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[ website | A technicolor life, painted with words. ]
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0185: It'll be enough to breathe the same air that you do, even just for a moment. [Jan. 8th, 2008|06:43 am]
[mood |sleepysleepy]
[music |Wonderwall - Oasis]

[Note: Sap warning.]

Today, I might just see you.

I don't know which is worse, seeing you or not.

I'll be with my classmates, and you... well, I don't even know if I'll see you since I doubt everyone from your campus will be marching along with us.


Isn't it funny? My heart, it's beating so fast at the thought of seeing you again, of seeing the wind play with your hair, seeing that smile of yours that makes the world seem so much brighter.

I know nothing good will come out of this, this hypothetical situation of mine where I'll see you from afar as I stay with those I'm with now and you with yours, but for one moment, one fleeting moment that I can see you, your hair that I envy its lightness, your eyes like the Manila sky at midnight, ah, just you...

Who cares about the tears, the unbreakable distraction, the failed tests that will come after if I can just see you again?

And if I could hear you laugh, or speak, or sing, to have the colors from your voice surround me completely...

Ah, you'd tell me I was insane if I were a stranger but you know my condition, my crossed neurons that generate colors when sound waves pass into my ear. To be wrapped in the colors you speak, the colors that only belong to you in my mind, to see them in real time and not in remembered memories or lucid dreams...

Perhaps today will be the last time I'll see you, perhaps I won't see you at all, perhaps it won't be the last time either.

Isn't it funny to have so many possibilities running around in one's head, making up fantasies and hypothetical situations instead of memorizing physics formulas and the mechanics of fertilization?

Today, later, how many hours more, and I think something which will make me seem rather pathetic:

It'll be enough to breathe the same air that you do, even just for a moment. Ne? Not to mention the air you breathe now is much less polluted than the air I breathe now. No asthma attacks!

Because I know, I'm resigned, I know that's all I'll get, can ever expect to get, and strangely, it's enough for me now.

I just hope I can control myself if I see you, as my classmates might notice me looking like a lovesick fool and tell you this.

That would be awkward, given that most of them won't know who you are.

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0182: "Hey, limbic system? Could you stop cranking out this sad feeling I'm experiencing?" [Oct. 8th, 2007|11:23 pm]
[mood |depresseddepressed]

Congratulations. Even though many people have made me angry, sad, a combination of the two, no one has made me so mad, sad, overcome with emotion, to scream at him or her in front of a class. (Even in the Darkest Days of the STR Research saga, no, I never screamed at one of my groupmates in front of the class and our teacher - who would be horrified, probably.)

Let me correct that: no one has made me so overcome with emotion to scream at him or her in front of a class during an oral report. (I am just thankful that my teacher said kind words to me afterwards, telling me that what I reported on was right anyhow.)

Such a dubious honor, and I award it to people (if only it had only been one, but no, it's almost the whole enchilada - block) I thought would never make me feel this way.

Key word here? Thought.

I should be embarrassed, and I am (but not because I shouted in front of the class). I should be angry now, but I'm not.

I'm just sad.

Maybe that's worse.

Hey, limbic system? Could you stop cranking out this sad feeling I'm experiencing? Yeah, like that will work.

Anger, I'm an Aries. I don't put stock much in Astrology anymore (although I have many books attesting to a long-ago belief in it) but Aries people are said to be quick to anger, yet their anger burns out quickly. I don't easily get angry, but the latter bit's true.

Sadness... that takes a while longer to disappear.

I just know, though, that what happened today would never happen to any other person here, so I wonder what my classmates thought of me that made it ok for this to happen.

Maybe I'm too much of a doormat. Maybe.

Maybe I'm just not right for this.

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0179: A Defensive Conversation with the MiniStop Lady [Aug. 18th, 2007|05:16 am]
[mood |contemplativecontemplative]
[music |North Country - The Rankin Family]

So there, and now I can say that I have not only defended my course choice against my friends, my family, and my teachers; I can now add the MiniStop Lady to my list of verbal opponents with regard to that.Collapse )


I had my follow-up checkup Thursday with my ENT doctor, who as I mentioned in a previous entry obliterated my poor vein, and he mentioned casually that the name of the vein he killed was “septum” after I mentioned that it had bled again 6 days after its alleged demise.

Unfortunately for me, the first thing I thought of was the septum found in the heart (separating the right side from the left) and I had gruesome pictures of that septum exploding and my oxygenated and deoxygenated blood (colored red and blue respectively, following the illustrations found in the beloved Campbell book) mixing. I am however 50% sure I heard him wrong because I had a cold then, and colds diminish my hearing accuracy greatly.

Hopefully, as I’ve been looking in my laboratory manual and I cannot find any vein in the nose (or artery) called septum.


Next week (if it isn’t postponed) is LadyMed, which is the yearly competition between the batches in the College of Medicine of UP wherein each batch changes (I think the operative word here is “transforms beyond recognition”) a straight guy into a beautiful lady. Our entry is JF, and certainly the operative word is not an exaggeration. I am however traumatized by the seductive poses he makes (which, as we have seen earlier in the first LadyMed we entered, the judges eat up).


Given the outdoor nature of my PE (Walking) and my teacher’s insistence that we still have class, we ended up doing aerobics.Collapse )


Good morning, and it’s Saturday and I can’t believe I’m reading a proof for Physics in my Biology book (wtf, Kardong?). Thank you, and I now return you to your regularly (theoretically) scheduled blog post.


I sincerely apologize for the second to the last previous post, which was 1) absolute crack, 2) deranged, and 3) rather vague yet glaringly obvious at the same time. It was so fun to write, though, I’m thinking of doing something like that again. Someday. Somehow.

And for the previous post…

I won’t apologize, nor will I pretend everything is all right, because it is the truth. It’s the blinking honest truth, and I don’t care if it hurts you, you, or you (and of course no one but the three “yous” know who I’m referring to, so bah).


But looking at the dark night sky, the sky that has just come back into focus, and the streets below, washed of grime that will be reacquired once the new day beckons, and I falter from opening my beloved textbooks, wishing to observe these some more, give them some more time, these days.Collapse )


Some people have called it (the end of the Harry Potter series) the end of childhood, their childhood days, and others have called it the end of an era. (No Spoilers.)Collapse )


I want this.

I want that.

But I don’t step on others to get what I want like you do.

You may be the golden one, the one everyone thinks the saint, and I, the one everyone labels the loner-fool, but what we do –those things we term actions- reveal the truth about you and I, of what we really are.

Be damned, then, and don’t forget the pitchfork. (You deserve it anyway.) Cheers.

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0178: I know I'm too far gone when even quoting Harry Potter doesn't amuse me even a bit. [Aug. 13th, 2007|02:05 am]
[mood |depresseddepressed]

Everything's fucked up.

*channelling Deathly Hallows* Not my world, you bitch bastard unknown-superior-being-that-wants-me-to-snuff-it!

I know I'm too far gone when even quoting Harry Potter doesn't amuse me even a bit. (And I can't think of a shorter name for the thing messing up my life. I'd like to call it U-No-Poo, but that would be copyright infringement. And unoriginal. And just plain sad on a whole other level.)

And in conclusion, I've just failed the test of my life. Thank you, and good night good morning. Please don't wait up, I don't want anyone to see me like this.

0177: And now for something completely different. [Aug. 8th, 2007|04:57 pm]
[music |Never Again - Kelly Clarkson]

7. Okay, you"re lovely and charming and I don"t really like you and I wish you weren"t so dashing and lalalala. The sad thing about that last sentence is that I wrote it while completely 100% sober.Collapse )

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0176: "There's more than one way to skin a cat, they say." [Jul. 29th, 2007|10:50 pm]
[mood |tiredtired]
[music |Ordinary Girl - Naked Blue]

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to honor the passing of my highly faithful-

Ehh, no one here except me and a congregation of stuffed toys.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears

Wrong occasion.

Fourscore and seven years ago

What The Hell.

Let's cut to the chase.

Yesterday, yesterday was the day I had something very near to my brain killed. It was a painful death, which resulted in the destruction of peripheral observers and my inevitable exposure to a dangerous substance.

Yesterday, a vein died.

Alas, poor Vein! I knew it, readers, a vein with infinite blood-carrying duties, of most excellent fancy.

Fitting, but ah well.

The vein in question was located somewhere up my nose, and was put to death (actually cauterized) by my doctor specializing in matters of the nose (and ears and throat). The murder weapon utilized in this case is the much maligned yet undoubtedly powerful substance Silver Nitrate (AgNO3). It was a very painful death (even with the aid of an anesthetic) and up to now I still feel the pain from which it was burned away.

Now why would I allow (and pay, even) for the death of my beloved vein (actually, it's more of a blood vessel, but it seems more dramatic -and takes less letters- to use vein; also, my doctor expressly called it a vein) who has undoubtedly served me well all these years by helping to carry blood back to my heart? How could it have wronged me by doing its duty?

Err, it all has to do with my imposed new favorite chemical substance, formalin, which I am in direct contact with at least two times a week (as of now).

Since I have allergic rhinitis, I am generally more prone to nosebleeds than the average person. Unfortunately formalin (in large quantities) apparently irritated my (already irritated) nose to the point of the blood vessel tearing and there we go. I had observed nosebleeds for err, all the days I had up close and personal encounters with my formalin-drenched friend and thus came to the doctor wondering why.

So now I mourn the passing of a vein which could not withstand the chemical inhalant of preservation and wonder had I had continued with my original planned course (Chemical Engineering/Management Engineering) if my vein would still be alive and not ever have to die.

(At least it didn't come to the point of blood coming out of my eyes. Yes, my doctor warned me about it when he was convincing me to undergo the cauterization.)


There's more than one way to skin a cat, they say.

Well, now I know ONE way to skin a cat.

Unfortunately the ONE way I know of skinning a cat involves a lot of sweat, up close and personal encounters with said cat and formalin it's soaked in, lots of tears (bodily reaction to said formalin, emotional response to desecrating/massacring cat body), and sharp blades (trust me, the ordinary dull scalpel blades that can be used successfully on frogs won't work so well here).

All this for the chance to wear a white blouse and pants with a nameplate brandished on your chest.Collapse )


Speaking of dissection of cats, it is more costly to acquire several cat corpses for extensive study than frogs because cats are more expensive (I think it's 350 pesos for one cat as opposed to 50 pesos for a frog.). I was thinking this while I entered school last Friday when I saw a cheery announcement at the guard's table: "Kittens 4 adoption, c guard on duty!"

Oh shoot. Please, not the kittens too. :(


A few hours with you all is more than I could ever have hoped for.

I missed you, Potassium people. Even though I had second thoughts (and third thoughts and even first thoughts) about going (since I knew exactly who were going), I'm glad I went.

Evil Manila flood making us late be damned. :(


Last Sunday I watched Pisay at the CCP with my mom (and Vinni and his parents, coincidentally). I won’t give away anything, really, but it does explain some of the Pisay myths that have been passed down for ages (for example, the myth of why there is no Calcium section anymore).

I’m amused at seeing my brother’s dorm room (I think it’s my brother’s dorm room) in the movie =P

A more coherent review will come after July 31, one that will dwell on plot points and stuff, so as to not spoil those who are watching on that date.

Short safe review: Waaaaah. It’s good. I miss Pisay even more than ever. =(


The Obligatory 20 things you want to say to 20 people but know you never will meme. Perfect for people like me who are extremely passive and sometimes feel the need to punch a person or something.

Very much inspired by Josef-san's version :) (since his version was the first one I saw).

Obligatory Disclaimer to protect self: Won't confirm or deny any of these pointing to a specific person. (I have a feeling what I'll write is totally obvious, but ah well.)

Ah, no. 17 is obviously a living famous person that I will never meet. But I do think the world would be much better off without him/her.

Sometimes, sometimes when I dissect animals, I superimpose your face on theirs and end up having to watch myself lest I whisper your name and let my classmates know that sometimes I wish to vivisect you. I"m not proud of it, even more since you don"t even look like the animals I superimpose your visage on.Collapse )

I will not confirm any of the 20 here (in lj or at my multiply), but if you catch up to me somewhere and you're relatively trustworthy I'll confirm any correct guess. (As long, of course, as you aren't the person being referred to by the number.)


Someone asked me to update and write about my thoughts on Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (otherwise known as Book 7, DH, the end of the HP series). I will not do this right now because I know that some of my classmates/friends (who read this lj) have not finished (or even started =P) the book. Wait a while, I'll do it eventually. (Honestly, I don't think I can write about it without using spoilers.)

Actually, I still haven't recovered from reading it.

And honestly, how do you say goodbye to a series you started reading when you were 10? :( I'm still trying to figure that out.


While dissecting, a cry arose from my classmates (who were hoping to escape the horror following our Bio Lab class otherwise known as Field Demonstration: UP Manila Style!): "Sunog!"

Lo and behold, looking out the corridor windows gave me the gristly sight of a large smoke cloud. I mistakenly thought the Supreme Court was burning again (ignoring the direction of the cloud, stupidly) but eventually found out that it was the Court of Appeals (or part of it) that had given in to its innate inflammability.

Supreme Court, Court of Appeals, what next? Department of Justice? >_<


[Comments screened because of this.]

I’ve known of this since July 20 (the video was released on July 19) but debated with myself on whether I should post this. After consulting with some people, though, I’ve decided to do so. I'm not going to say anything; I'm just leaving you with this because I believe that we should know (or those who wish to know have the right to know) the latest developments of the case. (This does explain what I have said in recent posts, though.)

Inabswelto na ng Malacanang sa pananagutang aministratibo ang isang estudyante na pinagbintangang naglagay ng nakalalasong mercury sa tubig ng kanyang kaklase.Collapse )

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0172: "First step, first brick, first doubt." [Jun. 24th, 2007|11:55 pm]
[mood |tiredtired]
[music |Psychobabble - Frou Frou]

[This post is dedicated to Dingdong and Gerald, who inspired me in their own (sneaky) ways to update again. Wow, first post in June. :) Hopefully not the last.]

My love for you is slowly destroying what good feelings I have for myself and I don't know what else.

Can't I love you and love myself at the same time? Should I even have to choose?


$7700.00The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth

Mingle2 - Free Online Dating

Hmmm, maybe I should get into the cadaver business. That's a lot of money. Donk.


A Suspicious Hair Encounter, Example 1 (I hope this isn't a series.)

I am walking through Robinson's Place Manila in search of food and blank DVDs (the latter of which is located on the third and fourth floor, the former being found most anywhere). I am alone and it is evening and I am hungry but certainly I did not dream this up.

As usual, my hair is loose and free and I am happy with this arrangement. I am on the second floor of Robinson's at this time (right near the Guess? shop and the Potato Corner stall) and am how many steps away from the escalator that will take me to the third floor. I take one step, then...

Ow. I try again. Ow. A pain erupts from the back of my head and I wince. I realize that a lock of my hair seems to be restrained. I turn back and...

The man behind me has it in his hand.

I guess he sensed my annoyance because he quickly released it. I quickly got on the escalator before he could do anything else that was a) suspicious and b) injurious to my scalp.

Thankfully I have not seen this man (who actually looked like a normal man, around 26 years old) again.


After one week and three days of school, I've met almost all my teachers (except for the elusive Table Tennis teacher who still has not appeared for some reason). While I'd like to say that I like all my teachers, I don't. I can't.

One of my teachers has this voice that seems to clog my eardrums and is utterly incomprehensible at first hearing. When he opened his mouth, a snot-colored green mixed with brown wave flooded my senses and I was blinded with visual disgust. What I heard wasn't really much better. I couldn't understand the first three sentences he spoke at all; it was like he was speaking Russian with a really thick accent. With the fourth sentence, suddenly the Russian-like words melted away to English words still spoken with weird intonations and tonality which was a little bit better. I have a feeling that I will have to "reunderstand" his voice (and trust me, it's such an odd unique voice in a bad, er, unclear way) every meeting.

My new favorite classroom is my Humanities II classroom which has (other than good air conditioners and lighting) a large tv (more than 24+ inches), a piano (!!! - possibly the only piano in the Rizal Hall building), and a computer (which has not been turned on yet). It (the classroom) is also quite large and nice. It is also blindingly white, which allows me to see the color waves of my classmates/teacher very clearly.

Last note: My SocSci II teacher is the bassist of Sugarfree, Sir Jalton Taguibao. :) He seems really really cool :)


Will I still be able to knock down this wall if I decide to stop being mad at you, I wonder.Collapse )


Belated happy birthday to Joan-san, JF-san, and Celine-san :)

And (very very late) Congratulations Nya! :) :)


According to my notebook which has a lot of acronyms used in chatspeak printed on it, GASP is an acronym. Dingdong and I were both sufficiently horrified when we found out what it stood for.

GASP = Go Away Silly Person.

We were both horrified especially since we end up saying GASP to each other continuously at times (when we are shocked by an event or traumatized).

I shall now try to wean myself from this word. Somehow. :|

To everyone I have said gasp to (and accidentally insulted and asked to go away):
I am really really really sorry. :( I was using it wrongly. :( (And I now realize that I used it in my last entry too. Gomen nasai :()

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0171: Topless Sandals???? [May. 28th, 2007|10:11 pm]
[Tags|, , , , , ]
[mood |listlesslistless]
[music |In the Waiting Line - Zero 7]

I believe that I have done an infinitely stupid thing yet I have not been adequately punished for it. Thank the cosmos.

In my defense, I say that my brain was addled by simultaneously finalizing our research paper and studying for my Stat finals (and post-finals test).

In my rush to get to school (because I was unfortunately running late) for the test, I accidentally…

I don’t know why odd things always happen to me at the end of a grading period.Collapse )


I now have a new friend/stuffed toy/general oddity to keep me company as I sleep/write/procrastinate/study/watch anime/(insert other actions here).

My brother is amused by it because unlike most stuffed toys (which are generally animals), it is a…

G. A. S. P.Collapse )


It’s summer! (Or what little there is of it before it’s time to go back to the grade grind.) I am currently celebrating it by …

*crickets chirp*


I celebrate it by…

*looks embarrassed*

Having lots of guilt-free sleep marathons.

Well, and writing and writing, but that’s after I’ve woken up and eaten something (or right before I sleep).

For those who like Wicked (book or musical, preferably musical, or both), Youtube, and the Sims: hopefully not mutually exclusive groups.Collapse )

Seeing videos like these make me realize how much one can do with one computer game (and a lot of expansions and customized stuff).

In other The Sims related news, there is apparently going to be a Sims movie (info taken from here). *gasp* I wonder what kind of plot it would have…


The most epic Pokemon battle of all time!!!!

Rated PG-13 for multiple swearing, a cellphone, the lack of a Hyper Beam TM, and Ditto appearances. :)

I think my brain exploded from the battle. >_< But now I want to do something like that with my Pokemon game…


Belated happy birthday to Hopia-san, Danni, and Patrick :)


Is that what you’ve learned in your Science intensive course other than the difference between basalt and granite and the stages of ecological succession?Collapse )



Topless sandals?????

Picture and description taken from the website:

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Topless sandals simulate walking barefoot while protecting your feet. Topless sandals stick to the bottom of your feet, but leave no residue on your feet when you take them off. The "stick" is guaranteed for a year, which is the typical life span of a flip flop. Topless sandals are basically topless flip flops, but so much cooler. You'll be amazed at how many heads you turn while wearing your topless sandals. People will literally think you are barefoot and so will your feet. Topless-Sandal.com is the official topless sandals store and topless sandals accessories store for items such as toe rings, foot jewelry, and anklet bracelets. Tell your family and friends about the hottest item on the Internet - the topless sandal. Our topless sandals make great stocking stuffers at low prices. Topless sandals are just plain fun and feel great on your feet. Go Topless!

And allegedly (according to an email I got today) these are available at the Ateneo Mall.


For those wondering why there is hardly anything relating to my real life here…

Sometimes real life is just too painful to write about.

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0170: "For some reason all the names I was sure I would be writing down flew out of my head." [May. 17th, 2007|03:26 am]
[Tags|, , , ]
[mood |sleepysleepy]
[music |Battle Frontier (Ballad Version) - Akina Takaya]

[June 29, 2007: Edited to add more to the lists.]

Oddly, no one but you notices my questionable actions; you’ve woven the web around them so well that they don’t even feel bound.Collapse )


Lists that involve my hair and things and getting caught and not getting caught hopefully.Collapse )

* added on June 29, 2007


I wonder if my vote will really matter. Will it be used by others (among millions of other votes) for spurious means or will it remain untainted, clean?Collapse )


From my contest:
I met you in third year, but we were never really formally introduced. Your third year section is Rubidium. I admire your programming skills, they're phenomenal. You are really skilled with music :) I'm surprised you friended me on lj.

Belated happy birthday Kido-san! :) I hope it was a great day for you :)


I can't wait to watch Block 14's (and a Nursing block's) play "Isang Bakla sa Hukbo ni Aguinaldo." :) I'm sure you've all seen the poster with Ardynne-san on it (as Trebor-san, Lara-san, and Joanne-san have each posted it) :) When a copy first appeared in UP our block crowded around it and identified all the people we knew on it.

If anyone's watching on Saturday (May 19) at 2pm, you'll see me there :)

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0168: 18 and 19. [Apr. 15th, 2007|12:05 am]
[mood |contemplativecontemplative]
[music |Mr. Brightside - The Killers]

[started at 11:23 pm, April 14, 2007]

I look at the clock. It’s 11:23 pm, and the sky has long gone dark and the neighborhood silenced. It’s always been a clock-watching day, this day. Every time this day in the year goes by, my awareness of the different clocks in my domicile increases proportionally to my decreased need for sleep. And now that the day is over, time seems to have slowed to a crawl, that I’ve typed this sentence and it’s only 11:25 pm by my electronic clock.

It’s funny. I don’t profess to love my birthday; it is always a day celebrated other than for my birth. If it’s not Black Saturday, Good Friday, Maundy Thursday, any other day in Holy Week, it’s Income Tax Day and my parents are indisposed as they calculate tax returns of other people. If it’s not any of these days, it’s the day of a boxing match of Pacquiao. Good heavens.

Yes, yes. And of course to my family (or at least part of them) I take the back seat once again as my boxing fanatic family members head off to watch it Pay-Per-View style.

I’ve never really liked my birthday. When I was a child, I thought that 13 was a grand old age and that when I turned it, something would pop and I’d be magically transformed into a different person. When I was 13, I thought I would wait until 18 for the magical transformation. But it was not to be, as 18 rolled around and nothing dramatic happened to me. (Unless you count having one’s hair flung about by a rollercoaster, I mean, Space Mountain in Hongkong Disneyland.)

It’s 11:33 pm. I’ve stopped to pet a stuffed toy on its head and pull on socks to warm my chilled feet. I’m 18, and in a few minutes I’ll be 19. (If you want to get technical, I’ll turn 19 on 1:43 am, since I was born at that time almost 19 years ago.) 19 and the whole world is still unexplored by me. 19 and I’ve never been able to sit on my hair or bake a cake. 19 and I still wonder if I made the right decision almost one year ago by following up on my checking a single box less than a year before that.

I wonder.

With 19, then 20 and I’ll be entering med proper. With 20 comes 21, 22, 23, and soon I’ll be 24 and walking through PGH as an intern. With 24 comes 25 and I’ll take the boards. And with 25, the real world beckons.

It’s 11:37 pm. The socks aren’t helping my feet at all; they’re turning into foot-shaped (what else would they be shaped like?) ice cubes. I feel my hair tickling my lower back, the ends long enough to enter my pants. It’s odd to think that a year and four months ago my hair was just past my shoulders. Time, and 17 turns to 18 and now it’s 23 minutes to 19 and my hair is past my waist.

With 18 came my first hold departure order, my first step into college, my first step into a PGH ward. With 18 came the feelings of sadness with the departure of many friends, of not being able to see them or even talk to them. With 18 came the meeting of new friends, of interacting with them and seeing who they were and who they weren’t. With 18 came the reminder that life goes on, even though you wish for it to stop.

With 18 came the decision to break off the thread that connects me to you, that pale thread which I hope has not turned red.

With 18 came the learning to twirl and spin and step in time to music, to skin a frog after destroying its brain and to identify its muscles. With 18 came the label of supposed intelligence and the knowledge of the hatred of others not qualified for it. With 18 came the grief at seeing people suffer and not being able to help them. With 18 came the leaving, and the leaving remains tucked in the heart of a girl and it may never go away.

With 18 came the world anew and I received it and walked on it with eyes aglow. Looking at the world in these last moments before 19, it’s so much more than what I saw of it when 18 was just a second achieved.

It’s now 11:50 pm. I have given up my feet for lost, they might turn black from the cold and eventually fall off. My hair needs to be brushed, but I can’t find my comb. There’s 9 minutes to the last day of summer, how many hours until Pacquiao enters the boxing ring, and months and months until I see you again. If I see you again.

I don’t want to count anymore. (But it’s 11:54 pm.) Has it all been in vain, everything I’ve done? I don’t know.

Who knows what 19 will bring? Desecration of cat carcasses and organic chemistry, I know, and maybe even old friends that may return. But there are still many things hidden in the shadows, and I’ll need to count down the minutes to get closer to them.

It’s 11:59 pm. Let my last thought before 19 be this: perhaps it wasn’t a bad year after all.

And let my first thought at 19 be this: perhaps this won’t be a bad year after all.


taken from chnzo, ballisticgal, voldemort_a, and uno_animo

How it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc.)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button

A hypothetical soundtrack that dictates my hypothetical life?Collapse )

Remind me never to do this again unless I have given my Windows Media Player a severe talking-to.

And now I want to write an actual story based on this. Nooooooooooo.

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