Hello again, dead arachnids in the imploding web. I think I might write in metaphors again, to reorient myself to blogging, which I plan to do more this month. That should reverse the fact that my life as a fourteen year-old has been ridiculously dull lately. I haven't finished a book since July and I have a stupid video out wherein I was dancing with my friends. I have never touched the topic of my wench-like friends, have I?
You are in luck, bug buddy. I'm feeling generous about my flashing spite. To the school's population, I'm one of those annoyingly 2-dimensional people which basically means that 1. You can make assumptions against me, and 2. Said assumptions can actually be both accurate and precise. The telltale sign for being 2-dimensional is when people have one word for you, be it a noun or an adjective, and it never changes.
I've forever and always been the quiet girl in AA. I'm that passive girl who'd rather get her wallet raped than be cornered in the CSS, and I'm that girl with the Stabilo highlighter you could use up as you please. I can walk around the school unaccompanied and I borrow withering books from the satellite library like that's normal. These are a few of the factors why I couldn't wait to get to college and dump this super-predictable high school suckiness. The things inherent to me attracted the shallowest sort of people in all of humanity, and these are my friends.
They've got minuscule versions of everything I hate, from sleazy pop music to poor social networking, and even severe cases of academic slack. Yet I still cling on to them because if I don't flaunt my awkward ass like they do, I'm left with nothing, no moral support and no ticket to see my Kapatiran sister and her crew. Inevitably, I question God if I'll ever be detached from Shaira's cobweb. I question God a lot but that's the resounding prayer. I'm not an existentialist but at the same time, I don't believe that God has some plan for everybody. My being with those wench-like creatures is purely the fault of human error and not God's will, like sin itself.
At least I've got one friend who agrees with me in all this. I'm glad to say that by the end of this month, if I move fast enough, I might add one more person to my list of one. I'd like you to know what makes her immensely and substantially likable but blogging about her would only decrease the possibility of her name taking up a serious part of my life so I'll cap this bottle of lonely merriment. In any case, it's a less Lady GaGa-like future I'm looking at.
You are in luck, bug buddy. I'm feeling generous about my flashing spite. To the school's population, I'm one of those annoyingly 2-dimensional people which basically means that 1. You can make assumptions against me, and 2. Said assumptions can actually be both accurate and precise. The telltale sign for being 2-dimensional is when people have one word for you, be it a noun or an adjective, and it never changes.
I've forever and always been the quiet girl in AA. I'm that passive girl who'd rather get her wallet raped than be cornered in the CSS, and I'm that girl with the Stabilo highlighter you could use up as you please. I can walk around the school unaccompanied and I borrow withering books from the satellite library like that's normal. These are a few of the factors why I couldn't wait to get to college and dump this super-predictable high school suckiness. The things inherent to me attracted the shallowest sort of people in all of humanity, and these are my friends.
They've got minuscule versions of everything I hate, from sleazy pop music to poor social networking, and even severe cases of academic slack. Yet I still cling on to them because if I don't flaunt my awkward ass like they do, I'm left with nothing, no moral support and no ticket to see my Kapatiran sister and her crew. Inevitably, I question God if I'll ever be detached from Shaira's cobweb. I question God a lot but that's the resounding prayer. I'm not an existentialist but at the same time, I don't believe that God has some plan for everybody. My being with those wench-like creatures is purely the fault of human error and not God's will, like sin itself.
At least I've got one friend who agrees with me in all this. I'm glad to say that by the end of this month, if I move fast enough, I might add one more person to my list of one. I'd like you to know what makes her immensely and substantially likable but blogging about her would only decrease the possibility of her name taking up a serious part of my life so I'll cap this bottle of lonely merriment. In any case, it's a less Lady GaGa-like future I'm looking at.
The best night of my life was exactly one year ago, in some place, in some city, with some friends, and some musicians. I've never felt as big as I did that night, and the least I could do is to commemorate it with a blog post, even if I seem to be the only one (of the four of us) aware it's been a year since we ran down escalators past the never-ending crowd of rabid fan girls to have a glimpse of the unattainable. I'm laughing at the memory. That was about the stupidest thing I got into last year, but at the same time, I had the most fun.