I am completely sleepy. And I have come to realize that a stupid computer can transform the user into a complete moron.
I guess this entry will be short. I will stop resisting stupidity and idiotry (please confirm either the presence or non-existence of this word) just this one day.
I am feeling extremely stupid right now. Posting a new blog has not been part of my plans, but then I am here doing that which was unplanned. The reason for this is that I have left my old entries (the entries which I am supposed to post NOW) at home.
My memory has both failed and hailed me in ways unaccountable. The shame and pride brought about by my memory has made and broken me much more than what is normally possible. But then it seems that only the eternal shame sticks to my senses, whereas the glory has been blown to the wind, remembered only when I am near to end my bad habit of living.
Anyway, to account for the forgetfulness which has brought me five wasted minutes of internet time, I shall now impart the thoughts which managed to occupy my head these past few days of idleness.
I have realized that I am not one to disregard the value of the breath of life, although I may be one to disregard the meaning for which the breath has been loaded and exuded. I am often left breathless (to the point of choking, such as one feels when they end their own habit–be it good or bad–of living by means of hanging their necks) due to an unfortunate sickness called asthma. A good way to exhibit this is through an example: Yesterday, I left the house early in the morning due to this sickness. I reached the pharmacy looking for my medicine, and the pharmacist was stupefied at the sight of me chocking, as if someone invisible was strangling me to death.
And now to the meaning. Some, if not most, of the time, I am staring imbecile-like into space, noting the emptiness of my life, which, by the way (well, according to those intelects who surround me), is highly insensible. I have not yet managed to end this ultimate vice of mine, although I am on the way. I should say, not only on my behalf, but also of the people by my side, that such a road is not a simple one. In fact, I cannot help but cry, as I am more often than not on the verge of quiting this path to a meaningful life.
As it seems that my words are not to be understood by anybody but me, I shall end this entry sooner than I hoped (or perhaps way later than you prayed).
As my internet hours are slowly coming to an end, I bid you, my reader, a most grateful and regretful (at parting) adieu…
Life cannnot get any better than this. These past few days have been nothing short of perfect, and the way things are going, I could not help but think that nothing can remove the joy enveloping my very soul right now.
I have been thinking about it. We either say life cannot get any better or any worse than it currently is. But how come life still manages to get worse when we think that is all the unluck that there is to it, but then it never really gets any better when we hoped against all hopes that it would? Maybe the statements “life cannot get any better or any worse than this” are jinxes meant to make us learn a certain lesson we never get to learn the right way.
And now, to apply the lesson I have learned.
Life is so good! I hope it gets better everyday!
Ü
The weather today , plus the advantages of being in a Catholic School (Feast of the Immaculate Conception), has made this day very conducive for proper and undisturbed rest. Apparently, I have seemed to lost my mind. Instead of taking a well-deserved and desperately needed rest, I have proceeded to spend my day reading the sixth book of the Harry Potter series. The book has proven itself to be a very interesting creation (although nothing compared to Dickens’ works), and I am yet to decide whether I should continue reading the novel, or start lessening my school load by studying for an expected unnanounced quiz tomorrow. I have managed to fail my last quiz, s I believe it is but best for me to study after finishing this entry. But then again, I am just human, and most of the time, we prefer the more pleasurable things over more logical and more practical things.
Back to the weather. I love this kind of weather. It is not too cod, not too hot, and a beautiful sun has still managed to make its presence known. However, I have just realized that this kind of weather is not good for my health…
–to be continued–
To rummage through one’s thought is a very tedious task. If I had a pensieve, it would have been a lot easier, but I guess my luck is not exactly something one could be extremely proud of. I have been trying to search my mind for happy thoughts and memories, and I should say that partly, the task was done in vain, and that the rest of it was successful.
Successful, because I have managed to walk away from the task remembering quite a few of the happiest moments of my life and understanding that even the simple art of remembering these moments could do wonders for my mood. In vain, since the more I try to remember the good, a lot of the bad gets remembered as well.
I have been trying extremely hard to be good-natured and sweet-tempered these past few days. I daresay it has been extremely difficult, but nevertheless fulfilling, especially on the moments of success. I have managed to find means to increase the pleasantness of my personality, but along with it comes memories I would rather leave buried at the deepest parts of my mind. I guess the best thing for me to do now is to train myself to be unaffected by the worst of my memories. And I daresay that would be as simple as making a dragon calm after saying an extremely stupid joke (where the heck did that come from?!?!).
It is a very laughable thought that the numbness I am feeling right now is not contributed, even by the smallest bit, by my crooked thoughts and emotions. I am currently using my internet hours in the library, where the airconditioner seems to want to get all of us frozen and preserved just in time for Christmas dinner.
Talking about Christmas then. The more I think about it, the more Christmas seems so far away. A lot is on my mind (including my stupid blog template, which, by the way, has come close to my wants. I just cannot seem to put the time on the right side of the screen without disturbing the other blog entries, though. Damn.), and even though peace surrounds the city, my mind is in the exact opposite state of silence. Turmoil is but nothing less than a best friend to me right now. Yet somehow, I guess I am doing better today than I did the week before last.
Christmas will be quite sad for one of my dearest friends. Her father will be buried tomorrow, and she made sure to show her disappointment in the thought of having her first Christmas without her father. The things she shared with me yesterday has disturbed me, but then again, a lot of things do disturb me. One of the things which disturb my mind the most is my job as a friend. It is fulfilling, but then again, it has to bring with it some disadvantages, too. Sadness is but a normal company in such situations where friendship is tested the most. But I am not complaining. I am far from fretting about it. I am merely saying that I am disturbed.
On love. Oh, love, love, love. It is but one of the smartest and most idiotic things there is. I am not yet a victim. Well, I do not think I am. In the case of love, I believe that the biggest question lies on the detection of whether one has already become a victim or not.
I have realized that hoping is a task of a fool and that waiting is the job of the worthless. It may seem downright mean and highly uncivil to others, but my views remain so until further developments on my current situation should lead to a dramatic change of heart.
Humans have been built with an extraordinary instinct to leave marks on the places they have been to. This indicates the ultimate power we have of fulfilling anything, even the most impossible task. I am slowly traversing this kind of path: a path where rooms for error are highly unwanted. But then I have realized that I am no better than other human beings since I still succumb to the fear brought about by the unknown. But not anymore. I will show them. I will show him. I will show everyone just the kind of things I am made of, and there will be nothing that could stop me. Not now, and not ever.
I have been reading most of my old entries from my other blogs. I was planning on transferring all of them to this blog, but something at the back of my head is telling me that I should be selective about the blog entries which I wish to be seen publicly.
My very first blog entry was dated back on May 13, 2003 (in crazylife). Most of the entries I have on that blog is concerned with my weight, and that blog has been a witness to the further crookedness my thinking has experienced, despite the enormous weight loss I have undergone. Now that I have gained some weight again, I am very scared of reading the entries I have made way back almost 3 years ago. Those entries might trigger me badly, and I might mess up my mind more (by the way, my mind is already so messed up, any more messing up will be the ultimate ticket for a lifetime vacation at a mental institution).
I have managed to transfer most of my livejournal entries (I have not had the courage to transfer two of the longest entries. Again, they are about my weight concerns.). I have been looking for my pisayweb entries, but that site seems to have been removed from the world-wide web. I remember some of the entries I have posted on that site, and I wish I could find them again. Most of the entries I have made on that site was about the fun and joy I felt about being alive. I should experience more of that. I need to remember that life is not about being the best, but about being alive and well. I should stop being pessimistic. And I will. I have made my choice, and I do, do pray that it will all go according to plan.
I have always considered mysel to be unafraid of death. To explain this further, I shall refer to situations wherein I have even nearly brought death upon myself. Death is a thing most natural, for after all, we all die in the end. Sometimes, it seems as if dying was the only thing I have ever lived for.
But the lack of fear was mainly caused by the ignorance with which I have managed to ignore in unacceptable ways. Menchie’s father just passed away, and I remember Ken telling me that Rob’s father has just passed away too. With these situations, I have come to realize that death is the worst and stealthiest of all thieves, and at the same time, a freedom hero. Death has never scared me before because I have only looked at it where it is knocking at my door, not as a thief, but as a hero: MY hero. Knowing that it is just as good as a theif as it is a hero, it has finally dawned on me that it could take away the lives of those whom I love most. The realization of this fear confirmed things, quite good in nature, about me, which I never thought I had. One of which is the disproved supposition that I am not capable of loving. The twist that has finally attached itself to this supposition is that I am capable of loving, much more than I thought I could. It is just that I am not yet that capable of showing it.