything that splats hot stuff on me. (had a horrible second degree burn when i was 11, couldn’t bear the heat)
   

   little cooking pan for egg

after a grueling wait, the rice was cooked and i took a peek. it was beautiful and fluffy. the oil probably made it less sticky, the use of salt, herbs, and seasoning were not overkill that it smelled like pizza rice.

fluffy rice, FLUFFY

so, i heated spam, cooked the egg uneventfully using low heat then traversing to high heat, and topped the rice onto the plate.

my dinner meal for tonight

dinner time *chomp*

so, i survived, the house survived, my tummy survived and the egg survived. i was able to eat happily while watching Desperate Housewives.

*bow* now to greater foodstuffs to cook! *dances*

nice to mole you, goodbye.

last Sunday, after waiting impatiently for the next payday, i was able to score too much things. in fact, i have to cut the spending to the usual expense of food, drinks, transportation and movies for the next 3 weeks. i was around east for some errands for my mom and was able to catch on 2 warehouse sales (Popular/John Little) and planned my careful execution of evasion tactics from the crowd, and i was able to finish all my errands in a span of 1 hour.

yes, one solid hour of traversing 3 warehouses, each in a disciplined manner and a certain time, until i walked to the bus stop triumphant. :D

dance dance dance by haruki murakami

meanwhile, i went to buy a new book. Haruki Murakami’s Dance Dance Dance. I’m nearing halfway and all I can say is, it’s beautifully written. i adore him[Murakami]. he was able to describe to the whole world in Norwegian Wood how woman doesn’t need perfection but more of selfish love really.

converse chucks #1

converse chucks #2

anyway. while drowning myself in reds and black in an alfresco place near the mall. i was able to buy 2 pairs of Converse chucks. *woot* after 3 years of hopelessly finding the perfect pair to replace/alternate my old one, finally found 2 who were worthy. got them w/ a 25% discount which ended up being 1.4k php for each pair, which is dirt cheap because they were those awesome 2.6k php details. *yum*.  i bought a steadler mech pen and coloured pens just because, and some needed personal supplies :P

coloured pens, mech pen and a soft covered sketchbook

black-yellow dress from miphosis

I scored a pair of black pointy flats with garter straps, and a little yellow dress with a black sheath. *swoon*.

and all within my budget of around 6k php. *chomp* and I hear my money go down into happy business conglomerates’ pockets patting each other on the back, thank me Converse, Popular, John Little, Miphosis, Kinokuniya and Charles and Keith, haha.

what i really liked about that day was my purchase of a little a5 moleskin notebook. it has no lines and i can both write and do my horrendous sketches w/ my coloured pens.

i noticed i like writing still, although i am quite pissy w/ my penmanship, with all it’s loops and curves and misalignments. too fat for my taste, too messy to be actually be called artistic. meh.

maybe sometime, i’ll scan some of my thoughts. because i’m lazy that way. or maybe i won’t. because i’m lazy that way.

admist the crowds i sat and blogged

i am here in one of the most charming places in the world imho, while i wait for the dinner crowd to thin out, i am here leisurely sipping oj watchingthe scurry of feet.

i am still amazed and enthralled after two months of being here. i still cannot believe how lucky i am. to be immersed in a whole new culture.

i will never take for granted the independence and freedom i gained, and i hope that losing one of the most important person in my life was already a big price to pay.

now i let myself be while everybody rushes past.

Blogging from blogdesk. because I cannot afford any more screw-ups.

So, I have managed to find another one of those post offline things. Something called Blogdesk. It is a minimal-looking app that allows you to post entries on a little wsiwyg notepad looking env, and manage all your blogs on one view.

But I am not really here to pimp about it. I am merely testing it’s usefulness to me. The setup was a bit meh. But I like how it looks. Visual representation means a lot to me. It’s seems like a very easy GUI. I think any simpleton who writes on a blog can actually setup this one.

Some idiot recommended Windows Live Writer. And I cancelled the download immediately when I see it’s 6MB out of 133. Oh puhleeze.

What else do I have to say. I don’t really know. I will be watching Angels and Demons this saturday on the seat that I do not like. I am totally pulling a Sheldon here. (In reference to the big bang theory.) Ah wells. Nothing I can do about it.

As I suddenly remembered what I wanted to say. All I can remember is I was at the bus stop. I was enjoying the cool breeze and the night sky. It was already 10ish. I was having too much time talking and listening. 5 or 6 buses came and went. But we kept on talking until I knew I had to pull away or I won’t go back until the wee hours again. for once I wasn’t worried or feeling any dread or any horrible consequence, it was a completely light-hearted and friendly conversation that ended and there could be others.

Hopefully there would be more interesting days like this :) I would like to think I deserve it, from all the heartache and pain.

I didn’t come here only to be held back.

After some incidents that had me going over the edge, I settled for some small talk with b41. I asked the usual bouts of insecure questions and again he would try and patiently answer some of them.

Before the move, I used to be ecstatic. Numerous plans were made, a feeling of finally belonging occurred, but for a short span of X timespan, they are slowly disintegrating, in fact, I was feeling a bit cheated.

I didn’t expect something, of course. I didn’t expect anything at all. But words and actions are not on the same page. I am beginning to feel very tired. In fact, I feel there isn’t much worth.

I am beginning to think that I love everybody too much. Too much that everytime I feel disappointed, hurt wells up tenfold. Even more. It is a miracle I have kicked one of my very bad habits for almost 3 weeks , but it seems that I need to retreive it for sheer insanity.

I thank that guy who always keeps me in check. Even if we have a thousand mile span (our favorite song! :P), He never fails to make me feel better.

generic friend.

i think i have always been a generic friend. what is one anyway? is there even such a thing? well, to simply put, a generic friend is someone who is a friend to everybody but is not up par w/ closer peers nor towards to significant others. a generic friend is somewhat there or not. drifting in and out of cliques but doesn’t really have a specific one.  i am most of the time, in the aquaintance to lunch partner friends, but peope live to go on w/out me. they have everybody else anyway. i may have all the friend qualities but there are many more special friends than i am, or there are more importante people in their lives that i am not always a part of theirs. even if they are truly and specially a part of mine.

maybe some people are right. maybe i should find people who have more generic friends. so i could be a specific one to them…

meh…

Protected: added injuries to my insanity

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do you think you’re better off alone?

was my question while playing a game of chance. I had 95 coins to spare. so I sat in my usual seat and fed the machine while thinking of this extended me time.

after all the coins were spent i began to get some more, until i had no more load on my timezone card. as i continue to try and get a winning number. i thought of the alice deejay song

“do you think you’re better off alone?”  

and as if an answer, the tokens dropped into the “start” slot and the numbers began to randomize on my screen like a slot machine. 

and the dome darkened and made a beeping sound for a true match which read :

2 2 2

Was it an omen? A sign? I don’t know, but I know I’m not better off alone. :)