What can take me to the outer space... take me to another world where all is but a beautiful magic?
♥BOOKS can!♥
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
17 Dreams. 17 Things.
In 17 Years.
Tic-tac. Tic-tac. The clock goes… the rain pours… the window opens… and a girl awakens.
It was 12 midnight and the whole place was bounded by silence and was doomed with the patting of the raindrops in the window glasses and roof. Thunders rumbling like giant rocks rolling over the ground, lightning flickers all over the dim skies and dark clouds…“No… no… no… this is just a dream!” the girl squealed in horror as she opened her wide eyes, sweat filled her whole three-angled face. She dashed her thick purple blanket and rushed outside her bedroom, bringing herself in great terror as the rumblings succeeded into louder and heavier vigor. But the strong winds closed the door and left her with a bang. In panic, she crawled down on the floor and crept into the table. A dark, big, and thick-furred monstrous shadow appeared on the wall as she hid herself under a table in a corner of the room. She closed her eyes and placed her hands on both side of her ears. In a nick of time, the horrific creature disappeared and the grumbling of the thunders and lightning stopped, and the heavy downpour ceased from falling onto the earth.
12 midnight from the day of October first. I woke up from a dreadful dream like when I was still seven, and then I realized, it’s already the 2nd of October.
I climbed down from the deck and turned the lights on. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands and blinked many times before finally heading to the table and grabbed a seat from behind and sat. I was horrified by that dream, not because I was afraid of the creepy creature, but I was worried about what that little girl could’ve been if my dream continued. Why did I not fear? That’s one thing I am supposed to know. But through the mistiness and solemnness of the night, I couldn’t help but just stare at the empty space and think of anything that would pop up into my mind.
The first thing came out to my mind, was that, at this very moment, at this very minute of the night, I have just turned 17… then another thought came out again. The second thought was kind of a bizarre.
Not in the sense that I didn’t think of it before, but it was actually the first time that I started counting and enumerating my dreams, and I realized, my dreams are too much, and too good to be true.
I sat idly in the white plastic chair where I laid my legs and stretched it to the other chair ahead, facing me. I grabbed my headphone from a cabinet beside me and that old-fashioned mp4 that hang at the end of the headphone wire as it was reeled into it. I turned it on and the music started playing. Slowly, I closed my eyes and began imagining my dreams. Well, sometimes, we couldn’t dream of our dreams if we don’t think of it, so by this time, I really did think of it, but I never have fallen asleep, honestly.
It is my dream to be a pianist…
It is one of the many frustrations I have in my life. I want to play my fingers with the keys and make a very wonderful harmony out of it. I want to hear the sound of it as I press my fingers unto keys.
I am taking up a course I never had in mind since birth or --- ever in my life! It was just when I came to the school I'll be studying that my father thought of having me taking up the course. Recently, I was thinking I am slowly liking my course, but then it was then things turned odd. very odd and Im very very tired of being like that every now and then. Do you know the feeling of being - ignored? I know everyone, even the Hollywood artists, have experienced something like this, but this is -- urgh! Nah, forget it.
Well, I am an aspiring writer, I want to write and my strength is i guess in there. It's where I think i excel. But just these past few days, I realized, I can pursue a course I am not really familiar with, and yet, not losing grip to what i really love to do. It has been my dream to become a lawyer. Yes, and last day, I was wearing a lawyer-like attire. And i thought, 'hey, i want to wear this everyday. And i have read a lot of books whose authors are actually lawyers, but currently full-time writing again. So,somehow, I was enlightened in a sense. Well in my course, I can proceed to law. So I can still do it. Well, If i have enough money for financial stability.
Friday, September 16, 2011
I love to be always involved in things that I love to do. Extra -curricular activities, study group, organizational meetings and assembly, writing organizations and stuff like that. But then, time came I felt like, Hey, I think I need to take a BREAK. Sometimes, I wish time would stop, so I can rest for awhile without the things and time changing and moving. Like, everything will freeze and only me will be able to know the predicament.
I have been very busy since the start of the September month. I know what keeps me busy of course. School works, papers and all. It sucks.Yes, I don't want to say that it does, but things make me kind of paranoid of what to do, what time it is and where i should be at the moment. Something like I have forgotten to look at myself in the mirror and comb my hair for some couple of strokes before doing stuff. But then, I couldn't make the world stop, I couldn't freeze everything like villains or heroes in movies do.
So before I wait for a hundred of years to make the world stop, maybe I should leave now and start doing all these crazy stuff!
Saw this a couple of days ago. Thought I should share.
by Rosemarie Urquico
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’sUlysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
I still remember the look painted on a girl’s face when she first set a foot on the high school where she’d spend four years of her studying. The sunlight was beaming and the rays drew slightly upon her innocent appearance as she walked down the pathway in the morning of her first day of class. Different thoughts, expectations, and feelings had wrapped her that day that made her venture a portrait of a freshman with so much wonderings in pursuit of the answers she needed with questions she had in her mind.
What could be my life in here? Who will I be with for those years? Will I be better in here? Will enjoy my stay in here? Will I meet new friends? Will I have more learning about the complex battle we call life? Will I be able to know myself and my wants better? Should I befriend our teachers? Or should I impress them instead? Will I flunk Math? Or will I excel in English? Will my teachers be greedy with grades? Will they be like dragons? Will I have a best friend? Who would it be? These are the questions one will ask somehow.
I was once like her. I have portrayed a picture like that before, way back four years ago…
In high school, you wake up early for a 7:30 class in the morning and a flag ceremony earlier than that. If you’re late, you pick up garbage around the campus; do your own flag ceremony together with your co- late comers under the extreme heat of the sun. You complain, but in the end, you realize it’s your fault. You have daily quizzes, a bunch of homework to do that cause you to stay up until late at night. Here comes the next day, you submit your assignment and you turn green and blue knowing that you have answered the homework that is not given by your teacher. (Good you have your own teacher in mind!) Your teacher reprimands you and throws you those sickening evil eyes.
Then you have Math class before lunch, your stomach starves to death, and you look at the board. The numbers seem to be the delicious and mouth-watering food… like the nuggets in number shape! Slowly, you begin to imagine eating while a serious discussion is going on, then poof! Quiz right away! How would you do that? Have your tongue hangin’ with your mouth wide open.
After you have a very fine lunch, another class follows then. What exactly do you do by that time aside from listening to your teacher? Well, let’s exclude “listening to your teacher”, cause most probably, we don’t really listen. You can hardly concentrate because your eyes want to shut… drowsiness strikes you down. Body position, lazybones, get started! Fire up for an expedition into the world of dreams! Muse about your crush… about you being a rock star… or eating again that delicious food… or a dream about you being chased by some dogs and trolls in the jungle! That’s quite exciting.
When you finally get back into the real world, you get sweat all around your face and everyone begins to laugh at you for making somewhat a pond in your arm chair. (You get what I mean?)
Lastly, after dismissal, you get a hold with the witch’s broom and start sweeping the floor, apply floor wax, and arrange the chairs because you are one of the cleaners assigned for that day.
That’s high school routine… but that’s not high school life.
High school life, in many ways, is one of the best parts of anyone’s life. It’s when you try to unfold the gifts given to you by the Almighty. You begin to discover many things about yourself. You begin to unleash the talents you’ve been hiding. It’s when you begin to become independent in a way, become a little snotty girl and boy no more. It’s when you get to involve yourself and share secrets to life’s colors we call friends. It’s when you begin to have swoon-worthy crushes and tell yourself that, beyond doubt, you are finally falling in love! And somehow, it’s when you gain half of your freedom form your parents; you turn out to be accountable of yourself in some instances and you become a responsible individual in so many ways.
In the morning, when you’re late and you have a friend who is one of the SSG officers, you speak through your smile for a friendly favor, and then your punishment gets lighter. (Way to be a friendly government, uh? *Sorry guys!)
When you have tons and tons of homework to do, friends come over and help you whether in group or pair. And sometimes, you get so lax about Math headaches ‘cause the Math wizard’s sitting beside you. (What if gossip witches are beside you?) And during quizzes, you’re not facing the battle alone. Take glances to the right, left, front and even side views, and you get a share of someone’s overflowing brains which then boils down to the term, “share your blessings” and not “cheating”.
In your class before lunch, don’t worry about your hungry tummy. You can tell you’re your teacher you need to buy a pen or whatever in the canteen. On your way back to the class, make sure you eat the snack you bought or keep it your pocket so as not to get caught if you can’t finish it. When you’re inside the class already, be ready to show a pen of a kind of newly-bought look. Then you can start eating food secretly during discussion. (That’s what I used to do before but I’m not telling you to follow my tips all the time!)
When you feel like sleeping, don’t worry, it’s not just you because mostly, a friend even leans in your back or shoulder just to take a power nap. See? You’re not alone in Dreamland!
No teacher around?
“She’s on a seminar!” “They have a meeting!” “She’s got a headache!” “He’s handling a case between two students!” These are little good news to students that make them yell “Hurray!” It’s senseless but yes, it’s true. Even if you go to school to learn, somehow you’d wish you won’t have a class even in just a subject so you can while away the pressure over something in school.
Then, in no time, you start making your classroom a playground. Some play hand games, some do spelling on the board, some sing, some talk about their future, some run and throw crumpled paper to each other, some eat, some listen to music, some tell and listen to scary stories, some chitchat about Hollywood and Disney teen stars, some go over texting or calling on mobile phones, some watch movie in their laptop, some read, some write, some laugh out loud over a hilarious joke, some quarrel while some try to fix love problems, and some just choose to go to dreamland in a deep sleep with all the noise around. Then the president stands up to command for silence, but then she sits back to where she is seated because no one can hear her. You all get happy together and do crazy stuff together, be it on a clique or with yourself as long as you’re in one roof and in one same room. You look like families stuck in one house, different attitudes, religions, personalities, but you still get along with each other. You do all these together and you get punished altogether.
During dismissal time, you get busy asking for face powder, borrowing combs or hair brushes, mirrors and all. And then you race to the back part of the room to get brooms and buffers with your friends and you clean the classroom together as if you’re playing. And again, after the whole cleaning thing, you put powder on your face; comb your hair and the likes. Then you go home together … laugh in the cab on your way home, you sing and the driver smiles for having a free radio with local artists singing out of tune. J
That’s high school life… Though I have not experienced all of those, I came to see and witness them… And it’s funny reminiscing how we made all those stupid yet memorable things. That was US… Me with Friends.Classmates.Batchmates in our dear Alma Mater. That was my high school life.
High school life, I became a lady finally… but not totally ‘cause even now, I still act like a kid. I have had a lot of first-times and first this and that in there.
It’s when…
I first know how to write.
I wrote my first story.
I made my first song.
I had my first girl best friend.
I had my first dance in Prom (Of course!)
I had my first time to join some kind of beauty search? (hahaha.lol)
I first met my first Hollywood idol!
I first met my first Hollywood crush!
I had my first boyfriend.
I had my first heart break.
I had my first time experience to ride a boat!
And where I had first experience the “real world.”
Some of you might have the same first and first-times in life… and to some; it all starts in high school. You might even have had in here the first time you tasted a shot of that bitter-sour-sweet-strong drink we call gins and alcohol. But hey, I have never tried that. Honestly, my friends, specifically my classmates, told me once to try a glass of wine, but when I tried to see/read the label, it contained some percent of alcohol so I refused to drink it. I drank two glasses of orange juice, instead. Well don’t take me as an ignorant or kill joy; I just have made promise that I wouldn’t until the right time comes. When is the right time? My answer? I will know when it comes. xD
We can’t deny these things… whether inside or outside the campus experiences, because basically, they are part of the high school world… the high school life reality. Things become memorable when they are done with happiness, love and fun… And soon they become part of the history… our history. Eventually, your yesterday lingers up to the day you read this, and then, it befits your today. Memories link us to our past, ‘cause it’s the memories that bring back life to our experiences, clear, and sometimes… colored.
In high school, you don’t just get tougher and competitive, nor knowledgeable and responsible, but you become most significantly, one’s glistening colors in life as a great friend, as a piece of one’s heart.
High school life, though short-lived in four years, becomes too long for great and wonderful memories shared to one another. And with hopes, may the friendships built through those years bloom as we embark into life’s long journey in our own destinations and roads to take.
And then, another journey awaits ahead of us... the life after HIGH SCHOOL.
Waking up one day and finding a guy whom you never knew in your house, visiting you, was quite surprising. It was a rainy and misty morning when this guy, whose name was Samuel, came to see me in our house. I didn’t know what he wanted from me. But the minute I told him to leave, he was saying that he saw me in the party I attended last night. Fresh in his mind, he narrated to me how enchanted he was when he saw me play my guitar and sing there in the dark shade of a blossom tree in the backyard of my friend’s house who threw the party.
How can he ever recognize me if I was in the dark shadow of a tree? My shirt, he told me. According to him, he saw me last night up in our balcony, playing my guitar, wearing the same shirt. Well, basically, I know how to play one, and sing, but I’m certainly not the one he saw there like what he was saying. When I showed some signs of irritation, he left then.
But that wasn’t the end of his pestering; he followed me once in a coffee shop and tried to get my attention, as well as my humor. So I told him I was really that girl he was looking for. He was a handsome teen, the guy every girl would die to go out with. Perfect figures, his blue eyes, killer smile, pretty nose, and his white skin. But at that moment, all I could notice was his emotions. From his good looks, there lie many fears and weaknesses. And then, as time went by, I felt comfortable being with him. I thought arrogance ruled inside him, I thought gentleness was never a part of him, but then, I was wrong.
All the days of summer, I was just hanging out with him until one day, during a picnic with my best friend, and his cousins, near the lake, something happened. I was sitting at the edge of the bridge’s end, hanging my thighs n the air. I was thinking about him, about Sam. He was all I had in my mind the whole summer; he was all I could think of. He came into my life perfectly, but I came into his in the wrong way.
Suddenly, he sat beside me, and for a moment, in the middle of the hanging bridge, there was a complete silence. He was staring at me, but I never dared to look at him and realize that I’m starting to fall for him. Slowly, he bowed down and got something from his pocket. To my surprise, he held my hands for the first time!
“I guess it’s time for me to give back to you something you’ve lost and something I kept for some couple of weeks, here”, he put the bracelet in my wrist, and “this bracelet is yours, right? I found that the night you stole my heart”, he said. I couldn’t answer him yes, so I just nodded with teary eyes.I lied to him again.
Then he stood up, still holding my hands, and helped me stand. “I want to ask you something. The night I heard your voice, saw you play guitar from the dark, was the night you stole and owned my heart. Now, I want to own your heart, too. Monique, will you be the music in my soul?” he asked me. Hearing him say those words made me feel guilty like I was a felon because I’m not supposed to be that girl. But I don’t want to break his heart for I already love him, and I don’t want to lose him.
“Yes, yes, Sam. Yes”, I cried in guilt and in gladness. He hugged me, and lifted me up into the air for that moment; all I knew was that I am irrevocably in love with him.
Days passed by, and a call came by the phone. It was him, telling me to meet with him in the park right away. So I went there in no time and saw him with the very unusual look in his face. He asked me directly if the bracelet was mine, it was a tough question, you know. When I didn’t answer, he asked once more, wrathfully. I don’t know if the tears flowing down my cheeks would indicate and tell him the answer. It seemed like he really wanted me to speak. So I did.
“Okay, this bracelet isn’t mine. And I… I am not the girl you saw that night. I’m so sorry, Samuel, I’m not your Cinderella. But believe me-“.
“How can I ever believe in you again? You lied to me the whole summer! You fooled me! I thought you were different from them, but you’re just like any other girl out there, liar!”
And that was it. He walked away and left me crying without giving me any chance to explain. It hurt me a lot. I lied to him because I don’t want to lose him. But now, I lost him because I lied to him. If he only knew, he was the best thing that has ever happened in my life.
Two years later, I went to the hanging bridge with myself alone to forget everything about him for I thought he’d come back and listen to my explanation. I got the necklace he gave me years ago in this place, and curled it inside my fist. Now, I’m strong enough to let go of everything between me and Sam. I closed my eyes, and raised my fist to throw the necklace, but, someone caught my arm. I opened my eyes and saw him. The same figures, the same Samuel I met two years ago.
“I’m sorry, Monique, but I’m glad I was wrong,” I gulped when he uttered those words. I almost died.“Because of that mistake, I found not the Cinderella I’ve been searching for, but the girl who taught me that being wrong can be the perfect choice. You are the best thing who’s ever been mine, Monique. I, I still love you”, he finally said. My cheeks turned crimson when he held my hands and looked deep into my eyes, again. I couldn’t believe he’s back. He came back. I cried and confessed,“Sam, I… I never stopped loving you.”
There, the first kiss was the start of our everlasting bliss.
╔══╗ ♥♥ ♫ ♥♥ ║██║ ♫ ♥♥ ♫ MUSIC... IT CREATES A HARMONY THAT SUBSIDES ║(O)║♥♥♥♥ SORROWS AND FEARS... AND IT LETS ME EXPRESS THE ╚══= DEEPEST OF MY EMOTIONS AND FEELINGS... MUSIC,
AN ETERNAL PART OF ME...
ஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩۞۩ஜஜ۩
(¯`v´¯) .`·.¸.·´ ¸.·´¸.·´¨) ¸.·*¨) WORDS...THE ART OF EXPRESSING MYSELF. MY DREAM (¸.·´ ¸.·´ ¸.·´ AND PASSION, MY HOPES AND SORROWS...IS WRITING. (¸.·´ .·´¸¸.·¨¯`·. I WRITE TO BE HEARD, TO BE SEEN, TO BE FELT, TO BE ♥♥`•.¸¸.•´•:*´¨`*:•.••.¸¸. ♥♥ UNDERSTOOD... AND TO BE LOVED.
IT'S ME, AND NO ONE ELSE... YES, IT'S JUST SO ME. ♥
