beingbeaple

Ever since I’ve been sleeping for ten hours each night, I’ve been having dreams that don’t really make much sense. I mean, yes, they do make quite a lot of sense considering the fact that they’re all about me and my friends from school, but they always come in a weird way. What I’m trying to say here is my dreams are like episodes of a soap opera: there are separate dreams portraying separate events. The funny thing is these events don’t link with each other at all – there’s simply no connection between the scenes of my dreams.

Sigh.

For example, just last night, my first dream involved a stroll through a run-down market by some sort of river. I was just walking, looking at the stalls – some with goods for sale, others without – and wondering with the river was dirty when I bumped into my best friend. Karla, looking very white as usual and clutching a wicker basket, told me this was actually her province – what on Earth was I doing there? I was telling her I didn’t know what on Earth I was doing there when the dream shifted and suddenly, JC Cuadrado was inviting me into his house. And for some reason, I was watching the shows on cable through his tiny black and white TV.

Then I found myself walking with him along this path similar to the trails they have at the Peak in

Hong Kong

. I was just chatting with him, trying to catch up with him because he was walking so darn fast when I found myself falling off a giant, Chinese-looking tree. So I was falling off the tree into the city below – incidentally, the tree was on the edge of this cliff – and I was actually on the verge of fainting – in my dream, of course – when my dream self somehow managed to grab a root of the tree. I didn’t fall off.

Instead I found myself safe and sound by the side of the tree, there by the trail. When I looked up to investigate the tree however, I saw

Carmel

up there, the back of her shirt stuck to this weak-looking branch. Her walker was on the trail up ahead and she was telling me to get her off the blasted tree. I ran for help, found Clint, and for a while, we actually tried poking her off the tree using a stick – kind of like the way my cousins poked at siriguelas in our grandfather’s backyard in

Bohol

. Clint was doing the poking, Carmel somehow feel asleep and I was cheering Clint on, shouting a bit each time Carmel looked as if she was about to fall into the void below her.

The noise issuing from my mouth had gathered quite a lot of people. I turned away from the poking Clint and found myself face to face with Karla – again. My friends were all there, each one trying to find a way to get

Carmel

off the Fate-forsaken branch. Jasmine and James even managed to get the poking stick from Clint; I remember Karla telling me to look away even though it’s usually Jeanne who tells me that sort of thing. When I mustered the courage to look again, I saw Chris in the little gazebo up ahead, laughing and pointing at me with his wristwatch.

I can’t remember exactly how we managed to get

Carmel

off the branch but it seems as if we did. Next thing I knew, I was chatting to Ogi while buying something – ice pop, I think it was – from a store that looked oddly like the store at the corner of our street.

Then there was this whole issue about racing in a lake and my friends all just disappeared. I just ended up watching this little girl’s life story – I think that was the intermission of the whole dream movie.

This is the point where I woke up. A quick glance at my watch – which I hardly remove – told me it was close to three in the morning. After telling my mother she was going to fall off the bed if she didn’t move - my parents and I sleep in one room because we all like the room upstairs – I drifted off to dreamland.

I found myself at a beach resort. There weren’t really a lot of people there; in fact, the place gave off an impression of being deserted. But after a few minutes of walking, I found myself in the school gym, watching some people – who didn’t look like Kong Huanians to me – practice this interpretative dance. I saw Leo and Al in one corner, both wearing white. While Leo was off, dancing in the middle of the gym, I told Al happily that I had added him up in Friendster.

Then, because I had seen something I didn’t feel like watching, I went out on a walk and found myself at the beach again. I came across Virn, whose nose was bleeding. She was asking me for help and for some unknown reason, I remember her wearing cream slippers with yellow strings. I led her to the bathroom and waited while she was there. But she was taking so long and I was getting impatient so I walked back to the gym.

I suppose I shouldn’t have.

I entered through Fire Exit A and face right. The first thing I saw was them and Jee Ann. Then, I saw something that made me say out loud something like I shouldn’t have gone there. I walked out, furious. Then I came back, looked at their shocked faces for a while, then walked out again.

I had only made it to the

when the girls were around me, telling me that he was only feeling bad that’s why they thought of comforting him – it seemed that was the only thing they thought would give him comfort. My mind was somewhat blank and I was determined to walk off when he suddenly came, grabbed her. He looked as if he meant to kiss her and I was just so overwhelmed that I looked away –

And woke up.

I found myself alone. Surprisingly, I was not crying when I woke up, unlike all the others times when I awoke, crying my eyes out after having a dream resembling that. No, I just lay there, thinking of what I had seen, shocked, angry, confused – but then again I knew no one cared what I felt about the issue anyway, so I kept thinking. It was nearly eight and I was really supposed to go down and watch Saturday morning toons, but I just lay there in my bed, hugging a pillow, trying to forget the dream, and willing myself to go back to sleep – perhaps I would dream of Harry Potter this time. But I was too wide awake for sleep to come again.

So what I did was formulate a blog entry for what happened. I knew it would be a completely useless blog entry, but I just feel like saying what happened.

Just for the purpose of – perhaps – moving on after that nightmare.

Poof!

Somehow, I think it’s ironic that I got sick with bronchitis right after I posted that comment about everything being so "frictionless". I was stuck with a horrible, gagging cough and something resembling a fever - yes, it was only a shadow of a fever and that’s what irritates me most - for almost a week. That’s why I was missing in action during the exams (I’m still unsure whether this is a cause for celebration or not). Actually I’ve been cured since Monday - just sitting pretty around the house having a Harry Potter readathon - but I haven’t gone to school until this afternoon - to arrange my special exam sched - because I didn’t feel like it. Call me a coward or anything you wish, I just don’t feel like going to school yet. Sigh…

So as I was saying, I bet you anything it was karma that gave me bronchitis. The moral of the story is to never complain about good luck because the Fates are going to steal it from you if you do - complain about having good luck, I mean.  I’m telling you this because I don’t want you - whoever you are - to follow my footsteps and end up like me. Although it IS highly unlikely for anyone to complain about good luck… anyone other than myself, I mean.

There are some good things that came out of this whole fiasco about me getting sick. Quite a good number of people from school called, bothered that the class was getting too quiet without my mouth working tirelessly inside its four walls. Mary even calls daily, you know, and we always talk about mundane stuff that nevertheless cheer me up. All of them seemed worried and even though I really dislike doing anything to worry people - especially if it involves getting pitied or something - I really did feel somewhat flattered that all these people were showing concern.

Best of all was the reaction of my parents when they found out I was sick. Because I have a history of running away from school before - once I pleaded absence from classes just because I didn’t feel like dragging myself all the way to KHS - my mother didn’t believe I was sick. When she realize that I was indeed sick, she started… I don’t know.. acting like a mother I guess.

As expected, my dad went somewhat ballistic. But he did do skip a seminar just to stand guard over me and that’s saying something.

So there I was, feeling very happy and contented despite the fact that I couldn’t doing anything out of bed - considering I’m not a very active human there wasn’t really much to complain about - until my parents rushed me to the hospital - yup, they are… what’s the term? Homo… H something… scared of diseases - at three in the morning last Thursday. The doctor there said I had a lot of phlegm but she wanted to be sure with her diagnosis so she suggested a CBC - Complete Blood Count. I mean, Dengue is rampant these days - I have a friend who was struck by dengue TWICE, making him deathly scared of mosquitoes and fondly attached to the pink, scented OFF! - so they were all afraid I had it or something like that. So yeah, I was pricked - can’t find any other word to describe it - four times on the same arm… mainly because the med techs couldn’t find a good-enough vein on my left arm.

All in all it was an enlightening experience. I learned that some people really do care about me. I learned that it’s painful to get sick so I should be thankful I don’t get sick very often. I learned that sleeping for ten hours every day and skipping exams really does make one feel better. I learned that it’s always best to have a Harry Potter readathon if you’re not missing your copy of the Chamber of Secrets. Above all, I learned that there’s a reason for everything - that we should always be thankful for good luck and that we should never question our gifts. As mere mortals, all we can do is do our best to be worthy of these gifts.

Poof!

            As I wait for this hideously snail-like Internet connection to link to my Friendster blog, I am typing in MS Word, trying to come up with an entry to describe how my day went.

            …

            My day wasn’t that bad actually. In fact, these past few days have been so glorious that it seems almost selfish to acknowledge the fact that they’ve existed in my life. Forgive me for being such a skeptic, but I start getting seriously freaked out if everything goes smoothly. In Physics, there is this sort of law or theory or whatever that says any object will never run “smoothly” because of the presence of friction.

            And right now, everything is going well in my life and I’m just wondering: where on Earth is the friction? Where is that force that always pulls me down when I’m on a high? Because I can’t help but be wary, thinking that all this euphoria in me will boil down to nothing soon because of some unexpected phenomenon that will cause me much pain and suffering.

            Ugh. Enough pessimism. I’m just so happy now that I don’t even want to go back to my old habits of sulking.

            Anyway, let me tell you this uncanny observation I’ve come up with after hanging around with Virn and Jee Ann so much…

            Here’s the thing: let me tell you that based on what I’ve seen so far, I can say that engineers’ daughters are not normal people. I mean, my dad is a graduate of Agricultural Engineering and I’m not exactly what you’d call normal, am I? My friend Virn is normal – compared to me, anyway – but the fact that she’s a feministic man-hater at the age of 15 is kind of scary, don’t you think? And Jee Ann is weird in a good way – the way she eats the meat first when she has hamburgers for snacks, the way she stares of into space for long periods straight, etc. Oh, and did you know that Ma’am Maghanoy’s dad is an engineer, too???

            Okay, I shall not elaborate. Friends, it is up to you to understand what on Earth I’m yakking about.

            But you know, even though we’re weird, I still think we’re good people. We’re likeable and we each have our own distinct personalities to be proud of. Another advantage on our part is we’re totally serious about our future – we know what we want and we sort of know how to get it. We’re driven, we’re ambitious, and we’ve got the right to be all that! Tee hee!

            Sigh. I’m getting too sappy again.

            I’m on duty tomorrow so must go off and do other important stuff – ehem, ehem, find cute pics for my profile.

            Poof!

I’ve never really been adept at handling social situations such as barkada trips and family gatherings. I’m the type of girl who would definitely fit the description "couch potato" for I RARELY voluntarily go out to "engage in healthy interaction with people from outside my household". I’m not sweet and I’m not sophisticated; all that I have is my attitude - sass and spunk that would give Kagome (from Inu Yasha, in case anyone can relate) a run for her money.

It’s my cousin’s and my uncle’s birthday today. The "three of us" - I am referring to my mother, my father, and me - went to my aunt’s house to celebrate. Not that I don’t like being at my aunt’s or whatever, but the moment I finished eating I felt like going back home - what an ungrateful little guest I am! Seriously, it somehow felt surreal that I was there in that setting, listening to some half-drunk guy singing a golden oldie and looking on as other people enjoyed the night away. I was just a girl who kept trotting after her mother because she was afraid of being left at a table all by herself…

To think, even my outfit didn’t match! Imagine wearing ultra-high heels while traipsing in a mud-covered path! Honestly!

I would have loved to stay in the party if I had someone - aside from my parents - to talk to or something. But you know, even if my cousins were there I bet I still wouldn’t have fit that well either. I mean, most of my cousins are boys - and God knows I’m not very good at conversations with members of the opposite sex, whether we are blood-related or not - and the girls are just too young or too old. Something like that.

It seriously feels different when you’re an only child. Sure, being a soloist has it perks - you get almost everything you want, you learn to live by your own standards and rules, etc - but in the long run, kids with larger families still have better "people skills". Yes, I can talk to a LARGE crowd of people without feeling even slightly abashed, but try to see me when I’m "alone with a stranger" and you’ll wonder if THAT’s the same person who’s writing this entry.

Of course, there are those special entities that I feel tightly bonded with. For example, I can sit with Jee Ann for hours without saying more than a thousand words and still know that she doesn’t FULLY mind my inability to carry a decent conversation. Just the way we sat in my old room this afternoon - her watching Lord of the Rings: Return of the King because she hasn’t finished it yet; me reading something I’m not really supposed to be reading. But even though we didn’t even talk that much - just a few quips about Orlando Bloom’s transformation from Legolas to Will Turner - I still felt amazingly comfortable with her.

Hmm. I guess it’s just the friendship factor. I’m blessed to have friends like that.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always been addicted to the thought of writing something other people would actually want to read. My obsession for writing began when I was in fourth grade, and sad to say, until now I am still a frustrated writer. I joined the school paper because I wanted to have an outlet for all these creative energies boiling up inside me, but the higher I rose in the Campus Observer ladder - shucks, as if we’re talking about corporate law or anything remotely similar to that - the more trapped I felt.

It’s hard to explain but that’s seriously what I feel right now. Do you know what it’s like to have a writer’s block? To have that nagging, gnawing feeling that you have to jot something down on ink and paper but you just can’t find the right words to use to get everything out of your system? Well, I’ve been suffering writer’s block for almost two years now… I haven’t been able to write anything decent lately, waah!

But as they say: Nothing can stop a person from fulfilling his (or in my case, her) passion! So here I am, using this blog as an avenue for all my teenage angst and "literary juices" if there are such things… Just please, please forgive me if the stuff I’m yakking about seem to be quite mundane and hopelessly ordinary…

As I’m sure you’ll soon find out if you stick close enough to my blog, I have an unexplainable fascination for all things mundane and hopelessly ordinary. Seriously.

The morning prayer this morning was way too early - Virn and some other pips were complaining about it… Not that I don’t like praying or anything - please don’t get any ideas like that - but I used the time alloted for the morning prayer and the first of the Joyful mysteries to answer my unanswered Computer assignment - to think we didn’t even check the assignment…

And hohoho… It would be silly of me to admit this but I didn’t answer my Computer assignment last night because I was busy posting comments in candymag.com’s Teen Talk. Tee hee! I really must get a grip…

Fast forward to the afternoon… Hmm… After visiting the nearest net cafe to research for that Filipino article Sir Ryan asked us to submit - again I did not research that last night because I was busy with other "productive" endeavors - I helped Phamela with the Movie for the Mission Fund-Raiser of the FI Youth (dang, only half of the people who watched yesterday’s film returned to watch the feature this afternoon) and then I psyched myself up for the Speech oration activity… And I was pacing here and there, muttering this speech to myself:

THE FORGOTTEN

History bears witness to the fact that when a nation turns traitor to God, it also turns traitor to man. Witness Hitler’s Germany. Witness Mussolini’s Italy. Witness Stalin’s Russia. For when you take away God, you shatter the very foundation of equality and human rights. And when you trample over these, you cannot, I repeat, ladies and gentlemen, you cannot have peace…

Strange isn’t it, that we can forget the most fundamental things, the things children never forget. To the weary, waiting world we say, "All else has failed. Why not turn to practical acknowledgement of God in our world councils and in our private lives? Out of the wilderness man has made of God’s world, the voice of God still rings. A poet once put these words on the lips of God, and somehow, I think that God smiles at the very thought of them…

"Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest, it is I whom though seekest… It is I… I"

Of course, the entire IV Wisdom had to recite that because our Speech Instructress chose it for us. We varied only in our creative presentations: Jen chose to talk one-on-one with Ma’am, JV had a sitting scene, Lloyd had a sigh effect, Al pulled together an angry man drama, and Mac delivered his lines while pretending to be a Smeagol-Emily Rose hybrid. Seriously, I liked Alex’s best. He was so cool and calm, and he really managed to get me to listen to him and relate to what he was talking about…

Me? Oh, I think I did pretty fine. I nearly said world as word, but I think I mastered the thing well enough to skive off a failing grade.

And after the afternoon classes, we had practices for the Animated Rosary. We finally, finally found somebody to play the Child Jesus by convincing Martin to act the part. Tee hee! God bless Leo and his ability to motivate people to do things they normally wouldn’t do given normal circumstances!

That’s how my day went… Not so bad huh? To cap it all, I’ve got three new friends in Friendster, yippee!

Anyway, I have to go now. Must post in Teen Talk! *wink,wink*

Poof!

Blogging Degree
From Go-Quiz.com

I am an Aries. (Also known as "Ram") My Horroscope starts like this:
" Aggressive to the extreme, the Aries is primitive - warlike and cruel. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, he often has trouble remembering the simplest of things. The Aries will often try to backstab his peers, but luckily, he usually lacks the mental capacity to succeed. He is vulgar and blunt, and incapable of subtelty. " (Read more | Find yours)

Sad… sad…

As I was tried to log on to my blog on blogspot.com, I realized I had forgotten my password… It’s stupid, I know that, but ever since I was younger, I’ve been plagued by this uncanny inability to remember the stuff that matter most. I mean, I can remember trivia like the name of Alexander the Great’s favorite horse but I can hardly stick in my head things like passwords and friends’ phone numbers…

So here I am, trying to find a life by starting a blog in Friendster. Of course, I had to lie and say I was eighteen just so I could get a blog account so I’m sort of guilty… I mean, I won’t be turning eighteen until three years from now…

Then again, sometimes circumstances compel one to lie, right? Right??

Sigh… I miss my old blog. The one with all my idyllic thoughts and random ramblings… I can’t post everything in my head now because then everyone from school would be able to read them and I WOULD REALLY GET INTO TROUBLE…

But I suppose having a blog like this isn’t really that bad. At least, I’d have some outlet for all these creative juices bottled up in my head.

Hmmm… I don’t really feel like writing much tonight… That’s strange… For me, I mean…

Must go - will evaporate! Poof!!

P.S. Get well soon, Jeanne! You too, Clint!

P.S. 2 - Tee hee!
My old blog in blogspot.com was this! Pardon the horrible background by being technologically-slow I was unable to make it breathtaking or anything like that…