Monthly Archives: April 2012

Social Experiment: PD


First of all, I would like to apologize for the long hiatus of the site, and it is largely due to the piling assignments and projects I had to accomplish for the summer term. I do hope you would be able to understand, grades don’t just earn by themselves you know.

Speaking of grades, our professor has an assignment for us this weekend: to go to the mall. Yes, MALL. Her’s the catch. We had to rent a wheelchair, and ride on it for an hour, and note the reactions we get from the people. We should play the part of a person with a physical disability. How would shopping feel for us? How would going to the bathroom be so difficult? These are what she wants us to ponder upon.

I have to admit, I am very excited about this activity. Last semester, I did not have a chance to act out like a child with autism for an extra credit assignment, but now, we are actually required to do so. I am looking forward to the results of this little experiment, though I do not think there would be much a notable reaction because I think, people have already gotten use to seeing people in wheelchairs. Maybe it is how they would interact with them that I will take note of. Anyway, I would post my observations and reactions soon.

Cheers to Summer!


It’s April here in my country, and finally, it is summer break! Well, only for those who don’t have summer classes. Don’t get mistaken, I’m not attending summer classes because I’m failing, but because I want to. You may be wondering, what the heck is she thinking? Going to school during the vacation?

Well I have three reasons for going to school, and here’s why.

1. I want to be more productive. Every summer for my past 16 years of living, I have been unproductive. I have joined workshops and other summer activities like piano, swimming and cooking, but after a few weeks its over, and I realize I still have a lot of time in my hands. I guess I don’t want to waste my time in front of the television and computer all my life. (After writing these, I am shocked! I never imagined myself thinking like this, ever. I have always been a lazy type of kid.)

2. I do need to take the summer classes offered this summer or else, I might not be able to graduate on time. I AM a college student, I do want to graduate ON time, so sacrifice a weekend on the beach for a brighter future ahead.

3. Lastly, the most important? reason of all. I need money, and what is school without allowance. I know its a shallow reason, but I’ll be honest with you. I need money. How can I afford to go to High school meet-ups without some cash. My teaching piano lessons to my brother is not enough for those outings, so *poof* summer class= instant cash. But I guess this is just until I graduate.

These reasons totally outweigh the events I am going to miss this summer, which are:

1. A real summer job at a summer camp. Though the camp offers part timers, which worked with my schedule, there might be other endeavors which are still unplanned, and I do not want to do something which I can’t give my whole devotion too. I also need to focus on my academics.

2. Trips to the beach and abroad. I really want to go have fun, but studies first. Judge me! I’m a nerd and proud of it (I think?)

3. Outings with my friends. No, wait. They chose school over vacation too. Guess college changes a lot of attitudes.

And that’s it. You might think I’m one of the most stupid people in the world for going to school in the summer, but I’m not. I’m looking forward to a productive and enjoyable summer with my teachers peers and books. Cheers to the start of the many best summers to come.

Age is not just a number


Sorry, I wasn’t able to update due to the lousy internet connection.

Anyway, a few days ago, I went to the mall, and a guy was handing out a flyer for a house. As always, I rejected the paper from him. When I was walking away, he called me and told me he had just one question to ask. He said, “Are you over 21?”

I instinctively replied no. When I turned my back, I can’t help but laugh. Me? 21? Wow, I must have looked old to be 21. What bothered me was that I thought I looked young. I wore a pair of jeans and a yellow shirt. Despite my lack of fashion sense, a lot of people say I have a baby face 😉

Currently, I am 17 years old. He could have mistaken me to be 18, but 21? Wow! 

I am the youngest among my peers, therefore I had developed this complex about my age. I sometimes wished to be older, to be more mature, but when that man asked me if I’m 21, I was bothered. What did I look like to be mistaken by such a huge number. Did I look old despite my age?

When he asked that, my whole perspective on age turned 180 degrees, I have always wanted to appear older, but I realized a lot after that.

See, age in not just a number. Attached to the number is the whole stereotypical package. For example, when you find out a child is around 4, you would be using a high pitch voice and asking “Hi? How are you? How old are you? Do you go to school?” with a huge grin on you face.

But if you find out someone is 40, the conversation would be something like “So, are you working right now? Where? What do you think about the 2012 elections?”

When speaking to someone older, there is reservation of words and respect, while speaking to someone of the same age knows no limitation. 

The way people treat a person is different just by knowing this number. Stereotypes arise, and limitations are set.

For now, I’ll enjoy being 17, and maybe wear clothes befitting my age.

History Lesson 2: All Over Again


I have always heard the statement “history repeats itself”, but only in my senior year of high school have I proved the statement to be true.

Remember my first love, well, after the GAME, even though we grew apart, I continued to admire him. I mean, how can I ignore someone who is in the same class, and who stands out among the crowd.

Even before the first year of high school, I  already knew  how he is smart, shy and talented, but in our first year, everyone, including me, discovered one of his many talents. He can speak.

We joined the speech club in school, despite our lack of interest. There was an upcoming event, and he was chosen to be the host. After months of training, the day finally came. I saw him preparing, and my goodness, his hands were shaking and he was drenched in sweat. I gave him a boost of confidence, and finally, the time came.

He spoke in front of the whole high school community, and he was…. what’s the word?…. Amazing. I was shocked at how this shy boy became so charismatic. And then, I knew why I really liked him.

By summer, I lost contact with him completely, and my feelings began to fade. Something happened that summer and my second year of high school, but I’ll tell it some other time.

Anyway, by the start of senior year, he was nothing more but a classmate to me. One music class, we were required to perform a musical, and guess what, he was, again, amazing. He shocked everyone in the room. I knew he had a talent for playing the piano, but his singing really sent shivers down my spine, and this happens until now.  He even joined the singing club that year.

The song really made my heart skip a beat. Then I knew, I was head over heels for him again.

Sadly, nothing happened. We never really talked for the rest of the year, other than occasional hellos and goodbyes. Time flew fast, and graduation finally happened.

Last scene: Graduation Ball.

He was chosen, along with two other classmates, to perform some songs for the ball. That was the last time I heard him sing. I remember he was looking towards one of my close friends.

I left quite early that night, but my friends told me he asked my close friend to dance with him. Sweet. He kept her company as she waited for he fetcher. Really Sweet.

I admit, I mean who wouldn’t, feel jealous. It is the one of the most basic human emotions. But that jealousy only lasted a few days or weeks. I saw how much he liked her, and how much she liked him too. Their love story became my personal romantic-comedy-drama movie, and I was at the edge of my seat the whole time. I knew the truth and in my head I kept shouting, “Come on! She’s right in front of you! Don’t be so slow!”

Too bad their story did not end with a happy ending either, though they are still best friends.

So, that’s it! The end of my first love. Its, okay. I don’t have anymore regrets, really.  Because if I did, I would not be able to move forward. Though I admit, I still have those nights where the question “What if?” comes to mind.

History Lesson 1 First Love?


To understand my current predicament, I would like to give you, dear readers, a short history of my life. My relationship life that is.

It all began in my 6th year in elementary school. Oh, what joyous and carefree days! I had a group, of what I thought, was a close group of friends, and in that I group I met my first love.

Well, during that time, I didn’t know I would fall in love. Heck, I was so young, how could I have known it was love.

Anyway, he was my closest friend. Every time the dismissal bell rings, I knew where to find him, in the library. We would spend times there reading, talking, waiting for our fetchers to come. Sometimes, when he wasn’t there, he was with our other friends. Point is, I knew where he was (almost all the time), not to mention the hour long phone calls we have chatting about anything under the sun.

He is smart. Very Smart. So, there goes my confidence level.

Let’s go to the most important part. I was in my freshman year of high school, when I labeled my feelings as a crush, and because of that knowledge,  things started to fall apart. He was my best friend, so whether to confess or not is really a difficult question to answer. I don’t want to sound cliche, but the words like “I don’t want to mess up our friendship” and “What would happen if it doesn’t work?” really do pop up in my head.

My friends who knew my feelings told me to go ahead and confess because they think he likes me too. The people who weren’t my friends, constantly teased us whenever we were together, hence, we started to ignore each other, thinking it can stop all the extra attention.

One day, my friends decided to play a popular game to help us both with our lack of confidence– Truth or Dare. I went first, and obviously, I chose truth.

“Who is your crush?” Friend A asks.

I told the name, not out loud, but whispered it until it reached him, my crush. After that, I didn’t bother seeing his reaction. With one swift motion, I left.

After the short game, I found out he liked me too. When we were in the 6th grade, that is. I was a few months too late.

Things weren’t the same after the game. We both drifted farther apart, and soon found new friends. The End.

Would I wish to be a few months earlier? Would I wish something more could have happened? Honestly, I don’t know.

But one things for sure, history repeats itself, but endings are not entirely the same.

Real Nightmares


I open my eyes, and all I see is the darkness that envelopes me. I hear the voices of monsters which I thought only existed in my dreams.

“Here, slowly walk. This is a bumpy road of rocks, then a patch of grass.  Don’t move an inch or you’ll fall.” A soft calming voice guides me as I make my way to the destination. I knew not what was in stored for me, yet I followed willingly.

As I stood still, the voices grew in number. Laughing at me. I would have to be strong. Stronger than what I already am, if I want to prove my worth.

They continued to lead me to a chair and instructed me to eat. After which, a multiple tasks were issued to test my creativity, confidence and determination. I thought I did rather well, despite my handicap. Sadly, I spoke too soon.

One word. Vomit. After that event, I lost control over my thoughts and actions. The voices kept getting harsher, one word sent shivers down my spine. My hand trembled as some voices tried to calm me down. Despite the damage done to me, I continued to finish what I have started, but I lost respect and trust towards the voices which promised that no harm would ever come to me. In the end, I think I wasn’t able to prove anything, except that I had lost my identity.

I was at the brink of eternal depression when I finally opened my eyes and saw the light. The light from the sun which showed the faces of the voices I heard. Their faces full of smiles. I only saw angels, but their voices proved them to be monsters wearing a thick mask.

As I begin to socialize with them, I once again hear their voices, sweet, caring and comforting, but these voices do not overpower what I had heard before. Harsh, brute and demanding.

Now, as I close my eyes to sleep, I hear the voices again. But now I know they are not only nightmares, but they exist in the world I live in.

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