rewritethepast: (resignation)
My first death.

My first death.

I knew it would eventually happen, but I didn’t think it would be this soon. I'm not even in med proper, for goodness sake.

But I really couldn’t do anything; when we entered the ward area, they were already doing a cardiac massage and using an ambibag on the patient. My friend and I asked some nurses if the person was dying and they said that it was a normal routine thing. We were dubious (because the cardiac massage seemed so urgent), but we nodded and moved on.

After watching our nurse (whom we shadowed for the day) do nasal feeding (which I have discussed weeks ago), we went to someone’s hospital bed and helped in cleaning her forced wound. I say “forced” because the lady had a tube inserted in her body (and I mean that there was a large long tube that entered her side; the tube’s cross-sectional diameter was nearly the size of a 25 centavo coin) to help drain phlegm from her lungs. We used betadine, soaking some cotton balls in it and applying them to the area radially outward from the wound. Then we heard it.

I’ll never forget that sound in my whole life. I swear I’ll never forget it.

It was a desperate, disbelieving cry that tore at my heart and broke it into a million pieces. The four of us looked in the direction the sound was coming from and it was a woman clutching the body of the patient we saw earlier getting a cardiac massage who was screaming and crying and...

I remember the words the nurse we shadowed told us when we asked her if the patient was dead; they burrowed deep in my mind and my heart and echo in my ears as I now try and solve stoichiometry problems as practice for our Chem Departmental Exam this Saturday.

“Oo, normal na yan. Pag bago ka, iisipin mo na sana may nagawa ka pa para buhay pa siya. Pero mawawala rin iyan, nagiging normal nalang.”

When I shadowed a nurse in Ward 3, he told me that he would always remember the day a patient of his died (the first one assigned to him who died) – December 22, 2005 (well, either 22th or 24th – my memory is going bad again). He told us the same thing: the first patient will always be the one burned in one’s memory.

I keep seeing the scene play out in my mind. The woman screaming as she held the patient and the nurses going about their business like nothing life-changing had happened. Some of the patients looking on from their own beds and others just asleep or otherwise uninterested.

The four of us assigned to Ward 1, looking at it from a short distance and not being able to do anything at all.

I couldn’t have done anything. None of us could. The patient had so many diseases (we read the Clinical Abstract but couldn’t understand the doctor’s/nurse’s handwriting) and has had labored breathing for a long time already, a medical clerk told us. The patient had so many problems, some of them dating back to 1998. We just came when it was Code Red already; we were there when her life was extinguished like a finger does to a weakened flame.

The nurse told us that cardiac massage was a normal procedure and there was nothing to worry about, yet when I researched it using the internet later I found out it is used when the patient had already gone into cardiac arrest. Perhaps it is normal in this ward… I don’t know the death rate of patients in PGH. Maybe they didn’t want to scare us… we looked so young compared to the interns and medical clerks and everyone else surrounding us.

Eventually the woman stopped crying, and a nurse appeared to detach the stuff hooked up to the patient. White dividers were placed around the bed, and the nurse did her work like she’s done it a hundred times before. Maybe she has.

I didn’t even find out her name.

I don’t know why, but that seems important.

I hate this feeling of helplessness. I was nothing but a spectator to this death, which may have been normal to the veterans of PGH yet has changed the life of the woman crying because of her. I know I’m just a first year student. I know I couldn’t have done anything to help.

Yet I still hate myself for not being able to do anything.

I don’t ever want to feel this again. I don’t ever want to watch a life snuff out right before my eyes like this again, with the world having to quickly return to normal.

But I know I’ll feel this again, I’ll feel this a thousand times even as I become more learned and understand more the medical explanations behind each death, each life-threatening disease. I think my heart will still break with every death I witness, and my world will be thrust into darkness and I’ll struggle to break free so I can try again to make a better myself to try and prevent any more of this. The cycle will go on and on and on and eventually death will become familiar to me.

I hate this feeling.

But I’d rather feel it and hate it than feel nothing at all.


Would it had been better had I not seen it today?

No, it wouldn’t.

I would be happier, yes, but it’s better to see it now instead of pretending that the path I takes leads to many more situations where nothing more can be done, where lives just flutter away like a butterfly with wings.

I’ve been wearing a blindfold in Intarmed. Sometimes the blindfold slips down and I catch a glimpse of something yet it fixes itself and I can continue my life like nothing had happened.

I feel that right now the blindfold has been yanked off, my eyes seeing exactly what the world has in store for me.

I don’t think I want to find it and put it back over my eyes again.


This is for you, Nya :)

Well, and anyone who wants to see my jellyfish stuffed toy with my newly-acquired shrimp stuffed toy :)

The cnidarian and the crustacean (?). )


It's a superduck :) )


And why do we play with them, subject them to stimuli that would be considered inhumane had the subjects been like us? )


Belated happy birthday Kel-san ^^

And advanced happy birthday to Anne, my fellow legal classmate who’s the only one older than me in the whole of Intarmed.


It was a fly’s wing. )


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Yay strawberries!!!!

Infinitely more healthy than what I normally eat (cup noodles, fastfood offerings and potato chips)!


Sometimes I wish you’d read my blog.

But then I think that it’s better that you don’t (to my knowledge) because you might think I’m obsessed with you and what you think of me.

I’m not.

I just wonder what you’ll think of me, comparing the me expressed with words and the me that interacts with you and making a conclusion as to who I really am.

I wonder which one you’d prefer.


One week to go before it's the day again, and I wonder if I'll forget about it with the numerous requirements that threaten to engulf me.

Yet I don't think I can forget, because it may not be tattooed on my skin yet it's made an indelible mark on my soul.

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rewritethepast: (resignation)
You know you need a break from life in general when you wake up in the morning, take a bath, and suddenly realize that you're about to put deodorant on your toothpaste.

Not like I can take one anytime soon, though.


The length of my lj entries is inversely proportional to the frequency of my posting them. )


Congratulations to Kim and Miggy for winning the Qwizardy (sp?) contest!

And a note to all of us: Starbucks was not founded by Mr. Star or Mr. Bucks. Just like the Johari window was not conceptualized by Mr. Johari.


Donk moment of the... wait, I think I have too many donk moments, period. )


Do you remember the day we cut class because we saw a hamster at the front lobby? )


[I’m really sorry this is late, Vinni-san; writing (rather, attempting to write) about hydrates and oxy-red reactions used up all my words.]

To my friend the demon warrior who beheaded me, hee. )


And the Coke and the beer stay untouched side by side, blending into the table and into the shadows and disappear from my sight. )


Sometimes love has to take a backseat to everything else, you know.

That time is now, but it won’t be for evermore.

Although it is nice to think that my last cry was induced not by angst but by prolonged aerial exposure to formalin.

But I can’t keep on running away forever, and I’m just waiting for the time when my path runs out and I slam into a brick wall.


And you try again, and I am reminded why I hate instant messengers. Honestly, the first time I use it in a long time (for schoolwork, no less) and you put me off it again with your deceiving messages sent at the wrong time and the wrong place. Then again, every time is the wrong time and everywhere we’re not face-to-face is the wrong place.

Am I cruel for not replying? I guess I am. Propriety demands that I at least reply to your message, no matter how distasteful, without feeling, and how fake it is. Then I remember what happened the last time (and please make it the last time) I followed propriety and I think I made the right decision.

Your words, I’ve heard them before. Tell me something new this time, or at least change the words. I’m sure you’re competent enough to check an online thesaurus.

I repeat, I repeat, and I repeat myself again: I’m not that kind. I’m not that naïve. I’m not that trusting anymore. If you’re going to try at all, put some more effort in it at least. And I'm not about to jeopardize my chance at contentment just to give you 'peace of mind.'


Okay. In light of it being Martin Luther King Day two weeks ago, I found out that Mr. King was murdered in Lorraine Hotel. (Thankfully it has been demolished.)

My birthname becomes more and more auspicious. *rolls eyes*


Nevertheless, I am still trying to be happy now. )


Poison makes me sleepy.

I stay in the back, though, so I can sleep to my heart’s content. (Unless there’s a test, of course.) Sleep or write in my planner or even do the Math module. >_<

Of course, poison sometimes weakens with time. Other times, it gets stronger, somehow evolves into a more destructive and virulent form of itself, because it was left to survive how many years.

In our case… it’s probably the latter.

Imagine a perfectly healthy frog, valiantly trying to hop away into the wilderness that is UP Manila, being held down by three or four girls with a male skinning its hind leg. )

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rewritethepast: (determined)
On Tuesday, I committed school-sanctioned murder.

The murder weapon? Formalin.

My partner-in-crime? Joan.

And death only came to our victim after we forcibly disintegrated its brain and spinal cord (using a probe) and removed most of its skin cells. It tried weakly (unintentionally) to poison us when we cut off its cheeks (where the poison was stored/secreted) but it only got a bit of Joan’s cheek.

I know it’s normal, and it’s for science (and I did learn a lot from the experience), but for some reason I still feel sorry for the frog.

There was so much blood, gushing from the holes we made and falling down on the ground. And even as we skinned it, we saw its heart beat weakly and oh, its body is so cold.

And then it’s the end and we wash up our scalpels and scissors, pouring the diluted formalin in our glass jar and there you go in, frog, and that’s that. No more eleventh hour reprieve, no more last bids for freedom.

And on Tuesday, oh dear Tuesday, it’s your muscles next. (To my knowledge, that is.)


Is it sadistic to derive pleasure from causing an animal pain?

Because in some weird bizarre way I enjoyed skinning our frog, enjoyed snipping the fragile threads holding the epithelial skin cells to the muscles, enjoyed seeing its muscles in all their nakedness. (Of course, I did have a cold so I couldn’t smell it – my classmates all complained about the frog’s smell.) And while we relieved our frog of its largest organ, its heart kept beating, reminding us that our specimen was still alive. And I’d feel a pang of guilt for the frog and think and then Ma’am will remind us to continue skinning and I’d pick up the scalpel and scissors again and snip snip snip I go and more of the skin ends up on the board where the frog’s pinned to. (We drove pins through its erm, paws. We all thought of “Crucifixion,” except the hind feet weren’t pinned together but separated.)

I couldn’t really hold the frog while it was alive (alive and not paralyzed), but it seemed normal (and even natural) to hold it once it stopped being able to move.

Its muscles are fascinating. They were slippery and dark red and cold to the touch and when we removed the skin we tried not to cut them (and I think we succeeded, to a point). I kept thinking to myself, I’m holding a naked muscle (not encased by skin) that isn’t cooked in my hand, a muscle still attached to a living organism. It’s fascinating, from its surprisingly tough dark skin (hard to cut even with the sharp pairs of scissors included in our dissecting kits) to its very small thumbs (the indicator of whether a frog is male or female – I think ours was male since its thumbs were a bit swollen, but one of my classmates reckons he got a pregnant frog), to its cheeks which secrete a creamy yellow poison to its weakly beating heart. And we’ve only started observing it externally. Do you know how to remove the skin of a frog stuck to its feet? You pull it off like you would a glove (although it needs more pressure).

There’s a psychological thing here, but I’m missing it by a mile.

I wonder how I’ll feel when it’s cat-dissecting time. Wait, I think the cats will be killed before we dissect them. Maybe when it’s shark-dissecting time.


Why is it that nothing goes right?

Or maybe everything’s just wrong.

Same banana.

Or maybe not.


I blush when I think of it, although I think I shouldn’t.

But it’s like an entirely new feeling now, blushing like this. It’s not because of embarrassment, nor is it because I feel sick, but…

Maybe, just maybe, I’m feeling something for someone I haven’t known for a long time now.

Or maybe I’m still sick.


You know those times when you just want to curl up and sleep but you can’t because propriety demands you stay awake?

Danged propriety.


I’m still sick and I know I’m not getting better.

And you know something? It’s all your fault.


I honestly think life should have save points. You know, those areas in role-playing video games where one can save before embarking on a new adventure or continuing one. Imagine saving before tests, before confessing, before mouthing off to a teacher… Then you can reset to the last saved part of your life if you don’t like the results.

Then again, I’d probably end up saving every three minutes or so. So I’ll just hover around the save areas for the rest of my life. Donk.


I have a new friend. She’s (I think she’s female) terribly light and rather brittle, and she can accompany me to school in my backpack. I’m terribly interested in her (at least I need to be interested) and I know I’ll learn a lot from her.

And she only cost 60 pesos (thank you UP Manila for the price cut)! Hee, it’s weird having a frog skeleton on your bed.


Many people tell me to not listen to her, but it's like a knife in one's heart when she reminds you that you're not like other people, that you're not biologically perfect like them.

I shouldn't listen.

But I'm required to.


The Math Long Test I had earlier killed me.

But at least there were no swimming cockroaches (although when we left the campus Joan and Joanne encountered a lot of them on the street) nor rain (it rained the day before) nor denial of the right to use calculators.

Or something like that.

And now it's time to study for my two departmental exams tomorrow. Donk.


Belated happy birthday Nya :)


It’s you I still dream about.

And it’s you that keeps me wanting not to wake up anymore.
rewritethepast: (resignation)
It's been more than a week and I come back to find my lj world turned upside down. So many quizzes/memes (like that Tarot Cart quiz which was uber-popular), so many outpourings from peoples' minds to read, to absorb, to try to understand. Sometimes I come away from an entry nodding my head, it's like someone stole the words right out of my head. Other times I end up shaking my head, lost at the prose my friend has written. Have I really been away so long? I don't think so. Maybe the world, this world with all my lj friends is moving too fast, and how can a simple child like me understand it using the middle as the start and the beginning as the end? It's not natural.

It's like I'm trapped in a time warp, thinking and dreaming and thinking and dreaming the same thoughts and the same dreams over and over again, and my lj friends' entries are the only things that prove to me that this time warp exists only for me.

It's been a hard week. Hard is actually too vague even for my tastes. It was exhausting, draining, and all my resources (financial, mental, physical, humoral, emotional, and otherwise) are gone, depleted, flushed down the toilet bowl. And with all these that happen, everything is magnified and made so much worse in the dreams that visit me while my head rests on my faithful cotton-covered pillow. Vivid images come in the night, sweet and gruesome come together in the Sandman's visit and I wake up disoriented, my heart pounding, my breathing forced. And these images stay embedded on my eyelids for all of the new day, and whether I'm closing my eyes in tiredness in Chem lab or blinking in dismay in Kom III I see them, just an eyelid away.

And I am undone again, again and again and again.

While my chosen overloaded life full of stairs and blue books is very stressful, it's never stopped me from posting before. Even now I could have typed something earlier but...

It's hard to just sit down and type, type, type. I feel like someone's looking over my shoulder as I press my fingers on the keyboard keys in a seemingly random manner, and I keep looking over my right shoulder to see if anyone's staring at me from my bed. I'm normally not a paranoid person, but...

Right now, I am one.


I missed some memes. Bah. Let's place them here and I dunno, keep them presented here forever for posterity. Donk.

The Tarot Card thing. )

Hmmm, interesting. And I've always liked this card :)

Not to mention that no one else's gotten this result yet :)

ganked from most everyone on my friendslist :)

01. Pick your birth month.
02. Strike out anything that doesn't apply to you.
03. Bold the five-ten that best apply to you.
04. Copy to your own journal, with all twelve months under an LJ-cut

APRIL: Active and dynamic. Decisive and hasty but tends to regret. Attractive and affectionate to oneself. Strong mentality. Loves attention. Diplomatic. Consoling, friendly and solves people's problems. Brave and fearless. Adventurous. Loving and caring. Suave and generous. Emotional. Aggressive. Hasty. Good memory. Moving. Motivates oneself and others. Sickness usually of the head and chest. (At sa marami pang parte ng katawan.) Sexy in a way that only their lover can see.

The other months. )

Puro strikethrough ata 'to ah. >_< Mas malapit pa nga yung sa mga ibang month eh. :(

Wala pa atang gumagawa ng April eh :)


Let me just say what many people have said already:

Vitriol is a poison.

It's a very bad poison that disfigured Two Face (of DC comics). "Vitriol" throwing is very common in certain detective/mystery novels of a certain era.

No matter what form it is, I don't like it. It is commonly known now as sulfuric acid.

And to end my little educational lesson, I shall share this rhyme from the US:
Little Johnny took a drink, but he shall drink no more.
For what he thought was H2O was H2SO4.

(Mostly taken from here.)


It's funny. UP is known for freedom and all that, especially regarding what it teaches its students. (I refer to you PanPil people who had to bring porn to class especially, our Kom I class which had many "descriptive passages", and my Humanidades 1 class which makes us very familiar with gay/lesbian lit.)

Let me share the funniest bit of censorship Intarmed 2013 (and some non-block people) encountered yesterday.

We had to watch Pocahontas 2 for SocSci 1 yesterday. Our teacher didn't show up, but we still watched the movie. (And I have no idea why we watched Pocahontas 2 first instead of Pocahontas 1. Maybe the first one is more important. Anyway we'll watch the first next Tuesday.)

I will reveal the ending of Pocahontas 2. Gasp. And the censorship. Don't read if you don't want to be spoiled. )


Belated happy birthday Jman-san :)


I said earlier that my life seems to be trapped in a time warp.

Apparently my phone came along for the ride. >_<


(Thank you Wikipedia for the pictures.)

Okay, this is for someone who asked me:
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This is Igglybuff, the preevolution of Jigglypuff.

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This is Cleffa, the preevolution of Clefairy.

Both are pink baby pokemon. Both are normal type.

And they're both cute, I think :)


Do you guys remember the pass the message part of the Pisay 4th year retreat?

We did something like that for Kom III. First, the class was divided into three groups. There was a story (yes, a story, not just a statement) given to two people of each group. Since the story was in English, they would have to translate it and one of them would give the pertinent details (translated) to the next person in the group. And that person would pass it on and so on until it reaches the last person in the group. The last person would tell the story to the class.

For posterity's sake, I shall place the pertinent details of the story: (Please correct me if I missed something/typed something wrong.) // (Thanks Joan-san :))
"Marahil na alam ninyo ang tungkol sa kultong Dakobor. Itong kulto ay galing sa Russia ngunit pumunta itong Kanlurang Canada sa katapusan ng 17th siglo. Itong kulto ay kontrobersyal sapagkat sa tagsibol ay hinuhubad nila ang kanilang mga

Isang maaaliwalas na araw ng tagsibol, may isang batang pumuntang palengke na hubad. Nakita ng isang pulis ang batang iyon at gusto niya itong hulihin. Hinabol ng pulis ang bata ngunit hindi niya ito maabutan. Naisipan ng pulis na tanggalin ang kanyang dyaket (at t-shirt) ngunit nung ginawa niya ito ay hindi niya pa rin mahuli yung bata. Naisipan naman niya tanggalin ang kanyang sapatos ngunit wala rin itong napala. Tinanggal rin niya ang kanyang pantalon ngunit hindi pa rin niya nahuli ang bata kaya tinanggal na niya rin ang iba pa niyang panamit. Nahuli niya rin ang bata pagkatapos ngunit lahat ng manonood ay hindi alam kung sino yung pulis at sino yung bata."

Yes, I know the story is weird. I guess the policeman (or policewoman) must be inordinately small or the child must be inordinately tall for this to happen. Or something.

Now this is a very complicated story but passing it became horror because my groupmate accidentally changed the cult's name (Dakobor) to Baccara/Bakara/Bacarra. Donk.

Still, it was fun. Baccara. Gah. That name (and Dakobor) will forever be embedded in my mind.


I've been asking this of a lot of Intarmed students since we got the assignment to search for the lyrics of Colors of the Wind (from Pocahontas).

What the heck is a "blue corn moon?" Is it a blue moon made of corn? Or is it a blue moon that comes during the corn's harvest time?

Or is my trying to find logic (and astronomical continuity) in a children's song futile? XP


Pauline-san, was the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade cool? I heard they had a new Pikachu balloon :)


I'd like to type more but I think this is long enough for now.

I just hope that with the two days of rest that follow, I can visit dreamland without you, you with that mocking face of yours, walking beside me.
rewritethepast: (resignation)
The Pros and Cons of Wearing Something other than Sandals and Sneakers )


There isn't a swear word invented that can fully express my ultimate hate for Math 17. )


Maybe I just don't want them to end up like me. )


I promised I’d post the erm, reason for my leaving early (Homecoming), or actually, what the hell I did instead of watch my classmates and teacher win UNILAB prizes, but Math et al. has eaten my brain again. (Actually it’s been shut down without warning too many times this week; ctrl + alt + del doesn’t work anymore. My brain needs a reformat. Badly.) Maybe next entry. Besides, it deserves an entry of its own.


Lots of us are feeling poorly due to our Math test and the environmental/physical/mental/emotional factors involved in taking it. Get well Joanne, Cybill, Poch (haha, talaga ba may sakit ka?), etc. (Oo nga no, puro pala Block 13 ang natamaan.) Yeesh. We need a break from Math 17. (Actually we need a break from Mr. Math.)

I mean, I’m not the sharpest crayon in the box when it comes to Math but this was a hard test. I swear, guys, the tests here in Manila are harder. This test, I think, is a sure fail for me. As in cinco o quatro fail. And if our Intarmed Math God and Goddess are unsure of their performance in the test (and I’m sure a lot of people know who they are, have known them for a while even), then what more of us mere mortals? (And I don’t think I’m a mortal anymore, I’m just a erm… degenerate species? Hahahahaha.)

Bah. Stupid long questions. And Mr. Math cannot multiply. If he ruled the world, 1 times 1 would be equal to 2. Donk.

I am anticipating the day of evaluation of Mr. Math with sadistic glee. If it happens tomorrow…


Contest, ended :) )


Titilated yet? Yeah right. )


I’m seeing someone I shouldn’t be seeing here. I thought it was a fluke the first time, a coincidence the second, but I was shell-shocked at the third as now I know his supposed course here (since he was with his blockmates and I know that block’s course).

Talk about those coincidences that you wish would never happen to you.

I’m still praying it’s a mistake. Please make it a mistake.

Gaaaaaaaaaah. More stress.


Wake me up
when September ends...

- Wake Me Up When September Ends, Green Day

Then again, if September ends, finals will follow in October. Wala bang pass hanggang November? >_<


And to all you Katipunan people out there, we might just see you really soon :)
rewritethepast: (determined)
I'm wondering how brave I am concerning this blog of mine.

Am I fearless enough to keep it public even as I encounter people and events that make me get closer to the true me, the me that I don't want anyone to know, or am I going to be a coward and hide it all, maybe even abort the blog itself?

I'm starting to wonder why I'm alive, why I blog, and why people read my blog. For kicks? For a laugh? Or maybe they're worried about me. Maybe they like the writing style. Or the picture posts. Or maybe that's all a delusion.

I started this blog as a jumping board, a draft of my fictionalized life works. Now, it's become so much more than that, yet essentially it still is that.

The questions are: am I willing to share what I am now with those I have left behind more than four years ago and what I once was with those I'm just meeting now?

I don't think he reads this, though, if you ask. If he does (or did), he's never told me. And honestly, please don't ask him, because I don't think I'm prepared to know whatever the answer is.

And guys? Thanks. Thanks a lot. Thanks for everything :)


The contest :) )

I am seriously thinking of adding 10 more people because of the scores so far. If my prediction is right, it might end in a tie. >_<

While I think about it (and any suggestions are appreciated), I've added opportunities for earning bonus points to some of the unanswered questions.

Note: (August 29, 2006) I'll repost this tomorrow, since it's getting messy. Please do not comment here anymore when that is posted. I'll freeze/screen comments tomorrow in this post, so when that happens, please comment on the new post. :)

Note: (August 30, 2006) Please post your answers here. :)
rewritethepast: (resignation)
Exactly one year ago, I was a wreck. It was the day before I took my UPCAT, and I certainly didn't want to do anything other than curl up and die, for various reasons (physical, mental, emotional). I was dead sure that I wouldn't pass the UPCAT because of so many reasons but the most important being that he had told me the day before that I sucked in Physics. Granted, I do suck at it but it's probably not the nicest thing to say right before the UPCAT. Not to mention the importance of the person who said it to me. Not to mention the first class (double period, mind you) I'd have on Monday would be the indomitable STR taught by the equally indomitable Ma'am Y. who would surely bash and wreck our STR proposal to the point of no return and likewise play that sadistic game with our brains and emotions that would make me want to run and cry and sleep in Math if not for my equally indomitable yet infinitely kinder Ma'am S.

Well... )


Recap of the Week, tabulated:
1. Kim, ang galing mo :) Intarmed has been avenged (sa Mindbreakers)!
2. I am traumatized by JF twirling Bean around in his arms... (note that Bean is a guy)
3. I realized how sensitive I am to sound (and the colors I see because of it) yet again when my classmates made a din while reviewing for PE's written exam. I honestly couldn't see anything in there other than multiple colors washing over each other (and obviously not my handwritten notes), so I left the room and studied in the corridor with Danni.
4. I had only one KOM class this week, and it was already too much, dangit!!!!
5. The only arcade game I'm good at is one that doesn't give any tickets :(
6. BTIC is good :) Cherry Marble = love.
7. I was told something that would have broken my heart a few weeks ago but now is more of a relief. Good job, self.
8. I am writing something that seems to be related to a certain first year piece. Although now, instead of it being set in English class, it's set in a class wherein I contemplate the number of times my teacher goes piyok every 20 minutes in it.
9. Intarmed debates in Philo = painful throbbing in head. My notes = gibberish.
10. Ardynne scares me. A lot. I thought I was getting used to him, but what he did (to me) on Thursday is very traumatic and nightmare-rendering. Then again, I think anyone would be traumatized by what he did.


Speaking of looking back, I had a dream on Thursday. (Okay, a nightmare.) Guess what was the Star?

STR. Specifically, there being an oral defense the next day and me not having anything of our final paper nor visuals. >_< As in zero. Zilch. As in wala nga Intro. Lalo pa results. And my STR groupmates nowhere to be seen (but this is usual).

Damnit. I got a 1.75 already as my final grade, dangit (sorry po, mataas na ito talaga sa akin dahil Ma'am Y. kami)! Make STR stop being my fear already!

You know, we have this yahoo group for STR. Up to now, I still dread opening my email because I keep thinking "Oh shoot, baka may email nanaman si Ma'am Y." Then I hit myself on the head because I remember that I'm in college now. No more Pisay STR to haunt me.

When will it stop, though?

Maybe when I finish Med School. Haha.
rewritethepast: (determined)
As today is supposedly Livejournal Fake Day (or at least what's left of it, anyway) I shall make up a lie.

(And no, that's not the lie. But am I lying now? Brain sprain, darlings.) Let me call on the literal meaning of my username and say this: What if? (I repeat, this is just speculation. There are many lies in this work because of the nature of the date.)

And obviously, this is somewhat based on what happened here, here, and here. (Except those are 95%-100% true.)

Let the lies begin, and there we go. )

The truths and the lies in the story, enumerated to make it simple. )

Ahh. Now that that's out of my system, I need to go sleep. Or not.

(I think I suck at this lying thing, because there's still a lot of truth in it - at least the gut emotion in there, not to mention all those little insecurities that burn at you late in the night and make you wish for a sledgehammer. At least it was an attempt at lying. Think of this as writing practice, Raine.)


[This is written past 12:00 am, so no more lies. I'm just a lazy person when it comes to changing the time and date of my entries.]

Today, rather, yesterday was interesting. I have discovered that I like Cherry Marble from BTIC. :) And there's a promo, 2 scoops in a waffle cone for 60 pesos. (Pimp.)

Gbox is fun. :) Joan, Dingdong, CJ, Nil, and I played games there and racked up 235 tickets. We claimed 210 for a Sakura keychain. :) It's funny that the kiddie-ish version of basketball shooting gave out more tickets than the hardcore one. >_<

It is suspicious that one of my classmates ate at Sbarro's for lunch. Alone. At Sbarro's. And when he showed up for NatSci, he was wearing a pink shirt as opposed to his earlier white shirt (seen worn at Sbarro's).

Actually, something juicy happened but it is not my place to tell it. Let me just say it involves a wild-goose chase, a Neji keychain, a small pouch bag, and three tired people, one of which is me.

Actually, I'm just too tired now. >_< I'll talk about it on Sunday or later or something.

Telling lies is harder than I thought. Spinning them so that they seem a bit believable is harder. >_< I hope this doesn't happen again next year. (I'll just ignore whatever [profile] frankthecomic says.)


My KOM teacher wanted us to find GROs for his subject (and for whom, maybe?).

Good job, teach. O.o


There is this guy who claims to do scientific palm readings near the Supreme Court. He's sort of like an institution at UP Manila, supposedly.

Normally, when I pass by his erm, sidewalk space, he doesn't have a customer. This Monday and Tuesday his business was brisk (everytime I walked by, he had a customer - I pass his sidewalk space going to GAB, going to get lunch, going for afternoon classes, going home). On Thursday and Friday, he was gone all day. (He did leave his sign and chair though.)

Exactly how do you read a palm scientifically??? (Well, I've read that someone with soft palms is probably a lazy person - like me, I guess, but that can't be all of it.)


On Thursday morning, when I walked to GAB there was this little stream of blood on the sidewalk. (Ok, not little. Enough to be creepy.)

On Thursday afternoon, it was still there, and drying.

On Friday morning, it was still there and almost dry.

On Friday afternoon it was pretty much completely dry (and powdery).

I don't really want to know where/whom/what it came from. I know I heard something suspicious on Wednesday night but...


I really am tired and will now retreat and watch anime now. Or sleep. Or something.
rewritethepast: (determined)
While I'm taking a break from my sad sad tech problems with my computer and why it won't let me send email with attachments... let's do the name meme lots of people have done. Yayyy! >_< (Geez, I'm going insane. It must be because Beltane just finished or something.)

If you call me Lorraine, you're probably one of the many people I interact with in my life.
If you call me Lorraine-sama, you're probably Francine-chan and Tessa-chan in second year when I lent them ComSci handouts.
If you call me Difficult-san, you're probably Xavier-san when I called him Stalker-san in third year.
If you call me Ame-san, you're probably Xavier-san when he remembers that Ame is rain in japanese.
If you call me Hime (or Lorraine-hime or some other variation for it), you're probably Inzo-sama (Alba to the rest of Batch '06).
If you call me Loren or some other mispronounciation of Lorraine you're probably Ma'am Abadejos. >_<
If you call me Marjorie, you're probably one of my grade school classmates who are attempting to piss me off or Sir Manaog.
If you call me Samantha, you're probably Sir Munoz in third year. >_<
If you call me Lor, you're probably my lazy brother who can't even bother to pronounce the second syllable of my name.
If you call me Raine, you're probably one of my friends in grade school.
If you call me "blink-blink", you're probably Arvin in first year.
If you call me by my last name, you're probably Sir Santiago or my Algeb teacher in second year (whose name has slipped me now, bah).
If you call me "iha," you're probably Sir Nuesa whenever I ask about corrections in Chem.
If you call me Lorelei, you're probably my friend in grade school who I talked a lot about Pokemon with. (Lorelei is one of the original Elite Four.)
and lastly, if you call me Meep, you're probably Michi-san. (Meeeeeep!) :)
rewritethepast: (resignation)
[Note: When I say I write dark things, I mean it. At least this time I didn't watch Pokemon before this. Oh wait, I did. Bah. Who said Pokemon couldn't inspire dark things?

Oh yeah. This is about 95% true. I lied about the color of her hair.

lj-cut because I didn't want to monopolize your friends page. It takes up 1/2 of mine as it is.]

Too bad I love you. Seventeen guys in our first year class and I chose you. You. )

The lyrics of the song... )


I've been hearing rumors about a certain person and his certain schools.

I hope they are definitely not true, because irony's a bitch if they are.


Yeesh. The Da Vinci Code is making my house a battlefield. My father likes it (and might believe it), my sister thinks it to be so-so, and my brother is too "unbiased" to comment as he reads it. My other brother thinks it's a good one-time read, but he's out of the country taking up a MBA at Berkeley, so he's no help.

I personally liked it as much as I did Holy Blood, Holy Grail, which isn't saying much. It did pass the time back in second year or so, though. I liked Angels and Demons more, actually. And Digital Fortress.

My father is getting hyped. I'm betting that I'll be in the theater May 19, watching the dang thing on the first day.

Jeesh. It's not like they're going to change the ending or anything.


Jhud-san and JMan-san = supermegaintelligentandbrilliantandallthoseotheradjectivesbecausethey'regeniuses. :)


Waaaaaahh kakapanood ko lang nung episode ni Charmander waaaaaah.

Talaga, nakakadepress yun. Waaaaah. Damian's such a bastard. Buti nalang matalino na rin si Charmander sa dulo. Pero kahit na. Waaaaaah.

And why, pray tell, did the dubbers call onigiri (riceballs, I guess) eclairs?????
rewritethepast: (meh)
You know something's wrong when you look in the mirror and see nothing but clear gray.

I figure that this starts the end of the wyrd.


So now?

It's not that I'm tired. I'm just tired of perpetually being pissed off because of you.

Yeah, that's right, you.

Wake up, pick up your clothes and open that shower curtain, and maybe you'll look a little better than you normally do.

I wouldn't count on it.

And the cycle goes on and on and maybe someday we'll escape it.

Not if we go to the same college. And this is becoming more true as I type this, because it's the only option you'll ever consider and the one my parents are pushing me toward.


Yesterday a suspicious envelope appeared in the mailbox. It was from the Singapore Embassy.

So I'll be taking a test on March 16 and 17 at the Heritage Hotel.

Wish me luck :)


I cannot believe my dream job (as that Star thing says, not to be confused with DLSU's Star Scholar Program) is a Librarian. Second is a Mathematician. And I have as much chance of taking Actuarial as Chemical Engineering (which is my course in UP).

Gahhh. Considering I failed Trig 'round the Actuarial part in third year, I'm not inclined to believe it.

Also, why is there a high possibility of me being a physicist? Since first year it has been obvious that I am weak in the subject.

Also, what is a Tool and Die Maker? A person who makes the dice placed in board games????

At least I didn't get Dancer anywhere in the list of possible choices. >_<


You know what annoys me about guys (actually, certain guys that I know, you know, etc.)?

They always feel the need to have pissing contests with each other. If they wrong you, they don't say "I'm sorry" - they just turn to each other and say "It's your fault because chechebureche, etc." Pissing contests, wherein they blame each other and don't pay attention to the fact that each have their own glaringly obvious faults.

Why do you need to enlarge the issue? Just say the five letter word and be done with it. They just end up making the issue so much more stupid.

Well, I can't really say that I haven't done the same before.


Let's lock up all them glass balls before they come a rollin'.


I'm recently rediscovering how fun it is to play the guitar.

But the saxophone is still the best.
rewritethepast: (neopet petpet)
Pinagpalit ko ang isang orientation para sa mga candidate ng Star Scholar para sa isang presentasyon sa Filipino.

Sana naman matuloy siya diba. Kundi sinayang ko lang ang binigyang premyo sa akin. At di ko pa nalaman kung bakit binigyan kami ng susi diba. Made in China pa raw siya. >_<

[Edit at 7:21 am: Okay. Change of plans due to my adviser calling me up and basically forcing me to go. Hahaha. All that angst for nothing.]


I think it's time to take a break from the real-life drama I'm currently embroiled in.

More KOL, anyone?


Hmm. A lot of people are asking me if I'm going to Ateneo now.

I wonder why.

Let me just say that if I end up going there, it won't be because I get a free gym membership if I do so. ;)


I'm really tired of this Econ research thing already.

Make all these sites stop giving me adware, spyware, malware, trojans, etc.

Or at least make them stop asking me for $110.


Today at homeroom I couldn't see anything. I'm serious.

I was attempting to study for our "surprise" long test in AdProg when suddenly Neil-san started talking. Blam: swirls of green and blue and red started dancing in front of my eyes.

Then Mael-san started talking. Blam: more swirls appeared, this time of the green and silver and red and brown variety. Now Mael-san has a loud voice, so it was very painful. Then Elaine-san started talking too. Blam: more colors appeared.

Then Bea-san asked me if I wanted to go to a movie on Thursday. At this point I saw a faint orange tinge somewhere in the vicinity. Then Michi-san talked too and purple overwhelmed the orange. So I said that I couldn't see Bea-san. >_< And I got confused because a red blob started talking too, one who was next to the really faint orange wave. It was Albert-san :)

And it went downhill from there. Everyone was talking and talking so much and their colors clashed and clashed and people also sang off-key and I just wanted to curl up and die. Except I still had that long test next period.

I couldn't even see the handout I was supposed to study. I had to ask Neil-san (I think it was Neil-san) what handout I was holding. He said it was the FOSS one. (I think.) And more of the green and blue and red waves. And Don-san was talking too, so there was this brown-gray wave that was blinding me also. Then another classmate of mine screamed and the room became bright bright yellow, the kind that's like a certain yellow Pokemon mouse that I have a lot of stuffed toys of.

Oww. Thankfully it subsided a bit after that.

I think I need to get a stronger dosage of medicine now. I don't think it's effective anymore.


Ten Top Trivia Tips about Lorraine!

  1. It's bad luck to put Lorraine on a bed.
  2. Some people in Malaysia bathe their babies in beer to protect them from Lorraine.
  3. Lorraine is worth her weight in gold - literally.
  4. The patron saint of Lorraine is Saint Eugenie.
  5. Abraham Lincoln, who invented Lorraine, was the only US president ever granted a patent.
  6. US gold coins used to say 'In Lorraine we trust'.
  7. India tested its first nuclear Lorraine in 1974.
  8. In the Spanish edition of Cluedo, Lorraine is the victim!
  9. The international dialling code for Lorraine is 672!
  10. The Australian billygoat plum contains a hundred times more Vitamin C than Lorraine!
I am interested in - do tell me about

Considering that I am allergic to large amounts of Vitamin C, this is very amusing. And the fact that there is a region in France named Lorraine.

I'm worth my weight in gold? Really? Let me gain some more pounds then. :)


Rumor: Feb 18, midnight = UPCAT results. Hahaha.

After prom, UP tayo! :) In our prom gowns and suits! Hahahahahaha tatawanan tayo ng mga taga-UP.


Shoot. Ang gwapo niya. Wala lang.

He is more photogenic than I'll ever be.

Pero talo ko siya sa music. :) At least with the no. of instruments we can play.
rewritethepast: (poor grundo)
[Edited thanks to Marga-san :) Thanks!]

I've talked about my dismal relationship (if you could even call it that) with my STR groupmate with a different zodiac sign than mine (yes, my other groupmate and I have the same zodiac sign) a lot here. I'm surprised that so many people have read about it (some people I didn't even think knew me...). See here, here, here, here, here, here, and here for more excruciating details, passably worded.

But you know what? It's all useless.

Because he doesn't read it. Because he's such a bastard that he's wrapped up in his own goldfish bowl world that he doesn't even notice all the shit he puts me through. Because in his eyes I'm just Lorraine Miss Mary Sunshine, friend of all and person you can make do anything, even if it's basic crock.

Yeah. That's life. It sucks.

[And I can't even throw the links into his face because he's apparently going through some emotional turmoil right now. Damn my conscience for not wanting him to be more depressed than normal.

Even if he deserves it. Even if he deserves to get all that shit he threw at me back double.

This is why I don't like myself.]


Wow. Friday was woah. (Okay, I've lost all my pretty words.)

Okay. So there was that Inter-Scholastic thing, right?

So I met my old classmates from Zobel. People I never expected to see again. People from the past I never wanted to remember.

We talked. (Him and him and him and me and Sam and Ces and Ogot and even Monzon for a brief instant.) Inane stuff, like how's school, who's the teacher with you, what we learned in Math 5, etc.

Well, they got eliminated, so they left early. So we waved goodbye and all that.

You know something?

I thought I hated those people. Hated them point blank and all.

Now I realize it isn't that simple. I had fun. It was bizarre to see them again, in an environment I love and think of as my second home. It was even more bizarre to talk and laugh with them, after the hell I went through in grade school.

I guess I've become a little kinder ever since I came here.

Or maybe the wounds have started to heal, one by one, ever since I came here to Pisay. Ever since my Ruby years, Zobel has gotten further and further away, until it is but a distant memory, a nightmare that was my former life.

I guess this is part of growing up, huh?

Being in the Director's List is like, woah. )

Wala lang. Kwento lang sa sinauna kong buhay.

I had a stalker in grade school. Ces and Sam know who he is, but I guess no one else does. He was my classmate in grade 7, but he started stalking me in grade 6. We had a bizarre relationship, to put it lightly (is it customary to be teased about your stalker? Or to be forced to sit next to him?). Ka-batch ko siya. Ka-club ko siya ng dalawang taon. (Computer Club kaming dalawa. Presidente ako for two years. Oo na, geek kaming dalawa.)

Wala lang. Top 2% rin siya. Tapos pareho pa kurso namin sa Ateneo. ME ata. Talk about bizarre coincidences.

Pero wala siya sa kainan. So baka di siya pupuntang Ateneo. Hahahaha. Nag-alala pa ako.


Oo nga no. May La Salle Star Scholar Orientation sa 14th. We got this key that we're supposed to bring to the orientation. >_< Made in China siya. Wow. It's supposed to unlock our potential. >_< Sana house and lot nalang. :)
rewritethepast: (Anna)
"Cause it's one thing, or another,
I dont even know why I bother,
One thing I just can't get around..."
-Just Apathy, Tally Hall

I don't like it when people talk about me and he, saying that I should just confess and be done with it. Obviously everyone has one thing on their mind; they want to know who he is and if the only way they'll find out is if I confess, then so be it. At least, that's how everyone acts around me.

Understand this, my love isn't like what other people have. It's not the kind that needs verification, acts of affection, or even a verbal confession.

It's just love. Plain and simple, that's what it is.

It's the love I feel for him.

I didn't fall in love with him at first sight, you know. I fell in love with him because I saw the different side of him, the side that he doesn't show to most of those who know him. I saw it purely by chance that rainy day, that day back in first year.

And now he hides it still, keeps it hidden under his reckless grins and boyish antics. And still now I see the cracks in his armor, the times when the other he slips out and when he just breaks away and repairs those little chinks in his skin before anyone else notices.

I still love him because of that. I've seen the true him, the flaws he hides behind his mask, the things he tries to hide from everyone else, the things he can't accept about himself, and I still love him.

This love is painful, I know. It has always had that element.

You ask if I've ever felt discontentment, if I've ever wished he was gone from my life.

Sometimes it's not worth it anymore. It's not worth it to wake up and see him in your mind, grinning that grin of his and making your heart flutter like that. It's not worth it to go through life and watch him break your heart every day in various ways, never once repeating.

But in the end, there is still one immutable truth about me, which will never be erased.

I love him.

No, I love him that much.
rewritethepast: (poor grundo)
If I had gotten to use the internet earlier, you would have seen an entry that bitched about my English groupmates. Really, it would have started out as "This entry is dedicated to the fact that Don Lima, Neil Ortega, etc. suck to the highest power, etc. ad nauseum."

Dang that wi-fi crashing and dying this week.

Now, I've cooled off. And I guess some of them have apologized. Some just don't give a damn.

I think I really shouldn't care anymore.


Yeah, I didn't go to school Friday afternoon. Sorry. How was CAT?

I went to the hospital. Had an x-ray. Got diagnosed for what was causing me to limp terribly these last two days.

"Muscle near hip is tired. Patient needs bed rest. Also needs to use walking aid for a while. Take muscle relaxant once a day and whenever necessary."

I'll only get rest when STR and all its insaitable requirements are over and done with.

And that'll be after graduation, I suppose.


I now have some medicine (real, working for 3 hours +) for my synesthesia! :) Let's hope it lasts long enough for me to handle YMSAT week.


It's interesting how synesthesia (or at least my variant of it) keeps a person from being bored during batch picture taking. There was this Gluon boy behind me that gave off red dots. Yeah, dots, not waves, like usual. (I haven't seen it in many people.) Everytime he talked, red splotches of color would appear before me, even when I tried to avoid them by closing my eyes. (Yes, I know it's futile.) It was disturbing because it was the exact color of blood when it's freshly spilled.


I think I just failed Chem. Again.

Gah. I really like Chem (and its logic), but the qualitative part kills me a little. It's because everyone is talking while we do the experiments, the colors I see in the test tube get distorted. Sort of like Physics with the transistor thing because everyone was talking very loudly and I had to ask my partner for the colors. (Thank goodness it was Wilson-san.)

Let's hope that my medicine can last two hours on Feb 21 (when we take our practical test).


I got into UST! :)


The third year kids are weird. I heard an 07 guy say distinctly to another 07 guy "Bakit ba ang mga girls short?" Eek. Brushing the super-mega-scary Taglish aside, the kid who asked wasn't really tall or anything either. I think he was one inch taller than me (which means he's 5'0).


Someone told me "I wish I had your life" Wednesday.

Yeah, you want my life. So what if I'm top 2% in Ateneo, a candidate for Star Scholar, Top 6 in Mapua, 1.25 in Ma'am Oblepias' English class, have a "kickass" STR proposal and groupmates, have money (supposedly), etc. You don't really want what I am. You just say that because you don't know me at all, or at least one tiny teeny bit.

You don't know what it's like to feel that your hip joint is popping out (and in) with every movement you make (and to be told it's true by all the surgeons you talk to). You don't know what it's like if your muscles are cut during surgery (well, I guess Elmar-san and a few others know). You don't know anything of what I experience every day, just waking up. You think I look like hell all the time because I don't sleep? Think again.

And that's only the physical sense. My mind and my familial situation's fucked up to hell.

No, you don't want my life. I'm the only one who has to experience this life. Be thankful for that.
rewritethepast: (Default)
Yeah, I changed some things about my livejournal. I realized that my previous title, etc. didn't fit the color scheme and decided to modify them. Everything is based on the fact that I have synesthesia, which I have had for seventeen years and have accepted.

Why Incandescence?

in·can·des·cence n.
1. The emission of visible light by a hot object.
2. The light emitted by an incandescent object.
3. A high degree of emotion, intensity, or brilliance.

(From American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 2000.)

Considering the things I post here, I feel that it is appropriate.

Let's see how long the layout lasts.


My absence on Friday, not that many noticed... )


Picture taking! )


Weird things happened at Pisay today. (I was there sadly because of STR.) There was this Korean (??) competition being held. While I sat by one of the green tables in the front lobby waiting for my STR groupmate, lots of people kept coming up to me asking where the bathrooms were. When I pointed to the bathrooms, they asked which one was the girls and the boys cr. >_< (They couldn't understand the signs?)

Of course my groupmate gets to school one hour and a half after the time we set, when I had finally fallen asleep on the green tables. Damn.

We saw Melo-san and Lissa-san there. :) They were using the machines that take extract from things. >_< I didn't know peanut extract was pink and bubbly. It's a pretty pink too, the kind I see when my roommate speaks. I sort of wish we had done something like that too instead of our undying solenoid + mosquito parasite project.


Well. I know I said in my last entry that I wouldn't fake it anymore. But I can't do it.

Why? I guess I don't want him to feel sad. I guess in the end I still want his friendship. Yeah, I guess I still do.

This is why I hate myself. I don't want people to be sad; I'd rather I take on all the sadness and let them be happy. Even if they deserve to feel low and useless and like the scum of the earth that they are.

I can't escape it.

I'll be eaten alive in college because of this.


You know something?

I love him.

You know something else?

I don't think I'll ever stop loving him.


Hey. You. Yeah, you.

After all these years at Pisay with you in my life...

I think that nothing is better or worse than waking up every morning and thinking that I love you.

(And if you've seen this line in [profile] textsecret, yeah, I'm the one who submitted it.)
rewritethepast: (Default)
I can't take much more of this anymore. Everything I once knew is twisting, being blown around and about in the wind, changing right before my eyes. In the short span of so many months you've changed everything I knew in my life and I don't think I ever want to open my eyes again. Everyone's changed, ever since I declared the truth that I was mad at you, yes, you, for ruining my life even more than anyone else could ever ruin it. (I know you think that I'm exaggerating, but it's the truth. You may not be him, but you were my friend, I thought.)

I know we seem like friends on the outside, but we're not. Friends don't make their friends cry when they think about their relationship. Friends don't keep hurting each other over and over again. Friends don't stop saying "I'm sorry" when they know they've hurt their friends.

You can't use the term "friends" for us. What we have is a farce, a fallacy, a play we put on every day to keep our friends from worrying, from saying all those things we don't want to hear. And we must be really good actors, because no one suspects a thing, not even our classmates or even our groupmates. We're so good that even you have forgotten all that you've done to me, all the crap you made me take for you in the firing line. (You always wanted to believe the best of me, of everything around you. You were always the optimist.)

I know you can play your part forever, but I can't. You've always been the glittering one, the one who was too sociable to notice that anything was wrong beneath the surface. I was always the antisocial one, the girl who can't let go of the immature love she'd nurtured for so many years now, the girl who seemingly has enough inner strength to not bother anyone with her problems. We were never supposed to be friends because of this, but we are since I'm worried about you. (Yes, I am. Contrary to popular belief that I'm friends with you because of other reasons, I'm friends with you because you're you, and I'm worried. The two things aren't necessarily related.)

You know the worst thing about this farce, this play we keep putting on around everyone else? (Even with only each other we play our role, you because you probably think there's nothing more to our problems, me because I don't want to suddenly have tears falling down my face and kill the tetrahymena we're taking care of.)

It's getting harder and harder to keep this smile on my face when you're around.

I don't want to do this anymore. I'm sorry, but I can't be strong enough to do so. I don't have anything left in me to keep pretending, even if I know that everyone will think differently of me because of it. (I can already hear them now, their petty words that just make me feel worse and you better. I hate that they trust you implicitly, that you always have to be in the right and since I'm mad at you, I'm the wrong one.)

Stop it. Please stop playing your part. I don't think I can keep this smile pasted on anymore, as fake as it looks.

Unlike you, I can't lie to my friends and say that everything's ok anymore. Well, I can but I won't. You would.

I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner.

What's the point of calling it friendship when everything you do makes me want to take that last shard of glass and slash it down my arm, letting all the dark black blood drops make splatters on my bathroom floor?

I don't see that point anymore. Maybe it's better this way.

Maybe now I won't keep putting my fist through all those mirrors, trying to destroy this fake image I keep showing because of you.

[Note: Hmm. I'm sorry, the song has no relation to the emotion I'm trying to bring out here. The line was just appropriate, in a way. And the song rocks.

Don't feel bad if you don't know who it is. Really, it's just that I'm sick of playing the fool.]
rewritethepast: (poor grundo)
A lot of people were wondering how I lived my life with synesthesia (in my case, seeing colors whenever I hear something). The truth is, my synesthesia disappeared for a while in grade school. Apparently synesthesia can temporarily disappear if a traumatic event occurs. For me, I guess it could have been my getting operated on or something else that happened around that time (lots of things happened around that time, like Bill Clinton's sex scandal). I don't know that much about it either. It slowly came back after my last operation (some time in 2001?) and then grew stronger around the end of third year in Pisay. And now it's really strong now. >_<

As a child, I was not diagnosed with it because my mother brought me to the wrong type of doctor. She brought me to an ophtalmologist, who said that I had 20-20 vision. Apparently a neurologist is the doctor able to diagnose such a disorder. Yes, lucky me. So for all these years I thought I was insane because I saw spots of color everywhere when there was noise. Ah well, at least I know I'm not insane because of that. >_<


Yesterday was supposed to be a good day. (Except for the CAT duties of doom.) Not much classes, free ice cream, etc.

Unfortunately, something I've rarely experienced came true that day. I thought my synesthesia was mild enough, but apparently not then.

Andok-san called me "wasted" today. I guess that's how I looked to those who noticed me yesterday.

My synesthesia was at full force today. Maybe it's because of the hangover medicine I took, or because of all the stress I've had these last two weeks.

It was bad enough in English. I could hardly see Ma'am Oblepias because of the waves of color her voice evoked. I only knew she was in the middle of the room because there was a huge green and pink colored blob there speaking perfect English during our presentation.

Then things got worse around Math time. Actually, it was a walk-out. Seeing as Andok-san was a blue-violet wave to my eyes now, I decided that I'd better go to the dorm and sleep, and maybe my synesthesia would lessen (of course, this is wishful thinking).

Then 11:00 am came, and bam. I went to 316 because we (Graviton) were supposed to stay there since Sir Vlad wanted to tell us something. (I thought it was about our less-than-stellar performance last quarter. 16 of Grav have failures.) I felt really sick around then because everyone outside was so noisy and the colors were all swirling around in front of me. I was lucky to get into the classroom.

Apparently that was worse. When I sat down some people decided to sing really loudly the "Pare Ko" song of Eraserheads (Actually, I don't know if it was the remake by Spongecola. Sorry.). This was bad because each of the people singing had very distinct colors, which when mixed together were bad to the eyes. Also, the singing was off-key. >_< Then other people kept on shouting and shouting and talking and everything and my head started hurting really bad. I tried to block it all out by covering my ears and closing my eyes, but the colors were still there, mixing and mixing into a mess.

Then Neil-san and Don-san started talking really loud. Now Neil-san has this green-blue wave with tinges of light red, the type that's translucent, which is ok. But Don-san has this brown-gray wave, which is very very dark. (Not ugly, but dark.) When he started talking I couldn't see anything anymore, even with my eyes wide open. Everything was pitch dark with that brown-gray wave. (I could see slight colors elsewhere, but Don-san was somewhat near me at this time so they were overpowered.)

I have no idea how I survived ice cream. I really couldn't see anything at all. I'm glad that Don-san did not go near the dorm or else I probably would have fallen down the stairs going to my room. (Thank you Tatat-san for helping me get back to my classroom when I tried to escape and was told to go back.)

I slept after that. Then it wasn't so bad in Physics, etc. anymore. (Luckily I do not sit near Don-san in Physics, and that we did not have Filipino - he sits in front of me in that class.) CAT was ok because I didn't need to stay with Graviton. Sorry officers, that's why I was asking you all about who were absent and the haircuts and all that. It was hard to see everyone's faces past the colors. (Yes, marching has a corresponding color. It's the color of white and gray, a very light color. Still it is blinding if everyone does it.)

My head still hurts though. It helps when I sing because the color I see when I speak/sing is very light, nearly colorless. It helps dampen the other colors I see.

This is why I sing anime songs a lot.


Warning: Sir Englatera may not know who you are. He may give you demerits because he thinks you are someone else. He almost made me mark Amongo as having no uniform when it was really Calibo who had no uniform. This is especially bad because Calibo is doing a special project and should be known by Sir.

Tatlo lang meetings natin sa CAT ngayong 4th quarter! Two more to go! :) Then I can say goodbye to the drudgery of attendance taking! :)


I thought it was ok now. I thought maybe I could forgive you now.

Why do you keep pointing that finger at me? (And you tried it when we were around other people ignorant of what had happened between us. You keep hiding behind that joker facade of yours, letting me take the blame, letting me be the fall guy for your evil plans.)

Yes, let me look like the bad guy, why don't you. After all, apparently I don't give a damn about reputation. I hate that I have to be friendly to you because you're my groupmate in a heck of a lot of subjects and because I'm Lorraine Teo, friendly to everyone. (Let me throw everything back at you, let's see how you fare with the expectations you piled up on me.)

I thought there was a chance we could be friends again. I hoped that I could forget all those things you did to me, of how you broke me time and time again.

Stop it. Stop it. I don't want to hear any of your empty promises. I don't want to think about it anymore. I don't want to think about our relationship anymore, my almost soulmate.

You know the problem with this fight we have? I think about it too much, and you think about it too little.

Forget it. It's not worth it anymore. Now I realize it was never worth it.
rewritethepast: (gakuen alice)
First, let's have a definition:

"Synaesthesia (also spelled synesthesia); from the Greek (syn-) “union”, and (aesthesis) “sensation”; is the neurological mixing of the senses. A synaesthete may, for example, hear colors, see sounds, and taste tactile sensations. That means, the perception of one stimulus evokes a second perception. Synaesthesia is a common effect of some hallucinogenic drugs such as LSD or mescaline."

"Synaesthetes often experience correspondences between the shades of color, tones of sounds, and intensities of tastes that provoke alternate sensations. For instance, a synaesthete may see a more intense red as the pitch of a sound gets higher, or a smoother surface might make one taste a sweeter taste. These experiences are not metaphorical or merely associations; rather, they are involuntary and are consistent throughout life, although some young synaesthetes seem to lose their ability by or during adulthood. Depressants tend to increase the depth of the perception (Wikipedia contributors, 2006)."

What does this have to do with everything?

Well, I don't know if anyone knew this, but I have synesthesia. I see colors when I hear sounds. It's not uncommon for people with perfect pitch to have it (just somewhat rare, if that made any sense). Mine isn't that pronounced though. I just see colors when I hear sounds, or hear a person speaking. When my roommate speaks, for example, I see yellow and black bands of colors blending together. My LifeSci classmate evokes a blend of light green and white. I don't understand it that well either, because it just happens.

So why do I mention it?

During the Rockit! Science concert, I saw so many colors as everything happened. Everything was blending into everything else, the black with the acid green and the yellow and the navy blue and even a tinge of purple, the kind that reminds you of silk pillows. There was nothing but color, color enhancing the music that was already there.

I guess that's my review of the concert. The picture of everything at the end, with Brownman Revival, was unforgettable.

I ended up buying Spongecola and Brownman Revival cds because of the concert. >_< Yay self.

Retreat musings: Ruby '06. )

The fair pwned. I stayed in the Finance com room most of the time, or gave chits out, or even manned the CARE checkpoint of doom (which thankfully was discharged the last day), but still. I just regret that I didn't get to sing karaoke at least one time. (Although my roommate and I paid Tau to catch Nicole-san and make him sing a song of his choice.) I will never know if I could get a 100 >_<

I don't know how many chits I cut and generated, but my hands still hurt from holding scissors. Gah. >_< Makes it hard to type.

I wish I could have stayed at the Finance com room until the end, but my head suddenly hurt after the Rockit concert. (Due to the overload of colors, probably. Sorry, this was really the first concert I went to, so I guess I need to get used to seeing all those colors. It wasn't so bad with The Doppler Effect, since it was outside and I didn't finish the concert.)

I'm still happy, because so many people were. And I got to eat squidballs! :)


If you still don't know yet, I've just severed ties with a person I thought of as a friend for four years. If you don't know who, well...

I think it's obvious anyway.

Personally I don't know anymore what to do. I've cried enough over the matter, gotten low grades in my perios and makeup lts because of it, even gotten sick because of it. I'm sick and tired of it, this relationship. I hate feeling weak. I don't want to cry anymore, or be pushed away by my so-called friends because they accept his side unconditionally.

I don't want to feel like this anymore. I've been used too much already. I don't ever want to see him again, but I can't stop worrying about him because goddamn it, I still think of him as my friend.

But still, I don't think I can trust him anymore. I don't know if I ever really can look him in the eye again, because it will be harder to forget everything he's done.

I'm sorry. I want him to know that, but I want him to say sorry too. I want him not to want my friendship not because he just wants everyone to be friends with him. I want him to think of our friendship as different, as something different from his friendships with other people. I want him to say "Thank you, I'm happy you're my friend."

This is why I should just think of the guy I love, instead of the guy I'm I was friends with. The pain from thinking of the former is familiar, incandescent. The latter... I don't know how to deal with it at all.

I don't want to think about it anymore. But I have to.

He is my almost soulmate, after all. More importantly, he was he's my friend.
rewritethepast: (Anna)
I didn't really plan on going to the retreat this year. I really thought that I should just do my i-cube instead of going there, not to mention study for my doomed math long test.

I'm glad I was wrong. I'm glad I was so, so wrong.

Because even if I fail the LT later, or if Ma'am Yazon yells at me for the thousandth time for falling asleep in class, or if Sir Job doesn't show up yet again for class it would still be worth every second of those days there.

Friends... )

Speed dating... )

I love Camia '06. Forever. )

Community prayer / Choir )

In the end, nothing is left. )

Him. It'll always be him. )

In everything is everything. Thank you, everyone :)

Edit: I got into Ateneo! :)

January 2008

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