Fine. Goodbye.

It was my fault after all. I didn't get to save what was left. I was already beginning to feel like everything was going to fall apart. Then BAM, it happened. My laptop died on me. My harddrive, to be specific. Even if you're not a photographer, you'd have a lot of shit that you'd cry over when your old laptop suddenly dies on you.

This happened to me years ago. I cried for three straight hours hahahahaha. Pictures are so sentimental to me. They just mean a lot. Even if I don't know the people in the photos, I still have a hard time letting go. My photographs are just really special to me. Every single one.

I just.. Don't know how to react to this. HAHAHA =))) Akala mo namatayan, eh 'no.

I think it's a sign that I should just start over. With everything. Again. Back to square one. Clean slate. Bleached. 99.9% no bacteria kind of clean. Ugh.

Fml.

And well, life has been fucking with me this week. So much. I'm so drained. I just want this load off my shoulders. Thank God for friends who are willing to listen, for family, and just.. For being able to write and let out feelings. Jesus.

A Fuck.

Currently in a fucked up state. So fucked up, I don't know how even more fucked up I can get. Fuck :D LOL okay I'm in school and I'm waiting for myself to get filmed for our project. Speaking of that project, it's a fucking hassle. Fuck that shit, we're gonna get a mother fucking high score on that shit. ajofhodkjfoasjklsdhfjlsdhfhslf

Hi. I don't know what to do anymore. Where do I go from here. I am so.. Well, you got it. I'm fucked up :) ajksdaklueiowadlasudklasjd

Realizations

I'm tired of everything. So tired, I feel like I'm starting to not give a fuck. I don't know if that's better or not, but I'm not usually like this. I do tend to care a lot. But now, I'm used to all the bullshit happening in my life. Haha. Try to surprise me with something new--something that would actually ruin my day, something that would actually make me laugh and gasp for air, or something that would just make me feel okay.

I want to feel.
I want to feel the surge of life in me. Anything.
I just want to wake up.

Non-stop shit happening back at home, all the drama happening here in school.. I guess I'm just learning to move on. I'll just think of it as me, finally knowing my priorities as a college student.

I just want to bury myself with schoolwork. But at the same time, I don't want to feel detached from the outside world. HAHA you wish, Junessa. True, that would be hard.

I don't know why I'm like this. My head's just clouded with a bajillion things, to the point where I don't even know where to begin anymore. Worst part is, I don't know how everything's going to end.

A couple of days ago, I completely lost myself. Maybe that's why. I don't know where to pick myself up. All I can say is, that was so not me. I did need a break, and it was fun. But still, that wasn't me.

So okay, I was just randomly typing everything when I began to realize things. There. I feel... Depressed. About myself, life, people. Ugh. I need to snap out of this. It's making me feel dead.

Attraction

A sheet of soft, red velvet is covering what seems to be a box--pleasant to touch, but the edges may cause harm.

Everything can be deceiving.

What if you give in to curiosity.
What if your eyes are actually fooling you.
What if you look underneath the sheet.

Personify that image in your head. Who do you see?

The analogy with the book is overrated.
The mirror is too much for the vain.
And the prejudice you get? It's the cherry on top.

How would you describe a person who's so hard to get a read on?
How could you tell what he's thinking?

Indeed, it's confusing. Frustrating, even.
Being clouded with these thoughts can take hours,
and hours before it clears out.
It's because you crave for an answer.

Where is it?

It's inside his head. A place where you cannot enter.

And you're left alone.
Standing in front of that box covered with a mantle of red velvet.
Attracted, curious, excited, frustrated.

Prejudiced.

The Pressure of Perfection

Isn't it annoying when people expect a lot from you? Especially when you think like you'll never be good enough. Oftentimes, you're suffocated, you're always competitive, you feel alone, and once you fuck things up, you're as good as dead.

I'm a human being who still has a lot to learn about life. I'm young. I don't want to be kept inside a cage where people can just throw rocks at me while telling me not to shout and cringe in pain. It's hard to deal with this kind pressure--the pressure of perfection.

I see life differently. I interpret things in the most colourful ways possible. I'm extra sensitive, and I think I'm turning bipolar. Don't they see it's not healthy?--to be reminded that "I'm their last chance" and "I'm their last hope"? Seriously. I'm just in college. What could happen. HAHA suuuure. But come on. I'm not that kind of person. I have morals and principles that I (so far, and will) stick to.

People make mistakes. Sure, they have bad effects, but we learn from them. They're merely temporary situations. As human beings, we are resilient. We are able to heal with time. Though time alone is tantamount to the bitter reality we have to face, it's still our choice whether to look at it from the positive or negative side.

It's what we can do to make our time useful. Like what I said waaaay back, it's what we do with the pain we feel. We always have a choice.

Yeah, I know.

"You're getting fat."

Seriously. I do not want to go back to how I was back in 2010 (more than 125 lbs.). Damn this. HAHAHA my roommate saw me while I was taking my pants off a while ago and she said, "Hey, your thighs are getting kind of big."

Fuck. =)) I already got down to 109 two months ago. And now, I feel like I'm back to 115, which is the weight where I do not want to be in because from there, I know it's going to get harder because there will be a tendency to eat more because I DO NOT FUCKING KNOW. I mean, I know how my body works. And I can sort of estimate my weight even though I don't have a weighing scale because I used to weigh a lot. Like, A LOT. When I wake up in the morning, before I sleep, after I take a dump, yeah. All the time. I know, TMI. But whatever, it's not like the whole world reads my blog. =)))

Ugh. Okay. This is it. I will go back to the way I was a few months ago starting TOMORROW, November 14, 2012. This is it, Junessa. HAHAHAHA.

I'll just lose all this fucking fat first before I hit the gym. Bleh.

Seriously, I don't even know how I got down to 109 before. Damn. I wasn't even trying. I'm not bragging, but I didn't even notice it. I already thought I was eating a lot before, but now.. I seriously feel like my skin is thicker, I feel heavier and basically, I just feel and look fat.

Logic

This is not helping.

To the people who keep giving me advice, thank you. But what I don't understand is, you guys keep telling me to do things that (supposedly) won't hurt me.

I wonder how that feels. I wonder how much hurt I can take in.

If you look at it from my perspective, your curiosity would act up real bad because you don't have "first hand experience". How would I learn if I haven't experienced it yet? I will remain oblivious to the truth. I will forever be prejudiced by my own friends'/family's opinions. How will I learn to trust my own instincts.

I know getting hurt is not exactly something to look forward to, or something I should be happy about. I just want to learn. I want to feel it for myself. Call me a sadist, but, i'd rather hurt than be numb forever.

And what happens if I get hurt for real after being sheltered from everything? Won't that be worse?

I don't fucking know. Whatever. Fuck this.

Should I keep going and find out my limits? Or should I just stop because everyone says so?

Ugh, talk about peer pressure. HAHA.

Trichotillomania

Well, it's a disease. Concerning hair. Haha. It's like the next level of hair pulling/twirling. I'm undiagnosed, but like a normal person who's concerned for her own health, I googled. =)) AND OF COURSE. All the symptoms are there. It's pretty weird.

I usually twirl and pull a section of my hair near my nape, behind my right ear. I twirl and I twirl until I feel satisfied, then I eventually pull the bunch of hair I ended up making. SUPER WEIRD. I don't know why I do it though. It's just an unconscious habit (ironically) that I do whenever I'm sitting or when I'm doing nothing. Oftentimes, my mom just pulls my hand away from my head, and that's only the time when I realize that I'm already doing it.

When that bunch of twirled hair is totally out of control, I take off my hair tie and I loosen the knots, tie my hair again and twirl again. So. Fucking. Weird. Sometimes it hurts because the knots are really tight and I end up pulling a few strands.

That's why most of the time, I prefer my hair untied in order to avoid doing that in public. Because it really is a weird sight o__o I look crazy. HAHAHA. But I end up twirling the ends of my hair just to satisfy the supposedly "unconscious" urge.

They say it's related to stress and OCD. Now that I think about it, I do think about a lot of shit which stresses the fuck out of me. Maybe that's where my over-thinking comes in. I'm not an OC person though. At least I think so. I mean, who doesn't want their things in order? :\ Of course I have to fix my shit so I know where everything is.

Sooooo yeah, I don't know why I'm writing about this. It's 1:15AM here in the Philippines. I can't sleep.  I watched a dance competition a while ago at DLSU. I miss dancing a lot even though I'm no good at it. I usually look like an awkward duck. In my perspective. Welp. Sad life.

And then I saw something I didn't like a few days ago. Hm. It's making me think twice about whatever this is. It's like, when will I ever be good enough. When will you notice me. I don't really give a flying fuck anymore, and I'm just gonna go with the wind. I guess this is better.

Friends

Sometimes we fail to realise that we're such blessed beings. I remember this one time back when I was still in elementary, my sister was the one driving the car, and I was in the passenger's seat. I looked out the window and I suddenly had this random thought: Isn't it cool that we're alive? Like, we get to breathe, think, and walk on our own two feet?

I don't know how and why I came up with that thought. But nevertheless, whenever I look back, I'm glad I thought about it because it changed me.

Well how about realising the fact that you're surrounded by amazing people who treat you like family?--people who make you feel at home, and happy, and warm.

Yesterday was just amazing. For the first time ever, in my whole, entire life, one of my classmates told me that his first impression on me was that I'm nice and I'm someone he can easily talk to and hang out with. MIND. FUCKING. BLOWN.

Let me tell you something about myself. I look like I'm always about to kill someone whenever I don't smile, or when I'm just sitting and staring off into space. HAHA well that's one way to put it. Most people think I'm such a bratty little bitch who snobs everyone she supposedly knows.  But I still think it's because of my semi-thin eyebrows.

FALSE. At least half-false. Or whatever. I'm only that bitchy when someone fucks with me.

So okay. That made my day. I mean helloooo. That was THE first time someone said that about me.

Just a little background on my next "encounter with good people":

There was one time, when me and a couple of my friends were waiting for our next class, I found out that one of them had a cold. After I gave him medicine, he was sort of blowing his nose (or idk) and I saw that his fucking booger landed on his shoulder. My reflexes kicked in, and I tapped it off his shirt. He looked at me and said, "KULANGOT KO YUN HAHAHAHA (that was my booger)" and we all laughed. HAHAHA FUCK. And I simply said, "okay lang 'yan. Kaibigan naman kita. (That's okay. At least you're my friend.)"

Okay, back to the day with many "encounters with good people":

Later that evening, my barkada (group of friends) and I decided to go out for drinks after class. I like doing that. Hanging out, chilling, being with people whom you're comfortable with. Anyway, when one of my friends was drunk, he told me that the time I took his booger off his shirt, he knew that I was a "badass" friend/good person. Like, if ever I want him to beat someone up, he'd be there right away and he'd always have my back.

Seriously. I had to stop the fucking tears from springing out of my eyes because that was just so fucking touching. You know what they say, "the most honest people are drunk ones". I mean, DAMN. People like him still exist? ANOTHER MIND-BLOWN MOMENT. And not to mention, I have my period so I'm currently suffering from PMS, which makes me extra emotional. So when he said that, it took every fibre of my being to stop myself from crying. At that moment, I just felt happy, content, and it seemed like nobody can fuck my life up anymore.

I'm a happy little girl now.

And speaking being a "little girl", guess what. I'm still the youngest in our circle of friends. HAHA FOREVER BUNSO. They were calling me "shobe" (I think it's Chinese for "little sister") while they were accompanying me back to my dorm. Haha it's a pretty cute pet name (haha dafuq), but I keep remembering SHOMBA. So, okay.

I love my friends. They're all cool beans.

Therapy

You hear people say "respect your parents" a lot. We even learned that in school as part of our Christian Living classes where we needed to memorize the Ten Commandments. What if you know it by heart, but you can't practice it?

*commence the sob story*

My father is a descendant of Satan. HAHA just kidding. Basically, he's cruel, inhumane, dirty, and greedy. He's all about having a ton of money, and having a ton of women to fuck. I mean, he's overly generous when it comes to his dick. Once you talk about money with him, he acts like he's such a poor, humble faggot.

His "being a father" logic goes like this:

Once you graduate… Bye bye.

I have no (moral) obligations concerning you after that.

If you come back begging for help from me, I will treat you as if my own blood doesn't run through your veins, and yes, for the nth time, I will not help you.

If you beg one more time, my being "merciful" will be a privilege for you but it will expire after around, let's say, one month. After that, bye bye again.

If you starve to death, it won't be my fault, and my conscience won't be affected.

Welp. That's my dad right there.

So I had a pretty normal childhood. Well, depends on how you define "normal". I didn't grow up having a dad, and that's why I respect my mom so much because she endured everything, up until now. And then he suddenly popped out of nowhere last Christmas, and I had a fucked up brain since then to the point that my mom thought I was possessed, and my sisters thought I needed "help" due to the mental breakdown I had a couple of months back.

At first I couldn't handle the pressure of him being there--so close. I mean, after almost.. Idk, 10923918237 years without him BOOM, HELLO I'M HERE. I just got caught off guard. Eventually, I learned how to be passive. I'm not saying I'm completely "there" yet. I get affected every once in a while, but that's because I care.

That's it. I care about this family, and how we can survive without him. The feeling of being free from his hands and not relying on HIS money to live, will be the ultimate revenge we can have on him.

Our family can still be called a family even without him. Like I said, if he died, we'd even throw a party (and everyone's invited hahaha). Although I sometimes envy some of my friends who have no issues with their parents. Especially with their fathers.

You have no idea how lucky you are if you and your whole family can…

… go out and have worry-less fun.

… talk about anything without ending up having a lecture or even a fight.

… just be together, eat dinner, and watch TV.

… be normal.

How I wish for normalcy. But I guess, this is the norm. People just don't think right these days. They all get their judgements wrong. Admit it though, sometimes, it's hard to tell what's right from what's wrong. Bad things are disguised in pretty things we perceive as "good". Like sex. Loljk. But srsly.

I just hope we can get through this. I hope we can be strong enough despite the future lawsuits we'll eventually have to face. I think. Haha.

For now, I'm just trying to distract myself. The one and ONLY thing I liked about the piles of shit my dad told me a few days ago, is how he emphasised the fact that I shouldn't go home for a while (because I live in a dorm right now for college) because things are going cray over there.

OKAY THEN HAHAHA I'll just go and have the time of my life studying here. And yes, I do care about studying. And occasional drinking. And friends.

This is where I feel normal--here in Manila. This is my new home. Though I do get anxiety attacks (loljk) due to over thinking about what's happening back at my real home (QC) and it's kind of hard to talk to people about this without them thinking I'm an attention whore or if I should just stfu. Well, that's why I write instead.

I still feel pretty paranoid about reverting to my old self, and how I dealt with past issues (which is one big, fucked up blur). But I'm trying to help myself get better as well.

Here's to kids with fucked up families, but who do care about it.