I've decided to let go of writing as a completely different person. Okay, so maybe we weren't exactly 'completely different'. I might miss thinking in that way again so you never know when i'll go back to my "Dear friend" phase. Oh and i remember the name of the persona of the book/movie. His name's Charlie. Moving on, it is the third week(??) since school began and i haven't done anything remotely productive that could assist me in getting better results for my finals. How the heck am i supposed to be a better student with the attitude and mindset that i still bare in me? I promised myself at the end of last year that i'd try my best to be a different person so i can prove to God and everybody else that i'm more than just some lazy, messed up teenager seeking for attention from neglectful parents. Everyday, no wait, every second of my day, i'm reminded of what i've become. My grandma always criticizing me on my weight, my hair, my studies, my attitude, my mom telling me off about nothing because all she ever talks about is herself and her life and the rest of my family expressing their decomposing faith in me about how i'd perform in my finals.
It gets tiring listening to them and seeing them think of me as the failure of the family. I know i've got loads more to disappoint them in the near future, but for now, everything that i'm going through has already been a little too much for me to handle. God knows how i'm going the survive the next 30 years of my life. I have all these problems bottled up that i can't tell anyone because there isn't anyone for me to tell, but sooner or later i end up telling you though when i do, i don't feel as horrible as i did then so nothing much actually gets told and the problems are still left unsolved, collecting even more dust from anger, hate and sadness that i've acquired little by little.
This morning i woke up in peace and it was great getting out of bed without seeing anybody or anything that might cause my mood to take a turn for the worse but the moment i get out of shower, dressed up and walked out of the room, the mental disruptions began. It started off with my grandma. I couldn't blame her though because she's going through a lot too, but it's just very nerve-wrecking to have someone ruin your second-favorite day of the week with bad news especially if you've already had a week of b.s. She continued to wreck my morning with family gossip and even worse family news. As soon as she started talking and thinking about it, she couldn't stop. I tried to talk some sense into her, telling her not to overthink because things might not be as bad as she thought but she just continued and it was just annoying. I was having breakfast and there she was listing out every single problem our family has faced since the beginning of the dino era and all i could think about while she went on and on is how sorry i felt for not being about to tolerate her complaints and her telling me about her problems because the truth was that i wanted so bad to understand, to listen to whatever she has to say because she's my grandmother and i love her, but i just can't. All i hear are screams. And the more she talks, the louder it gets.
And then afterwards when i went up to my room to try to shut everything out, my kakak walked in and she was all, "Can you clean your desk? Can you organize your books? Do you need this paper? How about this flashdrive?" And i answered no i'm trying to read my book can you please be quiet because i was in fact, trying to read my Biology book but i failed to do so because some family member couldn't stay quiet for five minutes. She was silent for maybe 45 seconds then she started up again. "Val you have to clean your stuff how will you ever find a boyfriend. No husband will ever tolerate your habits and behavior. Guys will avoid you." This is what i have to deal with on a daily basis. You have no idea how many times i wanted to just throw a naked picture of a girl in their face and scream I DON'T EVEN WANT GUYS. Everyday they remind me of how much i'll be needing a man in my life and blabla and I honestly do not give two rat's ass about how much i need a guy in my adult life or how i should prepare myself so people with dicks would find me worthwhile and put a wedding ring up my finger and live happily ever after.
Screw you and your assumptions and your stupid perspective of life. PEACE.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Dear Friend Again
18 January 2014
Dear friend,
I am about to tell a story about myself. Nobody knows about yet and that is why I decided to share with you so you become the first person to ever know about this. I am typing in this way again because this a personal story but I would like to not be affected in any way as I form these sentences in my head. Thinking like this make things a little different because it feels like I am telling a story about someone else rather than myself and just maybe I would not feel as sad and disturbed by it. This is a very good way to see and think of things from a different perspective.
A short period of time ago I was diagnosed with "Mild Depression". I will not say too much about how I knew about it because it does not matter since I kind of have known all along. I might have seen this coming but I never really thought that something like this would actually become a part of my life. I guess I would not say that I am shocked by it but a while has passed since I received news of my mental state and things feel a little more different now. It feels like I am categorized and I am officially labeled as a mentally disturbed person. I also feel different because I don't cry every time something bad or sad happens to someone I know or in the movies they shown on TV anymore. I still feel a little down at times but not down enough to bring water back into my eyes and sometimes when I stare up towards the white ceiling of my bedroom I don't think of walls crashing or parents screaming anymore. Sometimes I just stare and not really think of anything in particular.
But of course there are also the bad days where I go to school and all I can think about is going home or finding a secret corner in school to cry or beat myself up at. I don't like the bad days. I feel like I am a needle in everyone's eyes and every second I spend around people is another second of their lives I wasted and I don't want them to think of me as a person of negativity but honestly I just don't want anybody to think of me. I am like a virus to their mind, spreading an incurable disease and one day they are going to realize what I have done and pin me on the board for being a sorry excuse of a friend. I don't want to be the friend that everybody regrets befriending. I don't want to be remembered as the weak, pathetic, needy little child that breaks down as easy as an old car and this is me over-thinking. According to people over-thinking is bad because we may or may not be making things up in our head and it's these 'things' that make our lives miserable and not worth living.
I don't know. I just feel different and I am not sure if that is a good or bad thing.
I don't know. I just feel different and I am not sure if that is a good or bad thing.
Yours truly,
Valerie.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
The Perks of Being A Fan of The Perks of Being A Wallflower
5 January 2014
Dear friend,
I am dedicating this blog update to The Perks of Being A Wallflower, both the movie and book. Therefore, I am trying my best to write in a way that is somewhat similar to Perks, the original book version of course. I would not say i have fallen head over heels for the 'franchise', but it has enlighten some darker parts of my life. I will talk a little about the book first just to make things a little clearer to you, my dearest friend. I hope from the bottom of my heart that by the end this blog update you will understand the message I am trying to send you and that you would continue being supportive of me like you did before despise what people might say about people like me. Perks is an interesting book that should be made into one of those English Lit book that they make us read at school even though it would be much less appropriate but I really believe that the book is able to teach many things to students, maybe even to people like me. It talks about the life of a wallflower. I didn't understand the term 'wallflower' before so i asked my mom the other day about it and she said to me, "A wallflower is someone who stands or hangs around by the wall when a social activity like a dance is happening." It was a literal way of explaining but I think I know what the word means now. It's someone who isn't good with crowds or with anyone actually so they end up by the wall alone or alone with other people who are also alone. The persona in the book, a teenager named, I don't remember his name but that's okay because I remember the other two names who are equally important as the persona in the book but it is a little weird that I can't remember the most important name of all. The persona is a boy who is a wallflower. He doesn't know how to talk to people or make people laugh or fit in or anything like that. He would like to but he just doesn't seem to get noticed by people his age or anyone else from school. Also he is suffering from depression and doesn't seem to be very good at keeping himself in check but things got better once he started seeing people whom he called friends. He was okay for a while as long as his friends were talking to him and making him feel like he was there and that he mattered but once they leave things got bad again. And the book is about him getting from bad to good to great to bad to really bad and to okay again. I know many would not find this very interesting or time-worthy but it feels like a breath of fresh air to me.
I realized that this is not talking a little about the book but I really like talking about it because it means I don't have to think about other things that might ruin the moment. Maybe I'll just keep talking about the book. I am a fan of Perks because unlike any other movies I've seen with the exception of The Silver Lining's Playbook it feels very raw and weird and real and all over the place in a good way. It's like you never know what is going to happen because in books or movies like these anything can happen and watching or reading them makes me feel like it's true. They can go from happy to rage in a matter of seconds but it happens without making things too crazy for you to understand which is a good thing because I have problem understanding things sometimes. I like the movie version of it because it is absolutely accurate to whatever happens in the book and that isn't something easy to achieve. The actors and actresses who played their part in the movie as the characters from the book did an impressive job. They made it real. They made the book come alive even more than it already is. Also the movie has a great selection of music even though they might not be my favorite genre but they really do bring out a lot from the movie. I don't know how to explain what exactly the soundtrack brings out but it is something amazing and good and it is worth listening to when the movie plays out in front of you.
I hope that this blog update will not be ridiculed because it takes a lot for someone who doesn't normally talk or think or type like this to talk and think and type like this. I say again how refreshing it is to be able to think in a way that is no where similar to my usual way of thinking. It is refreshing and interesting so I would very much like to do this again. Maybe on my next blog update I would but I promise I won't talk so much on Perks but maybe a little something about me because if you were really interested in Perks you would be searching it up on Google and not reading my update.
Yours truly,
Valerie.
Friday, January 3, 2014
B-I-T-C-H
I've just been called a bitch. And you know what's worse than being called a bitch? It's being called a bitch by your own mother. And you know what's worse than being called a bitch by your own mother? It's being called a bitch by your own mother knowing that she meant what she said. When she first said it, i felt myself drowning in some sort of pathetic pool of anger which i've gathered earlier on from the nagging from my family about how i should really put more pressure into my studies and everything else should just cease to exist in my life for this year. I was angry because they might not know this, but i'm pressured enough as it is. Being told that i've been a disappointment to my mother, to my grandmother, a few years back was enough to leave a wound behind and i never quite got over it. I was never the same after that. Everyday was a constant reminder of what a loser i've become, that i didn't deserve the life that i have before me. I guess that was the beginning of my journey of wilting away.
After being called a bitch, i just couldn't stop the tears from forming behind my already blurring eyes. I'm fully aware of the fact that yes, i'm a bitch, but it's different when you hear those words coming from the woman who has given you your life. I know i should've been used to it by now, hearing insulting comments and harsh words from my mother, but you know, it still hurts every time she says it. If i could stop myself from being so weak, so sensitive towards people's opinion towards me, i would, but this isn't people. This is my mom. My mom who loves me i'm sure, from the deepest part of her heart. My mom who loves food almost as much as she loves her family. My mom who always says things that kills me without knowing it. My mom who would probably hate me when she finds out that i'm much, much more of a disappointment than she ever credited me to be.
Haha, i wish i was all smiles and laughing as i typed this out, but i'm not. With every sentence that forms in my head, a single tear formed from the tearing of my heart drops down on the bed i'm lying on. I tell myself, it's not that bad, words are just words, they don't cause any sort of physical pain. Who said anything about physical pain? My friend said something to me the other day at school, something which i think a lot of us can relate to. "I feel like i'm drowning but everyone around me can breathe." Notice that the persona mentions the word 'feel' because nothing's really happening, she's not drowning in some ocean, and neither are the people around her, but it's just all in her head. Things might not be happening physically, but mentally, you can see it all fall into place. You can see the blade on your wrists as it cuts deeper and deeper. You can see the dagger in your chest as someone pushes it further in, while in reality you're lying in your room, looking up at the ceiling. Either way, the pain is there. You don't see the blood oozing out from your wounds, but that doesn't make the pain more bearable. Not being able to see the exact spot of your wound makes it impossible to detect where the pain is coming from, and by not knowing the source of your pain, how can you fix yourself? How do you fix something that's broken without knowing what's broken?
Or maybe there are too many broken pieces to fix and you just don't know where to start. And even if you managed to fix something, what's the point when there's more to be broken down again? Peace.
After being called a bitch, i just couldn't stop the tears from forming behind my already blurring eyes. I'm fully aware of the fact that yes, i'm a bitch, but it's different when you hear those words coming from the woman who has given you your life. I know i should've been used to it by now, hearing insulting comments and harsh words from my mother, but you know, it still hurts every time she says it. If i could stop myself from being so weak, so sensitive towards people's opinion towards me, i would, but this isn't people. This is my mom. My mom who loves me i'm sure, from the deepest part of her heart. My mom who loves food almost as much as she loves her family. My mom who always says things that kills me without knowing it. My mom who would probably hate me when she finds out that i'm much, much more of a disappointment than she ever credited me to be.
Haha, i wish i was all smiles and laughing as i typed this out, but i'm not. With every sentence that forms in my head, a single tear formed from the tearing of my heart drops down on the bed i'm lying on. I tell myself, it's not that bad, words are just words, they don't cause any sort of physical pain. Who said anything about physical pain? My friend said something to me the other day at school, something which i think a lot of us can relate to. "I feel like i'm drowning but everyone around me can breathe." Notice that the persona mentions the word 'feel' because nothing's really happening, she's not drowning in some ocean, and neither are the people around her, but it's just all in her head. Things might not be happening physically, but mentally, you can see it all fall into place. You can see the blade on your wrists as it cuts deeper and deeper. You can see the dagger in your chest as someone pushes it further in, while in reality you're lying in your room, looking up at the ceiling. Either way, the pain is there. You don't see the blood oozing out from your wounds, but that doesn't make the pain more bearable. Not being able to see the exact spot of your wound makes it impossible to detect where the pain is coming from, and by not knowing the source of your pain, how can you fix yourself? How do you fix something that's broken without knowing what's broken?
Or maybe there are too many broken pieces to fix and you just don't know where to start. And even if you managed to fix something, what's the point when there's more to be broken down again? Peace.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Pathetic, Really
I just totally had like one of the worst meltdowns i had in my 16 years of life. And i'm really embarrassed about it, really, because during the haze of it all, with my family yelling(well not exactly yelling but god they were loud) and me trying to hold the sensitive, fragile part of me intact, i ran up to my room, cried my eyeballs out and made a huge mistake of sliding my phone on when a WhatsApp text from my friend was received. I wasn't going to just spill my heart out to her, or anyone, i've said it before, it's pathetic and humiliating, and God i just wished it hadn't happened, but it did. So she texted me a question very much related to the issue of the night and i just went all teenage-angst on her. I was crying and texting and crying and crying and texting and checking whether anyone was about to walk into the room and find me drowning in my own pathetic-ness because no, i couldn't let that happen. So yeah, i really didn't plan to tell anyone about my deepest thoughts, but it just rushed out, and i couldn't stop it. And yes, i am very much embarrassed at what i did and hope that what i told my friends hadn't ruin her night or anything.
I don't know, life's just really messed up right now and you know what, growing up really isn't a walk in the park. If i hadn't known better, suicide might sound like a better option. I'm calmed down, and ready to apologize for whatever shit i have told anybody. I don't even remember what i said to anyone, shit, things are really effed up right now. Damage control, coming right up. I'm just sorry for being an overemotional, pathetic, disappointing loser. Peace.
I don't know, life's just really messed up right now and you know what, growing up really isn't a walk in the park. If i hadn't known better, suicide might sound like a better option. I'm calmed down, and ready to apologize for whatever shit i have told anybody. I don't even remember what i said to anyone, shit, things are really effed up right now. Damage control, coming right up. I'm just sorry for being an overemotional, pathetic, disappointing loser. Peace.
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Nobody's Child
Well. Just when i thought that things couldn't get any worse, it just did, like approximately 5 minutes ago. What is it this time val? You weren't allowed to buy new shoes? You realized that your favorite movie you've been waiting to be released isn't going to come out until next year during your exams? I wish things were that simple. I'm still rather shocked from the news that i've just heard from a family member. The memory's so fresh that i can still see the motion of my grandma's lips as she pronounced each and every word. I'm typing all this from my cellphone so it's a little frustrating but i don't know what do with myself right now. If i tried watching tv, i'd end up going up to the DVD player to switch the movie every 10 seconds. If i tried reading a book, i'd most likely end up on the floor and i couldn't do that do any of my books. If i tried listening to music, i might break down. So, here i am on Blogger, trying to express myself into words that are becoming more and more blurry under the lens of my eyes.
Honestly, i feel like a brat for doing this right now, complaining about my not-very-problematic-problem online when there are millions of people starving to death halfway across the world, but i needed to tell somebody. And because somebody doesn't exist in my life, i'm turning my attention towards the ever trustworthy and reliable online journal. I love my online journal because like my diary, it doesn't talk back when i say something mean or hurtful, it doesn't judge when i'm stripped bare in front of it and most importantly, it doesn't leave. All that's just great but when someone really needs a pep talk or some sort of support, an online journal or diary would've been completely and utterly useless, but i don't need a pep talk, i don't need somebody to cheer me up from the dumps. I just need somebody to listen to me, to hear what i have to say and then quietly understand what exactly i am going through. No human being can do that so this is where i come to whenever i'm feeling, like, this.
I've never really leaked out any gory information about my family or my home because i think that's dangerous to do online and it's wrong like why would you trashtalk about your family somewhere where everyone in the world can see when they feel like it. I've never exposed my family and never will, but they keep hurting me nevertheless.
We've never been a happy family as far as i can tell. The happiest of the days would be, never. Believe me, i did try to think of some day where my mom and dad was there, my brother, my grandma, me, everybody with smiling faces, but that day just doesn't exist. It has always been a falling-out-routine for us and when there are kids involved in this, wow, things just become a lot more complicated. And when one of the kids happen to be of age and being able to understand these things that are happening around her, well kid, prepare yourself for some fucked up bullshit. Being the eldest of siblings isn't just being the one with the oldest age, it means being the one who feels the hurt, the pain first. The one to cry yourself to bed while your little brother or sister sleeps peacefully every night. The one who gets it the worst when one of your parents leave. And the one who has to take care, to look out for her younger siblings, to make sure that they don't feel anything that you're feeling or going through anything remotely similar to your own condition.
I love my brother. And i hope he doesn't feel the way that i do right now when he gets the news, but he's luckier than i am in some ways. Ever since my mom and dad had problems, i've always been the one whom they wanna beat up cause i seemed to be always in the way, and when they mentioned divorce, i was the one who told my grandma to keep everything from my brother because he was 4 and was still too young to understand this while i go to wherever empty space i could find at home to try and figure things out myself. When my mom found somebody else and seemingly had settled down but not in a away two people in love would, i pushed my brother to be good, to be the sweet boy that he was and of course he did. He had the face and personality for it so it didn't take much for people to adore him. And so, he became my mom's favorite and i'm cool with that because that little boy who didn't know the truth till a few years before deserved that much from life.I pushed him to be closer with my dad too, and i think he did. I could tell from the way he talks about him, how much he loved and looked up to him. It's not fair. It's not fair that my brother had to grow up without his father.
As for myself, my father loved me too, i know that but i could tell just how much he wants to change me. I mean who else in my family wouldn't? My dad and grandma always telling me off about my hair. My grandma telling me how i was fat and ugly and didn't wanna do anything to change that about me. My grandma telling me to study, to do more than what i'm doing now because i'm already a big, fat disappointment and a waste of her time, energy and money. The only person who didn't pressure me about being me much was my mom, but it's not like she's Mother Theresa either. When she's in a bad mood, i can't even greet her without being scolded so badly that it makes me regret being born into this world. She doesn't realize it but every time she speaks to me, it's always been about her. And when she's actually talking about me, either she's nagging at me, sarcastically scolding me or just downright driving a blade into my heart. She was never one to think before talking anyways. So i gotta hold my chin up, at least until i reach the stairs up to my room, and then i rush up when she turns away. I usually spend the whole afternoon or night crying my heart out by the window, feeling sorry for myself because nobody would. And then when it's time for bed, i go into my bathroom, brush my teeth, clean up a bit and go to bed. I had to make sure i looked fine before i go to bed as i share a room with three other people and my grandma sleeps right next to me. Usually, before i lay myself down, my grandma would wait up for me until the lights are turned off and she finally shuts her eyes. To avoid getting questions i didn't want to answer, i needed to pull the "i'm totally fine" act and it works every time. It normally reaches 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning when i start to over-think and break down again.
So now that i know i won't and can't be the daughter and granddaughter that my parents and grandma wanted me to be, i just stop being so great. I kind of stopped trying because no matter what i do, they don't really see me coming back with a trophy or cert, they just see the fact that i got it but so could everybody else. And now, there's this sinking feeling in my heart, the one i sometimes get like when my grandfather died, my great-grandmother died, my parents' divorce, my father leaving us, my mother leaving us, my grandmother leaving me, my father getting a new wife, my mother caring about someone else more than she did us, my father getting a new daughter.
You see, i end up being nobody's child because they all got replacements for me. New and even more excellent replacements. My mom gets to have an un-messed up kid who grows up to be a great-looking fellow and brings back a wonderful, charming girl along with a qualifications from a big-shot university. My grandma gets to see one of her more "right" grandchild succeed in life and comes back with a fancy job that enables him to have rice on his rice bowl every other night. My father gets to have a normal daughter that he can actually spend actual time with, gets her normal girl-clothes that she'd wear and get to see her find a good boyfriend which is something i would never be able to do. Oh, and the new kid probably would have better hair too, something my dad had always wanted from me.
Sigh, i hope that the little girl coming to this world soon would at least have a better childhood and maybe better life than i did and would have in the near future for at the end of the day, i'm nobody's child. Lyrics from an All Time Low song come to mind, "Love yourself so no one has to, they're better off without you." Still, i wish that things could've turned out differently than it did. Peace.
Honestly, i feel like a brat for doing this right now, complaining about my not-very-problematic-problem online when there are millions of people starving to death halfway across the world, but i needed to tell somebody. And because somebody doesn't exist in my life, i'm turning my attention towards the ever trustworthy and reliable online journal. I love my online journal because like my diary, it doesn't talk back when i say something mean or hurtful, it doesn't judge when i'm stripped bare in front of it and most importantly, it doesn't leave. All that's just great but when someone really needs a pep talk or some sort of support, an online journal or diary would've been completely and utterly useless, but i don't need a pep talk, i don't need somebody to cheer me up from the dumps. I just need somebody to listen to me, to hear what i have to say and then quietly understand what exactly i am going through. No human being can do that so this is where i come to whenever i'm feeling, like, this.
I've never really leaked out any gory information about my family or my home because i think that's dangerous to do online and it's wrong like why would you trashtalk about your family somewhere where everyone in the world can see when they feel like it. I've never exposed my family and never will, but they keep hurting me nevertheless.
We've never been a happy family as far as i can tell. The happiest of the days would be, never. Believe me, i did try to think of some day where my mom and dad was there, my brother, my grandma, me, everybody with smiling faces, but that day just doesn't exist. It has always been a falling-out-routine for us and when there are kids involved in this, wow, things just become a lot more complicated. And when one of the kids happen to be of age and being able to understand these things that are happening around her, well kid, prepare yourself for some fucked up bullshit. Being the eldest of siblings isn't just being the one with the oldest age, it means being the one who feels the hurt, the pain first. The one to cry yourself to bed while your little brother or sister sleeps peacefully every night. The one who gets it the worst when one of your parents leave. And the one who has to take care, to look out for her younger siblings, to make sure that they don't feel anything that you're feeling or going through anything remotely similar to your own condition.
I love my brother. And i hope he doesn't feel the way that i do right now when he gets the news, but he's luckier than i am in some ways. Ever since my mom and dad had problems, i've always been the one whom they wanna beat up cause i seemed to be always in the way, and when they mentioned divorce, i was the one who told my grandma to keep everything from my brother because he was 4 and was still too young to understand this while i go to wherever empty space i could find at home to try and figure things out myself. When my mom found somebody else and seemingly had settled down but not in a away two people in love would, i pushed my brother to be good, to be the sweet boy that he was and of course he did. He had the face and personality for it so it didn't take much for people to adore him. And so, he became my mom's favorite and i'm cool with that because that little boy who didn't know the truth till a few years before deserved that much from life.I pushed him to be closer with my dad too, and i think he did. I could tell from the way he talks about him, how much he loved and looked up to him. It's not fair. It's not fair that my brother had to grow up without his father.
As for myself, my father loved me too, i know that but i could tell just how much he wants to change me. I mean who else in my family wouldn't? My dad and grandma always telling me off about my hair. My grandma telling me how i was fat and ugly and didn't wanna do anything to change that about me. My grandma telling me to study, to do more than what i'm doing now because i'm already a big, fat disappointment and a waste of her time, energy and money. The only person who didn't pressure me about being me much was my mom, but it's not like she's Mother Theresa either. When she's in a bad mood, i can't even greet her without being scolded so badly that it makes me regret being born into this world. She doesn't realize it but every time she speaks to me, it's always been about her. And when she's actually talking about me, either she's nagging at me, sarcastically scolding me or just downright driving a blade into my heart. She was never one to think before talking anyways. So i gotta hold my chin up, at least until i reach the stairs up to my room, and then i rush up when she turns away. I usually spend the whole afternoon or night crying my heart out by the window, feeling sorry for myself because nobody would. And then when it's time for bed, i go into my bathroom, brush my teeth, clean up a bit and go to bed. I had to make sure i looked fine before i go to bed as i share a room with three other people and my grandma sleeps right next to me. Usually, before i lay myself down, my grandma would wait up for me until the lights are turned off and she finally shuts her eyes. To avoid getting questions i didn't want to answer, i needed to pull the "i'm totally fine" act and it works every time. It normally reaches 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning when i start to over-think and break down again.
So now that i know i won't and can't be the daughter and granddaughter that my parents and grandma wanted me to be, i just stop being so great. I kind of stopped trying because no matter what i do, they don't really see me coming back with a trophy or cert, they just see the fact that i got it but so could everybody else. And now, there's this sinking feeling in my heart, the one i sometimes get like when my grandfather died, my great-grandmother died, my parents' divorce, my father leaving us, my mother leaving us, my grandmother leaving me, my father getting a new wife, my mother caring about someone else more than she did us, my father getting a new daughter.
You see, i end up being nobody's child because they all got replacements for me. New and even more excellent replacements. My mom gets to have an un-messed up kid who grows up to be a great-looking fellow and brings back a wonderful, charming girl along with a qualifications from a big-shot university. My grandma gets to see one of her more "right" grandchild succeed in life and comes back with a fancy job that enables him to have rice on his rice bowl every other night. My father gets to have a normal daughter that he can actually spend actual time with, gets her normal girl-clothes that she'd wear and get to see her find a good boyfriend which is something i would never be able to do. Oh, and the new kid probably would have better hair too, something my dad had always wanted from me.
Sigh, i hope that the little girl coming to this world soon would at least have a better childhood and maybe better life than i did and would have in the near future for at the end of the day, i'm nobody's child. Lyrics from an All Time Low song come to mind, "Love yourself so no one has to, they're better off without you." Still, i wish that things could've turned out differently than it did. Peace.
Blog Update For No Particular Reason
I know i kind of promised to elaborate more on my trip to the overseas, but i'm not really in the mood to type an 8-paged essay out right now. Honestly? I'm pissed. I'm annoyed. I'm being rather teenage-y tonight. I feel like, no actually, i don't feel anything much right now. It's kind of like this wall you hit when you're trying to reach into your heart/soul in search of a word to describe a feeling but of course you hit the wall and realize that you're actually feeling nothing. So, correction. I WAS pissed. I WAS annoyed, but i'm still being teenage-y because i'm here typing this out. I'm feeling like an insecure 15-year old teenage girl tonight for i just realized again how much of a pathetic loser i am. Pathetic because i'm letting my insecurities control me and i'm a loser because things that shouldn't matter to me or to anyone else actually does mean a lot to me. You know i'm just sick and tired of me being so pathetic. People say i have the power to do something about it and i know i do, but when you're sick and tired, all you wanna do is to just stab yourself and die.
I'm also tired of being the one who always turns into the odd-one-out. For me, things have always been like this. First hour, i'm into socializing and talking and making jokes about things that aren't really funny and just trying to do things that hold people together. Second hour, i talk and i nod and i watch things play out from the passenger seat. Third hour, i stop talking and i lose interest in everything and i wander into the darkness and see how everything is from an even further distance. Fourth hour, i start hating on things and i curse at anyone who attempts a conversation and i throw shitty looks at everyone and ruin everybody's damn day. When do i turn into the odd-one-out? At the end of the second hour. It's because only when i'm seeing things from the sidelines, i see how i've never really fitted in with everything. I turn around and i see people, friends, family, chatting and laughing and having the time of their lives while i'm just there. It's like i'm always just there, after the second hour that is.
So, this is like a uh, a process with actual steps that i go through everyday of my life. It always happens automatically. I don't have to set a timer or reminder and it works like there's some biological clock within me that likes the idea of me playing a part in this stupid process of becoming the odd-one-out. I can't help it either because this process thing, it's kind of like a wake-up call telling me that it's time to wake up and clean your face so you can see that you're not really in the crowd, you're just in the room with the crowd. It gives me a hard, cold reminder that i don't have to keep trying to get or become something that i'm not and will never be able to be. I will never really be a part of something, not in a group of friends, not in a group of mutual liking people, not even in my own family, but you know, it's me, not them. It has always been just me. I wish if like um, by blaming me, the world could become a little, just a little more sane and peaceful and happy. So this is me for the night. God i'm so happy that nobody other than me actually reads this because i'd be really, really messed up if someone else finds out so much about what's going on in my head right now. #perksofbeingafriendlessandunpopularloser. Peace.
I'm also tired of being the one who always turns into the odd-one-out. For me, things have always been like this. First hour, i'm into socializing and talking and making jokes about things that aren't really funny and just trying to do things that hold people together. Second hour, i talk and i nod and i watch things play out from the passenger seat. Third hour, i stop talking and i lose interest in everything and i wander into the darkness and see how everything is from an even further distance. Fourth hour, i start hating on things and i curse at anyone who attempts a conversation and i throw shitty looks at everyone and ruin everybody's damn day. When do i turn into the odd-one-out? At the end of the second hour. It's because only when i'm seeing things from the sidelines, i see how i've never really fitted in with everything. I turn around and i see people, friends, family, chatting and laughing and having the time of their lives while i'm just there. It's like i'm always just there, after the second hour that is.
So, this is like a uh, a process with actual steps that i go through everyday of my life. It always happens automatically. I don't have to set a timer or reminder and it works like there's some biological clock within me that likes the idea of me playing a part in this stupid process of becoming the odd-one-out. I can't help it either because this process thing, it's kind of like a wake-up call telling me that it's time to wake up and clean your face so you can see that you're not really in the crowd, you're just in the room with the crowd. It gives me a hard, cold reminder that i don't have to keep trying to get or become something that i'm not and will never be able to be. I will never really be a part of something, not in a group of friends, not in a group of mutual liking people, not even in my own family, but you know, it's me, not them. It has always been just me. I wish if like um, by blaming me, the world could become a little, just a little more sane and peaceful and happy. So this is me for the night. God i'm so happy that nobody other than me actually reads this because i'd be really, really messed up if someone else finds out so much about what's going on in my head right now. #perksofbeingafriendlessandunpopularloser. Peace.
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