Live Not With One Name

Originals:
Registered Name: Jiea Jennifer Gabat Dee
Chinese Name: Li Lee Hua (Beauty and Pride)

Various Simulators:
Elf Name: Nessa Nerwen Surion
Simulated Japanese Name: Fujiwara Miharu
Adapted Japanese Name: Li Reika (By Kenji Omachi)

Self-Given Names:
Sora Hearts
Rhoa Rhinslei
Haize
Miharia
Purple Pendulum
...and lots lots more.

I dunno, I just thought I'd list them down in the entity of an entry.

Poetic Prodigy, Am I?

Come To Me, I'm Here
Originally Composed by Jiea Dee Somewhere on June 2004
Adapted from Morning Glow by Aoki Mayuko

Now I know promises are understood
Opened eyes to distant skies
To walk away, you never would
Now I know promises though faint begin to grow
Even though I will go away, don't cry
You're not alone

Everytime you find yourself
Lost within into endlessness
Nothingness
As bright as the sun's rays
Let me open ways
Lighted ways to my embrace

Come to me you'll finally feel warmth that is sincere
Come to me so finally I'll hold you close and have you near
Shine on me so finally you'll pray and I'll appear
Come to me and finally don't run away now
I am here

Even distance won't hold you back from me
I'll hold you close to me
I won't let you go
Enclosed by my arms, fall in my tender warmth
Always...

Excellent! It's been more than a year now...

In My Mind, Not My Blog

Crap, I always miss out a lot of succulent subjects to write about! Might as well make a short list.

1. Journalism Career
2. My Retired pRO Life
3. My Family's Status
4. The Store's Financial Crisis
5. My "Friends" (Surely, not all of them are for real. Some of them may be but high chances are they're only temporary)
6. Story Ideas
7. The World's Paradoxical Cruelty
8. Art Breathing Its Last Breath
9. Literary Art's Delusion of Renaissance
10. My Destiny

Starting now would take pages and ages and unfortunately, I don't have both.

July the 31st

The last day of July. God how time flies (Crapped Cliche!). It felt as though the beginning of July was only a week ago. One thing I've noticed about growing up is the older and more mature we become, so does more vague time becomes. Ten years ago, one year was as long as what a kid defines "long". But the more time has elapsed, the more distorted it becomes to us. Right now as I type this, an hour feels like only fifteen minutes long. *Sigh* The unexplainable magic of maturity. Sweet.

Lyceum Debate Society

LDS meetings just reheld yesterday. Damn those Prelims. My debating skills are becoming rusty and to think I didn't get to practice yesterday. My team was incomplete so I was assigned to adjudicate instead. I did a pretty fair job and showed no sides. So far the LDS is the only thing that keeps me industrious in school. I still do a pretty lame job as a student now that we're still tackling the menial basics. I can't wait to negotiate with the core subjects! The OJTs of Journalism! Nice.

Yesterday before meeting was adjourned, Glen gave us one inspirational speech. He said that the LDS isn't just an org. It's also an expanded group of friends. It's fun. It's also a training ground and we get to socialize with other schools. One day, we'll have a cross training with San Sebastian and St. Scholastica. And one day, we'll get to own those high-time schools such as UP, UST, De La Salle and Ateneo! Yeah, LDS is on the road!

But seriously, we really are capable of owning those charlatans of schools. Damn them, they're all nothing but talk! We'll show them that LDS can kick where it hurts! It's not in the school. That's one damn thing that they should have rubbed on their heads! Argh! If we the posterity we'll take charge, we'll place LDS way higher than the highest summit of Debating glory. High above UP and DLSU and those bananas. We're gonna kiss the moons, baby!

Glen spoke, "If you're going to do something, you might as well do your best. You never know that nothing can eventually evolve into something, or even everything." Thanks Glen, it was obviously more than just talk. You displayed yourself as an example. The LDS was a hybrid of friendship and competition. You not only compete with each other but also against each other. Glen also said not to take the LDS trainings as just plain practice. Think of it as a competition. Aim for the top. Glen did the exact same thing. He also told us that he saw authentic debating potential in us. We did much better jobs as neophytes than what they did (Glen, Pryma, Nicky, Fatima, et cetera) long before and he foresees that we'll be even much and incomparably better.

Thanks GC Glen. We know you're not bluffing. We'll place LDS on a position most unimaginable.

They Saw But They Didn't Know

Come to think of it, I haven't really posted anything about college or Manila life. Maybe I'm just too lazy to even begin or maybe I still have to recollect the scattered fragments here in this dumpsite a.k.a. my mind..

To begin, Manila living is twice as hard. Every little thing you do requires twice the money, twice the time and twice the energy required as it was in Puerto Princesa. Sometimes even thrice! Many view it as an inevitable hindrance but I on the other hand see it as an extra challenge. Probably those living here in Manila for a long time now perceive it as an everyday thing that needs no attention or explanation that comes in naturally. Well I'm someone else. It's something new to adapt to. It's somewhat like a new playground for me except that there's no actual playing here. Surviving are the rules. Of course I have engraved in my mind the set of rules my dear dad has given me.

1. Be brave
2. Be strong
3. Do the right thing

Well I can adapt. I can shape myself to blend into the new surroundings like a chameleon changing color according to its background. At least I learn to be independent. Mom always had this notion that I won't survive here all along. I've proven her wrong. "How can I send you to Manila if you act like that!?", "I'll cancel your enrollment!", "I'm going to have to make you stay here in Puerto!", "You can't prove to me that you're worthy enough to study in Manila!" Well look at where I am now.

Mom says she trusts me but I hardly felt it all my life. I know it's on the way I act! Many people commented that I act five years younger my age. Well what can I do? I can't just change myself that easily! I was born to be like this like a wolf is born to be vicious. I may act like one but I know deep inside I have my own sets of maturities too. Why can't they see that? Everytime mom would yell at me, I'm never given a chance to speak my mind. Damn her for that. I once told her that all she did before was break me. Surprising how she didn't comprehend a thing. She just doesn't know anything. I do something bad and she automatically thinks I'm a bad kid. Maybe that's how I acquired that negative notion of myself. Mom's wrongful comments.

Maybe now I'm starting to realize why the past year I was so catatonic and suicidal. Mom hardly said anything positive about me. Hell she would always compare me to Christine. That makes it more hellish. I'm older but I'm the less trusted. That's because they never saw... Nobody understood. No one. No one but Pops. Pops was so far the only one who trusted me completely and unconditionally no matter what I did. He never took control. He just set me free. He made me feel like an obedient dog without a leash. Thanks Pops... I'm glad to know you trusted me with your life. That alone is such a miracle.

I hope that one day Mom will see what I'm truly made of. I'm destined for greatness! Not only Mom but the entire damned Gabat family. Screw them all but of course except Ninang Mari and cousins and Raphael of course. At least they knew my other side of the coin. Thank you all for seeing without the use of eyes. Which gives me another quote idea.

The heart is the true instrument for sight.

Rose of May

ROSE OF MAY
Mary Howitt (1799 - 1888)

Ah! there's the lily, marble pale,
The bonny broom, the cistus frail;
The rich sweet pea, the iris blue,
The larkspur with its peacock hue;
All these are fair, yet hold I will
That the Rose of May is fairer still.

'Tis grand 'neath palace walls to grow,
To blaze where lords and ladies go;
To hang o'er marble founts, and shine
In modern gardens, trim and fine;
But the Rose of May is only seen
Where the great of other days have been.

The house is mouldering stone by stone,
The garden-walks are overgrown;
The flowers are low, the weeds are high,
The fountain-stream is choked and dry,
The dial-stone with moss is green,
Where'er the Rose of May is seen.

The Rose of May its pride displayed
Along the old stone balustrade;
And ancient ladies, quaintly dight,
In its pink blossoms took delight;
And on the steps would make a stand
To scent its fragrance - fan in hand.

Long have been dead those ladies gay;
Their very heirs have passed away;
And their old portraits, prim and tall,
Are mouldering in the mouldering hall;
The terrace and the balustrade
Lie broken, weedy and decayed.

But blithe and tall the Rose of May
Shoots upward through the ruin gray;
With scented flower, and leaf pale green,
Such rose as it hath never been,
Left, like a noble deed, to grace
The memory of an ancient race.

Sweet, I love that poem! It's amazing how some imaginative writers can turn seemingly ordinary things into extraordinary masterpieces. Wherever did the Rose of May come from into Mary Howitt's mind? She was able to make a poetic treasure out of it.

One day, I'll write a novel also entitled The Rose of May. It will be about a rose - the last of its kind that somehoe survived in the modern ages. She was found by a teenage girl and was shown the new world - Full of Hate. The rose now begins to wonder why such a lovely world could be turned into a horrible haven.

Songs that Sing Secrets

Time to beautify another senseful song!

The Tower - Vienna Teng

She turns out the light anticipating night
Falling tenderly around her
And watches the dusk
The words won't come...
She carries the act so convincingly
The fact is sometimes she believes it
That she can be happy the way things are
Be happy with the things she's done

She says I need not to need
Or else a love with intuition
Someone who reaches out to my weakness
And won't let go
I need not to need
I've always been the tower
But now I feel like I'm a flower
Trying to bloom in snow

Reach out but hold back
To where is safety
Reach out but hold back
Where is the one who'll come change me?
Where is the one?
The one

Man, I love the way she placed the rhymes. Not at the end of the phrase but two rhymes following each other within a phrase only with a short gap in between.

The song sings of independence and integrity.
~Reach out but hold back - Go for it but be careful.
~She turns out the light anticipating night - Dare for danger.
~I feel like I'm a flower trying to bloom in snow - Try to make the impossible possible.

Rainbow reveries, eh...?

Treasure Turbulence

*Sigh* I have this habit of making crammed posts in one day. I can't say it's my fault in the first place. Who am I to take control of time? I can utilize time but I can never manipulate it. Yet sometimes, only to myseff, I somehow can. Everytime I write in my existent journal or just type here in this virtual journal, time seems to go twice as fast. Like now for example. Thirty minutes have expired but they've flown like only five minutes. Many may not believe in magic but a minute in mind can be a manipulated magic. Sweet! What an alliteration! Which brings me to another unthinkable thought! Rhymic speaking matters are far common but why not alliteration? Has no one needed the notion of noticing the nefarious within the normal? Wow! There goes another alliteration!

Whoops! I'm going off the topic! But then again, that's another bad habit of mine. Let's see... What else do I wanna write about?

*Groan* My minds like a treasure box that's always snatched first by someone else. The ideas evaporate right before I can write them into words! Whirling and swirling like star-sprinkled waters then suddenly and without warning, it suddenly transforms itself into a whirlpool which quickly drains itself from my mind - The Treasure Box.

Sir Badilles once told us of his self-made quote regarding politics. We need not Change of Men but Change in Man. Wow. He even proudly said that he didn't pick it up from anywhere else but his self. Anyone can create quotes! Absolutely anyone!

"I'd rather die as myself than live as someone else."
"I'm different! I'm the someone else in everybody else! I'm the red in blue!"

I guess quote-creating should also be considered an art. Once I was an imbecile believing that people who create quotes are just assholes wanting attention. I guess immaturity is the home for mistakes. There are TONS of great quotes that I really adore. It's just too damn bad that I was too lazy just to write them down! But hey, I'm glad I remembered this one I wrote some months ago...

Fate
Coincidence - Join as One
Destiny

To be honest, I still can't fully explain that diagram/quote above. But they do have one thing in common though. All of them happen by chance and not by choice. Probably except fate. I was once told that fate is in your hands. But coincidence and destiny? Maybe the relation is Destiny and Coincidence are brothers and Fate is their cousin. Destiny is born from the beginning while Coincidence comes without warning.

Fate is in thy hands while destiny art forecometh.

Broadcasting or Journalism?

Oh fun fun fun! I just failed the Prelims of History, Science and Math! Damn, why don't I feel embarassed showing this to the public? Anyway, the truth must be exposed. That's the creed of a journalist! 'Sides, come the third year of college and we'll be tackling the CORE subjects! Bye bye basics!

For now I'm still a bit split in half about still what the rightful course for me is. I have Broadcasting and Journalism. They're apples and oranges but they have their own similarities too. Broadcasting acts more on TV while Journalism pivots around more on print media but Glen enlightened me by saying that I too was having the common misconception that almost everyone has between Broadcasting and Journalism.

The thing with broadcasting is it has become far too common now. I was horrified like hell when I saw the list of graduates under CASE. Not just Mass Communication but the entire college itself. Almost half the graduates were major in Broadcasting. Being the indifferent type, I wish to go the opposite direction. That opened the window to Journalism. Not the door yet but just the window for now. Doors are entrances, windows are looking holes. 'Sides, the Broadcasting market is pretty cramped. A few openings to thousands of broadcasters. ABS-CBN obviously doesn't have that many slots for employment. How 'bout if I try CNN or Fox News? Screw Papa Tony for saying that I'll go nowhere with Broadcasting abroad!

But then again, I did submit that post about letting myself be the last. I'll probably stay here for now and offer my skills in journalism for the same kinsmen. 'Sides, that speaker in that LyCAJS orientation that the majority misconception is... a misconception! Journalism of course rewards with cash, not just recognition. Maybe I'll begin as a mercenary for various newspapers and magazines. That'll be nice. Glen also told me that there's also the thing called Broadcast Journalism. I guess my opportunities are expanded either way.

But then again, now's too early to decide! Might as well have fun first!

Let Me Be The Last

It's been a few days but no biggie! Day-interval between posts aren't a threat! Anyway, I just thought of writing down my favorite part of Madonna's Frozen.

You only see what your eyes want to see
How can life be what you want it to be?
You're frozen when your heart's not open

You're so consumed with how much you get
You waste your time with pain and regret
You're frozen when your heart's not open

Now there's no point in placing the blame
And you should know I suffer the same
If I lose you, my heart will be broken

Love is a bird, she needs to fly
Let all the hurt inside of you die
You're frozen when your heart's not open

Madonna's lyrics may be simple but they contain a lot of sense. Frozen sings of self-centerism. In the end, that being self-centered will just leave us frozen, wanting for more, a heart frozen by greed and malcontent. We only wish for ourselves, not caring of the others who live among us. It's always me, myself and I. I'll admit, I may have my self-centered sides too.

Pops said that it's already in the nature of humans to place themselves as their top priority. Self first. I may be like that and that's the one thing I want to change. Change to make a difference. That was what my essay was all about. I hope it was inspiring to everyone. I hope they realize that the world doesn't revolve around themselves.

I can understand if it's already in our instincts to place ourselves first but why does it have to be this way? How I hope that there would be a massive change among the entire human race and have them place the difference as the crown. Why do we have to place our selves first? We are just but one individual on earth. Just one compared to the billions that live among us.

If I write a fully-detailed essay about this, it might take pages and ages. But still let me try to squeeze the juice out of the lemon and focus more on the important facts. One day I'll write a whole manuscript about this selfishness subject. I just don't have the time right now.

If only fantasies were existent. Sadly, they're only existent in our minds. For now, I won't live for myself. Let me be the last for now.

Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games

Wow. Three posts in just one day. Now my addiction is on a roll now! Blogster's much much better than Friendster in my opinion. And wow, I'm surprised I'm not instinctively typing in chat format like using acronyms such as IMO, BTW, OMG, et cetera.

It's been two months since I was last online in Ragnarok. That itself is surprising. Long ago when my addiction was still at berserk state, I could not stand even just a day of no playing. I felt like I not only wanted to play but I HAD to. Man, it felt as though I was hypnotized by the game. I was like a mindless computer programmed to serve the game. I treated it like an altar to be offered. Stop! I don't wanna think about it anymore!

But still, playing that game was both a dream and a disaster. I was both in heaven and hell. Being in that game felt like... I don't really know! Hell, why can't I describe it!? Before I could use as much as one 1,000 words to give it a description! Still, I'm giving it my best shot!

I perceived the game as a dimension to escape the world of rash reality. To get away. Kuya Allan once told me that his main aim was to have fun. "I already hae too many problems in real life! I don't want anymore here in Ragnarok! Just let me have fun for a change!" That was my aim too but certain real life catastrophes tend to reshape one's tendencies.

I could still remember the exact date and time I first played Ragnarok Online or simply RO. January 11th, Sunday, 7:00am. I viewed RO as just another video game to keep me entertained or simply as a hobby like Final Fantasy for the PS2. But then, RO was a Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game, not just a typical Role-Playing Game. In console RPGs, you still act as the main character of the game but he still isn't you. He still has hiw own personality and motives. He may be you in the game but you are not him. You just control him, manipulating him to achieve his goals. Console RPGs don't give you your own blueprint.

But MMORPGs are different. You are your own character. You have no built-in blueprint to tell you what to do. Your attitude is also your character's. That's the magical thing about Ragnarok Online. It's like playing an almost realistic game of pretend where no one will make fun of you. Those were the days... But now, I don't think it's for entertainment anymore. Hardcore players treat it as an objective. It's now a stadium instead of a playground. The competition has become too fierce. 'Sides, what's the use of playing a game of goons now? It's already corrupted by bots! It's become an essential part of the game now. Damn it. I should have believed earlier that Kathleen was right! One day, the bots will overrule the land. And then it will be the time to quit.

I once had a massive argument with Master Diwa about this and I was surprised his matters made a lot of sense! But still they only made sense in the realm of Ragnarok. Real life almost had naught to do with it! But... Shit! This is getting so damn confusing!

Anyway, this manuscript might only turn into a raging literature than a peaceful pool of ponders. I don't want my reveries enraged.

A Lucrative Life?

Wow! I'm getting quite addicted with this blog thingy! Personally sometimes (only sometimes) better than a concrete existent journal but the latter can sometimes have its own advantages such as your true colors show through your handwriting and the way you organize the sentences. Here on electronic journals, things are somewhat automatically organized. Damn it, that is SO unlike me! Why I'm Jiea Dee! I'm born to be disorganized! I'm used to having my things scattered almost everywhere. Once my cellphone ended up inside the freezer! Don't ask me why I put it there! Maybe I was semi-catatonic that time but I wasn't on drugs! I just thought of putting it there! I don't know what triggered my mind to do so!

I once scanned this book on better writing. It didn't exactly contain tips but quotes. One quote was somewhat disturbing... "Write what you're afraid of." Brrr... That's one thing I never thought of doing. There are a lot of things I'm afraid of. Once I was scared of death for absolutely no reason at all. It felt as though fear came from within, not without. It feels as if even my pen itself is afraid to write. Right now as I type this, I feel somewhat scared. Maybe I'm being haunted again. Haunted. Reminds me of that song by Evanescence.

Long lost words whisper slowly to me
Still can't find what keeps me here
And all this time I've been so hollow inside

*Sigh* Many things surprise me. Like how people view life for example. I'm intrigued my Heimer's description. He once told me that life is not actually worth living since you'll just die in the end. Death is the most gratifying gift for anyone who thinks of life as mortal hell. 'Sides, Dumbledore once said that death is but another great adventure. Some refer to it as the other world. I don't know how it feels like dying and most of all to be dead. I am still alive. Heimer once told me...

"Whats' the use of living when you'll just die in the end? Right now life is tormenting me like hell. I feel wothless. I feel unloved. I feel I have no purpose. If this is how life treats me then I might as well just end it all. I'd rather be free of pain than suffer for long. why do we have to go through this? We all die, right? So I might as well end it now."

I can't blame Heimer for having that mentality in the first place. He believes that God does exist but he has no religion. I respect his choice but it might be better for him if he practiced a religion particularly Christianity. Now he doesn't understand why we should love our enemies. Why love those who make life hell for it? That's absolutely crap!! Heimer... You just don't understand yet I'm not in the right place to scold you. Maybe one day, I'll teach you about the Bible and of God's word and miracles. Maybe one day that life is worth living in the first place.

Even my reveries can be life itself...

When Hatred Haunts

Sunday - The day I love and hate. I love it since it's a rest day and has no classes and I hate 'coz it comes right before my least favorite day of the week which is Monday. Dad would ask "So you hate Mondays? Are you Garfield?" Yeah, I am just another existent version of Garfield. We despise Mondays. Damn that dreaded day! It marks the beginning of five days woth of fatigue and work and lack of fun. *Groan*

School's like a see-saw as of now but still retains balance. Some are good, and some are bad particularly Algebra. Damn, 'til now that subject comes to haunt me. I failed four consecutive years of Algebra already! Why won't that evil subject ever leave me alone? That's the third reason why I pursued Mass Communication - to avoid Math. I guess I might as well just endure 'til the second sem of my second year. By that time, no more Math! Pure Mass Comm, baby!

Anyway, might as well save some ideas for my next post. 'Til then sweet reveries.

My First Post

Weeeeeeee!! Blogger! And I thought Friendster was already the best of the bad!

Maybe I should have begun a blog along time ago. I have a concrete journal here which I've kept for two years now but still it contains large time gaps. Entries are made only once or twice a week. Hell, some even once a month!

So here I am multi-tasking between this blog and the Shadow Circle forums. I'm glad I've grown to get along with those people. Although some nostalgic happy memories from Grand Lethal still sometimes haunt me. I can't believe we've known each other for more than a year now. I never knew time can be as swift as a shadow. It comes like a thief in the night. Time is both long and short at the same time.

Funny, why am I having this vomitting feeling? I feel like my stomach's elevating and the contents are softly but forcefully pushing themselves out of my mouth. Who knows, maybe some of my reverie's side effects.

Anyway, I still have remaining Prelim exams to worry about and the verdict of that Ramon Magsaysay Essay Writing Contest. First prize is P100,000 but I better only spend half my time for fantasizing. Sure, I'm confident about my manuscript but expect too much and the disappointment will come and haunt.

'Til then my sweet reveries.