Midnight Reflection.

First of all, holy shit. It’s been half a year since my last entry on this blog. Damn. Okay anyways, tonight I reflect about my life: mindsets, wisdom, and learnings.

My mom is close-minded. I am not saying this out of negativity, I am just stating it as a matter-of-fact. It’s probably one of the main reasons why we have arguments frequently.

For one, being a lazy ass bum who likes to do a lot of things, I forget to take a bath once in a while (don’t worry, happens less than 5x a year lol). She calls me untidy because of it. NLP dictates that it’s an attack on my identity and not on my capabilities for a specific day… and it’s funny because she only washes (not shampoo, but simply just wash it with water) her hair only once to thrice a month.

Now I think this is one of the biggest reasons why we’ll never be completely in agreement with other people. We all live as either close- or open-minded people, none of either is better than the other. Simply put, it’s just a way of life. A way of looking at things and how they work for us. Both have its pros and cons.

As much as I’d like to think being open-minded has helped me become fair and neutral, I do believe that it has made me into someone who does not have a solid decision once in a while; someone loyal to a course, kinda.

Maybe I can use this insight into how I am an open-minded adult right now whose focus is material things. Investment is my passion yet I forget to appreciate it because of the things I want now. To remind myself that rationalizations are okay and acceptable but should not always be listened to.

I will invest responsibly and spend money efficiently. I can have all the things I want… all in each thing’s right time: from my car, to Airsoft, my camera, my girlfriend, my family.

I will be better.

For the week.

Every Monday morning I’d drive you to work, kiss your forehead and wish you luck.
You’d smile, tell me you love me, thank me for driving you to work, and leave.

Every Tuesday night we eat at that really weird restaurant you like. I was never a fan of Ramen, but I like how you smile when the food tastes good.
You tell me about work, how stressful it is, and you apologize for not texting me much because of how busy you are.
I smile, tell you it’s okay and I’m proud of how hardworking you are.

Every Wednesday, I’d drive you home. Your mom never liked me, so I’d just stay outside your gate and kiss you on the cheek before saying goodbye.
You’d tell me that one of these days she’d approve of us, and I’d thank you for securing me.

Every Thursday, we’d fetch your little brother from school and we’d go to the mall.
You’d thank me for not getting tired of doing all of these for us, so your family would approve.
I tell you about how everything will be much better after we overcome this part.
We’d laugh as your brother tells us we’re looking at each other weird again.

Every Friday night, you’d tell me how much you hate me for asking where you are hour by hour, and we’d fight about it.
I’d apologize, promise not to do it again, and scold myself for being too clingy.

Every Saturday, I’d go to the park where we met. I’d sit on the bench overlooking the rest of the park, just staring at you from afar, looking at how beautiful you are.
You’d tell me you’re in the office and you’re not able to text, and I’d just tell you to not forget to eat. I never told anyone I knew the truth.
He’d buy you your favorite ice cream, make you laugh, tickle you.
You’d be on the same spot where I asked you to be mine… as you sit on his lap, chatting and giggling.
He’d stop you from tickling him, look straight into your eyes, move your hair to the side, smile, then put his lips against yours.
You’d play with his hair while you kiss him back.
I’d tell you I’m out with friends for drinks, and I’d go home and drink myself to sleep.

Every Sunday you’d wake me up with a good morning text, telling me about how busy you were the whole Saturday that you weren’t able to text.
I’d tell you it’s no problem,
I’d tell myself it’s fine,
and I’d wish
Like I do every Sunday
that one Monday
you’d have stopped seeing him
and you’d kiss my lips the way you kissed his
and tell me
and only me
that you love me.
——————————————————-

Fictional. Made out of boredom. 🙂

Spending.

Today was my first time to “splurge” money, since it was also my first salary. It wasn’t for a celebration though. It was for groceries and stuff I’d need in my apartment. Also, it’s because I haven’t managed to budget my money properly for everything I’ve been spending on.  Not to mention the fact that I don’t know anything about the utilities and such.

It’s not bad though. In fact, I find it liberating. All this happening to me. I’m excited and nervous for what is to come, but knowing how I think, I’m likely to focus on “now” than “soon”.

10-21-2014

First step forward.

First day in this apartment. First night last night. Moved in around 9PM, which my mom and dad obviously didn’t like because it was too late of a night. It was safe though, thankfully.

I can’t say much about it, really. I guess I’m pretty excited about all this, or thrilled. I met 4 of my housemates last night too. Kat, Jom, Raffy, and Roy.

This is it. I’m starting on a new path now. GG.

10-17-2014.

Glad There Wasn’t Suicide.

April 22, 2014. 6:07 PM

Today my mom and I checked bed frames for me to use. Though I don’t really know why she wants to buy a new one; stingy old me likes the bed frame I have now….even though it’s old…and creaky…and old.

We also checked the showroom for the condominium unit we’ll be having by July. I’ll be sharing it with my sister, who would mostly be NOT in the vicinity because her work requires her to go to Visayas and Mindanao sometimes to talk to company clients.

Today I realized how much life still has to offer for me, even though I sucked big time with my recent failures. I’m glad my parents still accepted me for who I am.

Most of all, I’m glad I didn’t kill myself.

I wouldn’t admit I was wrong. That time, with the feelings I felt, and with the thoughts I had, suicide looked like a good idea. All I’m saying is life is still good now that I’m still alive.

I’m writing this now, here in Pho Hoa SM North, because I’d want to remember the feelings and thoughts I’m having right now for the future.

I love my parents. I love my girlfriend. I love my best friends.

It’s just really up to me to have enough reasons to convince myself that I actually do love myself.

Tried.

Well, today I tried to join an appeal to allow us to join the graduation ceremony this 26th, even though we’ll be summer graduates.

All I could think of was I wanted to do it for my parents; so they’d at least see me go up the stage and get a diploma, even though it may be fake. 

But at least, even though the appeal was rejected, I know I tried to have that one last push for my parents. Now I just have to accept the truth, no matter how sad it is.

Dilemma.

March 18, 2014; 11:36 PM

Great, I’ve been asked if I wanted to dance this Friday for the graduating batch’s Baccalaureate Mass. How cute.

It was a plan way back; graduating students had to perform. Back then I was so excited to be a part of it; back then, I didn’t have the problems that pulled me down so badly.

I’m blogging right now to help me decide on this.

If I dance:

1. I’d have fun.
2. I’d perform for my batchmates, probably one last time.
3. I wouldn’t be able to go to tomorrow’s art fair.
4. It’s possible I’d feel embarrassed being seen by everyone, since they MIGHT talk about me and my story of not graduating this March.
5. I’d have this time to perform with the other graduating students from my crew.

If I don’t dance:

1. Nobody would mind me.
2. I’d be as okay as I am now.
3. I might regret it.
4. People might talk about me, since they’d know I’m from that crew and would wonder why I’m not part of the performance.

So this is basically a dead-end for me, and I’m starting to think that dancing would be a better option for me.

Sucks not being able to graduate. It really really sucks.

I just have to suck it up, I guess. Move on and stay strong. For my family, friends, and myself.

I’ll endure this.

Disappointment.

March 15, 2014. 12:05 AM

Today, I’m gonna tell my parents what happened.

I had a removals exam, and I still failed it. I’m not gonna go on stage and march to get my diploma.

I’ve realized that people really are optimism when they’re in a position when someone has to be; in this case, when they had to comfort me. But I’m glad that their relief is also helping me feel relieved whenever they hear from me that I’m gonna get my diploma this summer, not after another semester.

I do feel embarrassed and sad, but I’m happy that the people I’ve chosen to be around have been supporting and sweet. Even though I risked my 2nd semester trying to find who my true friends were, I guess, this is what made it worth it for the long run.

I’m sorry, Ma and Pa.

Ashamed.

March 10, 2014. 12:34 AM.

I still can’t say it. I still can’t tell my family I’ve failed to graduate.

I feel so ashamed. So useless. So stupid.

Well, I probably am, anyways. I’m a failure. And I’m blurting all this negativity out not to ask for pity from people, but because I have no other choice but to verbally slap myself in the face for being like this.

The timing was wrong. It was awful. I wonder, if I didn’t lose my friends, if I didn’t lose myself, if I kept the focus and the required concentration to do shit properly for my academics, would things be different?

If I told my professor before the deliberations all of the things I was going through, would he pity me and not fail me?

I can only regret. There’s nothing else to do, anyways. Sooner or later my family will find out the truth, whether or not it comes from me.

Then I’d have to accept the fact that my friends from this batch will graduate and I won’t. That I wouldn’t be going up a stage to shake someone’s hand as I accept my diploma and feel so proud that I’ve successfully finished college for my parents.

I’m so embarrassed. I’m so ashamed. And if it wasn’t for my best friend and my girlfriend being there for me, I would’ve probably killed myself yesterday. I had it all planned, too. I hated what they did for me, but at the same time, I’m glad they reached out.

Confusions. Frustrations. Anger. Envy. Bitterness.

Perfect Downhill.

March 8, 2014.

It probably can’t get any worse than this, except if I die.

Losing friends. Losing motivation. Losing emotion. Total apathy.

I thought I was already at my worst that time, nobody to support me in class because I was like a ghost drifting away from people I was scared to be attached to. At the very least, I wasn’t wrong that they didn’t actually care for me; the Guidance Counselor told me that it’s a weakness of mine, actually, being easily attached to people.

And all I wanted was for everything to end. I didn’t care about anything else, really. I just wanted it to be over with.

Now I’m here, typing, because I can’t even “get it over with”. Why? Because I’m not graduating. I failed.

I failed.

I failed my parents. My girlfriend. The few close friends I have. Myself.

I failed myself, for fuck’s sake.

It was the least I could do for my parents to show that I was grateful for all their efforts; that even though I was a lazy-ass bummer in their eyes because they didn’t know the struggles I went through inside the classroom (which isn’t their fault because I didn’t say or show anything) I could still graduate on time. But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t make them proud and go up the stage to get my diploma. It was the only thing they wanted after giving me all the things I have now, but I couldn’t even do it. I just had to fuck things up one last time and ruin the only joy I’ve had left; to actually reach a tunnel’s end.

Ironic, really, how I tried to be honest and shit, not trying to cheat on this certain subject while most of my blockmates would try so hard to do so. Some of them got caught, but didn’t fail like I did. They made it. Should I be inspired? Should I feel like I should’ve copied shit too since it would give me a better future?

They keep on saying shit about how the grades don’t define you. It’s true. It doesn’t. But it enables people to easily judge you; you don’t graduate on time, you’re stupid. You’re a failure. You’re a flunk, below the average who could make it to the stage with the diploma.

This is great. Just great. I wonder how people laugh at me right now, knowing I fucked it up.

They’re probably celebrating, knowing that they’re finally done with school.

Me? I’m here. Typing. Failed a subject and wouldn’t graduate. Disappointing my parents, not knowing how to explain.