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There will always be black and white keys in my head and I’ll keep playing them for you.

/ iamsupercarla / 10 Comments

Just when I thought I can post on a daily basis, I fail myself.  Then again, that seems to be part of a routine, and with that, I have no counter-arguments.  

I received the bulk of my final exams this week and as it turned out, I wasn’t that far off in my computation.  I am just bracing myself for the worst and to be frank, the worst is yet to come.  If only I didn’t have so much in my mind.

I came across a quote by the late great Leo Buscaglia and it read:  Death is a challenge; it tells us not to waste time.  What a challenge indeed.  We spend every waking moment, getting from one minute to another, but has any of you stopped to think if that minute was well spent?

tick tock tick tock goes the clock

Damn, I need a smoke.

/ iamsupercarla / 4 Comments

Three months into the year and I can barely keep my only goal.

F: 2.5
S:  1.625 * 1.25
R:  1.25 * 1.25
Div 3.5
T:  1.74107

Am I in trouble or what.

The day didn’t end quite happily as I thought it would.  Not only did Tiger started becoming emo again (please don’t be upset anymore, your pimples might worsen, sige ka) and basically looked right  through me after a joke that didn’t even originate from my end (don’t be upset already, you’ll grow older faster though I know it would be to your advantage since you want to appear older already), but I also heard from a friend that they won’t release Module 400 grades till after the final exams for Module 500.  

Sa totoo lang, umiikot na ang pwet ko.  Hindi ko alam kung tama ba tong computation ko, o likas lang talaga akong morbid.  Minsan lang naman kasi ako may magustuhan ng ganito.  Si Dylan lang yata ang nagustuhan ko ng ganito eh.  Ayoko talaga matanggal, pero talagang kitang kita sa numbers eh.  I have nowhere to go but there.  That awkward little circle of barely-hanging-on and nearly-letting-go.  And I hate that kind of limbo.  Hindi ko naman subok-akalain na darating ako sa ganitong point na ganito kaaga.  And I do not like this point at all.

and here it comes, a more dramatic turn

Moving out and moving in. Yes, I have my own version of that.

/ iamsupercarla / 4 Comments

Happy note:
Dylan ended up spending his birthday evening with me.  I’m quite surprised how the night turned out.  After his shift, he texted and asked if he can take me out to dinner.  Who am I to refuse that invite?  I was able to give him his gifts, and confirmed my status of "Best Girlfriend Ever".  He went oh-no-you-didn’t-just-get-me-this for a good ten minutes.  It was nice to make him happy at that moment.  He was so tired from work and the jam-packed day; I’m just fortunate to have the best pick-upper. :)

Sunday note:
The day was scorching hot.  The day was so hot, it reminded me how much I hate the place I am renting each time noon comes.  By 1PM, my room converted to a big oven.  I had to get out and get me some air conditioning; even after showering, I can feel the sweat trickling down my back.  I spent a good hour in Coffee Bean, TriNoma, but ended up going to Antipolo for some quality time with the cousins.  Of course, the fact that they had the A/C on all day contributed greatly to a time well-spent.  Dinner was even more amazing, thanks to the neighborhood roast chicken.  I came home just around thirty minutes ago, with a full stomach, but still not enough time to have spent online.

I’ve been thinking about having someone host my own website.  Scratch that.  (Okay).  I’ve been thinking of putting up my own website so I can put all of my shit in it, but I can’t seem to imagine leaving LJ.  After all, this site has hosted a good 6 years of my thoughts (including the ones I had to delete when jealousy was still an issue in our relationship).  I’m also contemplating whether it would be a money-making machine for me, should I choose to open it up to the public and make my random ramblings known and encourage advertisers to post to my site (under the premise that I do have that much traffic which I don’t), or if it’ll be just another dent in my savings.  

ha! to wallow in self-pity

Hush hush.

/ iamsupercarla / 4 Comments

 Something kicked in and I know I shouldn’t ignore it.  I was right to bring my laptop to work because in the middle of discussing spot rates and swaps, I felt the urge to write.  It’s been a while since I last felt the urge, and I’m not about to let it pass me by.

I am a firm believer of lying.  Really.  Though some people might find that immoral, I believe it makes me a great friend, and a great secret keeper.  For quite some time, people have confided with me their deepest and darkest secrets which explains  why I have bangs.  Contrary to my extroverted personality, I am a very good secret keeper.  How?  When people ask me about someone else’s secrets, I lie.  Brutal, but true.

What am I supposed to say to them?  "I promised"?  "They made me take an unbreakable vow" (Harry Potter fans WAVE!)?  There are not enough people in this world that can easily understand there are just some things that cannot be shared.  There are just some things that are not for public knowledge.  Once I say that, they instantly call me  "corny".  Some even quip "Sige na, ako lang naman eh."  But the thing is, the secret is not for you.  The secret is just for me and the giver.  I am the secret keeper, and the moment I tell you about it, it is no longer kept.

So I make up stories, things that will feed their curiosity and end it.  I feed them the words they want to hear, or the words they expect to hear.  I know it’s mean, but what am I supposed to do?  I get cut both ways.  Each time I have to make up these stories, I have to file them in my head so the next time they ask, I’d know how to follow it up.  It becomes a compulsion even.  It becomes such an addiction that you make up another lie to support the previous one.

This is the cost.  This is what makes me a bad person.  I lie to friends to protect friends.  I lie with grace and poise.  It almost flows smoother than the Mississippi river on a good day.  Which is why I am freaking pissed, angry, and immediately envelop myself in a field of loathe and anger when the secret giver assumes that I gave their secret away.  

WHAT THE FUCK MAN.  Do they even know how hard it is to keep their secrets?  It’s not that I mind; it actually makes me feel good when people see me as their confidante.  But the moment they gather the guts to question my word — the word I gave them after they shared their secrets — it just fucking makes me want to shove their faces to the wall.  I’m doing everything that I can to understand as much as I should; I’ve always believed that we are in this world challenged to be more empathic (read: compassion).  But you have no right to question my loyalty.

I believe I am one of the most loyal people you’ll ever meet.  When you’re right, I’ll defend you.  When you’re wrong, I’ll protect you.  I’ll protect you to the skin of my teeth.  I tell you what your mistakes are, I give you valid advice, I don’t shrug off your criticism, I accept and reject with proper reasoning and logic.  So why the fuck would you question the one thing that I promised I would do for you?

Sometimes, it’s not worth it anymore.  Being a friend to this kind of people.  The ones who constantly question the level of your friendship.  Of MY friendship.  You don’t get to do that.  Because I don’t fucking do that to you.

I’m so relieved to get this off my chest.  I didn’t realize just how much it has been bothering me until I actually sat down and started punching the keys to this thing.  This laptop, by far, is the best material investment I’ve ever made.  

I made everyone wait, including myself.

/ iamsupercarla / 10 Comments

Something is off.  I can feel it in my bones.  Last Saturday, I went with Adah, Alfie and Amanda (and Euske the bungi!) to the Fully Booked short story writing seminar at The Fort.  The speaker was Tara FT Sering, a Palanca winner, and she was teaching us how to develop a character and complex plots in hopes of adding depth to the story.  I believe it’s been a while since I last attended something that fed my artistic fancy.  I was surrounded by great teachers from various language schools, aspiring writers, contributors, and even an idol (Thank you God for that day).  For that afternoon, I was moved.  For a good solid two hours, I was driven to write.

So after dining with my friends, I came home and indulged by surfing the Internet, much love to the free wifi connection.  Then I went to my journal, realizing that it’s been a week (yet again) since I last wrote something and two weeks since I last wrote something of substance.  Just when I thought I was moved, I was stuck.  A solid hour.  I was just staring at this blank page, not knowing what to write.  And it’s not like me to not have an opinion about something.  And again, I was depressed.

There’s something about this training that’s flushing out all of my artistic fuel.  I think it’s the fact that I am trying so hard to catch up with everyone else (and everything else) that’s driven me out of the artsy fartsy canvas.  And I miss it.  I miss the abstract display of emotion, and the verbose stylings of poets and young writers, and the romanticism of death, and the tragedy and comedie (as spelled by good ol’ Will) of love.  I miss them all.  I should really do something.  This is the kind of skill that’s not covered in our training modules.

I do remember one thing in the seminar that proved to be most useful for me:  just write.  What if I get writer’s block?  Just write.  Even just about random things?  Yes.  Even if it’s just a collection of fragments and phrases?  Um.. duh.  Even if thoughts are not cohesive?  Just fucking write.

And so I did.

Ending thought:  Dylan and I should visit a museum soon.