Chameleon

I was feeling a few somethings tonight although truth be told, it has been bugging me since early this afternoon. I wrote this as...poetry, i guess? And then it became a rap in my head. I'm not sure if this is all there is.

Tell me honestly
Would you have liked me more if i were him
Or her, or they, would you still complain
About our clash of personality because truthfully
Can't say i'm sure this is really me
I see what i see then i copy
Their mind and tongue, it's not a blast
But who ever said that it would be fun?
But is this it? Am i finally done?
Can i lose the act and let the real deal come?
But which is fiction and which is not?
I can't tell anymore and it's all my fault

Originality
Did it lose its way in this insanity
This insanity that grants me peace
But only when i play the keys
To the right song, at the right time
Well at times my hands can feel so tight
Like it's handcuffed, fingers numb as fuck
And the only blood that i feel flowing
Is from the hole in my chest which you put there, see?

Shape-shifts used to be a makeshift coping device
Lately it's just confusing like, which skin am i even using?
I lost me in myself, i'm stuck like super glue in this cell
But is this prison really mine
Or is it someone else's version of hell

Pre-U Orientation

What happens to me a day before college unofficially starts? I get sick. Technically, i got sick about two days ago but point is, i'm still sick and i've got to be up by 7.30 tomorrow for orientation at 8.30 at my new school, the university i'd be spending the next four years or so attending. Where's good luck when i need it? Oh right, i've already used it all up. Well, fuck me. Not only did the barber mess up(kind of) my cut, i managed to get a fever, flu and a sore throat over the course of two days. I bet it's everybody's dream to attend their first day of college where they're forced to smile at foreign faces and make new friends who hopefully won't stab you in the back while coughing their lungs out and giving the new class of 2020 an unknown respiratory disease.

I hope i don't sneeze into anyone's face or accidentally cough into someone's lunch tomorrow. I hope i don't sound like batman either when i say my hello, i'm Val, short for Valerie. Lastly, I hope my hair doesn't abruptly decide that it's a good day tomorrow to look like wild, dehydrated, uncut grass. Sigh, will God hear my empty prayers? Or will He laugh this off again? Jesus, i don't want to be branded as the sick kid on the first day of college. Or the weird one either. I'm aiming for somewhere in between cool and hipster because no, hipster doesn't mean cool. Hipsters are people who are different, out of the norm. Cool is, well, cool. And not everybody who's a hipster can be classified as cool. If that were the case, nerds with those baggy knee-length denim shorts and faded, over-sized tees would be the new trend. But then again, they're not what people call "hipster", because they already have their very own brand name --nerds.

So yeah, i'm looking to be different, but not different different to the extent of getting avoided by people because that wanna-be kid is fucking weird. A comfortable spot right at the intersection point of 'cool' and 'hipster' would be nice. Just, nice. But to achieve that is a hard ass task. It's already challenging, and confusing enough to dress as a tomboy, although honestly, i don't dress to be anything. I just aim for something that doesn't make me look like i live in a fish market, that's it. But yes, it's already a problem to cross-dress and have a boy's hairdo when my chest and hip area obviously show that i am in fact, a female. So, if i were to try and dress a little more differently, like in a way that has me walking around with a sign that says trying to stand out hanging off my neck, people from this shithole would start being narrow-minded, judgmental and under-educated assholes.

And that's something i'm not totally okay with because over the years, i realized that i'm not really good when it comes to dealing with other people's opinion. Like, image means a lot to me and although i might be labelled as gay or whatnot, that doesn't bother me as much because being gay isn't something negative, not in my opinion anyway(as it should in everybody else's as well), but if I were to attend classes with what i usually wear around my close friends when we hang out or how i usually act around them too and then something along the lines of god, she's disgusting or we should stay away from her was thrown at me, i would break. I would break and have a really tough time trying to pull myself back together, And that's really bad, considering that it's my first year of college and i really shouldn't be focused on anything else like keeping myself from falling apart other than my grades.

Right, so i hope i don't sweat tomorrow. Or get too cold. Or look sick. I want to meet new people in my best condition and meeting/talking to people while sounding like something died and decomposed in my throat probably isn't the best way to start a new school life. I'll have a little praying session tonight then. Peace.

Also, the photo in my student ID card has me looking like shit. Like, i've just fallen into a rabbit hole of shit, landed into a pile of shit and then have myself cleaned with shit. Shit.

Pancakes And Cookies

I've been reading this fanfic by a guy known as "pancakesandcookies" and although it isn't mind-blowing good, it was pretty solid for a fanfic. He wasn't cheesy with the dialogues, didn't over do them either. He left hints of wittiness here and there, just enough to put a smile or a smirk on my face. I'm telling you this because i absolutely can't hold it in much longer, i just needed to tell someone about it. Of course, i told Kai but that didn't feel enough. The Kryber fanfic is just, it's a keeper. I'm going to be hooked on it for a while and this makes me really, really glad because i can't even remember the last time i got so hyped up or giddy reading a Kryber fanfiction. Ah, i missed those days.

Anyway, i decided to drop by his page again today and read his collection of one-shots. He had okay ones, good ones, and really unnecessary ones but overall, they're likable. Lovable, even. There was this particular one-shot he wrote. Well, two actually. One is called "6'o Clock News" and the other "Newspaper" and let me tell you how much they made me want to explode with teenage hype. "6'o Clock News" was short, but it was different and kept a good flow and vibe going so i liked it. I've always preferred pre-Kryber-relationship-phase anyway. I just can't help but adore the way the characters meet for the first time, or talk for the first time.

And then, there's "Newspaper". Now, this is all sorts of cliches bundled up into one story, but my god, he did an excellent job with it. He managed to make it non-cringeable, and for a gender bender, it wasn't annoying or just blehhh which is how i usually feel when i read gender benders. And it was so cute! Like, this kind of cuteness should be illegal, because it has the ability to make sad people like me momentarily mistake myself as not-sad. It's just so, good. I mean, it's not like amazing or anything, because i've read amazing and while this wasn't it, it had potential. A shitload of potential. Jason, the writer's real name, says that English isn't his first language and it really does show from his writing, but for someone who isn't all that comfortable with English, he's doing a great job at hiding it. He writes a little differently than how most of us fanfic writers would, the average ones and not like "deathbyeyessmile" or splendid writers like her. It feels more like a story written for pleasure rather than an essay you were forced to write for school, which is something i do a lot with my stories, I can't help it. My way with words has always felt strained and so limited. I hate it and for this, i'm incredibly jealous of Jason for being able to have this relaxed way of writing. It just doesn't feel fair.

So, "Newspaper" is as cliched and cute as it goes. It's definitely a great read, totally worth anyone's time. And i love the two character's confrontation part. The much awaited and anticipated confession was put out there, an elephant in the room, and Jason navigated the story so well that it didn't come off as fucking cheesy or mushy which i had originally thought it would because most writers had a tendency to do this, even if they didn't intend to. It just happens. But i'm really glad it didn't happen in "Newspaper". Ugh, so bloody jealous of his dialogues and smooth flow of confrontations and not overdoing anything.

I Don't Even Know

Last December they said 
The world'll be a better place
I remember the hope
That shined with every embrace

Times have changed
So will we
It's only right to leave the bad buried
And keep the good going

We see the same darkness
And feel the same cold
The stars will always shine wherever we go
Though sometimes you'll see them
And sometimes you won't
Just because it's a little dark
Doesn't mean they're gone
You might think you can't reach them
But never try, never know

It's December today
We're still waiting for change
I can still taste the sweat
With every hope for a chance 

Would you stand
Just to fall
It'll only get harder and harsher
Before it gets better

We see the same darkness
And feel the same cold
The stars will always shine wherever we go
Though sometimes you'll see them
And sometimes you won't
Just because it's a little dark
Doesn't mean they're gone
You might think you can't reach them
But never try, never know

Untitled

I know you care

But you get tired too

Nothing is fair

But i'm not looking for

Balance, equality

They never really bothered me

All that i truly need is to breathe

Racing my own shadow up the stairs

I swear i'll get out of this place

I'm sure i'm made for something else

For now i'll make a home out of hell

I try to feel good for myself

God knows what everybody else

Thinks of my negativity

But it's the one thing that ever speaks to me

Leave me alone

I see the guilt in your eyes

Not moving on

Why should i listen to

The bullshit you have to say

It never helped me anyway

I'm sorry for everything, i give in

Racing my own shadow up the stairs

I swear i'll get out of this place

I'm sure i'm made for something else

For now i'l make a home out of hell

I try to feel good for myself

God knows what everybody else

Thinks of my negativity

It's the one thing that ever speaks to me

I know, i know

I probably speak too much

But somehow, somehow

They still aren't enough

For me to make you stay

For me to feel okay

"I Was Here"

I might have forgotten to update you about my results but they aren’t really worth mentioning. Mostly, because they suck and I’m quite ashamed of my performance, as much as it was expected. Still, it was kind of sucker punch to the face or having a bucket of cold water splashed over your head moment. I didn’t like it. As expected, I did badly. And as expected, everyone was sort of disappointed even though they claimed that “you did really well! Excellent results! Good job!” It wasn’t something that could be covered up with phony pep talks although their effort was and is greatly appreciated. Of course, like all shitty things that happen in life, my grandma was subtle about talking to me about it at first, spilling words of comfort on me like I was ice-cream and the words were candies but soon after, the you could’ve done better or this only happened not because you’re stupid but because you didn’t study hard enough came pouring out like Pepsi out of a shaken can. But, whatever. I’m trying to get over it, if only she’d just let it go.

Anyway, I just finished a book. The first book I’ve finished in most likely, a year. Kind of a big deal to me right now. To say I’ve lost interest in reading would be a less shadowy way of telling people that I’ve changed and not for the better, I don’t think. I’ve always enjoyed, loved reading but last year, it was just improbable for me. I barely had enough concentration and energy left to go over school books, what more to say about leisure reads? I wanted to, but the more I red, the more dyslexic I felt I was becoming. The words were almost always swimming around after spending five or ten minutes on it and after countless attempts and lying six feet deep in the sands of denial, I chose the only option I had –I gave up. I just couldn’t do it anymore. So, for the whole of last year and parts of the year before that, I stopped being a reader. I stopped being a lot of things I used to be.

Now that the phase is starting to feel more like a phase rather than something that’s here to leech off of you for the rest of your life, I’ve been trying to push myself to pick up reading again. It wasn’t easy, it still isn’t but I like to think I’m going somewhere with it and today is proof of that. During my post-SPM days, I think I tried to read and finish at least 5 books, but to this day I have yet to see any of them through. Yes, they were old books and most of them I’ve already read if not once, then twice but they didn’t appeal to me any less. If anything, I was absolutely thrilled to read them again because as a used-to-be avid reader, I love picking up on words, phrases and the hidden meanings I might have missed first time round. So yeah, second readings are fun. They provide you with further confirmation and insights on the book you thought you knew inside-out but in fact, didn’t. Kind of like having a best friend and constantly asking them the same questions on the same things, just to see if their answers would remain the same because if they happened to have a change of perception or heart one day, you wouldn’t be left in the dark about it.

Right, back to the book. I guess since the actual, actual reason for me not reading for about a year and a half, or more, I’m not sure, was because of health issues related to the mentalities, it was only natural that the first book I finish in what felt like eternity, had something to do with well, that. The synopsis at the back of book started off like this, “I regret to inform you that I have had to take my own life…” As depressing as it sounds, it’s actually not that depressing of a book. When my family and I were at the bookstore and I asked my mom if I could borrow some money for the book because I didn’t have enough with me, borrow because I felt bad for just straight up asking money from her, she asked what book? And being the little ball of mischief my brother was, he answered Fifty Shades something and that of course, got her attention so she insisted that I show her the book and proceeded to checking it out. The first thing she said when she started reading the back of the book was oh my god, which gradually turned into this is depressing, why would you read something like this, it makes me want to kill myself. While on the surface, I looked to be shrugging of her reaction but in all actuality, my insides were laughing their asses, if they had one, off. The whole time they were thinking to themselves, “what normal person, teenager would read something so sick,” I was trailing behind them, stuck in my little world of amusement, choking back laughter that was dying to get out there. Oh, if only they knew. If only.

The author of the book is actually the person who wrote Where She Went and the prequel before that, If I Stay which has been adapted into a movie I’ve yet to watch but really want to. While reading I Was Here, my emotions were surprisingly, not on a roller-coaster ride. They were a straight line. Literally, a straight line. It was not until the end of the book I cracked a few tears but that escalated as quickly and sudden as it came and it was all downhill after that. To put it frankly, the book was a disappointment. The beginning was alright, with the element of surprise still in the air. Then came the middle and it got a little draggy, unnecessary which is funny because the book itself isn’t thick; it was actually one of the shortest novels I’ve read. And then there was the sort-of climax, which didn’t feel like a climax at all because things were unfolding so slowly but everything was explained in the last few pages like why the climax wasn’t climax-y at all and I was like alright, yeah I could work with this, but then the most cheesy and clichéd ending happened and I almost threw the book across the room. Not that I have anything against cheesy clichés, but this particular book ending just made me cringe over and over again.

Okay, I’m going to try to explain this in the simplest way possible. So basically, the whole book’s about this dead girl’s best friend running around town and then going back and forth between two towns after her BFF offed herself because she discovered some dirty secret about her BFF right before her suicide which raised suspicions and blablableh. We get that suicides are a very scary, sensitive thing to talk or even think about so one would automatically think of this book as deep, emotional and gut-wrenching because hello, we’ve all read books or articles about people getting over deaths at one point of our lives so we know just how much of an emotional roller-coaster ride reading all that is. Maybe this is why I was so disappointed with the book, because it wasn’t emotional enough.

Like, it had its fair share of mystery, tragedy and yeah, romance too and they were all pretty solid but when your best friend just killed herself over God-knows what and had a serious problem she kept secret for as long as your friendship with her lasted, which is a pretty long period of time until she died that is, collected and sane aren’t exactly the two words to describe you with. Not even close. But shockingly, these would be the best two words I could use to draw a picture of what the protagonist’s thoughts looked or felt like because if my best friend died and if I really thought of her as the best friend, I’d be an emotional wreck and not someone calm as fuck with collected and sensible thoughts. I wouldn’t be thinking about the weather, or other people or how I looked because every thought I’d have, it would be of her or something related to her. And I’d look like the meeting, or collision point of shock, confusion, anger, sadness, regret and all things bad. But that was not how Cody, the living best friend was portrayed. And I guess it kind of just ticked me off, that she wasn’t completely focused on her dead best friend. Instead, she was getting distracted by people, boys especially and other irrelevant stuff. I get that it happens, and that everyone’s different so the way they deal would be different too, but if there’s anything that connects us humans together, it’d be death. Death is mutual. We all die and we all feel the lingering after-effects of death when someone we know dies.  So, even if it were different, it couldn’t be all that different, could it?

Yeah, in shorter words, I like the beginning of the book and hate the end, but holistically, I like it. I like how some of the sentences, phrases were put and I like the author’s thinking at certain parts of the book. The conversations between characters were mellow, hollow and highly unforgettable although there were a few witty comebacks every now and then before they took a sudden turn towards cheesy as fuck lane at the end. And that was just messed up. They say love changes people, but the change doesn’t just happen overnight, does it?

COMING TOOFUCKING SOON: SPM RESULTS

Oh my god. Time flies like it's on flipping rush-hour on a Monday morning because apparently, three months have passed since I sat for spm and the results will be released this Tuesday which is less than 48 hours from now. To state the obvious, I am completely freaking out. I am freaking out like I've never freaked out before. It's this, I don't even know how to explain this, but I kind of feel like I want to jump off a building somewhere to compare that adrenaline to this adrenaline I'm feeling right now so I'd know just how much I'm freaking out. If I were a guy, I would've already jerked off twenty times within two hours because I can't handle the pressure of spending even a second thinking about my results.

My results, I'm not even the least prepared for it. I've always thought I had more time, more days and more hours but now that it's blowing over like a fucking storm in monsoon season towards me, I feel completely screwed up. Will I be screwed? I'm too young to have done the things I did and too dumb to have thought that all will turn out fine in the end. I know I don't live in a silver screen or within the pages of storybooks I never believed in when every other five year old did, but somehow, in some stupid way, I've managed to convince myself that "oh, it'll all work out, no need to break a sweat over something so silly." Silly? Try the single most, if not second most important grade in my entire life as a human being because one less grade A or one more grade C will determine if I'd end up crying next to a dumpster or in the living room of my penthouse suite.

Good lord, I have no idea what I've been doing. I still don't. And because I'm constantly stuck in this limbo of never knowing or doing anything which I've created for myself, I will find myself in the most horrible, sad and pathetic situation on Tuesday. What am I going to do? It sucks balls too because I've only started feeling okay, or even good when I'm lucky, recently. So, if this Tuesday turned out to be one of the worst days of my life, I'm not sure what it'd do to my mental well-being. I'm not sure what I'd do with or to myself.

I've even reached a point where praying feels useless and unnecessary. Please, let me be okay. I'm not asking for good or great but just average, non-disappointment bringing okay. I want to be okay. I crave to be okay. I need to be okay. Please, god. I'm so scared. I'm so freaked out. Help.