30 August 2011
I've had this on my mind for the last couple of days.
It's cheesy.
But its makes perfect sense:
I'm done trying to be somebody.
Heck, I'm always going to try and be somebody.
To figure myself out, to be comfortable with myself, to be myself.
But right now.
All I want is to be somebody's.
In other (partially) related news.
BEYONCE IS PREGNANT.
And here are some very relevant quotable quotes:
"Beyonce is pregnant. But it's not Jay-Z's. It's Destiny's Child."
"'Beyonce is pregnant' is probably gonna trend for the next nine months."
And to all them haters who, by now, would be at the left, at the left:
"LOL @ the Britney tribute turning into a Beyonce intro. #icant"
12:53 AM
21 August 2011
The Office just made me cry.
All the other shows can go fuck themselves.
The Office made me cry.
Michael Scott is no more.
And The Office made me cry.
You know, when a comedy like The Office makes you cry.
After 7 seasons of not taking itself too seriously (in a good way.)
7 seasons of laughter and cringes.
Who would've known that it could make me cry like a baby?
And it wasn't even the season finale, let alone the series finale.
I guess sticking with a show as long as 7 seasons, you feel a great sense of attachment.
To its story, to its characters, to its world.
And it becomes hard to let go.
Hard to accept change.
But you know.
Changes happen and we have to accept them.
So I guess all that's left to do is continue on into the next chapter of The Office.
I applaud the cast and crew for making it one of the most touching episodes ever.
It was so simple yet very effective.
And it made me cry.
That's all that matters.
So yes, goodbye Steve Carell.
You've been an integral part of the show.
Without whom, it'd never be the same.
But I'll still watch it.
Because even if it may not be the same.
Everything else about the show.
Is still damn awesome.
7:37 PM
16 August 2011
Okay.
So.
My mum just said.
That she's noticed.
That I've got a little bigger.
Like.
Fatter.
Like.
Not
fat fat.
But.
Bigger.
And that my ass makes it most obvious.
So.
You know what.
I have to.
Like.
Run.
Like.
Everyday.
Yeah.
When bootylicious isn't so bootylicious anymore.
8:04 PM
12 August 2011
I don't think Bert & Ernie should get married.
But this is nonetheless true:
"As my kids say (ages 8, 5 & 3) Sometimes boys marry boys and girls marry girls. Just like Mommy married Daddy. It doesn’t matter as long as you have your best friend by your side. I think this is a message all children can benefit from. Celebrate differences early and then you don’t have the hate that is coming forth on this page."
Now.
If only I had a best enough friend by my side.
Best enough for me to be myself.
To be all of myself.
8:25 PM
11 August 2011
Hmm.
It's becoming increasingly difficult to tell if someone is not straight.
Because sometimes even the most ostensible of straight ones can end up being gay.
Take Neil Patrick Harris for instance.
I like to tell myself that there's always a small possibility that someone is gay.
Actually, I also like to tell myself that some people just are not gay. At all.
My gaydar screws up everytime I see someone I'm interested in.
I can't tell if the person is or isn't straight.
Because I'm hoping that he's not.
Which usually leads me into long periods of delusion.
With you, I can never really tell, but the possibility that you are gay almost always equal to the possibility that you're not.
Even though you've admitted that you're not.
But I don't believe you.
I really don't.
I think you lied.
And I think you're still lying.
But with this one.
This new person that I'm interested in.
It's so much harder to tell.
On the surface, you seem straight through and through.
But there are certain subtle and minor instances that could show otherwise.
You're the one whom I hope is the Neil Patrick Harris kind.
Because I think you're really attractive.
And I don't know you at all, but from the little that I think I know, I think that you're a fun and interesting person to be around.
And you look like the kind who'd have a lot to provide in a relationship.
Because I think you're the kind who's never been in a relationship too.
I really, really want you to not be straight.
Urgh.
I want to have a chance too, damn it.
I realize that lately I've been discussing more openly about my apparently dead love life.
I think it's because I really want to be in a relationship.
Not just a friendship, but a relationship.
Maybe a friendship would be okay, because there's always the possibility of homoerotic tendencies.
Hahaha.
But yes.
I'm desperate.
I truly am.
I am myself alone.
And I want someone.
It's really sad that I find my whole day to be ruined if I don't get to see even a glimpse of your face.
That I look forward to coming to school on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays just because you're there.
That I get excited for school because I get to see you at least a small portion of 300 minutes a week.
That I'm motivated to trudge to school every morning to see your boyish smile even if it's for a second.
Yes, I'm professing my interest in you on my blog.
And I know that I sound like a stalker.
But believe me, if you are not straight and if you're willing to have me, you'll come to know that I'm a really nice person.
I'm not saying that I love you.
Because I really have no idea who you are.
Facebook and formspring and my own observations can tell me certain things about you, but ultimately, I know nuts about the kind of person you are.
And I want to know.
And I want you to know me.
And I want the next smile I see from you to be a smile that's directed to me.
To give me the slightest hope that there's a chance.
Because I'm in a period where I feel like a lovefool.
And I'm okay with that, because I want to take a break from feeling hopeless.
Because I want to give this chance and I want to give it my all.
And I hope that it somehow gets reciprocated.
That god, no matter much He is against this, hears my pleas and give me a chance at love.
Or to feel, at the very least, affection from someone other than my family members.
The lovey-dovey kind, but not the saccharine kind.
I'm happy with a normal relationship.
I'm happy to have the basics.
Because basically, I just want to love and be loved.
I've said it before and I just said it again.
So yes, I may not be the best person at expressing my inhibitions, but I hope that you see enough of my stolen glances, my deliberate, minor actions to get your attention.
My interest in you.
Because fantasies can only last me so long.
They're amazing company.
But it gets tiring to have to come up with a fantasy every night just to ensure that I can sleep soundly.
Call me deluded.
But I will keep hoping.
And maybe.
Just maybe.
If I can find it in myself to strike a conversation with you one of these days.
I just might.
I just might.
8:58 PM
09 August 2011
I hate national day parades.
They always remind me of a time when I was younger.
And that I'm no longer that innocent, unassuming little boy.
Urgh.
8:18 PM
These past few days, since the end of Dramafest.
I've been feeling like I'm constantly at the verge of tears.
Like my lungs are soaked in tears.
And like it's about to burst at every second.
And it's not because of Dramafest.
Not at all.
I think it's more of the conversation I had with her at 1am, as she drove me home.
The things said.
The realities put forward.
It was all so sad.
Just downright painful.
But you know.
My conversations with her are the closest I have to the conversations I have with myself.
And they're the most cathartic.
But they always leave me heavy.
We don't tell each other every detail.
Just enough.
Enough because the rest is understood.
The loneliness is beyond implied.
It is fact.
It is there.
And it's still there.
I look up to her as the one person who's actually likeable.
As a person.
As a human.
As someone who acknowledges her imperfections and knows that the world is full of shit.
And that life isn't as easy and normal as people make it out to be.
That bullshit really is bullshit.
And nothing less.
So I feel comfortable telling her things I'd never tell anyone else.
Because I know she has no reason to tell anyone else.
We don't speak or meet often.
But when there's opportunity for us to.
I'm always looking forward to it.
You know, how people have other people to turn to to tell how their day went?
Yeah.
She's like the person I turn to ever so occasionally, to tell how my life has been.
Because I keep everything to myself everyday.
There's no one to talk to.
So I keep them to myself.
These thoughts that roll off my fingers instead of my tongue.
I let some of them go when I'm with her.
But she's sad too.
We're sad people.
Sad and tired.
It gets tiring.
She agrees.
That sometimes you just want someone special to be there at the end of the day.
To just be there.
Because keeping everything to yourself gets tiring.
Really, really tiring.
A lot of people have no clue how it feels like.
Yeah, maybe it feels like the heaviness that I've been feeling lately.
But it's scary though.
Because, to me, she's the best there is.
But she's sad too.
And lonely.
And I truly believe she will find the right person for herself.
But the way it seems, she doesn't seem to believe so for herself.
And that makes me scared.
I know she said that I'm still young and that I still have a lot going on for me.
But what about her?
She's the one role model I truly look up to.
And if she doesn't believe, how can I?
But I will.
Because I must.
Because I want her to be happy.
And I want to at least know that there's a chance.
Even if it's in the slightest.
A chance that I could be happy to.
Maybe not now.
But sooner.
Or later.
I hope it's sooner though.
Because I want to love.
And I want to be loved.
I really do.
I want someone for myself.
I want to be someone's.
I don't want fantasies anymore.
Even if they're the next best thing.
It's pathetic.
To keep fantasizing.
I want something real.
I want to feel.
I want to touch and really feel the love.
I have my eyes on someone right now.
And I really wish that something can happen.
That we're on the same field.
That I don't have to go through the next 1.5 years pining and hoping for something to happen.
Much like how I've spent the past 4.5 years.
I think I have something for the straight ones.
The ones that I can never get.
But honestly though.
I don't even know who's not straight around me.
I'm a sucker for the straight ones.
I'm stupid and foolish and stubborn that way.
But what can I do?
I'll just keep hoping.
You never know.
Maybe if I crush on someone enough it could actually come true.
And I'm hoping this one comes true.
Because I really need to move on with my life.
I need to move on from you.
I need to let go of you.
No, I've never had you.
Except for in my head.
You bastard.
That's the kind of doucheness that messes with people.
It messed with me.
It robbed me of years.
And it's still robbing me of my time.
Though to a smaller extent.
But whatever.
You're not worth my time.
I'm trying to move on to the next one.
On to the next one.
I'll end off with saying this.
Thank you, Ms. Sara, for showing me that there is hope among the billions of us. That humanity is full of shit but there's someone like you and that there may be more out there. And that sadness and loneliness exists. And that no matter how down either of us are, we have each other to remind us that we're not really that alone.
Just lonely.
You're the best. And quite frankly, I think you may have saved my life.
So.
Thank you.
1:23 AM
07 August 2011
Ms Sara, you're the best. No doubt about it.
I think I'm going to die alone.
2:34 AM
