Today is the 26th of November of 2010 and my birth certificate says that today is the 17th anniversary of the first time I inhaled sweet oxygen through my own nose and filled my lungs with it.
I have been alive and kicking for 17 years. :)
I don’t really know what’s so important about birthdays. I mean, okay, so you were born on that day, so what? You’re also alive on other dates that are NOT your birth dates. Why do our birth dates hold so much significance to us?
It seems ironic how the young are excited to become adults—legal. They wanna experience all the privileges of adulthood, not taking into consideration that as they become older, they also inherit more responsibility. Obviously, maturity is not always directly proportional to age.
But in contrast to that situation, old people are so immersed in the battle against aging that they spend so much on it—surgeries, medical/miracle pills, anti-aging creams, etcetera, etcetera.
The human mind is a curious thing. Hmmmmmph.
But to be honest, when I have birthdays, it doesn’t really feel all that different compared to other days. People just greet you, sing for you, hug you and give you gifts. Well, okay I guess it is different. But besides all the greeting, people sometimes sing for, hug and give you gifts even when it’s not on your birthday. My point is, we don’t have to reserve special acts of kindness just on days when certain people celebrate their birthday. Sure, birthdays present convenient opportunities to talk with an acquaintance because it is a reason in itself to start a conversation. But why restrict ourselves to that?
Why don’t we be as kind, happy, as generous and open on all the days for the rest of our lives? Why can’t everyday be our “birthdays”? Or…maybe the question should be, why can’t we celebrate every day we are alive as “life days”? Isn’t the majesty and glory of being fully alive and breathing already enough of a reason to celebrate?
LIVE, my friends. And be merry. And not just on your birthdays.
Be joyful and be kind even when it’s not your or a friend’s birthday—be happy on strangers’ birthdays too—which is, basically, EVERYDAY. ;)
With that mindset, everyday is literally a birthday. Not yours, obviously. But who said anything about restrictions in sharing? ;)
P.S. I hope you got my HP reference. And the post I’m praising with my title. I’ll probably always substitute baby with infant now. It’s just more bad as*… in a totally lame way.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Ang Paghinanakit ng isang Estudyante
October 26, 2010
Ms. **********, HS APFSA
Dear Ma’am:
Last week our class had our first 15 point Filipino quiz under Mrs. ******** . I passed my paper approximately 5 minutes after Mrs. ******** collected all my other classmates’ papers. My action has violated a testing procedure regarding the examination time. I understand the possible repercussions of this action, including a possible infraction, SBF form, lowering of conduct grade or lowering of academic grade. However, I will still do my best to explain to you what happened precisely, what I did wrong and what I will do now in light of my mistake.
When Mrs. ******** entered our classroom, she told us to get a half lengthwise yellow pad paper for our first quiz. After that, she let us write down the questions she dictated for the quiz. And then she gave us a few minutes to answer the test. Some of my classmates say that she only gave us about 10 to 15 minutes to finish the test. I am not all too sure with this. However, even if we had 20 minutes to answer the test I believe all of us, in general, had too little time to finish it because it contained 5 questions. I am sure I was not the only one who found the time too little. Some of my classmates may have finished early because they are more precise and concise in answering or perhaps they didn’t know what to write. I am neither of these. I always try to do my best in every test and unfortunately, I am not the particularly witty person Shakespeare referred to when he said, “Brevity is the soul of wit.” I am too meticulous most of the times.
Because of my lengthy answers and carelessness with Father Time, the last two questions in my test paper still remained unanswered when Mrs. ******** asked us to pass the papers. I raised my left hand together with my voice to tell the air or the general public (everyone and apparently, no one, in this case) that I was not yet done with the test while I kept my right hand on the paper and kept on answering the questions I knew the answer to. Soon after that I put my left hand back down on the paper to hold it while my right hand furiously transferred all my thoughts to the yellow pad paper. Noise ensued around me and amidst that, my classmates seated around me, particularly **** and *** **, as I recall, were the good ones who kept on telling me to just pass the paper. I heard this and the noise around me too, but I did my best to block them out and continue my trail of thought on the paper.
I believe that somewhere between teacher telling us to pass the papers and myself realizing I still had questions left unanswered, I made the decision to just finish the test. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I believe the situation was something like what happens in paint ball when a member of the opposing team is able to corner you and ask: “Surrender or Die?” Likewise, if I passed and surrendered the paper, it was an automatic zero for both numbers and if I didn’t pass the paper immediately, my teacher could have refused to accept it and something like this could happen. And it did. Apparently, I chose to die.
I am in no way trying to justify my action, but I am justifying my intention for doing so. I just want you to know my reasons and my state of mind right now. I know my decision is wrong—even before all of this happened. I believe every person in his/her right mind can tell right from wrong. So I knew it was wrong and I still did it anyway. Why? It’s just that I had to make my decision, amidst all the time pressure, the noise, and my own conscience. I believe anyone can relate to my wrong decision because none of us is exempt from making wrong choices except Him (and Venus Raj, I guess). I repeat: I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. It was a “Surrender Or Die?” moment. I was thinking that since I knew the answers to these questions, I will not be giving justice to myself if I didn’t answer it. I was thinking that it would be “sayang”. I was thinking that the unreasonable time limit was unfair for me and all of us. When in hot water I guess that for most of us, our natural human instinct of self-preservation (no matter how ignorant, counter-productive, contradictory and shortsighted it may seem upon retrospect) take over and we do what we think is best for ourselves for that time. So I answered the test. I can assure you I did not even look at the book or another person’s answers, I did not converse about the answer with my classmates and I did not hear any of my classmates’ answers. If I did manage to overhear them, I do not remember anything anymore because I didn’t take notice of them (I was busy answering the test and blocking out the noise—and unfortunately in this case, I believe I also blocked out the voice of reason in my head) except the ones who directly addressed me, like **** and *** ** to pass the papers already. I am sure my classmates can attest to that fact that even if I did not pass my paper on time, I did not cheat. I will not dare to lower myself to that level, but I guess in light of what happened, I guess I may as well have had done it with everything that has been brought up by this incident.
Then after the Decision I realized the other things I did not think of before, like how I could have just asked for consideration after, and how I could have just passed the papers and stuck to my own principles and preserved my morality.
Obviously, I did not do the bigger, the more selfless act. I did not think about the OTHER people. I didn’t look at the bigger picture. I realized that I had been unfair not only to myself, but also my classmates and Mrs. ********. I disobeyed her and in effect, disrespected her. That is why I am very grateful that after the Incident she still accepted my paper and she talked to me, she listened to me and all in all she was very open to what I had to say and much, much kinder than I thought she should be after what I did. These are the things I committed because of one wrong decision. (But all these retrospective thought only came after the incident because as I have said, I really did not have time to have an inner debate with myself when I made the decision; instinct—selfishness/self-preservation--took over.)
However, I also realized some other things as well. I realized that when there is something wrong with a system, something is bound to become wrong with those under that system as well. Something wrong will happen to the people following the system. (e.g., The Philippine government) And although I admit that I was wrong I believe that my intention was right, but my ends do not justify my means. I just believe that I did the wrong the decision largely because of my own selfishness and still partly also because we had too little time. I think there obviously is also something wrong with the number of questions for the test and the time allotment in the quiz. I think the time was not sufficient enough to completely answer the questions.
To be honest, I still think that. But I also realized something more important than even everything I realized so far. I believe that Jesus would not have wanted me to do what I did. I realized that I broke my own principles and became a hypocrite when I refused to pass the paper because of my stubborn will, selfishness and determination. This is not the “me” I want to be. I do not want to be a person who acts purely on instinct and selfishness.
Therefore, I am never going to do this again in any school or institution I will be in. I realize that if I am to criticize something in the system I follow, I should be blameless. (To be honest, many would see it as an act of stupidity too, but for the record, I just really want to say that even though several think that I always do this disobedience and I am only concerned with my grades or anything related to it, I passed my ACET on time even though I left a good portion of the last test set blank.)
Although now I realize that the fault is largely mine and partly, the system’s, I ask of you to please be considerate with your response. I hope I have clarified any confusion and my intentions for committing such a heinous crime against testing procedures, honesty and justice.
Sincerely yours,
K******a C******n
IV-C******
Ms. **********, HS APFSA
Dear Ma’am:
Last week our class had our first 15 point Filipino quiz under Mrs. ******** . I passed my paper approximately 5 minutes after Mrs. ******** collected all my other classmates’ papers. My action has violated a testing procedure regarding the examination time. I understand the possible repercussions of this action, including a possible infraction, SBF form, lowering of conduct grade or lowering of academic grade. However, I will still do my best to explain to you what happened precisely, what I did wrong and what I will do now in light of my mistake.
When Mrs. ******** entered our classroom, she told us to get a half lengthwise yellow pad paper for our first quiz. After that, she let us write down the questions she dictated for the quiz. And then she gave us a few minutes to answer the test. Some of my classmates say that she only gave us about 10 to 15 minutes to finish the test. I am not all too sure with this. However, even if we had 20 minutes to answer the test I believe all of us, in general, had too little time to finish it because it contained 5 questions. I am sure I was not the only one who found the time too little. Some of my classmates may have finished early because they are more precise and concise in answering or perhaps they didn’t know what to write. I am neither of these. I always try to do my best in every test and unfortunately, I am not the particularly witty person Shakespeare referred to when he said, “Brevity is the soul of wit.” I am too meticulous most of the times.
Because of my lengthy answers and carelessness with Father Time, the last two questions in my test paper still remained unanswered when Mrs. ******** asked us to pass the papers. I raised my left hand together with my voice to tell the air or the general public (everyone and apparently, no one, in this case) that I was not yet done with the test while I kept my right hand on the paper and kept on answering the questions I knew the answer to. Soon after that I put my left hand back down on the paper to hold it while my right hand furiously transferred all my thoughts to the yellow pad paper. Noise ensued around me and amidst that, my classmates seated around me, particularly **** and *** **, as I recall, were the good ones who kept on telling me to just pass the paper. I heard this and the noise around me too, but I did my best to block them out and continue my trail of thought on the paper.
I believe that somewhere between teacher telling us to pass the papers and myself realizing I still had questions left unanswered, I made the decision to just finish the test. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I believe the situation was something like what happens in paint ball when a member of the opposing team is able to corner you and ask: “Surrender or Die?” Likewise, if I passed and surrendered the paper, it was an automatic zero for both numbers and if I didn’t pass the paper immediately, my teacher could have refused to accept it and something like this could happen. And it did. Apparently, I chose to die.
I am in no way trying to justify my action, but I am justifying my intention for doing so. I just want you to know my reasons and my state of mind right now. I know my decision is wrong—even before all of this happened. I believe every person in his/her right mind can tell right from wrong. So I knew it was wrong and I still did it anyway. Why? It’s just that I had to make my decision, amidst all the time pressure, the noise, and my own conscience. I believe anyone can relate to my wrong decision because none of us is exempt from making wrong choices except Him (and Venus Raj, I guess). I repeat: I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. It was a “Surrender Or Die?” moment. I was thinking that since I knew the answers to these questions, I will not be giving justice to myself if I didn’t answer it. I was thinking that it would be “sayang”. I was thinking that the unreasonable time limit was unfair for me and all of us. When in hot water I guess that for most of us, our natural human instinct of self-preservation (no matter how ignorant, counter-productive, contradictory and shortsighted it may seem upon retrospect) take over and we do what we think is best for ourselves for that time. So I answered the test. I can assure you I did not even look at the book or another person’s answers, I did not converse about the answer with my classmates and I did not hear any of my classmates’ answers. If I did manage to overhear them, I do not remember anything anymore because I didn’t take notice of them (I was busy answering the test and blocking out the noise—and unfortunately in this case, I believe I also blocked out the voice of reason in my head) except the ones who directly addressed me, like **** and *** ** to pass the papers already. I am sure my classmates can attest to that fact that even if I did not pass my paper on time, I did not cheat. I will not dare to lower myself to that level, but I guess in light of what happened, I guess I may as well have had done it with everything that has been brought up by this incident.
Then after the Decision I realized the other things I did not think of before, like how I could have just asked for consideration after, and how I could have just passed the papers and stuck to my own principles and preserved my morality.
Obviously, I did not do the bigger, the more selfless act. I did not think about the OTHER people. I didn’t look at the bigger picture. I realized that I had been unfair not only to myself, but also my classmates and Mrs. ********. I disobeyed her and in effect, disrespected her. That is why I am very grateful that after the Incident she still accepted my paper and she talked to me, she listened to me and all in all she was very open to what I had to say and much, much kinder than I thought she should be after what I did. These are the things I committed because of one wrong decision. (But all these retrospective thought only came after the incident because as I have said, I really did not have time to have an inner debate with myself when I made the decision; instinct—selfishness/self-preservation--took over.)
However, I also realized some other things as well. I realized that when there is something wrong with a system, something is bound to become wrong with those under that system as well. Something wrong will happen to the people following the system. (e.g., The Philippine government) And although I admit that I was wrong I believe that my intention was right, but my ends do not justify my means. I just believe that I did the wrong the decision largely because of my own selfishness and still partly also because we had too little time. I think there obviously is also something wrong with the number of questions for the test and the time allotment in the quiz. I think the time was not sufficient enough to completely answer the questions.
I was thinking that since I knew the answers to these questions, I will not be giving justice to myself if I didn’t answer it. I was thinking that it would be “sayang”. I was thinking that the unreasonable time limit was unfair for me and all of us.
To be honest, I still think that. But I also realized something more important than even everything I realized so far. I believe that Jesus would not have wanted me to do what I did. I realized that I broke my own principles and became a hypocrite when I refused to pass the paper because of my stubborn will, selfishness and determination. This is not the “me” I want to be. I do not want to be a person who acts purely on instinct and selfishness.
Therefore, I am never going to do this again in any school or institution I will be in. I realize that if I am to criticize something in the system I follow, I should be blameless. (To be honest, many would see it as an act of stupidity too, but for the record, I just really want to say that even though several think that I always do this disobedience and I am only concerned with my grades or anything related to it, I passed my ACET on time even though I left a good portion of the last test set blank.)
Although now I realize that the fault is largely mine and partly, the system’s, I ask of you to please be considerate with your response. I hope I have clarified any confusion and my intentions for committing such a heinous crime against testing procedures, honesty and justice.
Sincerely yours,
K******a C******n
IV-C******
Friday, September 10, 2010
The Search for Something More
Sometimes it sickens me to see so many skinny, beautiful girls in EVERYTHING—posters, magazines, PICTURES ON TUMBLR, pictures on facebook, pictures, pictures pictures, movies, TV, etcetera.
I’ve always thought I was a pretty deep person with a strong foundation in my relationship with Him. I’ve always thought I have so much more foresight, insight, intellect, wisdom, goals, and dreams than the average girls who want to make themselves stick thin. And I still do believe I am that.
It’s just that there IS a certain pull, a certain attraction, a certain appeal to being “commercially” pretty, or being “pretty” or “beautiful” by the world’s standards.
It’s so easy to forget that when He made me, fashioned me out of His very words and very self, He made me into a masterpiece that is the one and only ME. It’s so easy to forget that for the most important being in the universe, in the whole existence of everything within and without our world, I AM BEAUTIFUL.
It’s so easy to forget that He died for me as much as He did for all those beautiful ladies that so many guys lust over. It’s so easy to forget that we are all unique and yet fundamentally equal.
Truly, people cannot walk on you if you do not lie on the ground yourself. As Eleanor Roosevelt has said it, ‘No one can make you feel inferior without your consent’.
I know it all starts in my brain. I know it’s me telling myself, “Oh, you girl. Poor, pitiful you. So overweight and chubby. So disgustingly FAT.” I know that I do exaggerate too. I know I’m not THAT FAT. I’m nowhere near obese.
But really, at the end of the day, while everything that pushes my mind into thinking that THIS particular brand of beauty is the ONLY beauty is from the media and outside influences, the decision—the choice to believe it rest in my hands.
And it’s a very easy choice to make. A very wrong choice, though as is the characteristic of most wrong choices, a very appealing one.
Usually, I’ll be too busy or preoccupied to really think about being a little on the chubby side that much, but it’s always there at the back of my mind.
And to be honest, MEDIA is working on me. I know I can never be as thin as those other girls because my body is different and I accept that. But I just want to be thinner in my own way.
And to be honest, I want to be thin for many reasons. One, I’ll feel so much more contented with how I look. Two, I’ll start believing that I can be equal to be in a relationship or at least paired up with my crushes.
HA. Just bringing those two up unearths so much more issues.
I just said we’re all equal and then I said that about my crushes. Well that’s proof number 1 that I am indeed a confused little lady. I know what’s right and what’s the REAL truth. But the reality of being a teenager in today’s times still creep up on me inside my thoughts. I do feel that I can never be good enough for my crushes because I’m not as thin as I should be…or think I should be.
And then also goes in the issue that I’m not even really looking for a boy right now. Methinks I am much too young for that.
And to be honest, the only reason that makes me stop myself from pushing my fingers inside my throat or starving myself to a thinner me is my self-respect.
Pride.
I don’t want to be equated to all those girls who think that external appearances is key. I DON’T.
And then of course come in all my other reasons for believing that I am perfect just the way I am too. His perfect love. And I know that if HE can love me to the point of DYING for me, then a man on earth here must be too.
But I do want to be healthier and more fit because I want to fulfill my full potential. I want to be a greater dancer, a greater person or a better one by being in my best condition BOTH inside AND out.
<3, me.
I’ve always thought I was a pretty deep person with a strong foundation in my relationship with Him. I’ve always thought I have so much more foresight, insight, intellect, wisdom, goals, and dreams than the average girls who want to make themselves stick thin. And I still do believe I am that.
It’s just that there IS a certain pull, a certain attraction, a certain appeal to being “commercially” pretty, or being “pretty” or “beautiful” by the world’s standards.
It’s so easy to forget that when He made me, fashioned me out of His very words and very self, He made me into a masterpiece that is the one and only ME. It’s so easy to forget that for the most important being in the universe, in the whole existence of everything within and without our world, I AM BEAUTIFUL.
It’s so easy to forget that He died for me as much as He did for all those beautiful ladies that so many guys lust over. It’s so easy to forget that we are all unique and yet fundamentally equal.
Truly, people cannot walk on you if you do not lie on the ground yourself. As Eleanor Roosevelt has said it, ‘No one can make you feel inferior without your consent’.
I know it all starts in my brain. I know it’s me telling myself, “Oh, you girl. Poor, pitiful you. So overweight and chubby. So disgustingly FAT.” I know that I do exaggerate too. I know I’m not THAT FAT. I’m nowhere near obese.
But really, at the end of the day, while everything that pushes my mind into thinking that THIS particular brand of beauty is the ONLY beauty is from the media and outside influences, the decision—the choice to believe it rest in my hands.
And it’s a very easy choice to make. A very wrong choice, though as is the characteristic of most wrong choices, a very appealing one.
Usually, I’ll be too busy or preoccupied to really think about being a little on the chubby side that much, but it’s always there at the back of my mind.
And to be honest, MEDIA is working on me. I know I can never be as thin as those other girls because my body is different and I accept that. But I just want to be thinner in my own way.
And to be honest, I want to be thin for many reasons. One, I’ll feel so much more contented with how I look. Two, I’ll start believing that I can be equal to be in a relationship or at least paired up with my crushes.
HA. Just bringing those two up unearths so much more issues.
I just said we’re all equal and then I said that about my crushes. Well that’s proof number 1 that I am indeed a confused little lady. I know what’s right and what’s the REAL truth. But the reality of being a teenager in today’s times still creep up on me inside my thoughts. I do feel that I can never be good enough for my crushes because I’m not as thin as I should be…or think I should be.
And then also goes in the issue that I’m not even really looking for a boy right now. Methinks I am much too young for that.
And to be honest, the only reason that makes me stop myself from pushing my fingers inside my throat or starving myself to a thinner me is my self-respect.
Pride.
I don’t want to be equated to all those girls who think that external appearances is key. I DON’T.
And then of course come in all my other reasons for believing that I am perfect just the way I am too. His perfect love. And I know that if HE can love me to the point of DYING for me, then a man on earth here must be too.
But I do want to be healthier and more fit because I want to fulfill my full potential. I want to be a greater dancer, a greater person or a better one by being in my best condition BOTH inside AND out.
<3, me.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Can anybody find me somebody to love?
"The spaces between your fingers were created so that another's could fill them in."
Author:Anonymous
GAHH.
The romance bug bit me again, inducing me to reveal my truest, deepest self: a complete and utter hopeful romantic. :D
This is killing me. I don't know why humans become lovesick puppies by the curious age of adolescence. I mean, I know, of course, it's to keep the race of humanity going. But it kills me to yearn for a somebody to love, for a somebody to love me.
I even hate how I'm sounding like right now. I sound so lovesick and pathetic.
That's the word. PATHETIC.
Anyway, since almost no one who knows me personally actually reads these stuff, I might as well type down everything I'm feeling no matter how vulnerable and pathetic it makes me.
I just want the feeling of having someone holding my hand, hugging me, ...ehehehhehe...kissing me. I dunno. It's not even about sex, or procreation...fornication, etcetera, etcetera. It's just I know people need to be needed and need to need. I want somebody to fill up the spaces a friend can't. It's just that simple. I want to be able to hug somebody--okay, FINE, I'll admit it--a boy, or a man, because I can.
You see, being raised by conservative parents in a pretty conservative country, I am not allowed to have a boyfriend until the ripe age of 30....
Just kidding. But I am not allowed to have one until I finish college.
And my parents advised me against hugging people of the opposite sex because I am quite filled in that front area and doing so might give them the wrong idea...even if THEY are my cousin. Oh, the gifts and curses of being a curvy girl... Hahaha. The perfect soundtrack for me right now is Britney Spear's old hit: I'm not a girl, not yet a woman.
Well, I also know I don't really have the time for someone special in my life right now. (When I do get into a relationship, I don't want it to be a simple fling I can easily toss away. Whenever I do anything, I let myself, everything I have pour into it. And being a kind of busy thing-in-between-a-girl-and-a-woman, I prolly don't have as much time as needed to give my heart and soul to someone else.) And perhaps, I have not the maturity it requires either. But I'm not really sure about the latter. I guess all I can do right now is trust in God and trust that one day he will deliver to me my soul mate which makes the waiting all the more worth it and bearable.
(Before I get sued: beautiful picture courtesy of the shady sources of wonders and wares of the fantastical Google. AND quote courtesy of Zen Quotes)
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Kapayapaan
Tinamaan talaga ako. Grabe.
Yesterday, we had a Cabochan Motorcade in Caloocan, 2nd District, as a last hurrah for Tito Carling's campaign. He is hoping to become the Congressman.
But that is not the subject of this entry. It's actually the mass that went after it.
But before that...
See, throughout my whole life, I have had an off-again, on-again relationship with my mother. She hates me. Then, sometimes I feel as if she loves me. So I'm one confused little girl. Well, I ain't that--according to her.
I'm the most arrogant, conceited, worthless piece of demonic horse shit that ever existed. (And the thing is...I agree.)
Thanks, mom.
So ironic. Heck, it's even friggin' Mother's Day today.
Perfect, right?
Anyhow, back to our weird relationship. The reason we break up? Simple.
My fault.
Always.
The reason we get back together? I admit it's my fault.
Always.
Or at least she gives this pre-forgiving (but not really) speech to me, wherein she clarifies how everything is my fault and none of it is hers. She has many different versions of it, but all they really come down to is: "I'm right; you're wrong. You'll always be wrong and I will always be right, so there's no use in you explaining your side to me. So shut up and I'll forgive you."
And all that's running through my mind is: "Here we go again. You're right... Yea, right."
Hahahaha... when did I ever turn into this arrogant, worthless piece of slob who disses her own mother? Oh, yeah. Ever since I was born, according to the one and only.
The thing is, whenever we fight, she usually makes me feel like sh--. And the thing is, I have no defense against it...why? Because there's this stupid function deeply embedded in the human genome that compels all human beings to love their parents...no matter how undeserving they may be...and to yearn that love to be given in return.
So I'm helpless against all the daggers she throws at my heart, and all I can do is to act like I'm completely unaffected by all of it.
But she doesn't really realize there's a huge chink in my armor, and even if she does and I tell her, she's gonna be overjoyed about it and I ... I admit it, I just can't really stand the fact that she wins this one...
again.
And I lose. Again.
And I hate myself a little more.
Here ought to lie a divider sine I'll be discussing the next main point.
You see, I've always thought I had a healthy dose of self-esteem.
I'm not anorexic, bulimic, a smoker, an alcoholic, I don't have suicidal thoughts, I don't lash myself. I carry myself with confidence. I'm confident in my beliefs, or at least I know who I am and what I chose to believe in. I'm not lost in this place called life. I know what I want to accomplish. I do have the end in mind. I read self-help books, I read psychological books.
I'm the person who gives the inspiration, not the one who receives it. Of course, at some point, we must receive inspiration, but I already have this huge stock of it (due to a time in my life when I had harbored this deep hatred and disgust for myself and thought of dying just to end it all but then had a huge turnabout)that I keep on adding to with my own realizations/eureka moments/observations. That's why I hate it when people speaking to inspire think the things they're sharing are new and awesome and is supposed to inspire me when I've already heard/known about it before. And that's also why I am awed and highly respect those who give new inspiration to me, enlightening me more, giving me new thoughts and inspiration for new realizations.
But the thing is, I've realized, I do hate myself...or I began to do it AGAIN--even though I thought I was past that and already larger, much larger than myself before that I won't even stoop to that level anymore.
But people would never, ever, ever think--ever even conceive of the enormity of the intense hatred I have for myself.
And I do.
Why?
Because I am selfish and conceited and have no grace, no humility, no repentance... I'm a BEACH.
And...there's no use blaming my mother for it because I must learn to take responsibility for my life...but
she is one large reason I hate myself. Or at least she's the one who made me realize why I should hate myself by displaying them all out right before my face.
She made me realize that no one really needs me. (And here is why I believe people need to feel needed by others.) If I die, my mom has Ileana, the school has about 249 other students in my batch, they could replace me anywhere. My parents don't need me, my family doesn't need me. My sisters have Ileana and my parents. My brothers have their parents. My uncle and aunts have their children, my grandmother has her children...Now this sounds so stupid but it really made sense when I was thinking of it myself in my depressed little brain. POINT IS, IF I DIE, NO ONE WOULD CARE.
But I also thought that I could make myself needed by being the ideal person everyone would need...but isn't that too just another view people have of me that I'm trying to fit myself into? So would that truly work out in the end and make me effective and happy? I don't really know.
Now comes back my existentialist thinking. SEE??
This is why I hate myself. Just when I thought I was more mature and wiser, I return to my old thoughts about my worthlessness and suicide.
I had this dream too.
I was campaigning for a position in the government, but instead of my mother helping, she was leading the campaign against me. She hates me. And that hurt me.
And then somehow, people found out I had this phobia of sharp objects that can draw blood, especially broken glass. Then suddenly, my brother throws this piece of broken glass at me, at my neck, and out pours blood. And that sickened me.
Of course, at this point, I woke up. But not without folding my neck over and keeping a hand over it, still uneasy about both parts of the dream.
But I dunno, maybe this is my brain sending me subliminal messages about how much my mother hates me? Or how much I need her?
I don't know. I'm confused. And alone.
But I know I have God...but I know that I'm not exactly on his good side either. But I know that he has forgiven me and he will continue to do so.
But what what do you do when you yourself are disgusted and hate yourself and think you don't deserve even a quarter portion of forgiveness from those who will be so kind as to willingly forgive you? What if you realize that you believe you don't even deserve their love and forgiveness?
And I don't. I really don't. That's why I hate myself even more.
GAHHHHH.
But then, what was the point of this entry? Kapayapaan. Peace.
When we had the mass, the priest's homily centered on peace. And it was like God meant for that sermon to be utterly for me. I couldn't help crying during the mass.
I hate crying in public.
The priest said that peace is not merely the absence of war (I'd think that of course he was talking about peace in the elections and in our country too...) but it meant peace with ourselves too.
And as you can see, I have this deep inner turmoil within.
Then he said, we must remember that we weren't made out of evil, out of darkness and Satan. We were made by God, from a part of him and are destined to become a part of him.
We are made out of light.
Then he also said that we can't have peace unless we have peace with other people. And you know I have none of that with my mother.
Lastly, as I remembered, he said whenever we give peace to others, it isn't our own peace we're giving. It is the peace of God we're offering to others.
Is this a message from God?
I don't know too.
But I'm hoping it is. and half-hoping it is not because I still can't find it in my heart to forgive and love myself and in turn give forgiveness and love to others.
See, the point is...
I hate me.
I hate myself. But I would give anything to love myself again.
Yesterday, we had a Cabochan Motorcade in Caloocan, 2nd District, as a last hurrah for Tito Carling's campaign. He is hoping to become the Congressman.
But that is not the subject of this entry. It's actually the mass that went after it.
But before that...
See, throughout my whole life, I have had an off-again, on-again relationship with my mother. She hates me. Then, sometimes I feel as if she loves me. So I'm one confused little girl. Well, I ain't that--according to her.
I'm the most arrogant, conceited, worthless piece of demonic horse shit that ever existed. (And the thing is...I agree.)
Thanks, mom.
So ironic. Heck, it's even friggin' Mother's Day today.
Perfect, right?
Anyhow, back to our weird relationship. The reason we break up? Simple.
My fault.
Always.
The reason we get back together? I admit it's my fault.
Always.
Or at least she gives this pre-forgiving (but not really) speech to me, wherein she clarifies how everything is my fault and none of it is hers. She has many different versions of it, but all they really come down to is: "I'm right; you're wrong. You'll always be wrong and I will always be right, so there's no use in you explaining your side to me. So shut up and I'll forgive you."
And all that's running through my mind is: "Here we go again. You're right... Yea, right."
Hahahaha... when did I ever turn into this arrogant, worthless piece of slob who disses her own mother? Oh, yeah. Ever since I was born, according to the one and only.
The thing is, whenever we fight, she usually makes me feel like sh--. And the thing is, I have no defense against it...why? Because there's this stupid function deeply embedded in the human genome that compels all human beings to love their parents...no matter how undeserving they may be...and to yearn that love to be given in return.
So I'm helpless against all the daggers she throws at my heart, and all I can do is to act like I'm completely unaffected by all of it.
But she doesn't really realize there's a huge chink in my armor, and even if she does and I tell her, she's gonna be overjoyed about it and I ... I admit it, I just can't really stand the fact that she wins this one...
again.
And I lose. Again.
And I hate myself a little more.
Here ought to lie a divider sine I'll be discussing the next main point.
You see, I've always thought I had a healthy dose of self-esteem.
I'm not anorexic, bulimic, a smoker, an alcoholic, I don't have suicidal thoughts, I don't lash myself. I carry myself with confidence. I'm confident in my beliefs, or at least I know who I am and what I chose to believe in. I'm not lost in this place called life. I know what I want to accomplish. I do have the end in mind. I read self-help books, I read psychological books.
I'm the person who gives the inspiration, not the one who receives it. Of course, at some point, we must receive inspiration, but I already have this huge stock of it (due to a time in my life when I had harbored this deep hatred and disgust for myself and thought of dying just to end it all but then had a huge turnabout)that I keep on adding to with my own realizations/eureka moments/observations. That's why I hate it when people speaking to inspire think the things they're sharing are new and awesome and is supposed to inspire me when I've already heard/known about it before. And that's also why I am awed and highly respect those who give new inspiration to me, enlightening me more, giving me new thoughts and inspiration for new realizations.
But the thing is, I've realized, I do hate myself...or I began to do it AGAIN--even though I thought I was past that and already larger, much larger than myself before that I won't even stoop to that level anymore.
But people would never, ever, ever think--ever even conceive of the enormity of the intense hatred I have for myself.
And I do.
Why?
Because I am selfish and conceited and have no grace, no humility, no repentance... I'm a BEACH.
And...there's no use blaming my mother for it because I must learn to take responsibility for my life...but
she is one large reason I hate myself. Or at least she's the one who made me realize why I should hate myself by displaying them all out right before my face.
She made me realize that no one really needs me. (And here is why I believe people need to feel needed by others.) If I die, my mom has Ileana, the school has about 249 other students in my batch, they could replace me anywhere. My parents don't need me, my family doesn't need me. My sisters have Ileana and my parents. My brothers have their parents. My uncle and aunts have their children, my grandmother has her children...Now this sounds so stupid but it really made sense when I was thinking of it myself in my depressed little brain. POINT IS, IF I DIE, NO ONE WOULD CARE.
But I also thought that I could make myself needed by being the ideal person everyone would need...but isn't that too just another view people have of me that I'm trying to fit myself into? So would that truly work out in the end and make me effective and happy? I don't really know.
Now comes back my existentialist thinking. SEE??
This is why I hate myself. Just when I thought I was more mature and wiser, I return to my old thoughts about my worthlessness and suicide.
I had this dream too.
I was campaigning for a position in the government, but instead of my mother helping, she was leading the campaign against me. She hates me. And that hurt me.
And then somehow, people found out I had this phobia of sharp objects that can draw blood, especially broken glass. Then suddenly, my brother throws this piece of broken glass at me, at my neck, and out pours blood. And that sickened me.
Of course, at this point, I woke up. But not without folding my neck over and keeping a hand over it, still uneasy about both parts of the dream.
But I dunno, maybe this is my brain sending me subliminal messages about how much my mother hates me? Or how much I need her?
I don't know. I'm confused. And alone.
But I know I have God...but I know that I'm not exactly on his good side either. But I know that he has forgiven me and he will continue to do so.
But what what do you do when you yourself are disgusted and hate yourself and think you don't deserve even a quarter portion of forgiveness from those who will be so kind as to willingly forgive you? What if you realize that you believe you don't even deserve their love and forgiveness?
And I don't. I really don't. That's why I hate myself even more.
GAHHHHH.
But then, what was the point of this entry? Kapayapaan. Peace.
When we had the mass, the priest's homily centered on peace. And it was like God meant for that sermon to be utterly for me. I couldn't help crying during the mass.
I hate crying in public.
The priest said that peace is not merely the absence of war (I'd think that of course he was talking about peace in the elections and in our country too...) but it meant peace with ourselves too.
And as you can see, I have this deep inner turmoil within.
Then he said, we must remember that we weren't made out of evil, out of darkness and Satan. We were made by God, from a part of him and are destined to become a part of him.
We are made out of light.
Then he also said that we can't have peace unless we have peace with other people. And you know I have none of that with my mother.
Lastly, as I remembered, he said whenever we give peace to others, it isn't our own peace we're giving. It is the peace of God we're offering to others.
Is this a message from God?
I don't know too.
But I'm hoping it is. and half-hoping it is not because I still can't find it in my heart to forgive and love myself and in turn give forgiveness and love to others.
See, the point is...
I hate me.
I hate myself. But I would give anything to love myself again.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
CARLING CABOCHAN. Una sa Kabutihan. (Walang Kalokohan. Totoong Usapan. :))
Hey guys! I just need a little help. I know everyone hates chain messages, but it sure is an effective way of getting things around. So here is a simple message I'm hoping you could forward to everyone, even though I won't be threatening you with a little girl you will see in your mirror at 12 midnight. PLEASE, for anyone living or who knows someone living in CALOOCAN, VOTE my uncle, Carling Cabochan for the Congress, 2nd District. Una sa Kabutihan :) He's just a little behind his main competitor, and the simple clicking away at the keyboards that you will do for him to spread the news may change the outcome of the final elections! Thank you! --Kristina Cabochan
Yes, that is the CHAIN MESSAGE I sent to everyone I know in YM. :) HAHAHAH! Please, whoever else is in Caloocan or affiliated with anyone from there, vote or tell others to vote for my uncle. I can guarantee you his honesty, sincerity, and true benevolence. Having seen him in action and asked him about his intentions, I know that his heart is in the right place.
SPREAD THE WORD.
Yes, that is the CHAIN MESSAGE I sent to everyone I know in YM. :) HAHAHAH! Please, whoever else is in Caloocan or affiliated with anyone from there, vote or tell others to vote for my uncle. I can guarantee you his honesty, sincerity, and true benevolence. Having seen him in action and asked him about his intentions, I know that his heart is in the right place.
SPREAD THE WORD.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Forgot
Ok. I just had another epiphany. But I forgot about it again. Oh well. I'll just share this little wisecrack that made me crack up from the book "Wisecracks" by Tom Burns
"Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak."
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