STORY: Hello there, Header!

In continuation of my previous post, I also decided it was time to change my header! Yesterday, I changed the font of my entire blog so I felt the original header looked out of place.

Old Header

I redesigned my header with my current favorite font, Raleway and it ended up just the way I like it - clean, sleek and simple.

New Header

I played around with the "&" symbol (I forgot the name of that symbol) and ended up placing it in the two Os's from the words stories and theories. Isn't it cute that an X is formed by the "&" in both O's? Well, that was intentional and it turned out very nicely if you ask me. 

So, there. I better close my blog now 'cause I have a feeling I may start editing my background as well. Bye!

THEORY: Changing Taste

Its sad I don't have screen caps of my previous blog layouts. Its just that I updated the GIF icons on my blog's sidebar today and I noticed how my taste has changed. It would have been nice to see the evolution of my blog layout through screen caps. But I don't have it, so boohoo.

Image and video hosting by TinyPicImage and video hosting by TinyPicImage and video hosting by TinyPic
Since you are reading about it anyway, check out my new icons! :)

Anyway, I noticed how my blog has become more and more simple through the years. My previous layouts would have all these colors and images everywhere which I find really tacky now. I would put as many GIFs as I could before. Oy! Everything would be moving - the header, the footer, the sidebar, even the icons! Seriously, parang disco lang. Also, I would have my face plastered in every part of the blog. It was my face in the header, my eyes or lips sa footer. Golly, how vain was I? Thank God I realized how tacky that made my blog look. Now, I have minimal images in the layout, also very small font in gray. I want everything simple but still, I won't totally take away personality from the layout. I still have GIFs here and there and some cute images for my list titles. I want the layout to be simple not boring. So far, I like my layout. Besides the change in the GIF icons, I haven't redesigned my layout for over a year. That's saying something, I guess. What its saying I don't really know. 

Anyway, I think my current layout is pleasant to the eyes and it helps the readers (yes, may readers kasi ako e.) focus on my blog's content and not everything around it. My current layout has gone a long, long way from blog layouts of yesteryears. But even how 'baduy' I think my past blog layouts were, they spoke of who I was back then. So I don't regret making them that way. The same way I do not regret donning elephant jeans and baby tees. Teka, I take that back. I regret those days. Wait, I think I lost the point I was making. Haaaaay, I'll just end this post now. The End.

STORY: Brave Stupidity

I have been thinking of dying my hair a crazy color since freshman year. I even remember talking to Angie about it and calling dibs on blue. It was just something I feel would prove that I was young and free and stupid. Yes, that was the goal. You see I wasn't as wild and free and silly as I hoped to be. Observing my peers, I felt I was low on "just cause" goals in life. So, my answer to that was this - dying my hair a crazy color.

Of course, the years went by and so did a ton of excuses and I never did achieve this goal. It was always not the time to do it. And one day it just came to me that no time will ever be right. I could and will always find some reason to postpone my 'just cause' goal and waiting for the right time just negates the purpose of the goal - to be young, free and stupid. 

So one Saturday night, as I scrolled through instagram (it helped that I saw two photos of girls with blue/green hair.) while I lie alone in my bed in an empty house (I went out with Jana that afternoon and  when I got home, I found out the entire family left) I just got up and walked to the nearest salon. I didn't even give myself a minute to think about it. I just got up and walked... almost mindlessly. As I was walking to the salon, I felt so brave. I couldn't help smiling at the thought of what I was about to do. It was a great feeling - to just do something you wanted and not have the slightest urge to give reason to it. 

When I got to the salon and was asked what I wanted done, I said I wanted my hair colored. When asked what color and I responded with blue, the entire salon gave me a quick glance - almost all at the same time. The lady even asked the question again, thinking she heard it wrong. I just smirked and said, "Blue." She gave me the book with all the hair colors and I pointed out the blue I wanted.

But this brave task didn't come without challenges. I went to the salon at 8pm and after how many bleaching, washing and coloring, my hair pretty much looked the same. Sure the bleach made my hair turn this light blonde but the blue dye just wouldn't show. It was almost 11pm then, past the 10pm closing time of the salon, when the parloristas told me to come back tomorrow and we could try some other formula. I went home with my head down, a bit disappointed that my brave feat didn't end as exciting as I imagined.

The next day, as early as 8am, I kept waiting for the salon to open. Finally, as I saw their doors open at 9am, I ran down to the salon and had the parloristas continue their unfinished business with my hair. I wasn't expecting my hair to turn out as blue as I wanted. I sensed that they couldn't figure out how to get it done - since they never had a crazy request like this before. With that slight loss of hope, I told them I was going to be happy with any bright color. Violet, maybe. Whatever. I just wanted to get a little for the amount I paid. It didn't matter if I don't get what I want since I felt the effort I had them exert was worth more than I paid for.

Anyway, after an hour on the salon chair, I finally saw a ray of light. When they took off the stuff from my hair, I saw green! Bright, bright green! The other customers all looked at me with wide eyes thinking the parloristas made a big mistake. But when I started laughing at how silly my hair looked (it looked like vegetables!) everyone else started laughing as well. I just stared at myself and burst into laughter every 5 seconds. After they got the entire bottom of my hair green, they added in the streaks of blue. After a few more minutes, they washed my hair and blow dried it and next thing I knew, I had finally crossed out dying my hair a crazy color off my imaginary bucket list.

I tied my hair as high as I could and walked back home. I flaunted my hair to everyone that day and couldn't be happier every time I get a shocked reaction. Finally, I did something young. I did something free. I did something stupid.

Good job, Andrea. You have finally stamped stupid on you. 
You must be so proud.

Actually, I am. I am very proud! Because now that I finally did it, it was more of being brave than it was being stupid. It was of more of doing something others live their entire lives just thinking of doing. It wasn't as stupid as it was a brave thing. So yeah, I'm proud. I'm proud I did something brave. Hoorah!

STORY: Closed Eyes

I know you won't be reading this so I'm safe. 

I'm thinking of unfollowing you. Yes, you. But before you go crazy mad, ask yourself why we are even following each other in the first place. Its not like we need to be updated about each other's lives any more than we already are. Its just too much information for me, I guess. And you know what I do with too much information... I digest it, I analyze it, I over think it. And you don't want me to over think things, do you?

But I'm also afraid. I'm afraid that shutting this avenue out and blocking this information will keep me over thinking still, maybe even more! I'm afraid the not knowing will kill me. But I guess that's more tolerable. That way, I can convince myself to think that all of it is just me. I could find comfort in the possibility that this stuff is made up.  

I guess seeing things that lead me to think about other things is something I can't handle. Maybe closing my eyes and looking the other way is best. I'm just going to have to trust you... again. And I'm praying with all my heart that this isn't another mistake waiting to happen.

STORY: Good Day

This day was a mix of a lot of emotions and surprisingly, despite the presence of extreme confusion, the satisfaction and the brief moments of joy compensated for that.

The morning was filled with questions that I basically tried to shove to the back of my head so that I could finally finish my presentation (which by the way, has already been 3 weeks in the making! Hello, revisions!). I was really preparing for this presention because its a do or die thing. I swear, for a minute, I felt I would be jobless if I didn't nail this. And because I was being so paranoid about this presentation, I even made a script! Yes, a full blown script which I placed in at table right beside the slide number. I had the entire presentation planned out. I had the animations done, the timing practiced, everything. The presentation had to go perfectly... and it did! Joke, well, it wasn't perfect but it was good enough. I caught a glimpse of approval from my boss that afternoon when I presented it and that was all the confirmation I needed to finally get rid of my paranoia.

I also had baon for lunch. Of my co-workers, I am the only one who consistently has no baon. I just haven't figured how I could prepare it. And if I would have mom prepare it, I may not like what she prepares for mysisters. Also, I enjoy buying my food. But it does get tiring over time and to have baon today was really a joy. I didn't have to worry about going downstairs and falling in line and picking what food to buy. Also, I got to eat with my co-workers... at last! Yes, I did enjoy the belongingness that brief lunch break brought.

By the way, I was brought to and from work by daddy. It was just a comfort that was different from how Jose would pick me up. I don't know what about it is different but it was... and it was nice.

Oh yeah, office got suspended at 4pm (even though I found out about it past 4:30pm). Even though I left the office at almost 5, the fact that the office got suspended made feel happy. Its a feeling I told myself to leave in college - the anticipation of a suspension - and to have experienced that unexpectedly was really nice.

Nothing very extraordinary happened today, actually even more confusing matters clouded my brain for most of the morning but it was a good day overall. Won't question why anymore, I'll just end with a thank you. Thank you, God!


I hate talking about my feelings (weh?). Well, I just hate talking about hurt. I hate telling people I'm hurt because I have to tell them why. And letting people know what hurts you is the worst thing to do - its like handing your weapon to someone so they can stab you. Its just plain stupid. And I don't like being stupid.

But since this is the internet and the internet won't ask me why, I'm going to declare that I am hurt. No hypothetical posts this time, just honest declaration of feelings. I'm hurt and it sucks. Big time.

STORY: Say It, Please

Everyone knows the saying, "Action speaks louder than words" and as much as I believe in that saying, it won't hurt to hear a word or two every now and then.

I like receiving letters, I like reading emails and notes, I like hearing how someone feels towards me. I know I should be thankful Jose is the type who shows how he feels rather than just saying it but sometimes I really wish he would tell me as well. He isn't very expressive with his feelings through words so when he tries to, it feels forced. But after so long, I finally heard the best compliment from him... ever!

"Kahit ihalo mo yung gawa mo sa iba, 
alam ko kung ano doon yung iyo e"

We were talking about Cinemalaya when he suddenly mentioned the past film contests I joined. And then he just went on and on about this and that and ended with saying I had this style that he could identify only with me. He isn't sure if it was a shot or an angle that I always use but he would know if the video was made by me. Oh goodness, I could have just jumped out of the car and danced around because of too much kilig and joy.

Anyone who knows me knows that it is my dream to have that identity. I want people to see my work - whatever it may be- and just know it was mine. Something like the last scene in Hercules where Phil's dream of having his trainee be made into a constellation and having people shout out "That's Phil's boy!' came true. That kind of recognition.

And the best and most awesome part was that this compliment came out on its own. I didn't fish for it nor did I open up the conversation. It was a genuine compliment. And if that was why he waited four years to say it, then it was definitely worth it.

STORY: Hell Of A Dream

I had the oddest dream last night and I'm making a post about it for two reasons:

  1. I could actually remember the dream;
  2. And it kinda scares me that my mind comes up with these kinds of stuff.
I'm going to present this the most organized way I can. So, let's begin.

For the setting, I wasn't quite sure where I was but one minute there was snow all over which surprisingly wasn't very cold then another minute I was in the Philippines because I could hear the words Davao and Cebu. For the time of day, it was somewhere near dusk - a dusk that went on forever. I've gone to a lot of places in the dream but the way the sky looked stayed pretty much the same - as though the sun was about to set.

For the story, well, I was Satan's assistant. I don't know how I got that job and if that meant I was already in hell to have that post but in the dream (more like nightmare), I was his assistant. Well, from how I remember it, we were on earth that time and he would ask me to escort different people into an elevator that would lead them to a fiery pit at the bottom most floor and to a better place at the very top (throughout the dream, I never got a chance to see what was at that top most floor, I just assumed it was something good the way he spoke of it). From how I remember it, Satan would be telling people to do something (I assume it is something bad because people refused to follow) and when someone would refuse, he would ask me to bring the person to the elevator so that the person could see what happens to those who rebel. The elevator drops very quickly like that in amusement parks that make you feel you left your guts somewhere above your head. I wasn't afraid of the sudden fall. I had gotten used to the feeling because of the many times I went down to the pit. The people I was with were very terrified though. The sudden fall would make them shake and grab hold of my arm in fear of what may lie at the bottom. The fire they would see at the bottom would reflect in their eyes and I would pity them and in my mind, I would think of getting them out of that horrible situation by pressing a button that would bring the both of us to the top most floor. But I couldn't do it. I was playing a game with Satan.

I believe it was the end of the world that time and people were running everywhere, although the place where Satan and I would stop would suddenly be crowd free. We were like on a world tour, hopping from one country to another. So, from the snowy place somewhere, we ended up in Davao, which in my dream was a city in Luzon. This was when I figured out why I was agreeing to be Satan's assistant. I was waiting for the time that I get to the Philippines and get to escort my family to the elevator. That way, I could bring all of us to the top most floor. By this time, I had gotten Satan's trust and he wouldn't suspect a thing. This was the only escape from the crumbling world.

The dream ended there. I wasn't able to see my family because they were still trying to get to the place where Satan and I were (it was like I could see anyone, anywhere, like I had a crystal ball in my head). I was just there at the elevator, anxiously waiting for them to arrive. 

When I woke up, I told my sisters, who were getting ready for school, about my dream. And as I did, I realized that Satan was a confusing guy. I mean, if the person rebelled against him, they would be put into the fiery pit, right? But if they followed him, won't they still be going into some kind of fiery pit because Satan lives in hell? So whether someone does what he wants or not, they all go to the fiery pit! So I'm assuming the top most floor is still a fiery pit (a pit on top? Kagulo)

And you know what scares me most about this hell of a sisters said I was laughing in my sleep.

THEORY: Parenthood by a Non-Parent

Last night on the drive home, Jose and I ended up talking about parenthood. Specifically, the kind of parents we were going to be. And just so you won't get lost along the way, let me clear it out that JoeDy is the name of our unborn baby boy. If that creeps you out then please move along because it's going to get even weirder.

Anyway, we were talking about Jose selling his car for a new one. I told him that I imagined him passing his car (which I baptized as Badong) down to JoeDy someday. And then he said, if that was the case, then he should really dress the car up (meaning put all the accessories he just said he would never put back again since he just took them all down a month or so ago for the nth time). Also, he said that he would remove the car tint. I agreed. Somewhere in those lines is a hidden message. Read between 'em na lang.

Moving along, I started talking about all the things I wanted my child to learn and not to learn. I started with sex. Yes, as I type that word in, my nose cringes. I hate the word and I hate the thought of it. I actually kind of dread that we, humans, have to go through it to reproduce. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against "it" (please don't let me say the word again) but its just not for some people. I know, I may eat my words sometime along the road but at 20, I apparently still have a strong disliking for it. I thought the same thing when I was 13, 'Give me a few years and I will warm up to the idea'. It has been seven years and my feelings towards it has not changed that much. Well, I don't hate it as much now, rather, its more of dislike. Teka, how did this post become about me? (Conceited ko noh?) Anyway, I told Jose I wanted JoeDy to look at sex the same way I did and still do. I wanted him to hate it. That way I won't worry about being a young grandma. Jose disagreed. I got mad. I told him, 'Do you want to see your son's future go down the drain?' He said that doesn't have to happen. He explained that he didn't want to feed anything to the child. He wanted the child to decided for himself. Although he did make a point, the way he initially said it got me so pissed. I just have this set of values that I want my child to live by and hearing that my partner in life (hopefully, siya na diba?) disagrees with some of it is just so frustrating.

Let me just run through these 'values' I keep blabbing about (most of which Jose had a problem with):

  • Swearing is a no-no, it is condemned, it shall not be spoken nor be thought of. I don't cuss to this day, although I do accidentally slip a bad word or two very rarely, it is mostly because of hearing it all the time not really about me meaning what I say. I just find cursing very, what's the word, unclassy? 
  • Sex is not cool, it is disgusting. Yes, that is the way I will FIRST describe it because really, telling the child that it is how two people who are in love show their feelings (which most parents buy is a great way to keep their kids from engaging in the activity early), won't keep them from doing it.
  • I want my kid to answer back to me. I do not like it when parents say, "Because I said so" and then end the conversation. I complain about my parents' ways all the time but one principle that I am deeply grateful that my father believes in and continues to practice is that he listens to his children and encourages them to defend themselves. He tells me that I should follow him because I believe he is right not because he was my father. We would debate all the time when we would disagree on something and he would not call that rude or disrespectful. The greatest part is that if I prove him wrong and if I prove that I am right, he gives in to me just as I would with him. It makes me feel I matter, my opinions matter and that I am capable of doing things right. Of course, for most parts of my life, I always lost so he enjoyed this 'principle' for quite some time already... but its my turn now! Mwahahahahaha. I want my child to feel important, I want him to know he has a brain and that I encourage he use it... all the time, everywhere and with everyone... including his mom. And when the day comes that he proves me wrong in a debate, I will be more proud than ashamed my child had beat me because I have raised an intelligent person.
  • I want my child to pray. Before, I was close minded and strictly Catholic so I wanted my child to do all these religious stuff and serve the Lord. But the years have changed my perspective and if that is a good or bad thing is something I still am figuring out. Anyway, I want my child to freely choose what religion he wants. Of course, as a child, I will teach him what beliefs I know and raise him the best way I know how. But when the time comes that he questions this, I will be more than happy to let him explore and understand what faith really is. But no matter what religion he feels best expresses his beliefs, I will teach him the importance of prayer. No matter what God he chooses to worship, I want him to learn how to close his eyes and pray... to ask for help, to be regretful and to simply be grateful. 
  • I won't ask my child to give anything back to me, to his family. I will not burden my child with the responsibility of paying for his siblings' tuition, for buying me medicine, or for financing anything for the family after he graduates and gets a job. I don't want him to think that I raised him so that one day I could use him and make him serve me. No. I want him to know that I raised him and gave him everything I did because I loved him... no strings attached. If he chooses to give something back, I would want it to be because he loved me the way I had always loved him.
  • I won't give my child anything for nothing. I want to spoil my child and give him everything I am capable of giving as much as the next parent but my want to teach him the value of money and hard work is far stronger. I want him to deserve everything he receives. I don't want to go home one day and just hand him an iPod just because. I want to surprise him with a toy when I noticed he has consistently been getting good grades in quizzes, or I see he is being very kind to his sister. It doesn't matter if its big or small, I want him to know that things don't fall into your hands, you work for it. And if he has gadgets that are still working, I won't tolerate upgrading it just because everyone is. I just hope I could get his father to cooperate (who I am still trying to teach the value of money after four years).
  • I want my child to have passion for learning. I don't mean academically (but it would be nice if he loved school as much as I did), more of everyday life. I would love for him to enjoy Disney as much as I do, to enjoy reading books, to enjoy new experiences, to just enjoy life. I want him to find joy in knowing - trivia, quotes, tricks, facts, whatever! I just want to be excited about knowledge. I want him to continuously pursue learning. I want him to have the desire to improve himself. I want him to find satisfaction in reaching his full potential. 
  • I won't tell my child what to do with his life. I mean, in choosing what college to go to and what course to take. I hear of parents who choose their children's course all the time and I feel absolutely awful for their children. I know they mean well but they are doing more damage than help. This is the time where you trust that you have raised a child well enough to know what he wants in his life. To have to decide that for them is just wrong. I want my child to take a course he loves (although I will insist he goes to school no matter what) and it doesn't matter if it isn't what I would have wanted. I will support him all the way. If he loves painting and he sees a lifetime of it, I will support him. If he loves to play the flute and honestly believes he will live on playing the flute, I will support him. If he loves law (which I hope he does) and be his mom's personal attorney against his dad, I will support him. 

I guess these are just some of the 'values' I feel very strongly about. There are some more but I just can't remember them by now. But yeah, I really do wish I will be able to instill these values on my child and I hope and pray that my husband will be cooperative. I mean, all of my efforts to teach these values will be for nothing if once I close the door, the father goes and does something otherwise - like buy his son a car just because. 

But you know what... more than praying I actually become successful in instilling these values or getting my future husband to cooperate... I just really pray I become a good parent. I know all parents damage their kids one way or another, I just wish I could be a good enough mom for my child to love me despite it. Sakit sa ulo 'to! Thinking of parenthood is making me go crazy what more the actually thing! Hay, I'll stop na and leave that for when it actually happens (hopefully years and years later pa!)

P.S. Have you noticed how I lapse into Tagalog time to time? Well, that is my effort to make my blog posts less serious and more conversational. Effective ba? 

STORY: Mean Girl

This post will sound so mean but I bet most, if not everyone, has thought of this at some point. I just had to share it, put it out there... 'cause I don't really like it staying inside me any longer.

"I want you to fall in love with me just so I know I can be loved"

For the past weeks, months even, I have this soft voice whispering in my heart that keeps chanting the above line. I ignore it, I try to cover it up with other thoughts, but it won't go away. Its irritating, its frustrating, and most of all its terrifying. I mean, its such an evil thought and its something that breeds inside me. Wouldn't that make you afraid of yourself?

Before you go into parent mode and start telling me how wrong this desire is, you have to know that I do not deny it. I know I'm not thinking of what the person who falls in love will feel. I know that this is very selfish. I know that this is plain wrong. I know, okay? I do. Don't worry. I don't have any plans of putting this thought into action anyway. I don't even have a person in mind. It actually doesn't matter who the person is, its just the thought of having someone fall in love with you, the feeling that you still are lovable, the reassurance that you have not become someone that somebody has to put up with... that's all I'm looking for. 

But I guess I'm never going to find it lest I want to be the mean girl I told myself I never will be.

THEORY: Power of Music

People underestimate the power of really good music.
Parties, dancing and singing aside, there is so much more to music.

Music can change one's mood.
Music can help communicate words left unsaid.
Music can bring people together.
Music can bring closure to open wounds.
Music can make you smile.
Music can make you dream.

In my particular case,
Music can save a life.

Yes, in the middle of the darkness (which was quite brief but dark nonetheless), I found hope in music. It appears that listening to songs that speak of feelings you thought were unique to you could mean the world, could mean a life. 

Thank you Maroon 5. I owe you one.

STORY: Its Raining John Lloyd!

I know I was just blogging about my meaningless life in the previous entry but this post just proves how quick the wind changes direction. Now, I have a lot to look forward to and one is the video below. Yes, ganito na ko kababaw. ;)

ABSCBN finally launched their Ulan Station ID for the year and it is amazing (as usual)! It focused on their love teams though unlike previous years where they included all their talents. Anyway, it didn't really matter since all my attention went to John Lloyd and Bea. Naku naman talaga, they still have that magic. ABSCBN hit a goldmine with those two. You don't find chemistry like that every dynasty (Yes, I'm quoting Mulan). And its amazing that they do not have to pretend that their love team is real. The audience know that their "love" is for show but they just work so well, its hard not to believe the realness of the chemistry.

Hay, now I have a reason to live. There is a new Lloydie project to look forward to. (I'm actually a fan of John Lloyd, nagspill over lang kay Bea. Haha!)

Of course, a lot happened the past two days that made me change my thoughts on life. I'm not as crazy as I appear to be that a simple love team would prevent me from committing suicide but I'd rather just share this particular reason. I think I reached my quota on heavy drama blog posts!

Mabuhay ang John Lloyd - Bea love team. (Yuck, I'm so baduy na talaga! Hihi)

STORY: Quarter Life Crisis

When life loses its meaning, you're as good as dead. Come to think of it, it's actually worse because you actually get to see yourself suffer.

I know this is such a morbid topic but not all thoughts and experiences are happy. And I'm pretty sure a lot of other people have gone through the same thing, so it's perfectly fine that I blog about this. Someone should.

I'm at a point in my life when I just don't see the value of anything. I don't see any reason to still be alive. I know, I know, there are millions of people out there who are struggling to hold on to dear life... which is just perfect because I'm more than willing, at this very moment, to give up mine for them. I mean, just basing on our will to live, they deserve life more than I do. If I were to die, I'd prefer it to be now, when I wouldn't have anything to leave behind.

I'm not fooling around. I'm serious. I'm even searching on how to be an organ donor just in case God hears my wishes and grants it. At least, as I leave the world, I was able to help someone else live.

I think this is called Quarter Life Crisis. I just don't know what I'm doing anymore and I don't know where I want to go. At least from childhood 'til I reach 20, I had school to keep me motivated. I had a finish line that kept me going which was to graduate. Now that I've ticked that off the list, I don't really have much left in my  to-do list. And if ever I do have some items left, I don't see value in doing them. I mean, so what if I learn a new language? If I climb a mountain? If I travel the Philippines? None of the items on the list has got me excited or motivated. I feel everything is pointless.

If I were to die now, I don't have any enemies I have to make peace with (well, none that I am aware of), I don't have people depending on me, nor do I have any dreams I still wish to fulfill. This is the perfect time. I think I am satisfied with all the blessings given to me and I really do not mind not getting any more of it. Other people would be more grateful and worthy to receive the blessings that would have been for me. So please, while I'm ready, while I have nothing more to live for, please let me return the life You have lent me.

THEORY: With All Honesty

Back in grade school, I always thought of myself as a poet. Of course my idea of poetry was getting a story across while managing to make the last word of every line to rhyme. Fast forward to today, I still think I am a poet, a frustrated one, but a poet still. And though I know that poetry is way more than just rhyming words, I still find myself drawn to those that do

Today, as I was composing my twitter update, I accidentally made the first two sentences of it rhyme. And from that, I just kept going and I find myself here in my blog talking about it and (in a while) sharing it.

Here it goes.

With All Honesty

Why must you be so important to me? 
Oh, never did I plan for this to be.
I thought love was simple, t'was you and me
but things took a turn that I didn't foresee 

You made me feel sensations so brand new
What indescribable joy when with you
And though I soar higher than ever before
The world of disappoint I'm forced to explore

Is this not torture, simply well disguised?
You made my heart burn yet left it iced
How I've come to despise, you, I adored
What burden, what confusion, Oh why Lord!

As you taught me love, I also learned hate
I doubted things as you spoke of this faith
I held you and grew skeptic of the world
Oh how I've become this poor insecure girl

Why must you be so important to me?
That my love has become crazy, madly
Believe that I did not will this to be
But some things are bigger, stronger than me

But let it be clear that I love you so
That I must say goodbye to your hello
And its breaking my heart, can you not see?
How to save you, I shall set you free.


This isn't master poetry, I know. No need to tell me. But really, I bared my soul here and I think I put into words what many girls (and boys) feel yet refuse to admit. 

It is an embarrassment, a shame, to admit that we are the clingy one, that we may be the one who gets left behind, that we may be the one with less to offer. In one way or another, we have felt inadequate, others more often, others more extreme... but we have felt it all the same. And in a world where confidence is emphasized, and self pity is left with no room, we are forced to brush these feelings of inadequacy and put on a brave face. Its not that there is anything wrong with this idea of always putting on a strong facade, but feelings are there for a reason. And if it is not to be flaunted, it is at least to be understood. But how can one do that when everyone is hiding, everyone is denying, everyone puts up a mask?

I think somehow, to some girl (or boy) feeling insecure out there tonight, I have become a friend... someone who understands what she is going through without her having to reveal that she feels the same. And you know, with that thought, I think I gained a little confidence, a little belief in myself and a few inches worth of smile... and even a little hope that I may be a poet after all.