[audio http://moviesofmyself.typepad.com/home/files/04_some_devil.mp3]
one last kiss
one only 

then I’ll let you go

hard for you 
I’ve fallen 
but you can’t break my fall

I’m broken
don’t break me 

when I hit the ground

some devil is
stuck inside of me 

I cannot set it free

I wish, I wish I was dead and
you’re breathing 

just so that you could know
“Some Devil” by Dave Matthews Band

Another Life Update, With Lots Of Visual Aids

Shitty internet, as usual, thus the four days of nothing on this blog. Oh well, it’s not like I could have written anything, anyway. The flames of Hell Week are now thoroughly licking our asscheeks, and if I was suddenly granted the wisdom to run a blog with proper posts while at the same time make major papers and review for exams, I’d start renewing my faith and believing in god. In short, “ha, that’ll be the day.” (Well, technically I am outlining another paper that’s due tomorrow as I type this up, but don’t let that fool you. I can hardly balance it. In fact, I’ll probably fall asleep on one or both of the things I’m doing.)

* * * * *

I crammed the whole day today. And I don’t just mean “I copied off my classmate’s homework that morning”, I mean “I skimmed through more than 3 decades of Phil Lit in English and sped through my exam in an hour so I could get started on a 7-page analysis of Jose Garcia Villa’s prose due in 6 hours”. I only had 3 hours of sleep this morning (not because of academics, mind you; the internet was fine so I took leisurely advantage of it huehuehue) and I surprised myself at my resistance to procrastinate. I actually got the paper done with less agony than I imagined (due partly to my awesome sister’s help.) Maybe I can only really work when under severe pressure. Maybe I have to learn to love this kind of thing and thrive with it. Ugghhh.

I did reward myself with some bread, though. Ah, bread: hotdog rolls and chocolate chip muffins and cheese rolls. My joys can be simple at times, and it came full circle when I paired my Dane’s Bakeshop treasures with some foil pack orange juice. Ah, orange juice.

* * * * *

I gave the stranger the CD I made her. I followed her, poked her turned back, handed it to her and ran away. I don’t know what she did with it, and only the insatiably curious part of me is wanting to know. I only saw her one more time after I gave her the CD (I would have liked it better if I didn’t see her at all), and she didn’t even look at me. Given the situation—I was with a friend who was on the phone, and I was listening in on it—it was understandable that nothing happened. Well actually, it would be understandable if nothing at all happened, ever. I mean really, who am I kidding? But well, at least that’s out of the way.

* * * * *

I’ve been socializing again. My Facebook profile is now fraught with photos of hanging out in places with the new friends I have made, and my best friend. It is all very surreal; Hell Week is practically on our asses and we were out there, eating at different fast food stores and staying after we’ve eaten for hours on end just taking pictures and laughing our asses off, or monkeying around the empty school lobby. Nobody slept that night—well, nobody except me, maybe—because everyone was up making papers, but our Facebook walls were active as all hell. It was funny, and fun. It helped keep us awake, I guess.

Plus, I really like some of the photos we took. I liked how they came out after I corrected the colours and added some noise to the others (for effect, aba syempre)

* * * * *

I made one more new friend; she’s my other new friend’s best friend. Before we all became friends, among their group she was the one I was least close to. Recently, though, we started sharing a table at the canteen whenever me & my best friend meets their group by chance, and the two of us got to talking. I’ve known for a while that she was a pretty rad kid—listens to Guns N Roses and The Ramones, is very very intelligent, small and generally cute. Hell, my best friend is practically in love with her. We started hanging out more often, and we talk more now; she even sits by me when I’m alone. I’ve caught her looking at me when I wasn’t looking, and her general behaviour towards me seems kind of different than her usual with other people, but that’s probably just me. I’m not going to lie, though: I love spending time with her.

* * * * *

I am talking with herI PMed her on Facebook for no particular reason, just testing out the lack of feeling regarding her that I had so suddenly noticed just recently. True enough, I didn’t feel anything anymore. I was a little pissed at how boring the conversation was, but I can’t blame her: a crazy former blocmate who professed undying love and began pseudo-stalking her was now talking to her again after having sat silent for so long. I understood. It was a civil conversation, and I told her that I still had plans of meeting her, but made no definite declarations; only hints of the “near future”. Hell, I don’t even know if that shit’s going to happen (because her mixtape is nowhere near even fully conceptualized, and honestly that’s the only reason I’m meeting up with her) so yeah I don’t know what that was for. Probably just proving a point to my whiny-ass self from a few months ago.

* * * * *

We found a new boarding house! I wish I had pictures, because I can’t use words to do justice to the beauty of the place. It’s a studio-type flat with a black-&-white theme, and we strongly feel that the house owners must have been art students (plus he was really cute, damn!) The walk to the place is a little perilous, though: it’s a three-minute trek just to climb the uneven stairs. Even the steps leading to the house were artistic: the white concrete tiles had bottles embedded in them, and the some of the bottles had plants growing in them. Walking was a  treat visually (but physically no.) The area is beautiful and so very zen, though, and that’s one very big reason why I’m 90% sure about taking the place. It’s a space for four people, though, so I don’t know how I’m going to be coping with having to live with people again, after living an entire semester by myself.  It’s good that my new friends are my prospective housemates, though. They don’t look like the rat-nesting type. We plan to go back tomorrow, so I can probably update this post with pics by then.

* * * * *

I only have five more academic hurdles to overcome—one already finished and just waiting for the go signal for submission—and I will be home free. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but you have to understand that this is all in the space of 3 days. This needs some divine intervention if I want my grades to be half-decent at least. God knows how I could have finished my Phil Lit in English paper without my sister’s help and the internet services card I had always taken for granted. The fact that the internet in this house only gets its shit together in the wee hours of the morning would have been okay if I was the kind of person who made papers when running low on sleep, which unfortunately I am not. And yet here I am, blogging away the minute the internet came back on. My priorities are a little skewed right now. Give me a break; it’s Hell Week.

On Strangers


My reactions to the plot twist that had just happened.

I just now found out that the girl I currently have a crush on and the girl I miraculously found on Facebook by sheer accident and had assumed to be my crush were apparently two different people altogether. I am perplexed, at the very least. On the other extreme, I am crying about it because how the actual fuck could I have mistaken one person for another? And why does that other girl look so much like that girl that I actually like? And why, why, why is she also in our school?? Or is she really?? Was she just added to the campus branch group randomly? Who the hell is she?? The questions make my head swim!!

This girl I had mistaken—let’s call her F—isn’t really a girl anymore; a few Google searches (yes I’m that hardcore) revealed that she had graduated from UP a decade(!) ago, and that she is an accomplished person, and travels the globe on a regular basis. I never found out which campus she graduated from, though. She did have pictures of herself posted, and I did view them, and I was more than 70% positive it was the girl I was chasing around the campus. Yes, that’s how much the likeness was. I went on telling my friends about my discovery: about the miracle of me finding her without a clue of who she was, about how rich and high and mighty she was, and how insignificant I am as compared to her being, and how my mix CD might as well be given to an elephant. I continued to pine, however. Of course I did.

And then my friend told me that a friend of hers actually knew the girl I liked, and so this very helpful friend of mine asked for her name.. Imagine my shock when the name she gave was something else entirely. Of course I was skeptic; what the fuck man, I had already found her, what’re you doing going around telling me she has a different name? So when the internet came back on, I immediately went to look for this new name on Facebook—let’s call her B. The moment I saw her profile picture, I was overcome with panic, because that there was definitely her. 1000000000% per cent. No fucking doubt about it, not this time. I was so confused for a while that my brain actually stopped functioning and all I could do was stare dumbly at the monitor while emitting low frequency sounds from my gaping mouth. After a moment it evolved into a full-fledged scream, so much so that I had to bury my face in a pillow if I didn’t want the neighbours to think I was being assaulted.

Long things short, I panicked.

I panicked about how it could have  been possible that I believed my own idea so easily, how these people looked so remarkably the same yet not quite exactly alike, how could I have mistaken them for each other, how a lot of evidence pointed to the earlier assumption that F was her, and how the lack of anything except the single concrete proof of B‘s unmistakable face toppled that earlier assumption down so easily. I panicked about how easily my senses could be deceived, and how long I could hold on to such a deception, and by my own hand, too.

The good news is, she’s not as distant—socially—as I had initially feared. She’s not a jetset traveller publishing her own magazines or swimming in fancy beaches.  She really is just a student, like me. Only I think she’s about to graduate this year, and she’s sort of a member of the student body or something. That makes her still a far cry from the teenage dirtbag I can only dream she is, and that I actually am.

But at least now, I am a little more determined to give her the tape and just run with whatever happens, or won’t happen. Earlier today I had the perfect chance to do it, but I fucking pussied out because I wasn’t expecting to meet her coming up those stairs as I was going down, and my heart kind of stopped and I think I actually staggered back when she made brief eye contact with me—twice. I felt my knees turn to jelly; I was mute for a few minutes. The pathwalk was empty, and it was only the three of us—my bestfriend, me, and her—that was there, and it was the best chance there could ever be to give it to her. It was only after a few minutes—and her having walked around the corner already—that I remembered I had the CD on my person, and that I could give it to her, and that I should because this situation couldn’t get any better. But like I said, she was already rounding the corner, and the next moment was gone. I couldn’t have chased her, and anyway, the other kids were starting to come up the stairs too. The moment had passed my pussiness by, and I regret it to this very minute.

I won’t pass up the next opportunity, though. I promise.