This Oasis Of Mine


Hey, I’m like six days late but… oh well. I like this prompt: A sanctuary is a place you can escape to, to catch your breath and remember who you are. Write about the place you go to when everything is a bit too much.

Oh, wow. This is a toughie. Um… I go to the back of my mind? I’ve been pretty stressed out lately with school, my family and all the other typical problems that come with being a teenager. Exams are looming, meaning my teachers are hounding me – and the rest of the class – to study, revise and just do a damn good job. I’m trying to make nice-nice with the relatives, seeing as I’m holidaying over at the Philippines for Christmas break, and finally I can’t seem to deal with the people in general (typical teenage angst; O woe is me, O woe is me, blah blah blah).

It’s no wonder I seek refuge in my so-called ‘oasis’ as much as I can, practically after the end of every day. My oasis, of course, happens to be my flat. In that little studio apartment, I can just be. No coursework to worry about. No errands to do. No people to deal with. I’d have to deal with all that the moment I step back out again but, what the hell, I’m watching Supernatural and munching on mini muffins. Go away and don’t bother me, I’m in my happy place.

I listen to music as well and, on the off chance, I get into this cheerfully energetic (or energetically cheerful) and I just dance. Chill. I indulge in the pop songs I usually turn my back on.  And on a completely different note, here’s one of my favourite songs by this band called Oasis:

Appropriate, don’t you think?

If you’re a long-time reader of mine, then you’d have probably realized by now that I’m an introverted kind of gal. If you know me in real life, then you’d see that I’m as socially awkward as can be: you should see me interact with people on a day-to-day basis. I’m like a walking guidebook on what not to do if you want to function socially. Maybe that’s why I visit my sanctuary almost daily… I value these moments I get to be alone and think about things and not worry so much and woah, was Jensen Ackles just lip-syncing to Eye of the Tiger? I need this in my life!!

Jensen Ackles, Eye of the Tiger

Over and out.

Carpe Diem: An Abstract Letter


Or: A Letter to an Abstract Noun

Maybe: A Whimsical Way in Utilizing Apostrophe

Either way, I’m addressing a letter to the month December. I feel like I should, as it’s my favourite out of all the months, though I might be a tad biased because December is my birth month… and it has Christmas. And, not only does it symbolize the end of things, but it also signals in new beginnings.

I would like a few words with you, O Twelfth Month of the Gregorian Calendar. One, I’m glad you’re finally here. I’ve missed you. You’ve been gone an entire year, all right?! The other months just aren’t the same without you. You’re the busiest month for me, particularly this year, because so many things are happening and I’m half spinning out of control and half relaxed because duh it’s December.

My birthday’s coming up, of course, along with Christmas. I’m glad that I was born in this month and do you know why? It’s because I’m a relatively selfish individual yet at the same time I’m extremely shy: I would like a day dedicated to my being alive, but there’s this event at the back of peoples’ minds called Christmas and they’re all hyped up about that too. And I like thinking up of presents for people; it makes me happy. The duality of selfishness and selflessness is an endearing concept.

Also, December, this year I’m going to travel. You provide for me the concrete evidence that no, I’m not alone and yes, I do have family. I do have a culture that I can connect with. I am terribly thrilled to see my friends and family again and feel that camaraderie that seems to be missing these days. I’ve been feeling so out of sorts, you won’t believe how much I’m looking forward to a quick getaway.

December, you better not disappoint me. Yes, I know that you’re presence means January is lining up for his turn but just tell him to calm his horses, all right?! He brings the January Exams with him and I dread the days wherein I have to answer question after question after question. Who cares about inverse functions and working memory models and damn it, I know how to evaluate quotations. Just leave me be, okay? The teachers will be out to get me (and all students alike) but carpe diem, man. Carpe diem.

I have high hopes for you, December. Don’t let me down. Tell your friend November that I’m not happy with him. I feel like I’m asking too much, to be honest, but if people can dish it out on me then I can dish it out on you. It’s a horrible cycle, I know… Still.

http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_meb7epaZpX1qc0nqzo1_500.gif

I’m counting on you.

Reflection on Psychology


I remember a couple of years ago, back when I still went to Bethel International, several teachers asked my class what course they wanted to take when they went to college — yes, it’s a given that we were all going to college for high school techinically ends around the age of sixteen. Anyway, some of my classmates answered the generic oh, I want to be a lawyer/doctor/nurse and so I have to take this specific course. Me, on the other hand, had no idea what I wanted to be when I grow up. All I knew was that I wanted to write: stories, newspaper articles, film and television scripts… you name it.

Back then, I had no interests in English Literature, seeing as I had no idea what that was exactly. I figured that I read a lot of books, so that must be enough (oh, how naive I was!!). So, when asked which course I wanted to take, the first thing that came to my mind was Psychology. I’ve always been interested in how people think, why they think the way they do, and what I could do to help. Still, I knew that I was only bluffing. I really didn’t think I was going to do Psychology for college, but it was something I was really interested in.

And I was right, I didn’t take up Psychology in college. In fact, I didn’t even finish high school at all!

I moved to England a year ago, and right now I’m in the middle of my A-levels. One of the classes I’m taking is Psychology and boy, is it fun! The first ever lesson, the teacher began explaining the different approaches to psychology: Cognitive, Behaviourist, Psychodynamic and Biological. I just sat there in the corner of the room, feeling out of place because I had no background in the subject whatsoever. I was near the door, so every time my mind felt overwhelmed, I had this urge to simply up and leave. I mean really… wow. I was finally taking the psychology class I wanted.

I was over the moon. I didn’t mind the work, I didn’t mind the fact that I had to sign out of school every day because the class was being taught in a different school.

So what do I enjoy the most about the class? Is it the experiments? The upper hand in social situations because you know a little bit more about why people behave in certain ways? You’d be surprised at what I like, which is in fact the teacher’s dress code. Yup! My teacher is a nerd and it’s all because of this:

He wear a different one every day, and just today he had Captain America’s shield which was, just to say, incredibly epic. What I found really funny was that he was wearing a Union Jack flag at the time… so there he was, talking about the different kinds of experiments (field, natural and laboratory), and my mind thinking He’s wearing a totally nerdy Captain America belt buckle and a hipster-y Union Jack tie. Talk about irony! It’s things like that that makes my days really wonderful.

Oh, you gotta love irony. And psychology. Psychology is a cool class to take.

Over and out.

3 Things I Claimed To Dislike (And Now Adore)


Hello, my name is Luigi and I am a picky eater.

It’s a well known fact between my family and friends that I am picky with the food that I eat. I’ll stubbornly stick with my un-ketchup’d (is this a word?) bacon roll, and my dry rice and viands. I tend to avoid dips when eating chips — both the crisps kind and the French fry. I have this nasty habit of opting out of trying new foods.

So yeah, I’m not the adventurous type. However, with the urging of my friends, I have tried the following things I didn’t, in my wildest dreams, ever think of trying. Three are featured below.

The Strawberry

I have nothing against fruits, but they’re not exactly a food staple for me. It was only in the past year that I have conquered my juvenile fear of anything healthy and ate bananas and oranges (and veggies) whenever I can. But strawberries? Never had them in my life. Anyway, I gave them a try one night during my school’s Oscars to celebrate the year’s Media productions. They were quite large and not like the picturesque strawberries I imagined them to look like, but they were covered in chocolate and I as all what the hey, I can do this.

Suffice to say, strawberries are now one of my favourite foods. I like it so much, I even managed to find in myself the courage to try strawberry flavored yogurt. And I hate yoghurt with a passion.

I still do, actually, which brings us to…

Muller Rice

Just this morning my mother directed me to the fridge after I complained about having nothing to eat for breakfast, and she told me to have the Muller Rice she bought for herself the day before. It was apple flavored, which I found very icky because ew, apples. They hurt my teeth when I bite into them, hence the irrational dislike. Nevertheless, I had a couple of spoonfuls and have grown to love the the sweet rice pudding.

Egg Tart

Finally, this. I was resolute in my hatred of this little pastry, mainly because I have this love/hate relationship with egg. Either I like it or I hate it, and it all depends on my mood when I get offered the food — but most of the time, I hate it. However, one time my friend Polly halved a tart with me and oh. my. gosh.

It was heaven on earth.

My new favorite dessert, ladies and gentlemen!!

The Wonders of Escapism


es·cap·ism/iˈskāpizəm/

Noun:
The tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, esp. by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy.

I don’t know about anyone else but when I was a kid, school was completely separate from my personal interests: in school I learned my ABCs and arithmetic, while at home I watched television and read all the books I wanted. Growing up, those interests became a big part of my life and, as most of you know, the teenage years is the time when you question who you are as a person.

Essentially, you’re finding an identity that is wholly yours. I haven’t found mine yet (I think), but safe to say I understand where my interests lie. And it’s quite astounding, to think about it, that I can mesh my interests in Doctor Who or Harry Potter with my lessons. Because of this, I can’t view these interests as only entertainment anymore… I’ve read journals and articles about the technicalities of the show, the intricacies of character developments and their effects on its audience.

Quite frankly, it’s terrifying.

I liked having school-life and personal-life separate. It provided some sort of structure for me. But then, I came across the term ‘escapism’ and it shattered my understanding of things. I went, so this is why I like so-and-so a lot… it’s because it’s completely different from real-life. I understood that in some level, but the term made it even more real for me.

And it frightens me to know this facet of my personality, that I’d much rather prefer to dwell in an imaginary universe instead of real life. (What is real life, anyhow?)

I don’t know. Maybe I’ve spent too much time thinking about this. Maybe I’m just high from the chocolate crisps I’ve been munching on. I really don’t know. Still, I enjoy these imaginary worlds. Real life problems are so boring, aren’t they?

Over and out.

Boredom, And What It Does To You


I know there’s no need to state the obvious, but… it’s Monday. It’s Monday and I’m already bored. See? This is why I don’t like term breaks. While I appreciate the freedom from teachers and school and the general efforts to come off as a decent human being, I despise not knowing what to do.

And I always never know what to do during term breaks. I mean, it’s only the third day in and there’s only so much reblogging you can do in Tumblr. YouTube’s all well and good, but if you spend too much time there… well, your brain will turn into mush.

So yes, in the past hour or so, I’ve devised a cunning plan to cure my bored. And when I say cunning, I mean a little bit witty. What can I say? I was bored.

What happens when you have a teenager, take it’s current boredom and mix it with the irritation borne out of the inability to find a part-time job? This.

13 Reasons Why… (You Should Hire Me)

It’s a power point depicting thirteen reasons why, a shout out the current book I’m reading, you should hire me. Seriously. Check it out, I’m quite proud of it.

The Day After Wednesday and The Day Before Friday


I could never get the hang of Thursdays.

And wow, I’m giving Rebecca Black a run for her money.

I apologize in advance to Thor*, who I’m sure will be thoroughly offended, but need to share this to the world: I hate the day ThursdayIt could just be the day itself and not the fact that it’s a Thursday, or it could just be because it’s been raining on and off… either way, I’m sick of Thursdays in general. It seemed like today it was just one misstep after the other.

Want to know a (scarily) accurate account of my horrible, horrible day? Then read on, people. Just read on.

  • First things first, I woke up the bread’s gone off and so couldn’t go to school straightaway; I had to stop by McDonald’s to get myself breakfast, and my stomach was grumbling for an entire hour before I had the chance to eat.
  • I realized that it was raining the moment I stepped out the door.
  • And then my left side got splashed by a passing car.
  • Clumsy me dropped the 50p change that the cashier was handing me — I’m sure he already hates me before this incident, anyway.
  • I got splashed by a passing car AGAIN, only this time it was on my right side… and some water went int my eye. Great.
  • The first lesson on the day was Mathematics and, lo and behold, I could not wrap my head around trigonometric inequalities (or whatever it was we were discussing).
  • The Pride and Prejudice study guide that I was reading sent me into a sneezing fit. I’m now allergic to old, dusty books printed in the 70s.
  • Walking home, I tripped up the stairs and managed to squash my bucket of KFC chicken. Boo hoo for me.

So there you go. Do you still think Thursdays are fun, awesome, one-day-before-Friday-and-then-it’s-freedom days that should be celebrated and exalted??

I don’t think so.

*Thor’s day, geddit? ;D

Caine’s Arcade (Or, What A Kid Could Do With Cardboard Boxes, Imagination and Perseverance)


The answer to that question is this: $74,665.

So apparently some little kid in East LA spent his summer vacation building an arcade from just cardboard boxes and Scotch tape. Sound interesting? You bet your bottom dollar it is! Watch the video below to find out more:

Seeing Caine impact so much people by doing what he loved — and being such a kid about it! — simply brings me to get in touch with my emotions (buried deep, deep under rubble) and just go “Awww…” :3 <— see that? That’s a cutsie face. That’s what I looked like watching this documentary.

I remember when I was a kid (well, more of a kid than I am now), I used to climb into cardboard boxes and pretend I was travelling from country to country and saying hi to various family members and friends. I can also recall, very vividly, packing a rucksack and imagining that the stairs connecting the first floor to the second floor was some sort of mountain and climbing up would mean I was scaling a dangerous forest terrain… And then I’d grab the laundry basket, plop myself inside, and slide back down the stairs.

Ahh, fun times. Fun times.

If I try sliding down the stairs now, I’d most likely get a broken bone than a thrilling experience of sledging down the Alps. To be a kid again, eh? The world was limitless. For a child, you can do anything you want without leaving the safety of your den — in Caine’s case, his father’s shop.

So good on ya, Mr Caine! You’re a genius and a mighty inspiration for those who forgot the real meaning of fun. Who needs TV when you can have a cardboard box?

Nostalgia [no-stal-juh, -jee-uh, nuh-]


noun

1. a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one’s life, to one’s home or homeland, or to one’s family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time.

The thing is, I just found out from an old classmate of mine that the second batch of seniors from Bethel International School has graduated high school. If you don’t already know, his class is my old one, the one I used to be part of before I left and moved to England and I honestly feel happy for them, though I couldn’t help but feel a poignant sadness about the whole thing.

I mean, graduation. That’s like, leaving government enforced education and choosing to continue your learning further. Apart from those (slightly) overbearing parents, no one’s forcing you to go to college or university or whatever it is you want to call it. It’s your choice.

Anyway — college (or university) is a big step, and it’s a big step that I might have taken if I had decided to stay in the Philippines and just not leave. Of course, pursuing my education here in England is a valid and, arguably, the better option for me… but I miss my friends back home.

Year 2010, Junior Year

Though we weren’t the most innocent lot, I miss the naivety.

Though life was just as tough then as it is now, I miss the easiness of it.

Though I have some awesome friends here, I miss my classmates/friends/family-of-sorts.

I’m not usually this weepy (not that I’m crying or anything… I just have this ache in my chest), but I suppose looking through those old pictures in Facebook did not help. Don’t get me wrong: I like Facebook and the fact how simple it is to save memories, but can’t it stop fueling the fire?? Continue reading

Angst-y Contemplations


Ever fancied someone you know you shouldn’t?

It hurts, doesn’t it?

But it’s a good kind of hurt.

Particularly, this fancy of mine gives me hope that has nothing to do with romance and everything to do with the goodness of the world.

That’s why I’m only halfheartedly trying to move on. Because I want this little sliver of hope.

Continue reading