invano

the last note: jump into puddles.

dear invano,

i won't be able to talk to you for some time. i know i haven't been myself for more than a year already. that i haven't been exactly the storyteller you knew back then. but someday, i might be back. so wait, will you? i'm just learning the world again. and i'm working on my vocab.

today, i'll tell you about today. the day before tomorrow.

i woke up ten in the morning to mc's calls, saying it's early lunch and mom's prepared beef stroganoff. if it was another day and another sun (or another lack of it since it's been raining nonstop for days now), i'd probably be pretending that i didn't hear and that i'm still in deep sleep, trying to patch a sane-gone-insane dream . but today, i wasn't up to the drama nor was i suffering from "i still have sand in my eyes and you expect me to eat?" problem; i had, however, just the appetite for lunch. i smiled, jumped off bed, washed my hands, and took a seat. i did not wash my face, or combed my hair, or gargled. i was hungry. and they didn't really mind my missing out on social graces and proper hygiene.

i turned on the computer after brunch. checked mail. checked tdp. checked download progress. that sequence pretty much summarizes the whole of today. nothing much really happened. oh, geowi allowed me to use his psp for an hour (i think). and we got the chocolates dadi sent.

it might be interesting for you to know that i haven't brushed my teeth all day. and that i only got to take a bath fifteen minutes before i started writing this (which was at 10pm something). and yes, i'm not ashamed (just a bit disgusted, now that i think of it) to say it here. i'm happier today. and i'll be crying tomorrow.

so why all these? well, one, i've got nothing much to say other than what i've already said. two, i want to let you know that this is my goodbye-for-now. three, i missed you bigtime, and i'll be missing you for what would feel like an eternity with me lost in space. and four, i had a different plan for today: i thought of sitting down with poops in the afternoon, laughing with everybody the whole day, and just being here for today. but it's been raining. and it's been different. and i've been a little displaced.

lousy.

oh, i had my hair cut yesterday. you know my story about haircuts, right? yeah, aja!

i learned of a new song today. it's icelandic. impressive, eh? it's "hoppipolla" which means "jumping into puddles." just the thing i need to hear today. jump into puddles. i'll do just that. are you listening? i'd do just that.

well, i'd end here. since i haven't been making much sense. see you soon, ok? don't you forget about me. love you (haven't learned the icelandic for this yet). i'd be back with great, horrifying, crazy, romantic (maybe) stories for you. just for you.

<3 lots,
val

the same thing happens elsewhere.

i live elsewhere. 

val's gangrene.

today is may 1, labor day. no-work day today, but i'm making strawberry jams. that's top secret between me and my friends. us and our strawberry jams. XD

i have andrew lloyd webber's "the music of the night" david-cook-version playing for days now, and one night (or one super early morn), i got lyrically hit --- i am fond of having lyrics for shout outs or for ym; love the poetry and igo-sa-tagihipusuon feel they have on me, but they never got me thinking-thinking, if you know what i mean. but this particular song by lord andrew did it (he has this weird air about him. he looks like...the grinch). please, join me in singing.

night time sharpens
heightens each sensation
darkness stirs and
wakes imagination
silently the senses
abandon their defenses

O_o

slowly, gently
night unfurls its splendor
grasp it, sense it
tremulous and tender

O_O

is it me or did that just seem like a double entendre? i'm not trying to be dirty-minded here. i was plain wondering. XD well, lord andrew tells david cook that this song is probably the most sensual, the sexiest song he's ever written. so maybe it has some other dark meaning to it, eh? lol.

floating, falling
sweet intoxication
touch me, trust me
savor each sensation
let the dream begin
let your darker side give in
to the power of
the music that i write
the power of
the music of the night

o_O

music = XXXXX? i think, he meant it to sound so haunting. the music of the night definitely shook my senses.

val's gone green. oh.

i hated love stories. now, i seem to hate love songs too.

think of me
think of me fondly
when we've said
goodbye

remember me
once in a while
please promise me
you'll try

when you find that once again you long
to take your heart back and be free
if you ever find a moment
spare a thought for me

we never said our love was evergreen
or as unchanging as the sea
but if you can still remember
stop and think of me

think of all the things
we've shared and seen
don't think about the things
which might have been

think of me
think of me waking
silent and
resigned

imagine me
trying too hard
to put you
from my mind

recall those days
look back on all those times
think of the things we'll never do
there will never be a day
when i won't think of you.

99 green balloons.

1. i call myself a method actor.
2. i had my room painted green.
3. i like to walk. i change places every 30 minutes. i'm a nomad.
4. i'm addicted to books, and my mom doubts my choice of read.
5. i look like jolens daw. but i'm, say half a foot, taller.
6. i'm a fulltime babysitter.
7. i have oc tendencies. like for example, i always have the "my recent documents" cleared after i use the computer. i like it [empty].
8. i wanted to become a nun when i was in grade 1 or 2.
9. i used to make caricatures of my highschool teachers.
10. i used to go on monkey bars.
11. i am very shy.
12. my first celebrity crush was vic sotto.
13. there wasn't a schoolyear where my name didn't get murdered: misspelled or mispronounced or both.
14. my middle name has only two letters in it.
15. i have only one name and thousands of middles.
16. i've been wearing braces for almost 9 years now.
17. i sing while washing the dishes and taking a bath.
18. i like brownouts. i like the peace.
19. my college notes are written in pencil. there's one way to get back at me if you hate me.
20. i type really fast, but talk real slow or real less.
21. i'm fond of dots.
22. i'm a big cold-food/drink addict: ice cream, shaved ice, halo-halo, ice pops, shakes, etcetera. my teeth don't have issues about them.
23. i plan to get an ice cream maker like that of mcdonald's or dairy queen's or better yet, an ice cream truck. i share the same fantasies with rupert grint.
24. it is very easy to please me on a date. chu chu bars will do.
25. athazagoraphobia - being forgotten, being ignored, or forgetting. i fear that there might come a time when people would no longer remember me or that i may no longer remember people. either by accident, something that causes amnesia, or by aging.
26. glossophobia - speaking in public or trying to speak. i get butterflies or rhinoes messing up my belly every time i'd have to speak before a crowd. i'm afraid of microphones, stages and podiums.
27. scoptophobia - blindness in visual field. i've tried imagining getting blind once, and i did not like it one bit. is akin to death.
28. i exaggerate a lot. funny thing is, people don't misunderstand my words or actions no matter how exaggerated they sound or look already. but when i try to tell it straight, it is when i'd usually sound wrong to them.
29. i cry a lot. a friend once said that i could win the oscar's with just my tears. i've cried before a crowd thrice in college. first time was when our speech prof made me answer a "what if" question that i didn't like.
30. i cry when john lloyd cries.
31. i cannot play a musical instrument. but i can whistle and carry a tune.
32. i cannot multitask. i am that slow, but if i put my heart into that one thing that i'm doing, expect to be amazed. i may be slow, but my craft is one-in-a-million.
33. i cannot speak other languages. but i can understand some, just by taking note of facial expressions and gestures. able to finish a korean series and an american movie dubbed in french, without subs.
34. i love the smell of books.
35. i sniff food.
36. i have a very sensitive nose like go eun chan.
37. four people have told me that i've got pretty kissable lips. three of them were girls.
38. they said they, my lips, were barbie-like. i wonder if barbie ever had chapped lips.
39. my first kiss wouldn't count as a kiss. so, i have never been kissed.
40. i associate getting a haircut with changing.
41. i have had four haircuts in a year. that means that i haven't changed that much that year.
42. i crave for a shorter do. so short, you'd think i was a boy.
43. i have been called humanitarian by a friend once or twice, when all i ever did was offer her help with erasing the mistakes in her notes. that's the abraham lincoln (february 12, 1809) in me.
44. i am an aquarian. i can have extreme moods one after the other. i have been dubbed weird. that's the charles darwin (february 12, 1809) in me.
45. i like calling myself a thespian, when the only stage experience i've had was playing twentieth-century juliet and that funny redhead in grease. one-hit wonder-ish. that's the christina ricci (february 12, 1980) in me.
46. "sir change" has been around since the very first tdp.
47. i was tambay of the arts and lit section before. these days, random rants and raves na lang.
48. i received my first tdp warning for something that i didn't even do. thanks to sir chocster.
49. i had another account in the old tdp. he never posted a thing.
50. the first thread i ever created was about nikki gil's coca-cola ad. it was deleted after some time.
51. my first tdp crush was sir dudester.
52. i go "bababa" when i yawn.
53. my sneezes are mute.
54. i have a very throaty voice.
55. christopher plummer singing "edelweiss" can send me lost to never neverland.
56. alejandro sanz singing "una noche" can send me lost to never neverland.
57. jay chou singing his songs can send me lost to never neverland.
58. some eighteen years ago, i was "vilma bantot", while my sister was "sharon kubeta."
59. some eighteen years ago, i spelled my name with an "i" instead of the double "e".
60. some eighteen years ago, i was a daddy's girl.
61. if it's fever, please don't touch me. the slightest of touch hurts already. i'm that sensitive when i'm burning.
62. if it's the worst case of flu, please don't talk to me. my ears seem to take in ultrasonic vibes too. normal talk hurts me already.
63. if it's tummy ache, please send me home or call my mom. she alone can soothe me.
64. i have this speaking deficiency wherein i unconsciously swap the first and last letters of the second syllable of a word. "ma, ano inmon ko nga bulong?" becomes "ma, ano inmon ko nga bungol?"
65. i easily forget rooms. that was why on exam days i made sure that i was an hour early so i could check the exam schedule posted on the engineering bulletin. why an hour?
66. because as much as i forget room assignments, i also forget where they stand in the university. even the most walked-around places slipped my memory. an hour is the safest estimate.
67. i cannot take a bath with the shower curtain closed.
68. i keep copies of notes and letters that weren't for me.
69. i like mirrors.
70. early gradeschool, i was termed maldita. they said i'd have kids line up and as one came forward, i'd tell if he or she was a friend or not. i don't remember doing this however.
71. middle gradeschool up to end of highschool, i was among the mumoys: smart, unpopular, easy to bully.
72. but i got to be president of the class in my freshmen year, and was called kj for being too darned serious about the job. i was never elected for president again.
73. college came and i got to be called pinasahi or rare.
74. i don't like stepping on lines.
75. tile patterns interest me. i go "ding" when i reach centers.
76. i sometimes count my steps.
77. i am a neat freak. a friend once caught me arranging cotton tips.
78. i broke a nasal bone when i was three years old.
79. i have a scar at my right hip. a big dog bit me before.
80. i have peeled my skin along with the santol fruit.
81. i like working alone. if with others, i become really quiet, so much that they won't like having me around.
82. it is difficult to make me laugh.
83. it is very easy to make me think.
84. i don't like hospitals. they have this smell i never learned to like.
85. i don't like receiving phone calls.
86. i don't like people staring while i eat.
87. i don't like elevators. i think they make me sick more than hospitals.
88. i can't solve the rubik's cube, or i haven't tried harder.
89. i like to observe people, especially kids.
90. i like girls.
91. i like to watch girls dance.
92. i think i might go lesbo. joke.
93. march 30, 2008, i caught chickenpox.
94. first blister appeared during the baccalaureate mass.
95. i graduated that night.
96. i adore male ballet dancers.
97. i can listen to one song for weeks.

98. i can't do arithmetic.

99. i am single.

 

invano, belated happy birthday.
you're three years old.

i surrender, witch of sleep. i surrender.

for four nights, i slept around three in the morning. if i'm lucky, i'd wake up just in time for lunch; if not, i'd miss lunch. my mom isn't such a fan of missed lunches.

getting up is like being given a bunch of flowers. you'd feel good then comes the string of hatchoos, and you'd realize you're allergic to them. worst case is waking up due to the smell of burnt grass.

a full eight-hour sleep isn't supposed to make you go dizzy, right? i'm not oversleeping, but my head seems heavier than a watermelon. doctors actually recommend eight hours a night, and i copy.

but again, i'm not exactly sleeping at night, am i?

wiki tells me that i might have a messed up suprachiasmatic nucleus which messed up my circadian rhythm or biological clock. wiki's not helping much, if you ask me.

i say, the witch of sleep is enjoying this little game she plays. torture overthinking hag. pbbt. please stop it. i beg of you. this has to stop.

i don't think i'd actually look like her after two weeks.

it's 9:12 pm here, and i'm trying to make it before 12:01, which is tomorrow, april 1st. i won't be around for the coming weeks, one or two maybe, and i also wanted to make some sort of recount of yesterday. i've so much to say, and brag about, but again, i'm running low on expression. hopefully, by the last of this page you're reading, if you are reading that is, i'd be able to turn things around, and do some justice. tall order, but i'll try.

on skirts and high heels. i graduated last night. there. and baccalaureate mass required all ladies to be in their uniforms, the alternative announced on our freshmen year, the one that spelled out no-way-jose for some, especially me: the pencil skirts. it's not that i haven't worn skirts; not this somewhat tight about the hips down, that is.

and what else would complete the look of torture? right. high heels. they weren't required but i thought they would look better than flats. fine. i got a little vain and wanted to look good, and because of that i yap and stay put. that ain't a crime (exaggerated but isn't this my blog?). my electronics professor didn't fail to notice my lack of "experience" on this matter; therefore, i didn't miss the remark she made: gabaka.

but that was yesterday. my toes are, as nurses and doctors would use ever diligently, recuperating.

on pieces of masters. our yearbooks were distributed during the mass, and i'm proud to say that not all schools can do that.

the thrill of flipping through the yummy-smelling pages in search of some of the paets that made my college life a bit normal. lol. there was piglet, pink, chax, smile, ngirit, director, coliboy and viaje. but i'd also like to mention the others who appeared on someone else's yearbook (like my sister's), others who didn't make it, others who still have to come out alive after five years, others who aren't in school anymore: langlang, semicon, ramon, shaggy, red, jazz, and langaw. i'd shush about my professor crushes.

to the lucky ones, it was fun. to the luckier one, wait.

on beautifying. my mom made arrangements with a beautician named ting to do the supposed "magic" (not that i didn't have it. enhancement). i never go on parlor appointments without company for moral support. but it's graduation day, and yes, it naturally meant doing a little of growing up here and there. so i sat there, alone, quite paranoid about the things ting were applying on my face, quite distressed about having to walk in with whatever's done, and quite suffering with my lenses on while eye makeup was being applied. but that isn't just it. by the time she was finished with me, she whispered into my ear and said the forbidden phrase: daw si jolina ka, day. i was silently protesting. and by the time i was waiting for the rest of my classmates to come, a bunch of i-think-thirteen-year olds and younger had the same thing going on inside their heads. jolina's lucky. way lucky.

i'd like to thank tita nel for my dress (and ck for the design XD).

on marching onwards. graduation came. and i'm speechless, plus my shoes were killing my feet. five years. five. i survived. and i have achieved a great deal.

i don't know if my parents noticed a change in me. i'm not sure if they've seen me grow up and conquer some fears. i don't know if my dad knows that he inspired the whole thing, my taking up engineering. i don't know if he knows that he will continue to inspire me in the coming battles of this profession. i don't know if my mom knows that she's made college meaningful like no other for me, just by supporting my "mom, can i not study for now?" days and by laughing when i tell her about how school went. i don't know if she knows that others like her too.

i don't know if my siblings noticed a changed in me. i'm not sure if they've seen me grow up and conquer some fears. i don't know if they're done thinking that i'm such a bossy terrorist (sometimes maybe).

i don't know if my professors noticed a change in me. i'm not sure if they've seen me grow up and conquer some fears. i don't know if they've been attentive about my courtship rituals to mathematics. i don't know if they've seen the fighting spirit. but i had all that. plus headache, blog entries where i call them dementors in disguise, and depression befriending me.

i don't know if my classmates have noticed a change in me. i'm not sure if they've seen me grow up and conquer some fears. i don't know if they know the fact that i'm most comfortable speaking in front of them, that i have somehow pooped out the butterflies in my stomach, that i didn't pace the floor anymore while they attacked my belly during a class recitation like they did on the second day of college, that i have learned to speak my mind, to let a tear or two fall (liar!), to make them smile. i don't know if it crossed their minds that some of us would actually miss the "happy birthday song" class A version. it has been all that. plus a little of goofing around, cutting classes, coming late, and cheating.

but i have changed, mind you.

engineering is definitely the coolest course. take that from the traditional "mayhem" we create during graduation night. but it would have been better had the lights go out for a minute or two. no regrets here. astig. congratulations, batchmates.

on the extraordinary (edited, 'wicked' doesn't sound too good) gift the Lord has airmailed some ten or twenty-one days ago. i contracted chicken pox. symptoms were up as early as the baccalaureate mass. and on this hot summer night, as i try to do some justice, i am  wearing pajamas and a sweater. and the red, itchy dots all over my body, the chills and fever visits, and the sore throat suggest home arrest. but i'm okay. it's the Lord's way of saying, "you need and want this before review." i definitely agree. praise be to God. my younger sister is saying that perhaps i am the happiest being with the virus. and she adds that i'm a bit insane. true. what a way to end college and start another journey.

 

it's been sentimotional, and there's no i'm-out-of-adjectives-here word to end it. sentimotional. and sick.

tomorrow, i might eat breakfast.

I’ve been putting off blogging for weeks now. It’s not just the excess of inactivity. Nor is it just the rhythm monotony suggests. It has nothing to do with the book I’m trying to finish either. I’m thinking that it must be this void that I’m trying to name. It’s overwhelming beyond measure. And it’s working like some sort of sleeping draft on me. Like I’ve been unknowingly ingesting it for years, and I just learned of it today, or yesterday for that matter. Alas, have I been sleeping for hours on end while the rest of the world celebrates a birth or weeps for a death? I’m struck by sadness, the nostalgic kind, but I’m afraid that there is nothing much to recall. The memory is ebbing away. My existence is at bay and I know it.

 

My day starts at 9. Stretching as far as I can each time, my fingers then would hit the metal bars and my toes would feel the book that I left at page 234 the other night. I’d awake like a zombie. Walk like a zombie. Feel like a zombie. Am I a zombie? The bathroom mirror would tell me that I’m not. That’s settled then. I’m not.

I won’t eat breakfast. It’s a feat I cannot stomach. Maybe some other morning, when I’m not feeling so full, despite the fact that I’ve digested everything there is from last night’s dinner. Despite the fact that I am actually empty. I will eat breakfast some other morning.

My day progresses. This happens. That happens. Another set of this and that happens. I’d resume from the last task I embarked on. Cleaning my room. There are only two noticeable occasions wherein I get to dust my bookshelf and closets. One, heavy incessant rain floods the city; and two, my mother says so. But it didn’t rain today and my mother was extra kilometers, cities, away attending a wake. I just felt like getting rid of things. It feels stuffy lately. I need air.

 

I’ve mentioned how difficult it is to be me, especially when I’m trying to achieve something --- an effect, a look, or an acceptable mess. My room’s state was already messy. So I needed to work on a look that had an acceptable mess effect. I’d sit for minutes, staring blankly at the spot I want to change. Rearranging is a skill and a sickness I’ve inherited from my grandmother who moved her plants almost every weekend. My 3.5 x 1.5 feet bookshelf is done after an hour; my working space is done after an hour and a half. The rest of the room takes two hours.

 

My day ends with this. Or I’d fall asleep with the book I’m trying to finish for weeks now.

 

Come to think of it, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s my book depressing me after all.

 

See, I read books. But this time, a book read me.

 

~ Scattered thoughts from a girl who terribly, terribly misses the world. Calling it that, plus graduation.

outro.

5:45am.
woke up to take the trash out. went back to sleep after.

7:30am.
woke up to tell a classmate i won't be seen in school 'til 10:30. went back to sleep after.

9:45am.
woke up to take a bath.

10:15am.
left for school. accompanied by headache.

10:30am.
sat in class.

11:30am.
changed rooms.

12:45pm.
went home. still nagged by headache.

1:00pm.
prepared my lunch: ham and extra cheesy sandwich. cheese made my head heavier.

some time after.
made a list.

some time after.
went to sleep with my book.

some time after.
woke up to eat something.

some time after.
read some more of my book.

some time after.
had dinner. laughed a bit too.

9:15pm.
went online.

10:00pm.
started working on 117.

11:30pm.
nothing to blog about.

goodbye, february. 

the smell of her fingers.

i am sleepy. my legs feel numb from taking the stairs at least eight times today (that's from the ground floor to the fourth floor. i hate elevators). the palm of the my hands feel like sandpaper from all the dish washing. and my fingers smell like the marinade she uses for back ribs.

in short, i am like a 22-year old elvis.

and in all honesty, i really do not mind. someday, when i grow up, i would like my fingers to smell exactly like hers.

elvis, ommuni, i'm proud of you...and your fingers that smell like garlic and pepper and whatnots.

"mom" ---
it's just a sound really.
a hum interrupted by open lips. 
but there are a zillion words
in the planet,
and not one of them
comes out of your mouth
the way that one does.