![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
wordcoatedlens's journalLog in Create a LiveJournal Account Learn more
| You are viewing wordcoatedlens's journal Log in Create a LiveJournal Account Learn more | Explore LJ: Life Entertainment Music Culture News & Politics Technology |
 | |
|
Flats. Flats are cute. Flats are flat. Flats are in. Flats... ARE GUILTY OF FOOT MASSACRE. The back of my feet, specifically, look mercilessly battered. I try not to wear these little monsters anymore, but there are just some tops that cannot be worn with just my chucks. Before leaving the house today, I stared at those black flats speckled with sparkly bead thingers that perfectly matched the clothes I was wearing. It looked so innocent. So. Damn. Innocent. So I, the brilliant person that I was, grabbed them and walked out of the house with a stupid grin on my face. It was such a promising day; starting it with a reunion with my high school friends. I did a lot of walking since I commuted. It was all good. Had lunch with them, did some catching up, laughed, let them squeeze the sanity off my brain to make it soup. So after lunch, I walked going to school. I still felt fine until I climbed up the foot bridge. I suddenly felt familiar sharp pains on the back of my feet. I stopped when I got to the top of the stairs and peeked behind my right foot. Then the left. Then at my s-cubed [shiny shimmery stupid] flats. Frustrating. Lo and behold: two new spots on my skin were just scraped off by these babies. And you thought heels could kill. ----------------------------------- |
|
| |
|
I wish I lived in Neverland. When I was a little kid, my pastime was watching Barney as well as Disney movies. I loved Barbie and collecting stickers. Lisa Frank was my favorite. I would go to my gramps's place every weekend and in the afternoon, he would sneak me into his room and show me his secret drawer filled with candy and neat toys. We would watch Discovery Channel together or the tennis French Open while he bounced me up and down on his knee. Later on, my siblings, and I would wrestle and try to pin him down. The brawl would often turn into a tickling marathon, and we would end up lying on the bed, all exhausted from laughter. That was the time the old man would open our minds and take us into a world of fantasy. He would narrate short stories like Jack and the Beanstalk, The Three Little Pigs, and Goldilocks and The Three Bears. I loved the chalks he used to buy us. My siblings and I would use them to draw random things on the floor of the garage and play piko with our helpers. Sometimes, after a tiring session of touchball, my sister and I would run back into the house, and we would be lured by the sweet smell of Lola's freshly baked Sherry cake. We would rush into the kitchen, hoping that Lola saved the mixing bowl she used so we could eat the remains of the mixture with our fingers. I was carefree, naive, and easy to please. Then puberty happened. The stage of insecurities. Ever since I stepped onto this awkward stage of my life, I always wanted to get older faster than my body would go. I wanted an immediate increase in height, look mature, get out of school, be a doctor in a snap, and enjoy the privileges of being an adult like being able to drive, thus being able to go where ever I wanted whenever I wanted. No curfew, no folks checking up on me all the time, no bedtime, no scolding, no school... Basically, less rules. Of course that wish for a speed warp pad never happened. It was on this stage that I realized that the world isn't at all filled with just rainbows and butterflies. It was on this stage that my innocence was sabotaged. The world began to look overwhelmingly awful. Just awful. I started getting exposed to watching the news, to social issues, to disasters, to what the world really is like. I then questioned myself again: Did I really want to grow up that fast? At all? Sure, when you grow up, you have more freedom. When you have freedom, you feel great. Like you finally have power over your decisions. But as the saying goes... "With great power comes great responsibility." It was just recently that the responsibility part sunk into me. Like, I have to learn how to handle things by myself. Independence. I'm quite ashamed to admit that I don't even know how to commute using the train nor the jeep. I don't memorize all the names of the streets in the city where I live. I'm not even great at crossing the street. I can't even talk to a person I need to do business with straight in the eye without stuttering. It's quite pathetic. I guess my mom was right when she said I didn't know what I wanted. It actually still applies to me right now, as I step into college and take Environmental Science as my course. My mom still said I didn't know what I wanted. I got quite defensive, but we really can't tell. It's too soon. I have little time before I finally have to let go of my childhood, and I'm already running on the opposite direction. I suddenly want everything to go on slow motion, but like my first wish, it won't happen. I failed to fully appreciate what I had when I was little and that was my innocence. I'm not exactly letting that happen again. Right now, in my youth, I have a couple of things I'd like to enjoy: my dependence on my mom and, of course, school. I won't have those forever. I may be already entering my first year in college, next thing you know I'm already at my second, then third, and the fourth. I don't know yet if I'll be pursuing medicine. That is what's exciting and at the same time scary about the future; You'll never know what will happen next. Pretty soon I'll be getting a job. It won't matter if I get paid at minimum wage or get a huge salary, as long as I get to eat three meals a day. Whatever happens, I'll still be that Lolo's little girl. I'm maturing, and that's one thing I don't want to stop from happening. As this happens, I'd still like to keep the kid in me alive. In this whole chaotic, stressful life, that will always be my favorite part. |
|
| |
|
The sun's glare pierces through a girl's bedroom window. She finds herself squinting at her cellular phone's LCD. It's half past one in the afternoon, but she still struggles to get up. She finally rouses herself on a sitting position after a day-dreaming session about the previous night's YM conversations with her friends, paying more attention to the shortest one she had with that cute guy she met through one of her barkadas recently, each reply tattooed on her head, meaning more to her than what it really did. The present slowly sinks into her, and she finally notices how trashed her room looked. It's always been that way even though her mom's been nagging her for the past months to clean it up. There's too much to fix, so she decides to do something else. She grabs a quick lunch downstairs and comes back up to her room. The computer is switched on and she signs into YM once again while checking for Multiply updates as she loads that Youtube video she wasn't able to finish the night before. 6pm. She goes out to Trinoma to hang out and shop with her friends. They catch up on each other's summer vacations and talk about the places they're going to, who's liking who, and still seeking each other's advice on which college and course to choose while congratulating the future Iskas, Ateneans, Thomasians, and Lasallians. Past twelve midnight. No more updates on multiply. No one to talk to on YM. She's out of keywords to type on Youtube. Out of ideas to do anything. Her eyes settled on the stagnant mess in her room. It's still the same, except for those paper bags she laid beside the door after arriving from the mall. As she stared, how she wished it would just clean itself. She falls asleep, now thinking about college, her aspirations, and the next escapade she'll have with her friends. She still hasn't lifted a finger. ---------------------- Everyone's leaving. I'm pretty sure everyone's aware of that, as I am aware that they too will soon end up doing the same thing. It's practically become the norm. You go to college. You seek your parents' advice on which course to take; which path to choose [heck, sometimes you don't even have to ask]. They tell you to take up nursing. They can see it now; you pass the board exams, you file for a job abroad, you'll blindly throw yourself off onto a foreign land, and you settle there as a well-paid OFW. You're going to be called a national "hero." It's the path they want for you. What else would parents desire for you but the best? You'll live. You'll be well-off, get used to the surroundings, have your own family there, call it "home" soon enough, and you'll live happily ever after. It's fool-proof. But then again... ikaw lang yun. You end up studying your butt off only for your own good. "Anak, mag-aral ka ng mabuti para magkaroon ka ng magandang trabaho paglaki mo." It's like leaving your home 'cause it's a wreck. There doesn't seem to be any sign of hope so you go off to a foreign land and decide to help out there instead. If you're going to help a country out, it would be great if you at least start at home. It's upsetting... We've got the brains, we just lack will-power. We can achieve something if we really wanted to; if we wanted it enough and believed in it enough to make it happen. If you believe otherwise, and think that I'm just talking bull and creating false hope, then you can pack your bags and go. ------------------- Uttered by Padre Florentino in El Filibusterismo, by Dr. Jose P. Rizal, 1891: Nasaan ang kabataang mag-aalay ng kanilang kasibulang buhay, ng kanilang adhikain at sigasig sa kabutihan ng bansa?Matira matibay, bord. |
|
| |
|
I haven't written anything for the longest time. I recently wondered why I just stopped. ...Well, not like it matters now. I currently have no bright ideas, so I want to try and start again by recalling and reflecting on the most significant experience that has happened to me lately: Japan. What comes into your mind when you hear the word "Japan?" Is it Anime? Super advanced hi-tech gadgets? Japanese food? Cars? Tall buildings? Well, I used to think these as well. What comes into my mind when I hear it now is hospitality, respect, images of its beautiful places, and its rich and preserved culture that I admire. Yes, Japan is a first world country. Yes, it is continuously advancing in technology. In fact, it plays a big role in the world's business cycle. I'm pretty sure you yourself have been influenced by this country, may it be through electronics, art, cars (if it's Honda, Toyota, Mitsubishi, Suzuki, etc.), manga, or anime shows, but what I think people should see as worth knowing about it is that as this nation experiences these technological advances, the Japanese still maintain the practices and richness of its culture and traditions--marks made and left by their ancestors who comprised of their history, shaped their present state, and guide their future. Walang limutan, kung baga. Along with the preservation of their culture is the continued practice of the moral values that their ancestors have taught them, the most important and most prominent of which is respect. Respect for oneself, respect for tradition, and most especially, respect for others. I found myself repeatedly bowing when greeting people there, and it turned into a habit I became happy with. It's a wonderful action that tells people only positive things, like our very own Filipino "mano" to elder people. That's basically what I can share about my new insight on Japan, and is, I think, what makes it a beautiful country. |
|
| |||||||
|
It's weird how one can possess multiple personalities. I'm not saying I'm a schizo. My case isn't that grave. It's normal, I guess. I mean, everyone has at least a couple of personalities, but mine seem to switch places more often. Or maybe I just realized this now. I haven't a clue. Nowadays, I noticed that I'm either bubbly or depressed. The latter is pathetically dominant, though... Which just really sucks. Either which, my siblings seem to think I'm just disturbed. I say they're no different [sibling rivalry reflex.] I scare myself.
|
|||||||
| |||||||
|
There's nothing like realizing all your mistakes, crying your heart out of guilt and frustration, hating yourself for everything you've done, saying sorry to the person you've hurt, having a hearty conversation with her, and receiving a hug of forgiveness.
|
|||||||
| |||||||
|
Caution: Contains excessive emo-ness. [Let me be, critic. I'm sad. *sticks tongue out*]
|
|||||||
drained
depressed