The painter fell off the tree...

I'm starting to curse the existence of 4-hour breaks during my Monday&Wednesday schedules... Probably because of the massive boredom dawning upon me and a classmate during this presumed wee hours by other people...

I'm not happy with the lineup of teachers I have for this semester. Although some are boldly marked with a check on their records in positive preference for my future grades, I agree to what EJ thinks that my tuition's not spent wisely if that were so. Talk about having an African-obsessed theatre arts teacher in exchange for my supposed Literature professor ...
Nevertheless, I have no choice...

I still don't feel the thrill in this new semester... Although resectioning and dissolving were bypassed by the college, I was lightly saddened by the fact that a lot of my former blockmates have decided to shift from, if not leave, our section... It's not really depressing... Still, you feel a certain void starting to grow inside your heart as you move on, and even heavier as more individuals choose to depart as well...

Moments are exquisite, as those are permanent marks in time that can never be erased... No matter how far you embark towards future's worldly intentions, history can never be changed... You might choose to forget a part of your life, yet the memory shall still inevitably live in another person's heart...

***
Awhile ago, I was in the library trying to do an internal monologue a.k.a. stream of consciousness for a new post in my journal. However, I was seated next to this guy who was so into plagiarism for some unknown, yet unforgivable, reason... When he saw my site, he quickly copied the address and created his own, and can I say, ridiculous account...
Point forward: He expressed his unoriginality... I, on the other hand, expressed my loathe and spite for his immature act...

When I was in first year college - first semester, to be more specific - I had this classmate who imitated me like hell. She totally disheartened me to continue our friendship further, as she would always copy all of the descriptions in my identity... She'd try hard to like alternative rock and to apply the black motif on all her impractical possessions... She even bought her own notebook to use as her journal! My mind was reverberating with demands of authenticity.

Eventually, I had to tell her off... You couldn't blame me...

***
I'm a self-confessed download freak... I've achieved a download average of 1000MB/day...
Need I say more?
Oh... They're Jdoramas, if you know what they are...

Greens and Clinges

First days are sometimes thoughtless, or if put bluntly, useless...
Teachers sign your registration forms and after which, you are free to go... And where do you end up? In a seemingly evacuated fastfood chain near your school...

I lately realized that I'm having a harder time saving money ever since I got a raise in my allowance. I tend to spend more money than I should for a particular day. It sucks, believe me... Especially when by Friday, I reach in my pocket only to find out that I've nothing left but a pitiful 20-peso bill, enough to suffice for the day's transportation expenses... Geez...

***
My astrology sign dictates that I'm the type of person who indulges to too much clinginess...
I have always had this problem when it comes to relationships that may demand loyalty and trustworthiness... I rarely give my trust to someone, making me a very hard person to deal with... I have this cosmic terror of losing someone that has been a great influence in my life, or worse someone I've grown to really love... When I become close to someone, losing that person becomes such a tremendous difficulty for me that I may end up falling apart or losing myself... Terrible, huh?

So naturally speaking, if I end up as but bittersweet when you're gone... Maybe, you're not that important to me... My apologies for your may-have expectancy...

Posing for Hypocrisy

My mind is currently malfunctioning, probably from too much weariness... I just came back from a supposed "vacation" trip in Batangas... What to say... There was water, people, sand, people, air... Oh, and did I mention, people?? In two words: Nothing special. Or if you prefer one: Overpopulation.

A few days ago I was hopelessly experimenting on my blog settings, hoping to add a little thrill to it... Accidentally, I got hooked into clicking too many icons in my profile that I found myself rummaging through other people's blogs... It was then that I came across this blog-turned-friendster of a self-proclaimed rocker.
I was entertained by the settings on her blog, that I actually started to contemplate and wallow in my kinky pursuit to be more "technologically aware" in terms of customizing my own journal... I scanned through her profile, and lo and behold, she's a fan of Avril Lavigne and Simple Plan... Way to go, rockstar!!! Although I have to say, she really did so well in designing the whole site, that it was actually screaming colors of black and red...
What's with posers anyway? People would always say that we should respect what other people like... But I beg to disagree... I think it should actually be the other way around...

We should respect what others do not like.

If we respect others for their own interests and hide our own disgust, then that would be plain hypocrisy... I'd rather be found bashing a Britney Spears concert (or dead, at that) than pretending to enjoy her acrobatic-slash-ostentatious display...

Point here is, why care? If people hate what you think is cool, then deal with it... Don't even think of bribing or forcing them to like it back... Just think of it as your uniqueness, your identity... It's not cliche, but its sheer practicality...

How can you respect something that you're not even in agreement with? Better give your respect to someone who fearlessly says that s/he thinks your choice of music is odd... Or downright, ugly...

It's not about insecurity, but more of liberation and honesty...

For one thing, I do know that I'm not a hardcore rocker, but I love alternative rock, and I find silence and peacefulness in each crash of an electric guitar... To one person, I can well be a poser for him/her as well, but the thing is, I don't give a shit... For, in non-utopian settings, shit matters in perfect synchronization of its actuality... So, in mere terms, just don't give any... Treat them as inexistent...

There...

So much for looking at other people's blogs...

Killer, Killer!

Nikki said I look like a killer...

Well then, read through my profile, for I really am one...

I've lately arrived to this realization that I'm better off eating food than cooking it. I have 3 burns on my right hand, enough to paralyze the nerves on my skin... Or maybe not...
But I do have burns. My hand is cauterized.

MY CONTRADICTION
This is eventful, and I have to tell you this.
Luck was so hard to find then. I have foreseen
it with you. Yet for some known and obvious
reason, you've managed to win our only
argument. And that if I start losing myself,
I would have to let you know...
Well, I haven't...
Yet,
I may be lying...
It is misunderstood
moreover,
incomprehensible...

I wrote that, probably a few months ago. Honestly, I do not know which form of writing it's trying to identify itself with... Oh well...
Try this one...

YOUR BURNS AND MINE
Your photograph's the worst of its kind
I partake in that simplicity
Your apologies scratch veins in mind
I waste away my sanity
Your blessedness pries open my demons
I am an angel with black wings
Your heartbeat races all my summons
I portray the reaper who sings
Your slumber is my only defeat
I lock myself to your resound
Your forgottenness is all that's left
I only remain in its ground

Talk about angst... Yesterday, my father nonchalantly confirmed that he is sending me to med school. Not that I'm surprised or anything, it's just that, I still can't see myself being in one...
I've always wanted to be a writer and a corporate lawyer at the same time... But hey, scratch that, I think I also wanted to be a doctor when I was in elementary... *_* WTH??? But seriously, now that I'm more aware of the "reality bites" shenanigans in this country, I thought it best that I become a lawyer; I think I was already in highschool then... Since most doctors only end up succumbing to diaspora, or better yet, wallowing in the lesser degree of studying nursing, law is a better career option...

But enough about careers...
Writing.
I never really liked people reading my work, probably because I'm afraid that some megalomaniacs would misinterpret my boldness when it comes to this favorite passion of mine... I would only write all my poems, prose and thingamajigs on this worn-out black notebook kept inside my drawer, and with nothing but a mere pair of eyes, reading and rereading them... However, people grow... They should... And I thought to myself, "Just how could I ever improve as a writer, without letting people throwing spitbacks at my work?"
As I would always say...

I'M DIFFERENT ON PAPER THAN I AM IN AIR

And by being different, you just can't help but be hated, or worse, envied most, if not all, of the time. Thus, my motto: Like Me or Leave Me...

Hatred is a passion, a holdback, a remorse, a regret... It's only tentative, unlike angst that could rip people apart from the inside... It is in the gradual sense of nature, that people in the end, would be left with no other choice but to accept your disparity from them...

So this is Hiker's Emancipation... My release, my pandora's box... All the evils within myself that I'm not ashamed to let all of you know...

So on and End... End and so on...

I have a blog...
And I'm no good in doing customizing crap...

Well there... It's my ultimate frustration to have one...

Now I don't know what to put in, except that... I'm jaded... Damn jaded...
I just finished writing my prose for the journal...


I hope it gets published, for it wrecked my brain, for crying out loud!
And now, i have nothing left to write about in my blog...
Demmit...

So much for having writing as a passion...