Nocturnes To My Own

You don't understand me, my baby
You don't seem to know that I need you so much
You don't understand me, my feelings
The reason I'm breathin', my love
-Roxette, You Don't Understand Me

You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way
I'm human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
-t.A.T.u., How Soon Is Now?

Sometimes I get so weird
I even freak myself out
To laugh myself to sleep
It's my lullaby
-Avril Lavigne, Anything But Ordinary

These lines somehow pivot around my life in very esoteric and thematic ways that I do not have the words nor the literary power to explain and substantiate...

I. Hate. MATH!

Chronicles of a Math Antipathetic:

-My first ever red mark was done way back in Kindergarten and the subject was Math.

-I only learned how to add and subtract a year after it was taught in Nursery II.

-I had a hellacious time with Math during the entirety of my elementary years.

-I’ve only fully known the basic arithmetics in High School when I should have just only mastered it in Grade 5.

-I consecutively flunked the quizzes and assignments given on the very first day we were taught basic Algebra.

-I almost flunked Algebra if not for my “sympathetic” teachers.

-I developed this notion that those who love and specialize in Math require immediate mental aid and treatment.

-I treated Math as my mortal academic arch-enemy besides my conformist classmates.

-I considered Math as “The Subject of the Damned”.

-I almost failed basic Trigonometry in the second year of my High School.

-I nearly couldn’t make it out of third year due to my pitiful grade in Geometry.

-I almost dropped out of fourth year for I received nefarious marks in Physics, Geometry and Trigonometry. (What an accursed memory this is…)

-I scored an equivalent of 37/100 in the Math CEM test.

-ALL my entrance exams to colleges (Centro-Eskolar University, Holy Spirit and Lyceum) showed that I had horrible results in Math with an equivalent of 16/50. (Who cares now that I passed all exams for my desired course!? And why the hell does Communication Arts have any relevance with the damned subject!?)

-I wanted to kick myself for even thinking of taking up College Algebra in the first year of college.

-I scored 6/50 in the Prelim exams of College Algebra.

-I got a final score of 3 (that’s 75% flat) in College Algebra. (Who cares as long as I pass!?)

-And until now I can’t even do basic Algebra.

-And finally, I wanna celebrate for no longer having to worry about imminent mathematical disasters come the following years. (Freedom at long last! Foreign Service is Math-free! This is my rapture! MY euphoria!)

When She Said Sex II

“Just why are you suddenly so curious about it?” Tony asked, breaking the silence.

“Well, I have this research assignment. It’s for the Debates. We needed facts and information in order to matter-load and I vol-, I mean, was assigned to work on sex and its benefits. And wait, is it also true that having sex can make you feel younger and more beautiful?” I asked like an inquisitive kid.

“Yeah, possible.” Tony casually answered. He really sounds like he’s had it a thousand times. Speaking of his frequency on engaging on such activity…

“Hey Tony, how many times have you and your girlfriend done it?” I asked as if sex was just a mundane subject to discuss about like the weather.

Tony seemed reluctant in answering at first but then he lowered down his voice. “Come here, I don’t want anyone to hear us.” He led me near the walls of our school and stood beside a small bonsai plant with a fair amount of branches. “See this branch? Count the number of leaves it has.” I counted and found around twenty or less. Then he replied “The number of leaves you have counted is equivalent to the number of girls I’ve screwed.”

It was my turn to be surprised. I looked at him as though I was looking at someone who was dying from cancer. Yet I tried to reassure him. “Look Tony. I don’t think ill of you, okay? I’m no anti-sex-”

“You’re not anti-sex anymore!?” He interrupted. I was beginning to be surprised with his sudden mood swings. “So does that mean you’re pro-sex now!? Jiea! I can’t believe you!” He gaped at me, a sinister smile was slowly forming on itself. “So when do you plan to try it? Tonight? Tomorrow? I can give you tips if you want!”

“Moron! Being anti-sex doesn’t automatically mean I’m drawing onto the other side!” I screamed as I kicked him sideways on his knees. He didn’t seem to feel pain for I kicked him lightly and effortlessly.

“But there are only two things to choose from! So if you’re not anti-sex, it only means you love sex now!”

“NOOO! I’m in NEUTRAL terms with sex! I’m not anti-sex but I’m not just gonna get screwed by just anyone! You know the golden rule! ‘Don’t get fucked until you get married’! Hmm, maybe I should wear a shirt with ‘Proud to be virgin’ printed on it!

“And next thing I know you’ll be wearing something with ‘I’m a sex-freak’ on it!”

“Shut it.”

Tony and I both laughed. This was one conversation I won’t easily forget.

“So where you going now? I’m off to Ermita to visit my girlfriend.” Said Tony.

“I think I’ll go home to UN Avenue. Got work to do.”

And we walked out of Intramuros through the Pavian together and caught a jeep once in the streets.

When She Said Sex

I continued walking across Intramuros past the proximity of my school whilst thinking of a way to write my research report on the benefits of sex as a matter-loading file for the Lyceum Debate Society. I stopped by this old lady selling candy to buy myself a raspberry-flavored one. Halls I think. And it has somehow vaguely reminded me that sex is somewhat relevant to candy. After all, some variants of contraceptives are flavored.

“Just what made me volunteer for this topic?” I whispered to myself as I drained the flavor from the candy. I tried not to imagine myself actually eating contraceptives. Besides, I may be green-minded (I can create and quickly understand green jokes) and read FHM on a regular basis but I’m in no way perverted and sex-obsessed. Would people be surprised if I told them I still am a virgin? I wouldn’t let anybody, not even my ex-boyfriend, touch me at those parts where they’ll be crossing the line. They do that and I’m gonna make sure they eat my fists. I’m not the type who easily gives in. To add to that, I’m not that believing in the power and pleasure of contraceptives.

Gross! Enough about that! Now I’m being haunted by this salacious video clip saved in a classmate’s cellphone. It showed Paris Hilton giving a B******.

Patience was lost upon simply melting the candy in my mouth. I started biting it to bits and swallowed it.

“Hey Jiea!” Someone called from behind. It was Tony.

He waved at me. I smiled and waved back. Tony is a nice friend of mine (read A-1o7 Pals under the October Archives). Perfect! Since he was one guy who is open-minded particularly on sex, he’s the guy I can ask about my research paper on sex! Alright! Heaven is being nice to me today.

“Tony! Tony!” I yelled out as I ran to him. “Look! I need your help and you’re probably the only guy I can ask about this without thinking I’m weird kid.”

“Ask me anything then! Maybe I really can help.” Tony replied casually as he took out a box of Marlboros, took a stick of cigar, lit it and started puffing. I looked at the red and white box of cigars with a sign of negativity on my face. I don’t smoke. Yet I ignored it and continued with my itinerary.

“Tony! What are the benefits of sex!?”

Tony immediately withdrew his cigar and gaped at me. “What the hell are you talking about!? And why are you asking ME of all people about that!?” He reacted in a half-scream. I sort of expected he’d react this way. I remained calm and continued interrogating him.

“Well, it’s because you’re a friend if mine and you’ve ‘been there’ so I thought that maybe you’re the only one I can ask! I mean c’mon! I’m not just gonna walk into a stranger and ask ‘Excuse me sir but have you already had sex? Would you be so kind to tell me its pleasures and benefits?’”

Tony’s expression suddenly changed from shocked to hilarity. Still he remained a faithful friend and answered my question wholeheartedly. “Well, while you go through it, it feels great. So great that once you’ve had it, you’ll keep asking for more.”

I was silent for a while… That sentence now gave me another reason why I should avoid sex: To avoid addiction.

Of Womanhood and Femininity

Reasons Why I HATE Being A Woman

1. Jeopardy: Women are the likely targets of muggers and rapists.
2. Less freedom: Due to reason#1.
3. Monthly pains: Women suffer from an "emission" which results to insanely painful cramps in the abdomen, breasts, lower back, or whatever body part a woman is sensitive in.
4. Vain and physical beauty: Women are required to fix up and beautify themselves (e.g. blowdrying, body lotion, face powder, oil astringent, weight control, duly hair-care, et cetera) all of which are a chore in my shoes. They end up being conformists in the end.
5. Gossip: Women are more likely prone to false chit-chat.
6. Gullibility: Women are easily affected, swayed and even manipulated by their own emotions.
7. Protocol and Etiquette: Women should not be seen sitting with legs wide open, running around or giving away sudden and impulsive reactions.
8. Pink: I HATE that color!
9. Sex: Women suffer from more disastrous consequences such as pregnancy, lost "virginity", responsibility, family shame and spreading rumors. (Note: I am still a virgin)
10. Love: When a woman falls in love, she can do nothing but wait and hope for her beloved to make the first move.

Reasons Why I LOVE Being A Woman

1. Expressive: It is perfectly alright for a woman to expose any sort of emotion and they are not criticized whenever they cry.
2. Hygiene: No matter what women do, they still manage to feel (and smell) clean.
3. Sensitivity: Unexplainably, I somehow adore the feeling of being physically sensitive. It makes me feel more precious and worthy to be protected by my beloved.
4. Friends: Even without an agenda, we the Tibaks (the name of our barkada) can hang out and party around. Even a simple show of Star in a Million and Pinoy Bog Brother can greatly put us in a festive mood.
5. Courtship: The feelings of having a boy try to win your heart is simple adorable and heavenly. Gives another feeling of being precious and special.
6. Extra credit: Since men are normally the stronger sex, women acquire double the credit when they have done an honorable deed or possess an honorable trait.
7. Sixth sense: Not exactly THAT power but women normally have these "good and bad feelings" before an occurence is to happen.
8. Pink: I LOVE that color!
9. Respect: Women presently are mandatoro figures of respect (Sadly, this custom is hardly practiced nowadays.)
10. Love: When a woman is fallen for, how heavenly is the feeling to be protected, taken care of, and loved...

Ipaglalaban ako ang ating pag-ibig
Maghintay ka lamang, ako'y darating
Pagka't sa isang taong mahal mo ng buong puso
Lahat ay gagawin
Makita ka muli
-Sugarfree, Makita Ka Muli

Translation:
I will fight and die for our love
Just await me for I am coming
For the one person you love with all your heart
All will be done
To see you again

A Series Of (Un)fortunate Events

Mapapatawad mo ba ako?
Mapaglarong isipan
Mapapatawad mo ba ako?
Ay sadiyang makakalimutan ang mga sulat ko sa ‘yo
-Moonstar88, Sulat

Translation:
Can you ever forgive me?
Playful and tricky mind
Can you ever forgive me?
To willingly forget my letters to you

It’s that chorus from that song “Sulat” which translates to “Letter” by Moonstar88. Funny though, I never really was a fan of local OPM (Original Pinoy Music) and here I am devoting at least a paragraph to the chorus of a song I remembered and even translating it to English.

*Lightly yet firmly places a hand by my mouth and gives off an extravagant aristocratic laugh* Ahohohohoho!

*Ahem ahem* Time to shift back to seriousness!

For now I’ve decided to write short shots about multiple topics, unlike my usual routine to choose a topic and write more than an essay about it. Here we go!

Jeff’s Early Bird Challenge
Wow, I never considered this challenge to be as tough as a sample test in Algebra. For almost two weeks now I’ve been waking up late – around two hours before noon. Besides the status quo of the sembreak, I’ve been mesmerized by the joys of sleep yet consequently suffer the consequences of having chronic headaches and confounded dizziness. I told BigBro Jeff about this and he has been scolding me for being such a sleepyhead. He even promised that he’ll teach me the art of waking up early – if such art is existent. To further make the challenge more enjoyable and beneficial, he offered to reward me that Nightwish CD, Higher Hopes, if I gain enough points in his Wake Up Early Promo. The earlier you wake up, the more points you accumulate! Higher points also give better prizes! Promo ends after 8am. ‘Tis a challenge too tempting yet fair and even to resist… I MUST GET THAT NIGHTWISH CD!!”

“Pinay Big Sister” at Monica’s Place
Poor Monica has been living all alone in her condominium here in Robinson’s Ermita. Of course she wants company. Thankfully, she and her faithful friends are often willing to accompany her and party around in her comfy little condo. Since we’re all fans of the reality TV Show Pinoy Big Brother, we somehow simulated that program and plagiarized our very own! Mercy (the oldest of us; she’s 19 already whilst we are all 17) acts as Big Sister but never really tells us what to do. We just do it for dormant fun! I think I’m gonna stay here again until Wednesday. Thursday finally commences the second semester and my first semester as a Foreign Service; Diplomacy student!

No Authority Under An Authoritarian
Another reason why I’ve been enjoying it here in Monica’s place is because my freedom has been upgraded to a new and higher degree. Sure, I am not denying that I like it better in Midtown but Tito Davy rules with an iron fist. He abolished Internet Use at home hence disabling me from making entries here in my blog. I’m just glad Monica’s place gives away unrestricted online existence – the reason why I’ve been lacking sleep. Once upon a night I was heard talking to Heimer on the phone complaining about Internet and PC use being prohibited. Good God, I got one hellacious yelling round from Tito Davy! I’m just glad I’ve had initial experience on this so round 2 will only be child’s play compared to the first. From then on I have engraved in my heart and mind the Golden Rule of adapting: “Get used to it.”

If people start talking shit about you, it means that they're touched! That's a good sign! And we don't really care what other people say about us or our music. We don't give a fuck!
-Cristina Scabbia, female vocalist of Lacuna Coil

Without You

Without You
Adapted from Without You by Marika Matsumoto
English lyrics originally by Jiea Dee

I don't know why did this all happen
As if nothing was done
Still I know why that some things happen
That's why now you have gone

I never expected this, some break-ups happen so suddenly
We loved and we hugged and kissed and suddenly you walked out
I never understood this, this puzzle has a lost misplaced piece
I want you tell me why what this is all about

Don't let my heart just tear apart
Should we go back to the start
All these memories, and these falling tears
Come back to me, I'm right here

Goodbye for now, I'm fine without you
I can go on my own
Still I miss the days I was still with you
Yet all those I've already thrown

I never wanted this, both my eyes are all red and bloodshot
Those days we were holding hands, they all have been vacuumed out
I never understood this, why did we have to detach this knot
I want you to tell me why what this is all about

Don't let my heart just bleed to death
Still holding my last breath
This fragment I saved deep down in the grave
In my heart I have engraved

Trapped in a place alone without you
It's what fate was meant to be
I can now live these days without you
It's time I set myself free

My heart may ache for you
It hurts, it's sad but I know it's true
And at last to forget the words "I love you"

Above and Below, Inside And Out

No matter how hard the wind blows up here, you can never get a scent of fresh air. You can’t even see the farther skyscrapers. They have been hazed by pollution. No matter how extravagant you think it is here in Manila, you still give in a price to pay.

Her friend’s words echoed in her mind as she stood by the veranda overlooking the entire Ermita of the city of Manila. This is where she grew up but unfortunately missed the opportunities of having wonderful memories here in the very place of her birth. All her life she was confined indoors with austere rules and authorative regulations. In her youthful days in Manila, she could have enjoyed all the available pleasures if only she had not lacked two things: Money and freedom.

I can’t leave you alone in Manila! It’s dangerous! I don’t want to always worry about you thinking what horrible thing has already happened to you!

This time it was her Mom’s voice that echoed. She could have had money but freedom was the one thing she had to aspire to have. She had to gain her parents’ full trust which was next to impossibility. After all she could not blame them for not constantly worrying and panicking. Manila-living is ten times more dangerous and hectic than simple provincial living. Back in Puerto Princesa, Palawan, life was very prosaic and mundane. Anyone can be made happy with just the simplest pleasures and there’s not really much to do or go around. With only a small shopping area with a small grocery area and only two storeys worth of department stores selling brandless items, two Jollibees, one ChowKing and one Dunkin’ Donuts where it’s virtually the Starbuck’s of the city.

She sighed as she continued with this entry. Four years ago when she and her family migrated from urban Manila to rural Puerto Princesa, how she hated everything around her – from the tallest Provincial Capitol Building to microscopic crawling ants all over the ground. “Puerto is so boring!” she would scream to herself perennially. “The people here are so shallow and simple-minded and entertainment is lacking!”

Yes… All she ever did four years ago was complain. Complain about her low-standard school, complain about how small and laidback the city and its people is, complain about the lack of updated trends that reaches Manila just a day after they’re discovered, complain about everything…

“Stop complaining already! You’re no longer in Manila! You’re here in Palawan now and there’s nothing you can do about it but to live with it!” her Mom finally yelled at her as she could no longer tolerate her endless decries of her new hometown. That very sentence sealed her mouth for good. She could do nothing but heed her Mom’s words. She was right. Too right. Complaining will give not even a miracle to let her fly away from Puerto Princesa and back to Manila. She had to live with it.

Fortunately, for the next three years she grew up and matured and so did her ideology. Eventually she has grown to love Puerto Princesa as well as her school which is Palawan Hope Christian School (PHCS) no matter how political and corrupted its ways can become. Even if she has now considered Puerto Princesa as her new hometown, she still can’t eliminate the longing feeling of Manila. After all that was where she was born and raised and she can’t help but feel that she has left a fragment of her in that anomalous metropolitan area though she has hardly any unrestricted liberated experience within it.

No matter how magnificent it is from above, you’ll find how hellacious and and oxymoronic it is down here, that place called Manila…