shattered façade

i’m quitting this blog, again. and this time, it’s for good. reasons? nothing very significant, really. i just decided to create blogs in livejournal and wordpress for certain reasons (like fangirling LOL), and will be blogging on those sites for convenience. i’ve already imported this blog in wordpress so i won’t lose my many years’ worth of melodramatic entries LOL. i actually hesitated about importing those entries. i feel like they’re just baggage that will weigh me down, when i’ve changed so much. but they’re a part of who i am, and will always be, so i’m taking them along. well. so, it’s byebye friendster again. with the death of this blog, i won’t be bothering with friendster anymore. follow me on multiply, facebook, deviantart, livejournal, and wordpress if you will.

adieu, friendster. it’s been nice using you.

I’m getting fed up with people who keep on telling me that grades aren’t important. I KNOW grades aren’t everything. But in the field I’m planning to enter, they’re bloody important. Don’t they know that if you’re a summa/magna, you start at instructor 3, not 1? Do they think they’ll get, say, fullbright grants if they don’t have a laude? I’m sorry, but I look ahead. Besides, they don’t know the extra benefits of having high grades. For example, one of my profs let me pass off a final exam (which, I afterwards heard, was noseblood) when I got sick because she thought I was going to perfect it anyway. I’m not going to argue with them anymore. I won’t defend my being GC. Because when graduation comes I won’t be the one who feels sorry because I haven’t got a laude.

so i’m currently digging sagakure’s LJ. I’ve already dug her deviantArt. Grabe lang, she has to be the number 1 VK fangirl evar! she churns out fanfics and fanart and VK games and programs and VK blog updates, and edits scanlations as if it’s her main occupation, LOL. careermuch? well, i salute her obsession dedication.XD

the manga’s finished, but i’m still some chapters behind, and i intend to remedy that now. i shall finish reading the manga today! (and finish watching the anime next week. and make VK fanart next vacay.) shouldn’t take more than an hour. i hope.

i haven’t written a decent, sensible blog post in weeks, but what the hell, there’s no time for that when i’m suffocating in readings, papers, and various mindless hobbies LOL. expect to see decent posts when vacation comes.XD meanwhile, bask in the gorgeousness of cross academy cutie-cuties!

top-bottom, left-right: kiryu zero, kuran kaname, ichijou takuma, aido hanabusa, kain akatsuki, and shiki senri. my fave pairings are ZeroKaname and KanameHanabusa (KH for unrequited love LOL). i would’ve paired kaname with takuma, but takuma is mine.XD haaay. yuuki cross is one lucky girl.XD

the pics are from sagakure’s LJ (except the first photo, which is from onemanga, that promotes this VK nintendo DS game apparently made for fangirls, in which you get to play yuuki and try to get the love of any of the VK heartthrobs. ooh, malandi!XD). i cropped them to fit nicely here. Vampire Knight is by Matsuri Hino.

		I will marry Shun.
		After a wild honeymoon, We will settle down in Tokyo in our fabulous House.
		We will have 2 kid(s) together.
		Our family will zoom around in a red toyota yaris.
		I will spend my days as a professor, and live happily ever after.

aw. i would've preferred to live in oxford or toronto, have zero kids, and a black honda civic si coupe.

but that thing with shun - that's totally fine. LOL

Because there is nothing I want to say about New Year, resolutions, celebrations, etc., that I haven’t said/posted before, here are some thank-you’s for the men and women of 2008 (in my life, at least) instead. Good luck with the mush!XD

To all the insane people who have persisted in subjecting themselves to my often senseless ramblings these past four years, you guys are unbelievable! Thanks! I don’t know for how long still this occasional tirade of texts will last, but I guess so long as unli remains and I remain an incessant tale-teller and whiner who doesn’t talk much, the GMs will keep coming.

To my high school pals, especially Aviva, Buding, Jerome, Russia, Pompom, Ann-Jeng, and Carmeli, I can only say thank you for all the years of companionship, fun, and even bickering. Thank you for sticking with me, for accepting me, for helping me grow. There will always be a special feeling for people who’ve seen you progress through the years, who’ve seen you at your worst, who know you in this way that others can’t, and still accept you.

To my best girl friends, Aviva, Steph, and Rome, there are certain things I can talk about only with you, and I’m really thankful that you’re there to talk with. Thanks for really listening, for being patient, for expressing interest, for giving time. And thanks especially, Aviva, for your GMs. My days always become more interesting and enjoyable when you’re unli.
To my LF friends, especially Ate Ja, Kuya Drew, Remz, Len, Leslie, Debid, Kuya Joms, Ate Erika, and Ate Beks, I’m glad I became closer to you this year. I never thought I’d love LF the way I love my high school classmates, but as I’ve learned in psych, familiarity promotes love. I know I can be such a bitch and a grouch at times, and I thank you for tolerating or understanding it, ha ha ha.

To Dana, I’m glad I met you in CW class and that we became friends. You’re one of the rare people that I somehow like immediately, and knowing you better this year only made me like you more. I enjoy your conversation and your writings; you make me think and you inspire me. I really hope you fulfill your potentials, find answers to your questions, and make a whole lot of difference. I believe in you!

To profs–
Ma’am MJ: *usual fangirling mush and gush* (Yes, I shall spare you what you already hear too much of anyway! LOL)
Ma’am JI: I am no longer the bottom feeder! I no longer feel your joking ire! My stupidity must have lessened this year! Thank you! LOL. And thank you for not giving me a hard time when I’m late for class… not yet anyway.
Sir CA: Thank you for accepting me into your class! *sniff* And for always being so considerate and kindly! I hope your health will vastly improve and that you live much longer, happily!

To you, who are still reading this: Thanks and congratulations! You survived it! LOL

Light through the curtains smoldering my eyelids. I wake up. My head is thumping as if whatever it contained was mad to break out, to burst the walls of its confinement. But that’s okay, nothing strange—it’s been like that for days and days, unrelenting—the strain of nights and days of typing, of eyes and mind struggling to catch words on fluttering wings.
But my skin—no, the skin I am wearing—It’s not mine. The roses like pinpricks speckling the white of my wrists are no more at home on me than are the goosebumps of that chicken, cold and bald (oh what a shame) thawing in the sink, to be cooked for lunch.
They bring me to a doctor. He is brisk and smiling, warmly impersonal. Let’s see… ugly rashes, slight fever, swollen lymph glands—a list of qualifications. Not to worry. (Not to worry! Unsubmitted papers, untaken exams—) It’s not dengue, just rubella. A week’s rest in isolation, and off you go.
Another day. Rubella planted a lump at the base of my skull, behind the right ear. I touch its round surface, this little warm marble, chipped flat on one side, glued onto bone, and swathed in scalp. I can almost feel it throbbing evilly like a tiny monster waiting to be born. I try to sleep again, sleep the whole day through. I have dreamed of drowning, suffocating, falling, of being run over, shot, knifed, and axed, but never—not once—of fiendish headaches.
And another. My mouth feels tasteless, parched, leathery, like a backyard well that has suddenly dried up. The pocket beneath my nether lip does not feel like skin at all, but sandpaper, worn and worthless. Unseen wounds gash the corners of my mouth, invisibly stitched so I can’t smile nor speak. Frowning has never come easier.
And another. I examine the strange face staring back from the glass—skin blotchy and peeling, stinging and burning, eyes squinting, red and puffy. I pick on that face Rubella has painted over mine, scratching off tiny flakes of skin like translucent pencil shavings—madly scratching, hoping the familiar is just underneath.
Yet another. My hands are gone (had they said bye-bye to my arms, or just scuttled off?), but somebody replaced them with cunning copies that don’t feel quite real. I flex their fingers in grim fascination. I wonder how they were attached, and look for a button I could unfasten, a latch I could undo, to take them off, just like a pair of awkward, fleshy gloves they feel to be.
Yet another. I have taken to avoiding mirrors. The mirrors have been lying. Or maybe I’m afraid they aren’t. Each day Rubella takes more and more of what I am and instead fills me with itself. But I remember what I was, like I would a dim childhood memory evoked by my old photographs, photographs that do not look like me.
When will days like these end? Only the week is closing, a week I have spent confined in my room, in my bed, in dreariness, with my thoughts, and the mirror now obscured by furniture. I don’t try to go out anymore. I used to, but they would look at me and cringe back, and scream, shrill, derisive cries, and lock themselves in their own rooms. They see no I, as if there never was any I, only Rubella.

—

last year, near the end of the hell finals week, i contracted german measles or rubella and was confined to my room for more than a week. my family didn’t want me to go out, because i was contagious. the illness felt horrible (and i looked horrible). this piece tries to talk about the symptoms and alienation i felt at that time, alienation not only from others but also from myself.

ah well. this is what happens when you coop me up in a room for too long and treat me like a prisoner the plague a brat-munching, goo-spewting, har-har-har-ing monster.

and oh yeah, this was inspired by my getting a cold again. i do seem to get sick quite a lot these days. tsk tsk.

“The sense of unhappiness is so much easier to convey than that of happiness. In misery we seem aware of our own existence, even though it may be in the form of a monstrous egotism: this pain of mine is individual, this nerve that winces belongs to me and to no other. But happiness annihilates us: we lose our identity.”
- Graham Green, The End of the Affair

when i first read this, i readily agreed. hasn’t sadness often driven me to “monstrous egotism,” to focusing on my self, my feelings, my circumstances, my relations with other people, and being oblivious to things outside of the distinct boundaries of me, me, me? it has often driven me to the strange solace of loneliness, and the conviction that solitude is not only something i can handle very well, but also something i actually prefer, something i must seek. and i agree that unhappiness is easier to communicate. i even think it is in melancholy tones that i find my voice, especially in writing.
whereas happiness–mindless, spirited, caught-in-the-present happiness–loosens me from the  hold of self-consciousness, the monitoring and fashioning of it, and allows me to forget the  performance that i, like an actress who has her lines down pat and has recited them so many times the words tumble out of her mouth without having to detour through her brain, almost automatically put on; and i find myself saying and doing things that i–and other people–would usually strike off the “about tine” list if there was one.

so i guess happiness is more liberating–for doesn’t it feel so much more lighter to be free of the self, with the definitions, limitations, and vexations that come with it, the past that it carries, and the future that it worries about? in happiness we often transcend the boundaries of the self. and transcending the self–sacrificing for the good of others, for example, or celebrating with someone we care for–makes us happy too, even if we did not benefit directly. this thought modifies my old idea that we are basically selfish creatures, and that even “self-sacrifice” is selfish in a way, for we do it because it lets us taste some flavor of satisfaction–thus, the self is not really denied, but rather, gratified. perhaps that satisfaction arises not from self-denial, but self-transcendence. we do not become happy by destroying the self–what reason would there be for happiness then, if our needs, our wants, our dreams are annihilated? but when the concept of self expands to include others and identifies with something bigger than the individual, then the pleasure we experience also becomes greater. when we cause somebody else happiness, and if that somebody is included in our concept of self, then we do not only make him/her happy, we make ourselves happy too, and the happiness, if it could be quantified, doubles. and this, i suppose is not selfishness–not in the narrow sense of the self, anyway.

no wonder people like to love, when it is a means of expanding one’s self. of course, such self-expansion also works the other way: if the other that we consider part of our self suffers, we suffer too. oh well.

even though my parents promised to buy me a laptop for my eighteenth birthday (which they didn’t do), i still felt guilty that they are finally about to buy me one. i guess it’s because i know that i don’t really need it–not yet anyway–and i usually feel guilty about indulging in luxuries, even if i saved or worked for them. so even though i want the laptop, i still can’t be entirely glad that i’m going to get it. i felt so guilty, so undeserving, so extravagant.

and then my parents bought a new 21-inch flatscreen TV this afternoon just because.

*

people have been telling me that i sound/look/am mataray. which, people know, i certainly can be. but sometimes, when i don’t mean to come across as mataray, they still get the impression that i am. i go straight to the point and i’m mataray. i critique unapologetically, and i’m mataray. i don’t smile all the time and i’m mataray. i don’t feel like chitchatting and i’m mataray. can i just say, leche ha! must i always check how my face looks, must i always ask, are there any creases? am i smiling? are my eyebrows not meeting? is there light in my eyes? does my voice sound sweet, my laughter, natural? is my posture relaxed? do i look happy? my god! am i a freaking celebrity for goodness’ sake? i’m no little miss congeniality, and i don’t intend to be. this is why i often prefer not to socialize with people at all or just show them my colder side: so i don’t have to keep up a cheery facade even when i’m not in the mood, so i can just be myself and not have to act and speak in a certain way to make people think that oh! tine is such a nice person. oh! tine is so agreeable. oh! tine is so fun to be with! well, NEWS FLASH! tine is not cheerful, is not extroverted, is not funny. she is a serious person. she is temperamental. she is often cross, and when she’s angry, she’s angry with everybody. she is not nice or friendly. in fact, she is mean to the people she dislikes. she dislikes a lot of people. she is selfish. she is insensitive. she likes solitude. she is aloof. she doesn’t always feel like talking, and when she does, she prefers to go straight to the point. she is a perfectionist and is impatient with ineptitude. she is business-like when it comes to work, and expects others to be that as well. she is bossy. she is opinionated. she couldn’t care less about what you feel or think about her if she doesn’t give a shit about you. but she is not all of these all of the time. thus she cannot be boxed in, cannot be pinned down, cannot be defined. and she is sick of people doing that to her, and she is sick of being chastised for being herself. either accept her as she is or leave her alone. because, you know,  she likes herself as she is and a lot of people do too, and that’s good enough for her.

today i watched twilight with aviva and ate jaja—two people who have recommended the book to me. but since i don’t have time to read it (what with so many books and so little time), and because i have heard disparaging reviews regarding its literary quality, i decided not to read it and just watch the movie instead. and inferla, i don’t regard it as a waste of money. it satisfied my curiosity (complemented by aviva’s narration of the basic story lol) and found it entertaining. i may not have been touched or impressed, but i was amused and entertained. and since the movie does not purport to be life-changing or whatever, i guess, in entertaining, it achieved what it set out to do. this is true of the book as well. it may not be well-written or intellectual, it may be amateurish, unpolished, cheesy, etc. but it’s entertaining. and hello, it’s not like it’s proclaiming itself to be a masterpiece of western civilization. this is why i don’t understand people who set out to read twilight just to bash it. if you already know or think that it is a “badly-written piece of shit” (fc washroom vandal, 2008), then why waste your time and energy in reading it, then whining about it, condemning it to burn in the hell of clichéd  plots, and condescendingly sneering at the people who do find enjoyment in its pages? do you take the time to criticize a mills and boone novel and carp to no end about it and its readers?

perhaps what’s bothering you is that it caters to a target market and SELLS, unlike your own very intellectual and highbrow preferences. yes, it is indeed very sad that what we deem good literature often turn out to be commercial failures. but not everybody is as privileged as you are, materially and intellectually, to be able to appreciate the writings you deem worthwhile. at least more people are reading because of novels like twilight. at least they’re reading something—anything. so give them a break, will you? you must know how insulting it is for people to hear their fandoms being scoffed at. i am not writing this because i’m a twilight fan. i’m writing this because i’m getting fed up with all the snooty, disdainful, bitter people out there. i wouldn’t mind so much if you’re problematizing the politics of gender in twilight, or the representation of vampires, or the werewolves as a colonial people or something worth listening to. but no. you’re just carping carping carping. yeah, you’re high and mighty, thoroughly intellectual; we get it already, alright? so why don’t you just leave them in peace and go on reading Camus’ The Stranger—or better yet, get a life.

EDIT: i was talking about senseless, unreasonable, ridiculously fanatical bashing. and i hear a LOT of that. i’m talking about people who deliberately read it JUST to bash it. which, i think, doesn’t make any sense at all. if they want good literature they can critique using scholastic proficiency, they should not be reading twilight, then.

i’m not asking anyone to like it or to even try to appreciate it. i don’t exactly love it myself. but i’m asking people to stop wasting their time in reading something they hate, and to stop offending people who do take the time to read what they love. just as twilight upsets some people with its maltreatment, shall we say, of things they hold close to their hearts, so does furious, careless bashing upset those who do hold twilight close to their hearts. i suppose it boils down to respecting differences in opinions and feelings–especially those of people who matter to you. if people really have to bash twilight, they don’t have to do it in the faces of people whom they know like twilight. that, i think, is rude, thoughtless, and uncalled for (except maybe when the person they wish to bash deserves it for being a supercilious poser and bandwagon jumper or something lol).

i am not being dismissive about how people who were honestly disappointed feel, nor am i saying that people have no right to bash twilight–or anything they find unacceptable for that matter. but critique must be practiced with more responsibility and thoughtfulness. why, oh why, must they deliberately set out–with all their preconceived notions–to hate something? you critique with a constructive purpose. you do not critique for the mere purpose of critiquing.

and, as ate miya said, “sometimes people have just to [sic] chill. Unless they had such high hopes for it, but why expect a literary masterpiece from a cliche?” (comment on “on watching twilight“)

I shared this quote with Dana:
“Truly one has to excuse excellent men when they presume much of themselves, because anyone who has great things to accomplish must have the daring to do those things, and confidence in himself.” - The Book of the Courtier  by Baldesar Castiglione
(bastardized version: the “destined for greatness” package includes bragging rights. LOL)

And she shared this quote with me:
“The novelist Chaim Potok recalls being urged by his mother to forego writing: ‘Be a brain surgeon. You’ll keep a lot of people from dying; you’ll make a lot of money.’ He replied: ‘Mama, I don’t want to keep people from dying; I want to show them how to live.’” - text ng friend niya

sabi ni dana, mabuhay daw kaming mga (sawing) makata. nyahaha. although i think she is by no means “sawi” as an artist. she’s writing and improving. A LOT. me, i haven’t written fiction in a very long while. ah well. as ate gia said, “It will come; in the meantime, allow yourself to fall gracefully into the pattern of things, don’t wander off, do what you must.”

__

taken from inez . because this blog is teeming with emoooo. i need more kalandian and kabadingan. (self-cancellation after self-fashioning. maybe someday i’ll also try to cancel the self i present here. haha.)

PICK 7 GUYS IF YOU’RE A GIRL AND GIRLS IF YOU’RE A GUY.

from different areas in my life:
1. Shun
2. j__
3. sirP
4. kuya drew
5. darwin
6. kuya verb
7. hotness

Would you ever date number 2?
> sure!

Have you ever liked number 6?
> sure why nut! XD

Will you ever marry number 4?
> NO. LOL! dahil para na siya kay david! joke.

Has number 3 eaten in front of you?
> in my dreams. LOL

What would you do if number 1 confessed their love for you?
> uhh… faint? die of happiness? LOL. uh, say, “yes, i love you too! yes, i will!” and drag him to church? kidding. of course he has confessed his love for me and we’re already engaged… in my dreams. LOL!

What about if number 5 confessed their love for you?
> ngunit paano na si Gio?XD LF OTP ko pa naman sila.XD (since hindi LF ang lover ni david LOL)

What do you think is the funniest thing about number 6?
> uhh… he can crack really hilarious jokes when he’s in the mood for it.

Would you cry if 7 died?
> yes.

Who would you say is your best friend out of 1-7?
> 6.

Who would you say is the smartest/nerdiest?
> j__. nerdiest.XD

Would you tell a secret to number 3?
> no, lalo na kung tungkol sa kanya. XD

Would you ever trust number 1 with your life?
> seriously? nah.

If any of them sweet talked you, who would you believe the most?
> shun. nyehehe

Have you ever gone out with number 4?
> yep. suki kami ng mcdo, jollibee, at booksale LOL

Ever been on a date with 7?
> nope. kailan ba tayo magde-date, mare?

If there was one thing you’d like number 1 to do what is it?
> be my boyfriend? LOL

Name one memory with number 4?
> uhh recently, nung “hiniram” namin ang papers ng lover ni david.XD

Has number 3 ever embarrassed you?
> nope. except maybe when i instantly smile/blush upon seeing him.XD

If number 6 was in a burning building with your dad who would you save first?
> my dad. and anyway, he’s a bit smaller. hehe

When did you last see 1?
> kanina lang. XDD

Do you miss any of them?
> i miss those i don’t see often, i.e. sirp (waaaah), kuya verb, and hotness.

Who do you chill with the most?
>  shun. CHOZ. kuya drew. hehe.

If you had to choose between everyone to be your date to prom who would it be?
> i wouldn’t go to prom. but if i had to, uh, kuya verb, i guess. coz i’m afraid my dearest shun will get mobbed. LOL. and so we can rant about how stupid prom is. or something. LOL

Who’s the most athletic?
> sirp.

If you HAD to pick one to marry , which one will you choose?
> who do you think? XD