‘Cause at the end of the day I still feel lonely.
I’m not sure what to feel about you anymore. But I’m pretty sure it’s more than what I’ve anticipated.
I think it’s too late to stop.
Woke up at ass-o-clock in the morning for rehearsals only to find out that it was cancelled. But it’s okay ’cause I get to spend some time with these people.
It has been months since the last time but somehow you still manage to pull that one string of mine.
Life has been filled with paragraphs filled with adjectives ranging from the extremely palatable to the nauseating and verbs that you can almost hear. Of mistakes sticking to the bottom of pan, not enough oil, I’ve realized too late and of raisin coated fingers but never sweet, always stale to the tongue and the scent hanging off just on the outer edge of the nostrils…
In short: Life has been pretty boring.
I haven’t had the pretty woop-dee-doo summer life yet (unlike some people I know). Not that I’m expecting anything to happen at this point in my vacation, because really, the sun has been beating on our backs since it settled itself in the middle of our Solar System. Worse, the Ozone layer in this part of the planet seems to be thinning at a ridiculously rapid rate compared to the rest of the world because holy wow what is this heat. I’m just glad that I’ve kind of maybe gotten used to it, only staying at our house’s ground floor. The second floor continue to do it’s job as our sauna room – or floor, rather.
I’ve come to accompany my best friend to her school too, for her shifting degrees. I hope she makes it. She likewise accompanies me in completing my passport requirements.
For all that’s worth, I’ve only asked her to accompany her so I can spend more time with her.
But I already had my passport processed last Thursday. It was pretty much all waiting and less processing because wow, I’ve never waited for anything for as long as I did last week. But it was okay. I guess. If you’re into four hours of waiting and only fifteen minutes of document processing.
Really, it was good.
Besides that, my life has been pretty much bland.
Here’s a picture of my cat anyway:
Is this what love feels like?
Not the romantic kind of love where everything is grounded on mutual everything – give and take. Rather, the kind of love that makes you want to give up everything to that one person and not expect anything in return, the kind of love that you see in those sad movies that makes you ugly-cry just because the lead actor is a pretty stupid martyr giving up his chance at true love (the romantic kind) by giving away his true love to another guy, the kind of love that just fucking hurts because you can’t do anything about it but you still push, push because you love that person that much.
Maybe this is what Jesus felt when he still walked the earth.
These past few days, my best friend and I started hanging out – just the two of us. She first asked me to go with her last Monday to accompany her on her enrollment. She asked me if I could accompany her again the day after that ’cause she needed to go to another school to inquire about school-related things. I said yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I?
Then we hanged out again awhile ago ’cause I needed someone to go with me to do some errands.
I think we needed this day. She had to let go some of the frustrations she was feeling, and I too had my own frustration and stories to tell her. Only her.
She’s a breath of fresh air to me. I can freely open my filter and just let everything spill.
I’ve never had a sister – it was always just my brother and I in my family. Sometimes it just feels like I’m an only child since my brother and I have a huge ten-year difference and I don’t really remember much of my childhood when he and I would play together (did we ever?).
A lot of people have been thinking that she and I are siblings. Not that I have a problem about it. Although I sometimes pretend that I’m annoyed by it, I do in fact secretly like it when people tell us that we look alike.
There’s no doubt that I would be a very proud twin/sister, if I were related to her.
I love her – in a way that I would lay down everything for her. I wouldn’t shield her from the world. No. I would rather let her see the ugly world than let her cling on to false hope. Maybe that’s why I’m never nice to her. Yes, I tell her ‘good luck’ and ‘you can do it’ but when it comes to making decisions, I try my hardest to make her see both sides. I once said to her to stop being so negative about (something) ’cause that’s my job. It’s my job to be the ‘bad guy’ in the situation so she could see that not everything is all butterflies and cookies and unicorns puking rainbows.
Not everything is so fucking sweet.
When I first told her that I might be leaving (via facebook lmao), she told me she cried. Hard. I was secretly laughing though ’cause she never cries, at least I don’t think so. She never admits her weakness. To be honest, I’m not the type of person that hates seeing people cry. I actually like it – glad to know they’re human. I just hate the comforting part ’cause I never know what to do. But when she told me she cried, I didn’t tell her that ‘everything is going to be okay’ because fuck you, it’s not. It’s never going to be okay. But she understood. I’m glad she understood. So I told her the truth.
I can never lie to her.
You know the type of love that transcends love itself? To be honest, I don’t quite know what that is and how it feels like but I would guess that this must be it.
I’m not in-love with her because god that would be so totally freaky. And gross. Yuck. But I love her, in a way that a sister might love her mother, in a way that a mother might love her daughter, in a way that Hachiko the dog loves his owner.
She’s my best friend and I would do anything and everything to make her happy. I would do anything and everything to keep her safe.
She’s my best friend but sometimes I feel like she’s my sister. More than my sister to be honest. It’s like she’s my other half – but not in that freaky sci-fi telepathy twins-whatever way, no. She’s my other half in a way that my life would feel incomplete if she’s not here. Not here, physically. More of here, spiritually, if one were to believe in spirits.
I believe in soulmates.
I believe that soulmates exists not only between lovers but also between friends.
If so, then she is definitely, defintely my soulmate.
I’m not sure if most of you can understand.
If ever you’re reading this just know that you suck so bad right now I wanna punch you in the face.
I personally declare the month of April as booze-month because seriously, I’ve been drinking a lot more than I should. In my entire life. Ever. I think.
I do drink, though, just not a lot. I would like to think that I know my limit when it comes to these things. Me spilling secrets is probably one of those triggering factors that tells me, hey, I need to stop.
But last night was just insane.
The first time I drank alcohol was during my college friend’s debut – the first debut I attended during college.I can pretty much say that it was due to peer pressure ’cause, come on, it’s college and you haven’t tasted alcohol yet? That’s kinda lame even for my standards. So I drank during the after party. The Bailey’s was nice at first but then it tasted kinda funky by the time it was nearing bottom. Then I tried Tanduay Ice. It wasn’t really strong with only 5% proof but the spirit was just… blech. Still, it was a nice experience. I felt the numbness of my muscles. Only just a bit.
It felt good.
I think the second/third/fourth time I drank was during the time my college barkada formed. One of my friends has a condo unit across our university and the bar people usually go to is near so, convenient much? We only drink every after the semester ends though. To celebrate our failure, you know?
Drinking with them definitely increased my alcohol tolerance. It was the first time I felt so tipsy (borderline drunk? I’m not too sure) that I felt feverish. It felt awesome. It was also then that I realize what kind of drunk I was.
I was the type that spills secrets.
My personal secrets of course but whatever.
Having my tongue felt that loose felt good, to be quite honest. I think it made me realize how much I was keeping so much to myself – that I needed release.
That was the excuse I made last Wednesday when Raya wanted me to tell my other friends the truth. I need to be so tipsy my filter just disappears. Unfortunately, 2 nights of doing a round of Emperador Lights shots during our sleepover last week (with vodka-mix as our chaser for day 1 and plain iced tea for day 2) didn’t quite get me tipsy enough to spill the beans.
Which brings me to last night. (God, three days in one week? What’s wrong with me?).
Last night was the worst I’ve ever been when it came to drinking.
It started when the bar opened at 8 for free flowing drinks. It was only until 9PM though which is kinda sad but then I guess it was sorta okay else I would’ve been shit-faced drunk for the first time in my life. Which is a no-no.
I think I had 4 or 5 or maybe 6? glasses of vodka mixed drinks, 1 or 2 (I’m not sure, I just kept drinking from Dustin’s bottle) bottle/s of Tanduay Ice, 1 bottle of Pale Pilsen, and 1 brandy shot ’cause I answered a question wrong for a game, and half shot of vodka just because.
It was crazy.
But I had so much fun.
I think the best part was the huge train we did in the middle of the dance floor. Trixie’s college friends plus her high school friends just went in the middle of the dance floor and started doing the train. It was insane. For my standards, at least.
But I guess it was super fun too because our block (or those who went anyway) bonded. In a way. I guess.
Alcohol does that for you.
It was also the first time I felt so tipsy I had to use someone else as my walking stick. But I guess using Dustin as my walking stick was kinda a bad idea too since he was tipsier than me. LMAO.
We were supposed to go to Starbucks to sober up but then both our moms were already at the venue to pick us up so I only had to take out and skidaddle.
Never drinking hot coffee while borderline-drunk ’cause, maaaan, I burned my tongue.
Funny too since my mom discovered that night since she doesn’t know I drink. But it was cool. She was cool about it, thank God, or it would’ve been another round of Let’s-Not-Talk-To-My-Daughter-’Cause-I’m-Mad-At-Her.
Kinda slightly hated Dustin too since he told me I didn’t smell that drunk, but when my mom asked awhile ago what made me drink (told her I had 1 brandy shot and she was all “are you sure? ’cause the smell of alcohol was strong last night” and I kept cursing Dustin inside my head that fucker), I had to spill the beans.
Not gonna lie though, I would do it again. With the right people, with the right drinks, and just get shit-faced wasted.
I think I have a problem…
Never in my life have I wanted something so bad.
And I mean, never.
I’m generally a go-with-the-flow kind of girl so I don’t really care if I have something or not. But this is just… (Keyboard smash).
I really, really want to study at Berkeley I feel like crying.
But their passing rate is just crazy high and even if I do apply as a transfer student, their minimum GPA for most majors is a 3.0
Three point fucking oh!
Kill me now.