Monday, December 27, 2004

baduy na kung baduy

i always sing this song whenever i see my Jerry Yan look-alike crush pass by. doesn't matter if he's got a kid, doesn't matter if he's married (if he is). i just like seeing him. i especially like the look on my crush's face (the other one, the one with beautiful eyes) whenever i sing this song because i'm secretly singing this song to him. the Jerry Yan look-alike's name is Dan and my officemates and i revised the lyrics of this song to best suit him.

bawat araw sinusun-Dan
di ka naman tumitingin
ano'ng aking dapat gawin
kai-Dan, kai-Dan mo ba mapapansin ang aking lihim
kahit ano'ng aking gawin di mo pinapansin
kai-Dan, kai-Dan hahaplusin ang pusong bitin na bitin
kahit ano'ng gawing lambing, di mo pa rin pansin
i used to be this big Smokey Mountain fan.

whenever my crush with beautiful eyes is around, i never seem to look good or sing good. and to think i sing great. ask my UE Law kids. Jessica Zafra is a genius. she was right when she said that you will never look good in front of the person who makes your heart feel a-flutter. she was also right when she said that all good men are either taken or gay. and, if i might add, more often than not, they don't like you or find you interesting. they would much rather go for the fair-skinned waif with humongous tits but with a brain the size of a pea.

ano, pabaduyan na lang.

Sunday, December 26, 2004

i feel like a voyeur when i look at you

I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...
-Damien Rice, The Blower's Daughter

. . . because you have really beautiful eyes.

i don't know why i like you. you seem nice, really. except maybe for certain comments you blurt out that annoy me. damnit i find myself fantasizing about you a great number of times. i mean, i don't think i can even get a good night's (or day) sleep without thinking about you first. it's sick. i know i will never have you. i know i will never be able to tell you. i know that even if i tell you, it will never matter. i know that even if i mattered, it would be useless because we'll soon part ways.

i suddenly remembered the tall thin bedimpled guitar guy from my law school. i liked him so much. much the same way i like you now. which means i'll forget you and how insane i get around you when i meet the next cute guy/girl. maybe i'm just in love with the idea that i'm in love with you. maybe not. i like what i know about you so far (except for some things) and i even respect you for the things you've already achieved. i just wish i could maximize the time i have with you, while i still can be with you.

I know everybody here wants you
I know everybody here thinks (s)he needs you
I'll be waiting right here just to show you
How our (my) love will blow it all away
- Jeff Buckley, Everybody Here Wants You

too many people want you. they all want a piece of you. all i want is just, hell, i don't even know what i want from you. probably an opportunity. to talk. to walk. to listen to music or watch a movie. to do something relevant other than the things we do together now. that's it. that's what i want to do if i get the chance to actually be with you. just you. to touch you. hug you. kiss you.
love you.

oh and every time I'm close to you
there's too much I can't say
and you just walk away
and I forgot to tell you I love you
and the night's too long and cold here without you
I grieve in my condition
for I cannot find the words to say I need you so
-Sarah McLachlan, I Love You

i don't point fingers when my fingers are dirty

this has been a really interesting week. so interesting i slept most of the time and not blogged about it. i keep putting off writing about it because i lack sleep or am drunk by the time i get home.

cris, an officemate (and former friend, because i hardly talk to her nowadays) filed a complaint against april, a.k.a. OD, for allegedly spreading rumors that she (cris) stole april's cellphone. of course, cris didn't. and of course, april wasn't spreading the rumors. but the circumstances surrounding this situation aren't too complicated. they're not complicated! in fact, it's sooo not complicated that thinking about it gives me a headache!!!

april was asked to make a complaint and/or to explain her side of the story and was asked by the guy handling the complaint if she had any witnesses or people who had complaints about cris as well. we were just waiting for them at the 22nd floor reception area. it was as if april was pregnant and we were waiting to know if she had given birth already. if you could only see what we all looked like. anyway, all of us waiting did go and said something about their personal experience with cris. somehow, i didn't want to feel emphatic at that moment because i'd hate to be cris right now. i mean, you know how old people say that when people talk about you, something bad happens to you? like you bite your tongue or skip a step? because of the many not-so-nice things being said about her, she could've been maimed by now.

i hate judging people. i hate talking about people behind their backs. of course, i am guilty of doing these things sometimes but i feel like i've been fair to cris. like before i started judging her and saying things behind her back, i did try talking to her until i got tired. people thought i was tolerating her behavior, people used to think that i was her puppet, her doormat, her yaya, and to think i was the older, supposedly more mature between the two of us. it hurt to be with her sometimes because she would do things that tended to embarrass me in front of many people. and it's not because i don't understand or accept her (i am a flirt too, you know), i do. it's just that it got to the point where it felt like i was supporting her with her so-called ADHD, but i wasn't getting any support from her, because i didn't have the right to feel bad or get mad at her when she was "naughty" or "just playing" and i was her "mama bels". it's just that, the things that she does can be so unacceptable or incomprehensible sometimes, especially in a working environment, that it makes me forget how kind or wonderful she is because i'm too busy being embarrassed, irritated or pissed. moreover, right now, i feel so ripped off. like i was made to believe certain things in order to stretch my patience more than usual, just so i wouldn't leave. i protected her and cared for her until it was time to think about myself. being a surrogate mother can be tiring, you know.


1. i do have a right to be angry.

2. i am not your mother.

3. i came here to work for this company, your parents don't pay me for looking after you

4. i can barely take care of myself, how can i take care of you?

5. if you do hear me and as you say, you're not stupid. you're right, you're not stupid. you're STUBBORN. it's nice to think that you will fight the world as long as you think you're right, even admirable. but what if the whole world is right and you're wrong?

so many people have so many not-so-good things to say about cris. they either get pissed because she tries so hard to catch people's attention to the point that she becomes annoying because she harasses everybody sexually or verbally, butts in conversations, thinks she knows everything or because she gets their stuff even before they can say, "NO". she made an ashtray out of carl's (oreo's fiancee) arm. her paranoia caused a rift between her and liza (she has a tendency to think that when people are talking in groups they are automatically talking about her) because she thought that when liza was answering a question and uttered the words "promiscuous", liza was attacking her personality. ira still can't forget how she pinched his nipples and his butt in public with people in attendance during the first day of training class. nobody in wave nine wants to talk to her anymore, except for a few people who are forced to stay with her because they pity her and think that they're the only ones who can understand her, or because, in one person's words, "kasi iniwan mo na siya, bels, kaya di ko naman siya pwedeng pabayaan". see how she can make a person feel bad for leaving but feel more bad for staying?

i don't initiate fights. i try to avoid fighting in general. i especially don't want to fight when i know i'll lose or if i'll win but not in a fair way. again, we go back to the principle of estoppel. or the principle of mutual guilt. or not casting the first stone when you yourself are sinful. or the boy who cried wolf.

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

torpe rin kasi ako

i've always seen myself as, well, a bit of a risktaker. ever since watching dead poets society, and coming out of my shell, not out, but out of my shell, i've been a bit more daring. people don't dare me to do something because they know i'll do it. unless it crosses the line, i'll do it. not the fear factor sort of way, but i like to do things. i'll try anything once. except sex =) and drugs because i don't want to ever try unless i want to be addicted to them. the longest i've gone without a cig is six months.

but then, i'm also shy to do certain things. like . . . well, just read these poems i wrote about five to seven years ago so you'll know what i mean.


torpe 

hanggang dito na lang ako

sabi ko mawawala rin 'to

hindi pala

hindi kasi pwede

hindi kasi dapat

hindi rin

kung nasabi lang ang dapat sabihin

nagawa ang dapat gawin

pero hindi talaga kaya

hanggang dito lang talaga ako

di sana masaya ako

di sana magkasama tayo

di sana, tayo

kaso, hindi talaga uubra

kasi hanggang dito lang ako

torpe (part 2?)

masaya. malungkot.

malungkot.

nahulog na naman yata ako.

hindi rin.

hindi kayang aminin.

hindi kayang tanggapin.

kasi hindi na pwede.

hindi dapat.

kaya kahit masakit, hindi aaminin.

hindi tatanggapin.

hindi haharapin ang katotohanan

na nahulog na naman ako.



so . . . what do you think?

wish i could have one like that one day

my friend oreo got engaged last saturday night so she missed the whole wave nine christmas party. she texted me about it sunday morning while i was at liza's place waiting for adjie to wake up. darn, and i don't even like adjie. and even more darn, now that i think about it, just about every person who proposed marriage to me is a girl.

erwin and yvonne spent almost a month in london for their honeymoon. robert and his wife are based in london now.

i sometimes feel sorry for myself. sometimes, most of the time.

i don't really like having self-pity sessions for the reason that that's basically what they are: self-pity sessions. they don't empower one's self; they celebrate one's depression and frustrations in life and turn it into one big occasion. it's just like christmas where you let people who are supposed to related to you by blood but for some weird reason not related to you by brain insult you and demean you for being unattached or unsuccessful or even financially unbeautiful.

am i making any sense? i know i'm not.

i don't really want to engaged. i just want to have someone. i am getting old, aren't i? i don't have to have my honeymoon in london. i just have to be able to visit london. i don't have to be extremely waify and pretty to feel good about myself, i just need to feel good. i haven't felt that way in a long time. i need to feel.

because there are words to describe nothingness. i just can't figure one out right now.

Monday, December 20, 2004

that's the closest i can ever get to you

i got out of bed just so i could write about the dream i just had. and E texted me. she says she misses me and was hoping i would still do this lap dance for her. darn, and i don't even know how to dance. DO YOU HAVE A POLE IN YOUR ROOM?

i love my dreams. they're in technicolor. whether i'm dreaming at night or at the daytime, i have the weirdest dreams. they have this video-like quality. i get those mini-movies. you know, the ones that have those really deep meanings that you have to see them again and again for clarity. and i get deja vu. it's like i dream about something and then that thing/moment happens and i feel like that thing/moment/circumstance has happened before. that's how they define deja vu, right?

and then the computer conks out on you as well as everything else because of the power failure. i think in one word, they call it, "bummer", or, "damnit", or "whatthefuck?!" so you put off writing about it til the week later.

my crush and i were close in that dream. he actually likes me in that dream. of course, in real life, he does like me but not in the way i wish he would. he does not like this girl who used to hang around me and i thought that he didn't like me as well. i remember him telling me, "there are times when i wanted to go over to you but when i saw that she was there, i didn't bother to go to you anymore." he and i get to talk in real life but not as deep or intellectual as i wish we would talk. i don't really know him that well and the little that i do know about him is not enough for me to like. i do respect some of the things he's accomplished for himself so far. i think i'm just in love with the idea that i have someone to look forward to seeing everyday (or night) and i get excited about that that idea all the time. it kinda makes me feel alive. it makes me feel period.

i never really got to hold him during the christmas party like i wish i would. he pushed me into the pool, backwards. like i'm lying on the floor because they were trying to push this other guy into the pool and i was pulling him until his back was on top of me then they pushed him and my crush held my legs and tossed me into the water, scratching my arms and back and slightly hitting my head on the pavement before finally landing on the pool floor. he apologized. right after i gave him yosi.

that's the closest i'll ever get to him. i think.

Sunday, December 12, 2004

the title of the song is five years but i waited for seven

i first met the members of Sugar Hiccup when we produced a show for them and P.O.T. at the now-defunct Limits Disco. i never really had the chance to talk to them because we were all too busy fixing other stuff. i had the biggest crush on Melody del Mundo, not to mention, we were all amazed at how a buff guy like Czandro can get those really high notes. it was so jaw-dropping.

when i passed by NU107 Friday night to see if Erwin was there already (and possibly pick up my Brit guy - i asked if he could bring one home for me), i had the opportunity to meet and i did get to talk to the remaining members (Melody has her new band in the US of A) of Sugar Hiccup. they are currently looking for a new vocalist/guitarist, in line with the SH tradition. Czandro even asked me if i wanted to try out for the audition. uh, no. i have to stop smoking if i want to and come on, Melody is kind of a tough act to follow. besides, i'm a really lousy guitar player.

it was nice to hang out and talk to them. i also saw Gino again and he asked me if i wanted to go out with them after the show which would've been a great idea had i the money or the time to actually do so. he also told me i looked great in black. i also met this girl Frankie who works in MTV and Von, who used to star in one of Erwin's past columns. it was delightful to be rubbing elbows with the people you admired when you were a bit younger and hip-hop didn't rule the airwaves (my apologies to the people who love hip-hop and rnb. i'm just sorta sick of it right now because it's what they normally play during training.) and most songhits had rock songs on them. it was just so fun. i didn't feel so old in the NU107 booth as when i had to leave and go to work.

but s/he will never back . . .

Saturday, December 11, 2004

writing as a form of release

i wasn't looking forward to going home from work friday morning. i really didn't know where i'd go, i just didn't want to see my father again. i mean, if your father told you to just, "text me when you're dead so i can bury you", over a few lingering minutes on the phone, wouldn't you feel bad?

i managed to cheer myself up a bit once i got to work. i got to smoke, cry, vent, see my crushes. crushes. you know, those quaint individuals that supposedly brighten your day because they raise your libido or any other nerve of your body. i saw that guy from production who looks like Jerry Yan (although i'm not that much crazy over Meteor Garden) and i even got to talk to him. had i seen Piolo , the day would've been more cheerful. the day, not me.

then i remembered that it was in fact a Friday and i always look forward to reading my friend Erwin's column (The Outsider on The Philippine Star) on the hope that it might cheer me up or at least give me something to think about other than my pathetic miserable life.

apparently, Erwin has finally discovered weblogs, a concept i've been trying to tell him about ever since i met him. i even wrote one about him. it took this fantastic thing called "vacation" for him to know about it. jeez, his friend Quark got to read my blog before he could. while Erwin doesn't exactly do blogs, he writes articles for a newspaper which is probably what we bloggers would've liked to do, given a chance.

i've always been a writer. not writer, writer, although i do write poems and short stories. the ones i write are my outlet, whenever i have something against the world (which thankfully, i don't lose out on, i always find something wrong with the world, with people, etc.) or when by some stroke of fate, the world suddenly decided to be kind to me. in short, i had so many diaries. i used cattleya notebooks because the pretty ones weren't long or thick enough to hold my bottled up anger. if you stack them up all now, they'd reach up to my knee. i didn't really learn to speak up for myself until i reached third year college. i've always been gregarious, yes, but i was never confrontational. i keep my thoughts to myself most of the time, until i discovered blogging. now, even when i don't speak, the whole world knows i'm pissed with this or that person or i'm overwhelmed by this particular movie, music or book, or maybe even with a certain person.

i've always turned to writing whenever i felt sad or angry. rarely when i'm happy. because when you're happy, you don't seem to be doing anything else but be in that state of happiness. but when you're sad or mad, in order to keep you from stranggling the person next to you or taking away your own life, you turn to writing, painting, singing, anything. shopping never really worked for me. i almost always don't have money.

i'm not exactly the best writer that ever lived. my friends think i have a good command of the english language (may be attributed to The Cosby Show, Three's Company, as well as other american and english sitcoms; Superbook and The Flying House - two Christ-oriented cartoons which i don't get to see anymore) but as Chris commented, i could be uni-dimensional sometimes or as he put it, "unabashedly self-absorbed". i just write what i feel. it saves me and other people the trouble of me having to throw stuff and picking them up again; of slashing my wrists and smoking till my lungs bleed (wait a minute, i still smoke hehehe) or taking any form of illegal medication that may impair my speech or comprehension.

for as long as there are asshole dads, asshole ex-boyfriends, ex-girlfriends, bosses, classmates, officemates, taxi drivers, etc. and really really really bad movies and music, and i have no choice but to live with them because i can't possibly escape, i will write. i will whine, i will vent, i will bawl, i will write.

Monday, December 06, 2004

familiarity breeds contempt

when M and I were still together, we were together 18/6, meaning, if there were twenty-four hours to a day, we were together for the whole 16-18 hours in school and we were together six days a week. it was cute the first two years until she got sick a lot, needed lots of money and wasn't as sweet as when she stole me from A. of course, i became more irritable, more self-centered, more jealous of everyone else she was being nice to so i cheated on her instead. i cannot deny the fact that it was cute and sweet and romantic to be with the one you love almost every frigging day of the week but then when both of you start showing your true colors, you start growing sick and tired of each other. i have to hand it to her, i was a real pain in the ass. i was bitchy, needy, clingy. in all fairness to me, she was insensitive, she was sickly, she was competitive even towards me. so even if we did promise each other forever, one of us was bound to snap one way or the other.

during the review, i wanted to wring my roommate's neck. she was despicable. we were both only children and supposed to be, that would've helped us get along with each other, right? but then, she always kept on telling me not to do this or do that when she wasn't exactly the cutest, cleanest, nicest girl in the planet. it certainly did not please me. not to mention, she had this i'm-older-by-two-years-so-i'm-the-boss attitude as far as house cleaning was concerned. i was so happy that the bar season was over. i got tired of her. i'm pretty sure she got tired of me as well. bet she got tired of telling me to finish all her out-of-this-world cooking, of telling me to go back to hetero, of making me fight with our other roommate by making up stories.

right now, i'm getting pretty tired of one of my officemates. i hate the fact that she doesn't listen to me and even if she does, she's not getting my point. i'm not saying she's stupid, i'm saying she's stubborn. she's taking the whole "mommy bels" thing really really seriously. i hate it when people tell me to go home when i don't want to go home yet. that's my dad's job. i hate it when people tell me that i look cheap when they hug people whose names they don't even know yet. i hate it when they make me feel miserable when i get mad at them like i don't have a right to be upset. even my kids in UE, SBC and UST don't treat me that way. they listen to me and they don't depend on me so much. i am not their mother. i'm just their friend who happens to have motherly instincts, is also prone to committing mistakes and does get fed up when they go past the line. i hate it that they accuse me of not accepting them or understanding. i hate it when people i've only met for like a month or so give me guilt trips for standing up for them and for trying to do the right thing. i hate it when people test my patience. i hate it when people take me for granted and use my spoiling them as a means of making my head ache. i mean, when i was younger, a lot of people hated my guts. i was the epitome of hardheadedness. but i learned to compromise and i never used my unhappy childhood as an excuse for giving other people a hard time. and yes, i do know how flirtatious i was back then (still am now) but i draw the line between simple flirting and selling myself short. and i do try to listen to people who have nothing but good intentions for me. now i know how my friends used to feel about me when i do something nasty. now i understand. i don't try to blame them for telling me what they think. i still keep my principles, i still am the bad ass chick who doesn't care about what other people think. but i keep an open mind just in case they're right.

oh my God, i've officially matured.

the bad thing about being with someone everyday all the time is that whether you like it or not, you will get to know this person and you will either love him/her or hate him/her. you are either endeared more to that person or infuriated to death. you practice your communication skills. you practice patience. you practice tolerance. you practice compassion. by the end of the day, you realize that no matter how you try to be the nice person, you still end up being the one at fault.

Piolo hugs LJ a.k.a. thanks to the weather i got to hug a guy


damnit, i don't even like Piolo Pascual.

i cannot remember what day it was. all i know was that Ira and Gayle were with me and we were smoking at allegro. it was early morning, around 6am, i think. the weather was bad. it was the peak of the storm winnie or yoyong. i don't really remember. it was probably friday morning.

Piolo, whose name i thought was Drew, but turns out to be Eric, was smoking with his officemate Shawn and Matts, Ira's fellow cactus (whatever that means) and childhood friend. because i couldn't remember his name and i really thought his name was Drew, i called him out, "Piolo!" because he looked like Piolo. he was a bit embarrassed. Shawn could only laugh. then i called him Drew which wasn't his name either so Shawn laughed again but called him Eric. so i call Eric by his name, finally. but i also called him, "bading!" to which he retorted, "pag tinawag mo pa'kong bading, hahalikan kita!" of course, the man is perfectly straight and any contest to a straight guy's manhood surely calls for some lip service. i call him the term again twice and the man pulls me to his side, hugs me and kisses me on the forehead (ano 'yun, halik lola?!) and mind you, the Piolo-lookalike sure does smell good. and he didn't let go of me just yet too. he proceeded to hug me and smell me and make me puff from his cigarette. he would joke about how it was a good thing that it was cold and he had me to hug ( awww . . .) and how he wished it was always cold (typical of males getting a free hug from a pretty girl ehem) so he could hug me. the thing was, everytime i'd pull away, Gayle would push me back towards him and he's catch me everytime. i give him that. he smelled so good and he had a great bod. Ira quickly stated that i should give Eric's penis a nickname too (oreo called his penis Princess Sophia, from How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days) and i immediately thought of the name, Daphne. i have no idea why, i just brushed my hand over it, ni hindi nga sumayad kamay ko sa t%#i niya kung tutuusin and called it, "Daphne". Eric wanted to call my boobs Bruno. i told him the twins had names already and he said he wanted to meet the twins someday and he hoped that i'd show them to him.

tough luck, sweetie.

anyway, as the Barbra Streisand song goes, "some good things never last", they had to go back to work. i had to go back up to get my stuff. he did get my number, though. haven't heard from him yet. i know he has a girlfriend and i don't mind. it's not like i'm in love with the guy. he was just very sweet and i loved the way he "took advantage" of me (because i'm always the one to first make a move on people, him doing that to me was nice). it was so subtle. funny, cute and subtle. we even kissed each other goodbye. it was really cute. after he left, i suddenly felt conscious of the way i smelled. i didn't wash my hair that day.

if you're not into yoga now, you will be



i don't get to read the papers anymore. i either miss it because dad left early and brought all the papers with him or because i'm too tired to read the papers to begin with. i came across this article on Corey Wills on the Philippine Star and i got really into it that i read the whole thing even if my eyes were sore from staring into the computer all day (or all night, as the case may be) and taking calls.

of course, the reason i was glued to the paper was very obvious. it was Corey Wills. i mean, i need to lose weight. i need to be able to quit my smoking and other bad habits. i need to learn to eat more veggies and other bland food. but i have to tell you, if i had a yoga instructor that hot and cute, i would definitely stay motivated.

haaay. . .

Sunday, December 05, 2004

don't call me daughter

i'll live through you
you'll be who i never was
if you're the best, then maybe so am i
compared to him, compared to her
i'm doing this for your own damn good
you'll make up for what i blew
what's the problem?
why are you crying?

be a good girl
push a little farther now
that wasn't fast enough
to make me happy
i'll love you just the way you are
if you're perfect
- Perfect, Alanis Morissette

something tells me my dad didn't want his only child to be a girl.

that, or i'm really adopted.

i could never be what you want me to be
all you're gonna be is disappointed
i could never see what you wanted for me
all you're gonna be is disappointed
- Disappointed, Ivy

i am weird. loud. flirtatious. bisexual. abnormal. if my father only knew how true i am in front of everybody, he will never be able to recognize me. i'm serious.

ever since i can remember i've always wanted to run away. i've always felt like this wasn't the spot where God intended me to land on. i am not my father's daughter. i am not the kind of daughter he wants me to be.

first of all, i don't have anything against gay people. hell, my best friends are gay. i used to date gay women. i don't believe in marriage and i might content myself with just living in with the guy/girl i want to spend the rest of my life with and unless i have sufficient evidence that that person is right for me, i might not consider marriage. i don't have anything against people who are physically challenged. i actually admire these people for having the courage to overcome their personal and physical obstacles, which is more than what i can say for myself. money is not as important to me as say, friendship, trust and love. i don't treat women as sex objects or see them as the weaker sex. in short, i hate it when he says he doesn't want to die without me getting married yet because he doesn't trust that i can handle myself or the money he'll leave me. i don't treat men as sex objects (unless they want to be treated as such). i don't make friends with people because they have money, beauty, etc. i just happen to have really beautiful friends who can afford to drink coffee from Starbucks. i don't expect too much from people to the point of not allowing them to commit mistakes. people are human. i am human.

i don't live well in my father's eyes. i will never amount to anything as far as he is concerned and even if i do get to finish everything he wants to live out in me i'd still not be able to live up to his skyhigh expectations. it's so frustrating. i cannot dwell in the past. i cannot live my life forever getting angry. i'm violent enough as it is, i don't need another person's anger to add up to my already implosive character.

i am twenty-seven goddamn years old and he still treats me like i'm four or six or anyone who hasn't finished two degrees in the last ten years. twenty-seven years old and still living with my dad, asking permission from him to go to places because if i don't tell him where i am he will immediately assume that i'm getting myself knocked up and pregnant. twenty-seven years old and i still get hit in the head whenever i try to speak my mind or prove my point.

someday i'll get out of this place. someday i won't be afraid to fight for my belief, my friends, my love. someday, i won't be so angry.




Thursday, December 02, 2004

the plot thickens




so much for World AIDS Day. wore a red ribbon. you know the drill. i think most everyone has seen what the symbol for World AIDS Day looks like. everytime i try to explain to people the first thing they ask me is, "why, you have AIDS?". someone get them a brain, please?

John went home early 'coz he wasn't feeling well. had an extended lunch break. went to NU107.

met Jazz and Echo of Boldstar (got to hug Echo too mwahahahahaha). saw Zach in NU107 but couldn't buy an album 'coz he didn't have any with him. bummer.

before i get to anything, let's all pray for all the landslide casualties. nature's wrath cannot be escaped. plant trees. save paper. have compassion.

so anyway . . .

what a difference a day or two makes.

i'm having trouble unifying my group, my wave nine kids. it's funny 'coz they're not even my kids, my responsibility but i feel so hurt when we don't all get along. (i feel extra bad 'coz somebody got to my crush first before i could hehehehe) they don't get along. they don't understand each other. i can't do anything, say anything that could help maybe bring it all back to what it was. it was starting to be okay. we were starting to get to know each other, even the people that we didn't exactly like at the onset. now, it's just us killing each other.

MISCOMMUNICATION IS A BAD THING. PARANOIA CAN RUIN FRIENDSHIPS.

i hate the fact that i'm crippled. that i can't do anything, say anything to try to get people to talk to each other again. you know, have fun again. we're not kids anymore but we're all acting like it. i don't like it. i don't like it one bit.