Happy new year!

It's 2013, fireworks going off, plates being passed around, smoke everywhere, noises going berserk, kids jumping, music playing, it's two thousand freaking thirteen!

Can you believe it?

Two thousand freaking thirteen!

And we're still alive. (I figured that comment was necessary because of the end-of-the-world thing)

Anyway, I really do hope this year's going to special. Thirteen is my favorite number :)

Happy new year, everyone! I hope the universe delivers even the slightest bit of happiness at your doorstep.

Seventeen

Common question I receive every time it's my birthday: So, how does it feel?

It feels like the present. I mean, we grow every second, right? We grow, we think, we process, we hurt, we live, we cry, we laugh, we bask, we sleep, we are always doing stuff. There's no time for the body to stop. We are always doing something, either voluntary or involuntary.

But, of course, if we look at it in another way, being at a certain age differs from being at another age. Am I making sense? 16 didn't feel like 14. 14 didn't feel like 10. 10 didn't feel like 6. 6 didn't feel like 2.

It's the change we fail to see, I guess. We see life as this cycle where we do stuff all over again, but it's not actually the same all the time. In the classroom, you sit on the same chair over and over and over again, but there's a change there. Did you converse with your seatmate about the same stuff again? Same words, same spaces for laughter? I don't think so. We go home each day, but the thoughts in our minds aren't exactly the same.

"So, how does it feel?"

How does it feel to not say "I'm sixteen" again or how does it feel to be 17?

I don't know? It feels like the present?

Being asked that question on your birthday sort of feels like waking up in the morning and being asked "So, how was your day?"

~~~

I got cheesecake and red velvet cake from my mom and my sister <3

Also, thanks for the birthday wishes. I really appreciated them :D I hope seventeen's gonna be a blast.

For a second there, I thought I lost you.

Someone used my laptop to check her accounts so it got logged out and I forgot my log in details.

BUT I'M HERE YAY.

Merry Christmas, you guys :) I'm wishing for a lot of things. I really do hope 2013 will be better. It does get better, right?

You know what?

You make me feel like i'm the ugliest girl in the world. You make me feel like i'm really, really, really, really, unattractive. You make me feel like I own the world's most unusual personality. You make me feel like a bundle of failures, a puddle of unattractive goo, a sack of crap.

And you know what? You know what?

I still like you.

Because you know what? Every time you just seem to notice that i'm alive, breathing, capable of feelings, and I exist

You make me feel pretty.

And I like that feeling, you know?

You really are something else.

My bangs, my forehead, and my eyebrows.

Back in June, my bangs were pretty darn short. I decided to have it cut until my eyebrows and I had to go through a month and a half of school with bangs that covered all of my forehead.

You see, I have this face

This face has a forehead

Near this forehead are my eyebrows

And they make me look really mean.

I know, I know it's weird, but it really does. A friend of mine told me so. She told me it made me look really mean and a little bit intimidating. And if she hasn't met me yet, and saw me across the room with my bangs nowhere to be found and my eyebrows exposed to world, she wouldn't have said "Hi". 

I'll be keeping my bangs for a while. They're 3 and a half inches longer now, though.

I want happy things to happen :c

Just this once, I don't want people to say "BUT THERE ARE HAPPY THINGS THAT ARE CURRENTLY HAPPENING. YOU JUST DON'T NOTICE THEM."

That's the thing. I don't notice them because 1. I'm probably "dead" or "somewhere else" 2. Those happy things probably don't concern me at the moment. It is very selfish of me and I know I should be happy for other people's happiness, but wouldn't it be really odd if I just couldn't stop smiling and squealing and probably couldn't sleep because someone finally got that new shirt they've always wanted? I'll explain more in the next paragraph. Oh god I sound so selfish. 3. Sometimes, because of the lack of "happy things" actually happening to you, and the unfair amount of "happy things" happening to someone else, you just fail to notice many things because you seem to be swimming in a pool of envious depression. 4. I know there are happy things happening all around, but they're all different to some degree. Some make you go "aaww", some make you go "Oh wow", some make you go "HORREH FREAKING SHET -squeals-", and some make you cry.

Anyway, let's go back to number 2 because I just think I need to explain things. You see, the happiness you feel when someone experiences "happy things" and the happiness you feel when you're the one actually experiencing "happy things" aren't the same. The first one is more of a "THANK GOD ALLELUIA" feeling and the other one's more like "OH GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH UNIVERSE I FEEL SO GOOOOD". Uhm, do you get it or? I mean, it's normal to hurt a little bit when someone else is experiencing truck loads of happy things, like life's practically throwing it at their faces, and you're just... there, right?

Now this is the part where people would tell me "BUT THERE ARE HAPPY THINGS THAT ARE CURRENTLY HAPPENING. YOU JUST DON'T NOTICE THEM."

go back to paragraph number 2.

:3

You should come closer and talk more often.

it's just awesome when you do that, okay?

Okay.

I don't mind talking about the most random things. I don't mind when I tell you a joke and you actually believe it like an adorable gullible kid

kid 1: That candy's made of zombie brains.
kid 2: ...... -cries-
kid 1: I'm not even kidding.
kid 2: -cries even more-

....er, you're kid number 2.

You're a person filled with questions and I really don't mind trying to explain everything as long as I can talk to you. It's great knowing that you know i'm alive :D

Someone's idea of pretty or attractive.

We all have our personal definitions for "pretty" or "attractive". If we didn't, we would probably be attracted to every human being we see and that could cause problems. And it's both good and suck...ish.

Do you like the way her hair turns brown under the sunlight? Do you like the way she walks into class with that hey-i'm-here-but-not-totally-here-psh attitude? Do you like the way she blinks a lot when she doesn't know what to do? Do you like the way you just know your arms would fit nicely around her waist? Do you like looking at her lips while she's talking, constantly biting them when she's thinking hard?

You know what? Other people do that, too.

BUT

You're not attracted to them the way you are to other certain people.

And it's weird. It can hurt. It could be the loveliest thing ever, precious, and cute. It can be everything. It can be nothing.

Now here's something for an imaginary attractive dude I would SO want to meet.

Maybe it's the way your mouth curves into a smile when you think of something brilliant, or the way you make me think about the most random things. Maybe it's the way you fill my mind with stories about modern people, dancing unicorns, parades in the rain, and the words you find in books that you want to use over and over again for the rest of your life. Maybe it's the way you dress yourself, so simple, yet it looks good. Maybe it's the way those guitar strings seem so in love with you. Maybe it's the way you glance at your wrist watch when things are getting awkward. Maybe it's the way you see math as a language. Maybe it's the way you have friends, but you don't always hang out with them because you're stuck somewhere reading a book. Maybe it's the way your glasses make your eyes look bigger, your smile friendlier, your whole existence more huggable than ever. Maybe it's the way you tend to spit out details like "Oh hey, I love you. I mean, i've only known you for a few months, but I love you. I mean, not entirely love because there's infatuation, crushes, squishes, and being in love is something else. I mean, I don't even know your favorite country. I mean, am I even supposed to know your favorite country? Do you even have a favorite country? Oh hey, I love you." Maybe it's the way you don't normally glance, but when you do, it electrifies the air and it's just so awesome. Maybe it's the way you just glow with confidence. Maybe it's the way you're not all that obvious. Maybe it's the way you want me to explain things because you ask too much. Maybe it's because you're weird in a very good way.

Oh, I know a lot of people would find a person like that cute.

12-12-12

It was actually a great day for me. Everything was smooth in the morning although I did forget my homework at home (Hey, but I managed to get it done at school.)

In the afternoon, I got these:

The busilak thing was pretty darn cheesy, but that's okay u__u. But I really do have this feeling in my guts that these aren't mine and those 3 people just thought I was that girl he (or she?) wanted to give these flowers to. 

It was after Filipino class and I hurriedly went outside the room after class only to be greeted by 3 people holding a couple of white roses and one of them told me "Uhm, we were told to give these roses to you."

and my reaction was like

wait

The conversation thing went like this:

Them: Uhm, we were told to give these roses to you.

Me: ............ uh what?

Them: Someone told us to give these roses to you.

Me: To me? Are you sure?

Them: -nods- please just take them. He worked hard for these. He's gonna introduce himself to you if you take them....

Me: ......

Them: ......

My friends: OH GOD JUST TAKE THEM -holds my books-

Me: WHAT WHAT OH MY GOD -crosses arms-

Them: Please? Please? Please?

Me: Seriously? It's for me?

Them: -nods-

Me: ..... uhm

Them: -hands me the roses-

Me: Thank you? 

My friends: AHSJASHDJSAJD

SERIOUSLY. I THINK THESE AREN'T MINE. THIS SITUATION IS TOO WEIRD AND THESE ROSES ARE TOO PRETTY.

and how did he know my schedule?

and why is his handwriting so... I don't know? Neat? Even neater than mine?

and what is it with him and my laughter? I laugh too much, don't I?

Ugh?

SERIOUSLY I REALLY THINK THESE AREN'T MINE.

I had this weird dream.

I was riding a bus home and it was raining. Pretty chilly, I was all bunched up in a corner with my frozen fingers clutching my black bag, my drowsy head leaning against the window.

The bus was only half full and at the front were a bunch of teenagers laughing about who-knows-what. There was nobody beside me and I was completely okay with that. Even the elderly seated at the middle had someone to be warm with, but I was completely alone. It was a different kind of loneliness. It felt nice.

Then, the bus stopped and the doors opened. It took quite a while so I dragged myself to the right so I could see who's gonna get on the bus. Apparently, it was someone I knew. This "someone I knew" is apparently, someone I liked. And this "someone I liked" was getting on the bus that I was in. And "this bus that I was in" had only a few seats left and I was completely alone in my row. Naturally, I hid at the corner with the thought of "Oh my god oh my god OHMYGOD if I don't move, maybe he won't notice that there's a seat here."

He did.

But being a nice boy that he is, he didn't sit with me. I was left with my nice kind of loneliness while he was stuck sitting with a sleeping elderly woman. He just gave me a smile, a nod, and went on to his window seat.

I got off probably 15 minutes later and when I got up, he stood up too and all I could think of was "Oh. Maybe he wanted my seat. Well, go ahead."

But no.

He followed me home.

We didn't walk side by side. It was more of walking diagonally side by side-ish together. There was only a sense of security and confusion. Why would he follow me home? Or walk me home like i'm some kind of poodle? But all these questions were hidden behind smiles and red umbrellas. Separate red umbrellas if you're asking.

(Let's hide his identity behind the name... Wilfred? And I just translated everything to English.)

"Wilfred," I said to him while pushing the gate open with a slippery hand. I went in first. "This is weird and crazy and... and I don't know? You need to go home."

He pouted a bit and kicked the gate open with his foot and entered, too. "It's raining and it's cold. Can't I stay for just a bit?" and he laughed "And then I'll go home."

It was awesome having him around, but all I could think of was "Why didn't you just go home? I bet your house is as warm as my house... I mean... I mean... GOD fine, fine, fine."

I led him in, gave him a towel to dry himself with (He reminded me of a puppy when he dried his hair.), and went inside my bedroom to get out of my damp clothes, get into warm ones, and probably proceed outside to where he was and ask him questions like "Why are you here?" "Why didn't you go home?" "I thought you didn't even notice me. Why are you here again?" "Are you part puppy?"

I was having a last minute check up on my laptop for notifications and emails when he just stood by the door and said "Can I sleep on your floor?"

"Oh my god what" were the words that came out. I bounced off the bed, a little amused laugh escaping my mouth. My hand managed to grab my owl pillows and I gave him one. "No, you can't sleep on the floor. I might have to drag you towards your house. How dare you."

He laughed and I pushed him away from my bedroom.

"You know what?" I grabbed my phone "You could sleep in the living room and i'll just set my alarm, okay? Is an hour okay with you.... because seriously GOD i'm getting worried. You.really.need.need.need to get home."

He nodded and proceeded to sleep in the living room. He wasn't actually sleeping. He was just closing his eyes, glasses drooping from his nose, nose scrunched up every time thunder decided to roar and he was cute that way. But I decided not to stare because that's creepy. I just decided to read while he was resting.

The alarm rung an hour later and I placed my hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Hey, hey, hey, wake up." I said to him.

"I'm not even sleeping."

"I know."

"And it's still raining."

"I know."

"I never knew you were evil this way."

"I know." I laughed and grabbed his red umbrella "Home, Wilfred. I'm sorry if i'm being rude or persistent or whatever, but I care about you and your relationship with your buds and your parents. I could walk you home if you want."

"It's okay." he gave me a smile and a small laugh and proceeded to go outside. But he never took his umbrella with him.

"Don't you want to use your umbre--- OHMYGOD you're getting soaked!" I chased after him with his umbrella.

"It's okay." He told me "My house isn't that far. Just five minutes and i'm there."

And all I could think of was "Oh. Well maybe you could've stayed longer."

But no. I told him to go home because I cared.