Gauging

I can't quite fathom why you'd accept a certain responsibility and then complain afterwards. Just what the hell is that? I mean, seriously, at least have the mind to gauge what your capabilities are. Weigh the chances, the results, the problems that will arise. I don't think there's anything wrong in telling you can't do it. There's nothing wrong in designating a task to other people. Just don't accept something and then complain.

Bane

No, no, this isn't Batman-related entry.

Actually, what I'm about to say is that . . . someone IS the bane of my existence. If it's just as easy to get rid of her without too much mess, I'd have done it the first time. Looks like I really got in a bad set of . . . humans. I kinda regret the fact now that I've gotten on the bad side of former acquaintances. Hmm.

Back

So yeah, I'm back on FB. Not entirely back on track, but at least partly "alive" and "missed" as what my friends deem. Apparently, I missed a lot of stuff in only a few days of absence, then again, I've been also able to moon over things that I haven't been able to because of---yes, you guessed right---my busy sched/work.

I don't want to blame my job for making me unable to work on my costume/s and taking care of other tasks assigned to me for some future events. It's like, I can't seem to work due to a different kind of fatigue. Physical pain, I can handle. But mental and emotional stress? That's different story. It makes me incapacitated.

But through all these, I must remain optimistic. It's just difficult to deal with /things/ when you don't have the right crowd, you don't have the right people on your side, and you constantly have to battle with your inner self about nonsensical stuff.

"When you hope, be joyful. When you suffer, be patient. When you pray, be faithful." - What my good friend, Zhel Guiral taught me. I must persevere; I must learn to lean on God. Let the burden be taken off my shoulders, leave everything in His hands, and renew my relationship with Him.

Go Figure

Oh, did I say I have three accounts? One semi-private, one public, one mainly for cosplay. Go figure. Or if your main means for contacting people is through FB, go find the other account. Mushishishishi.

If you want to really keep in touch with me, though, you're free to text me, email me, or IM me. Or comment here, or something. LOL.

Deactivate

Okay, so I'm probably rambling here, which is a good thing, IMO, since this is my blog, and I'm free to do whatever I want in it. It's not like people bother to read this anyway. It's meant to be public, but apparently, since only few people stumble across this rather boring online diary, I can still rant all I want. (insert smiley face here)

So yesterday, I deactivated my FB account again, and without telling anyone. Same stunt as last time, yeah, but I did mention my intention to commit the crime to somebody a few days back. Same action, different reason.

First time was because I just wanted to have a space (and basically lot of space, I did get since I deliberately cut off any kind of communication to my 'friends'), but this time, it's simply because I wanted to. What, am I not allowed to go away once in a while?

So maybe there is something wrong. If anyone bothers to, they're all laid out on separate blog entries prior to this one.

What's good, probably, in deactivating both your accounts is that when you die, all your information are wiped out. Nobody would know you've died.

Forgetting Your Birth

The first thing I plot when I get my new planner, or at least remember when it's that month of the year already, is MY birthday. It's something I look forward to the most, and I spend it wisely, happily, like it's the last day here on earth.

So, yeah.

What baffles me when I greeted someone during their birthday is the answer, "Oh, it's my birthday tomorrow? Shoot, I forgot; so busy lately. Thanks for reminding me." Or something along that line.

Seriously? Forgetting your birthday? And the tone of her reply seemed like it was just an ordinary day, like a photoshoot, or a cosplay event, or a dinner that you forgot to plot on your planner. Excuse me while I hit the bucket.

Haha, not to be rude or anything, but that's just messed up. It sounds pretty boastful or whacked. For me, at least. I mean, somehow you should know the date of the year it is already, since you're working as an assistant to a boss (who you say is rude, BTW). Aren't you supposed to keep track of what activities for the day would be? And if I may be allowed to say, forgetting your own birthday sounds a little ungrateful. In truth, I shouldn't be greeting you, but your mother. And if truth be told, YOU should be thanking your mom for giving birth to you. For all we know, she has the capability to not to give birth to you, 'specially if she's calloused. It's so easy to kill a helpless you inside her womb, you know? All it takes is a little pill or a pair of forceps and then you're gone in a snap. (Although, sadly, such a thing doesn't exist here, if you know what I mean.)

Bottomline, don't give me that shit oh-I-forgot-it's-my-birthday thing. It makes me sick. Oh, I mean, makes me want to strangle you to death. God, take a look at yourself, woman.

Old Ways

Sometimes, I miss writing the old way. I miss ranting the old way. I miss blogging the old way. It was just a few years back, before I started college, when I was still mad at the world, about everything that went wrong. I could hold my ground and not be shaken; stay firm with my decisions and come up with the most sensible solutions to my dilemmas.

But then, there's this thing we call 'change'. It's not pretty.

I grew weak. I became foolish. I was easily swayed, and everything that I promised I won't turn as slapped me in the face. Hard. 

Some people who know me personally can testify how I always look enraged, almost always ready to begin a fight, how easily my brows furrow in anger, how I can spit profanities (which I still do now, mind you) and shoot them straight through one's brain. But all of those are gone now. Today, I am indecisive, a pawn always following orders, unable to think for her own.

Just because you can....

…doesn't mean you should.

I'd been interviewed once at a particular site by my good friend, Katz del Rosario. From what I can remember, I left an advice about cosplay for those who are only starting, and what I said went something like, "Never underestimate cosplay; it's arts, math, and science mixed into one." Well, it's true, at least the way I see it. Making one costume is only 1/3 of the whole of cosplay. The other 2/3 is composed of characterization and attitude. Even after some years of cosplay, I can't say I have all that every time I don on the costume and relate with other people.

Apparently, I'm digressing.

My point really, for writing this entry is to let go of all the bitterness I have for knowing somebody I know who cosplay out of whim, but basically say, "Oh GOD, I LOVE THIS CHARACTER!" all the fucking time. Out of curiosity, maybe, but I'd like to think of it as some sort of a plot to get attention (wanted, expected, or unwelcome; whatever, really, IDC); a way to "compete". Come on. At least choose a character that suits you, jeez. And by golly, I'm not even doing it for popularity! I just want to get shots of costumes I've crammed and made with love and hate; cursed and praised! And of course, to show genuine love for the character.

(I should make this my mantra every time I go choose a character to cosplay: "Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.)

If I have no respect for the hobby, if I have no respect for myself, or I have no ounce of decency in my system, I'd have cosplayed those amazing characters I've been fond of for the longest time, like Kurapika from HxH, Sailor Jupiter from Sailormoon, Aerith from FF7, or even Princess Garnet til Alexandros VIII from FF9, Kuja (from the same game), Boa Hancock from One Piece. (The last one been terribly tempted to cosplay as, but shit, I HAVE NO IDEA WHO SHE IS, SO I CAN'T. Not counting the reason that I can't because I'm not boobylicious or I have no flat stomach. Bleh.)

Okay, okay, okay. I'll stop after I say the last thing I have in mind in relation to this entry:

FUCK I WANT TO COSPLAY RANKA LEE BUT I CAN'T, AND THEREFORE, WON'T.

TL;DR

Blatant Lie

So last time, I know I said I'd believe. But somehow, something tells me it's futile. I can't bring myself to believe someone who's so apt in weaving lies that whatever he/she says seems like the truth. For all I know, I've been played for a fool. Being spun in web of deceit, I let myself be lost in it with only one path of escape.

I've given it some thought, tested the waters, and unfortunately went in too deep. It was some mistake on my part; I have been deceived. I find it difficult to trust another when I've been blatantly, face-first, hit with a betrayal.

But yeah, maybe I'll go find someone else worthy to put my trust on.

Time is Ticking

05.21.2012

I can't remember the last time I wrote (or typed) down my thoughts. I'd been preoccupied by too many things, but when I try to enumerate them, they simply boil down to one source.

So I said I should be contented with what I have at the present. Be thankful for the friendship that is probably given to select people, and not ask for more. Even in the past, I kept reminding myself to be careful, not to look too deep into things, completely assess the scenario before plunging in and wreck myself in the process.

But at times, it's just impossible. "The more I look, the more I see. The more I see, the more I understand. The more I understand, the more I wallow. The more I wallow, the more I drown."

***

06.04.2012

"Sexy" can be interpreted in so many ways, mostly on a sexual connotation (duh). It does not, however, merely apply to one showing body parts not usually flaunted in public. It could mean one is holding herself with full confidence, it's eye-catching. Or that, one is gracious and irresistibly attractive at the same time. 

Call me envious; call me anything you like: a conservative little git who is jealous of people who can show off boobs and not care a thing. I probably am; because I'd been brought up bound by strict rules, with values and beliefs, principles that I believe I can follow not because merely of the moral implications upon deviating from them, but because they are what I believe is righteous.

I'm not saying that whatever is in here is absolute; I suppose I'm just the type of person who values respect and honesty so much that I can't stand people who seem to have no regard of their own and others' welfare. And this may be a different kind of projection of concern; the tone may be angry, even wrathful, to some extent.

Probably too cautious, too confined, too conservative, too old-fashioned, too obedient, too tense, I am acting self-righteous myself. But here's what I ask:  If you have no respect for the body that the Lord has granted you with as a temple of Life, would you expect others to respect you the way you are? And you say you're not easy. Don't make me laugh.

Someday, I'll find the courage to tell this to you straight in the face.

***

06.04.2012

We go way back. First time you scarred me was a long time ago; ti's supposed to be buried and must not be unearthed, but I'm being reminded of it each time we get together.

For someone like you to tell me--command me--that I change into something I'm not, just because I'm meek and not as loud as you, is something I can't forgive. Neither forget. I keep thinking of reasons as to why I'm still sticking with you when you have ruined my pride, and I suppose it's not for the 'noble' reason that I wanted to change you for the better, because that would be the same as what you've done to me. It is for the reason that I have not forgiven you at all, and that I must let you realize the damage you have inflicted on my pride, on my ego. 

I can't count the number of times you've ruined me, and that meant double the effort of putting myself back together. I don't need your pity. I don't need you to tell me what to do. I don't need you for me to depend on, as I have other people with me whom I know deserve my trust more that you.

You probably have a good intention in doing all those, but the catch was to change me. Well I think you've done a very good job, woman. I am changing for the worst, and I know that. The path to ruin was opened up by you and you led me there knowing i'd take it and traverse without hesitation. I trusted you, but you broke that, and I'm well aware of that now.

So don't be surprised if I doubt you more than I trust you. Slowly, I'll let you feel destruction. I pity you because between the two of us, you're the one who's in more need of help, not me. I was fine before you came along. I built friendships and trust. And by your cruel intentions, you've ruined that.

***

TL;DR

Another Story

Because they Believed.

04.15.2012 

Most of my "theories" were proven wrong. 

During the time of my isolation, I had been made to realize that indeed, I am not alone. When I chose to untangle myself from the crowd, the experience was grueling. But yesterday, the people I associate myself with did point out stuff for me to know and made me feel better than last.

That they allowed me to "breathe" for a while. Gave me space while I reflect on things. That while I was moping around, sulking, thinking some useless stuff over and over, searching for answers to my questions . . . they were worrying about me.

When i believed no one will contact me, they were frantic in keeping in touch with me, desperate for signs of "life", of any activity.

While I simply let myself believe that they have totally forgotten about me, they were there, just waiting for me to come back.

When I chose to vanish all of a sudden, they were alarmed by my absence and that put them on the edge. They had all sorts of ideas running through their heads  and it made them uneasy.

When I was at the brink of my "soul-searching", I hung onto happy memories, clung on impossible thoughts, vivid imaginations . . . I was at my limit. And then finally, one day, out of sheer boredom perhaps, probably a tinge of "readiness", or simply a whim, I publicly blogged about some insights that ate me. While I was sure nobody even bothers to read that open diary of my mind, the devastating condition of my heart and soul that lay bare, there it was, a reply form one of the precious people who waited for me.

It was then when it struck me: I hid inside my shell for so long (despite it being barely two weeks), barred myself with a wall I built, made impenetrable by anyone--even myself. While I do not regret doing such a step, and had been reminded that I do not need to apologize or explain because it had been my choice, somehow, I felt sad for myself. I  was pitiful. 

So now I stand, trying to mend the wounded parts, putting together broken pieces, and making myself whole again. Though not as complete as before, with parts still chipping away even as I carefully take each step, I must persevere, be faithful, listen, and most of all, BELIEVE.

Calendar of Confessions

What I had been up to, what I went through, what I plunged into.

04.01.2012

Last night, I opted to deactivate my Facebook accounts. Initially, I thought on leaving a little something for people to ponder about. In fact, I’ve made two stanzas of a poem, which is intended to leave clues as to where I’d gone, but eventually, I decided to do otherwise. I left my usual comments, the banter, the praises, the rants, anything noisy to let them know that I was still there, alive, probably frustrated that I can’t attend the con, fussing over how my costume didn’t make it in time, and the list goes one. Then, before the clock struck twelve, I left my main account, followed by the support account.

What’s funny and surprising though, was that someone PM’d me just before I was about to shut down the support/public account, asking me if I’ll be able to attend the convention today. That caught me off guard as I planned to vanish without a trace, without anybody knowing. In the end, I told her of my plan, and her reply was nothing I ever imagined.

This girl, whom I’ve only met once, turns out to be a kind of salvation for me. The Lord has His ways of letting me know that I am not alone, I said to her, and in return, what she said was, “I feel like I’ll never see you again.” For some reason, I wanted to laugh because that feeling is what I wanted to elicit from others, and then here comes a person who felt exactly that when I haven’t even left!

I feel that she is a genuine, sincere person. Given the chance, I’d want to learn more about her, to befriend her, to be a part of her life as a friend. Once I get back in the cycle of things, I’d do that on top of other things.

The purpose of leaving the site without saying goodbye is for me to know who really care about me. For me to know who notices my absence and worry about me. For me to know who goes through all lengths to find out what had become of me. For me to know who will come looking for me.

It is probably a selfish act, as I’ve come to contemplate on my actions. And I’ve yet to come to a conclusion as to what is more hurtful: vanishing without saying goodbye, or saying goodbye as one is about to leave. In my defense, I can always say I need some time to thing about things, and Facebook is just a hindrance, or a distraction for me to reflect on some instances that need some more deep-thinking. But that’s just me rationalizing on that step. And rationalization does not always bid well.

If I think about it more carefully, I didn’t have to pull on that prima donna act to gather attention. Not that I’m asking for one, but that’s probably one of the end results of my rash act. That’s just asking for more trouble than actually fixing what needed to be fixed. It’s like an insult to those who are willing to help, because my going away without telling anyone is just distancing myself more. It’s not helping one bit if I want others to listen to what is bothering me. Apparently.

04.03.2012

My thoughts aren’t as organized as I expected them to be. I have a resolve to forget him, to give myself a deadline on this thing called ‘complicated feelings’ that I chose to complicate myself. But on my second day of contemplation, I realized that maybe, what I’ve been doing is right. I came across a status of one of my workmates/seniors and what it said helped in strengthening my resolve: “Sometimes we have to go away just for a while for others to realize how valuable we really are.” It was my initial purpose for temporarily leaving the site, cutting off contact from everyone else, except for my closest friends, and it merely confirmed what I had intended all along.

04.07.2012

It’s a tedious process; six days of absence and on-and-off, I’ve been thinking who are worried about me, or there are even those who care at all. I may be mistaken; that there may be no one who is actually alarmed by my silence, that they may be too busy to care, that they may be exhausted in waiting for news. I’d dearly pay for my rash act one day, and I won’t be surprised at all if she ends up with him by the time I came back, or that people have grown more distant from me.

Waking moments are the most difficult as there is fear, anxiety that threaten to wreck my solid determination that I am almost tempted to let them know what, “Hey, I’m here! I’m waiting for you! I’ve gone away, but you have to ask me why!” But I must not falter, must stay on my ground because if and when I make the first move, I know I’m on the losing end. This may be my pride talking and being in-control of my thoughts and action, and it’s both good and bad. Though probably more on the ‘bad’.

I hope one day, I get to the bottom of things, fix what needed to be fixed, say the words needed to correctly convey the message, and let the feelings speak for themselves.

04.09.2012

Today, I have been struck with an insight the moment I woke up: a particular person causes me to be insecure of myself and she sometimes intimidate me by her presence. I’ve racked my brains for answers to such mysteries, to no avail. It took me 9 days of absence, and still, I can’t come up with a decent result. I shared the said dilemma to my close friend, and her words blew me away, and I can’t be more thankful with the words she imparted with me: “You can start moving from those facts… We can’t choose the innate personalities we possess, but we can surely hone and develop our character. It’s the balancing factor. I have always been told before, ‘strong characters conquer strong personalities’.”

With the way I acted, though, I can’t be sure it can fall under the category “strong character”, because it felt like what I did was just me escaping, running away from my problems. I wonder, now, what people think of me once I come back. Will they ask me where I’ve gone, say they’re worried out of their wits, and thought something’s happened to me that I can’t contact them at all? Or will they just ignore me and stay more distant? Or will it eventually boil down to nothingness, into vain, everything futile, useless, regrettable? In the end, I’m probably the real coward, hiding behind the pride that I believed would protect me in times of crisis. How I wish I can start anew. Start all over. Mend broken friendships and learn to decipher who are true and not. . .