Been thinking about this for over a month or two, and now I'm certain. It's about time. You can still view some of my previous posts and I'd probably still be posting public entries every now and then (when the situation calls for it) but for now, this is the most appropriate thing to do.

     After all, it all boils down to friends.

    Sometimes I ask why I exist. I gloom in wonder for hours, without an appetite, religiously losing my sanity. Sometimes it feels as if I am forever lost and trapped in oblivion, searching for a way out, and I can only stop searching ( until all is lost into the beauty of the day )

     The first time I saw her, I felt the ultimate fusion of emotions. My hands went numb, my knees went weak and my head went a-spinning. My whole system was shocked and confused. I walked away in abstraction, wanting to catch my breath, wanting to admit that THIS is the REAL world, wanting to look at her again. I felt constipated and dehydrated at the same time and going to the loo seemed like the only reasonable thing to do.

     The feel of cold water splashed on my face was electrifying. It felt like being slapped by a certain "LM" (captain of the high school varsity team, killer spiker) which meant I was back to almost-sane mode again. I saw my pale 19-year-old reflection and digressed on the moles that popped out of nowhere for a while. My mobile phone screamed Oink Oink, just before things became too creepy (erm, right). The number was unregistered but the message was a very hyper:

LENG!Ü I HEARD! CONGRATS!Ü HOW U FILNG?! HOP UR NT SCARED!Ü REPLY SA PHONE KO! Ü
     With a smirked etched on my face, I thought, "Weirdo... why the hell would I be scared?" The answer came faster than the much anticipated August rain. I saw my reflection and fell silent on how vulnerable it looked. The moles said it all. I've been scared for the longest time and I knew it.

     I was afraid that she might take my mother away from me and my brother. I was afraid that I'd be completely ignored once she steps out. I was afraid that one look can shatter the invisible blanket of tranquility that covered her delicate body. I was afraid that if she saw me as my eyes burned in ominous sensation, she'll never look at me and I'd ruin my chances of gaining her trust. I was afraid that I'll never be the sister she'd want me to be. I was afraid of not being responsible enough. I was afraid of HER and what she'd do to the humanity, period.

     I WAS AFRAID... but not anymore. It was easy to overcome the fear, especially when you're as curious as a cat. Like a menacing five-year old I went back and stole another glimpse at the child. I was about to walk away when she looked at me and everything felt like a slow-motion-scene from a sappy high budget dramedy. I held her gaze and thought of only one thing. ( God, I want to be good for her. )

We've been through bad days...

...and bad hair days.
She's still the most beautiful woman I know.
( If I could be half the woman she is... )

Then again, being her daughter makes life more than good enough.
I ♥♥♥ you Mommy!

     I used to fantasize about this Maroon 5 song a lot. I used to make music videos out of it starring *ahem* me in sepia, and played it more than enough times in my head. It always gives me the kicks. I used to believe that it was definitely written for me and not for some woman named Jane. Wala lang. It's just so nice to think that there's someone out there who can actually make someone feel beautiful or special, even. Lalo na when you're experiencing the drabbest of your drab days.

     I'm not kikay. Minsan, napagkakamalan pa akong tibo. I'm not into make up because 1) I don't know how to put some on and 2) I feel awkward with all that stuff on my face. I do like clothes, but most of the time I'd rather wear something old and comfy than wear shoes that could kill my feet or tops that would make some random maniac staring at my chest, waiting for me to bend over to get a glimpse of my deceiving little breasts.

     But yes, I am intrigued with all that gunk and yes, I do splurge on lip stuff and eye whatnots. I do appreciate pretty clothes and frou frou. And yes, I enjoy following trends. Hey, sometimes I even wear pink, even if it's not my color. Not all the time, though. Because I feel much more confident when I'm comfortable.

     Shit, ang hirap maging babae. You're almost always pressured to look neat, sexy, beautiful. Even after hours of walking around town, you shouldn't perspire too much, your face shouldn't be too oily, you should always smell fresh from the showers.

     So when you realize that your hair suddenly falls into place, contrary to your bob that flies-farther-than-far-away you'd feel that you've earned ganda points, right? When you find that your sun-kissed cheeks are still rosy and you need not pinch them 100x for the perfect natural blush, you'd feel naturally pretty, diba? And when you realize that you can still be sexy naturally, you'd want people to notice, am I right or am I right?

     Today, I wore faded jeans, my trusty black Chucks and a *gasp* push up bra. I still looked like the average college girl, but I left home feeling extra confident and happy that for once, I looked beautiful cute.

     Then again, I still felt ugly.

     Thanks kay Nex, the only person who noticed I had boobies today. Sayang, you're gay.
     BTW: I'm not fishing for compliments, okay? REALLY

Finish the sentences by choosing the letter. No right or wrong answers.

Girls with shaved heads
   a) are lesbians.
   b) had too much Demi Moore in G.I. Jane.
   c) are punk rockers.

Boys who wear skirts are
   a) fashionistas (and are most likely gay).
   b) Scottish (and it's not a skirt, it's a kilt).
   c) are punk rockers.

Bisexuals and Homosexuals
   a) can't hold hands in public places.
   b) shouldn't cross-dress to look decent.
   c) will never be punk rockers, they are pop divas.

Couples
   a) living togetther w/o getting married are eternally damned.
   b) should only have sex after marriage.
   c) should be of the opposite sex.

     Is it really our responsibility to live by social norms? Do we really have to put up with the standards set by dead people we don't even kno?

     red_fire_bird and I were talking about our generic problems and concerns. Somehow the mind-boggling conversation made me re-evaluate my definition of self-respect and social responsibility.

     I don't want to be apathetic. And I want to make a change.

     You remember spending one whole day with him three semesters ago, when you both were assigned officials for the college volleyball games. During time-outs you talked about loads of things - he said he thought you were only 16 (you were 17 then), you said he should stick with his course (ECE, pare!). He made you laugh, he wiped the dirt off your face, gave you his tissue to wipe the barbecue sauce off your shirt.

     You wanted to die in shame because you thought you’re turning him off because of your ‘Batang Gusgusin’ act. Upon realizing what you just felt, your heart skipped a beat - you are ‘in crush’. You were just about to ask for his number when your boyfriend appears, planting a kiss on your forehead. New crush walks over to his position, blows his whistle, and calls the last set. At the end of the day, you realize you don’t even know his name.

     You never see him after that day. You wished on Orion’s belt to see him again before either of you graduates.

     Last night, you hosted a university-wide event sponsored by your org. You realized that there were quite a lot of people and you couldn’t find your friends. Your eyes grazed the audience and you finally stopped when you checked row 6. There he was. Looking at you, smiling at you, making you feel pretty without even saying a word. You told yourself to meet him after the show, but then he stood up and left. He turns around and waves at you. You wanted to leave the stage but you couldn’t.

     Because you still don’t know his name.