The Super Amazing Heartbeat-hearer Person.

One of the questions I ponder about quite a lot is the hypothetical "If you could have a superpower/supernatural ability what would it be?"

I hate it so much because I'm often caught off guard when this question is brought up. Not in the sense that I am preoccupied with another activity which prevents me from answering the question, but rather the fact that I hate the person asking it because they expect me to answer immediately with such little amount of time to think about it. (and then I remember it was hypothetical)

Now there are obvious choices like being able to fly (but then you'd have to adjust to a whole new way of traffic and avoid bumping into birds or... airplanes), invisibility (perv), superhuman strength (with this technologically advanced society...seems quite useless) etc.

I think I'd like something simple. I'm too self conscious to want to know directly what people think, however I would be interested in hearing heartbeat-- hold the phone. I have a small hunch that you may be thinking "But that is the worst answer anyone could ever think of on this hypothetical question."Ah, mi amigo you are wrong (well...).

Think about this, when we see someone we like, our adrenaline level increases along with physiological arousal with the given fact that our heart rate would be higher than normal. The same may go if we see someone we dislike, some sort of evolutionary instinct of fight or flight. I could probably hear if there's something wrong with people's health-- except if I was a superhero (or an individual who possesses the supernatural ability of hearing people's heartbeats) it would be difficult to explain or be believed because the conversation would go like this:

me: Excuse me sir/ma'am, I believe I could hear some sort of irregularity in your heartbeat. I suggest you get it checked out immediately before something dire happens.

man/woman: Say what?

me: Seriously, I could hear it. It's going like an angry train on a bumpy rail track.

man/woman: That's a really specific metaphor. Your metaphors are an equal balance of humorous and informative aspects.

me: Thank you. Wait, stop trying to get off topic.

Though I imagine being plagued constantly with the slowing sounds of heartbeats... which seems rather depressing. I'll go with teleportation.

Weird Teenager (A brief, inconclusive analysis on how it's a justifiable excuse for heightened feelings with a slightly depressing end).

I am part of the younger human species more commonly identified as 'teenagers'. Now, this word is commonly associated with stereotypical characteristics such as having LOTS OF SEX AND DRUGS. However, I am unfortunately not within that scope of stereotype but rather in the SOCIALLY AWKWARD end of the spectrum.

 I guess the teen years are quite a muddled up, dodgy area in terms of a general, definitive time of a person's life; on one hand there's some sort of worldwide consensus that this is the time where you do what you want because you're young. But on the other is the feeling of not belonging completely as we've just passed the childhood/adolescence stage and not quite reached full adulthood. Of course, this is also varying from individual perspectives: there was a time when what we now considered children were working or when it was common to be married by 13 years old... (*coughRomeoandJuliet*)

There's also the idea of "maturity" in context of how an individual reacts to certain situations such as  being given an opportunity for a penis joke (I can't think of one right now due to my extreme maturity, this is too hard.)

One of the few perks about this is that being part of the 'teens' within the human species means that it is assumed to be a valid excuse for almost everything. Things like hitting puberty, brain development, hormonal changes etc. caters for a majority of our behaviour. Being 'rebellious' or having our walls covered with One Direction posters --though would normally be seen a socially unacceptable/weird-- is assumed to be a product of our biology.

 These sort of things make me wonder... if things that I feel extreme about such as my current state of being, the people I like are just a rush of serotonin or dopamine or oxytocin

...would dissipate just as quickly as they appear.

IBELIEVE I CAN FLY.jpg

This image is saved in my computer as "IBELIEVE I CAN FLY.jpg", triptych 2012

In photography we are give the FREEDOM to choose a theme for our Personal Project. While this is an incredible opportunity to unleash monstrous creativity, I find myself struggling to pick a theme. I was too conscious and worried about how interesting I wanted to make it that I neglected to do any work or shooting which could inspire me. Thus I settled for a generic, "Escape from reality: exploring the boundaries between dreams and realities". How cheesy. 

 Again, I struggle to find a concept or appropriate media to approach this. The harder I try to push myself into thinking of what to do, the crappier my ideas get. 

Struggles. 

The girl who randomly stopped in the pavement. (Several hypotheses about a girl who stopped walking.)

(*I'm not sure if 'hypotheses' is the right word, apparently it's supposed to be a testable statement. Maybe it is testable. Wait, my story.)

I trekked through the thick, cold morning air with puffs of smoke acoompanying each exhale. I was particularly out of breath due to the heaviness of the bag in my shoulder and/or my general physical unfitness. I haven't quite made a concrete conclusion on whether or not I liked these morning walks, but I am too socially awkward to pay the price of having random people breathing down my neck in the bus for the bliss of trading my 25 minute walk to a 10 minute ride.

 As I made my way to a crossing there was a girl walking in front of me. It was a quiet and almost empty morning with nothing but a few students making their way to school with their parents and their strollers full of babies who they will then walk to school in a few years. I must say I do not randomly observe people (that's a complete lie) because it is creepy and wrong and stuff. I was a little (another lie, I was extremely) behind her when she stopped and randomly stared at the wall.

 (perhaps she was observing the lichens).

This odd behaviour caught my attention and I was then fascinated by this girl who was fascinated with something on the wall. As I neared her, I tried to subtly turn to the wall to see what she was looking at but she turned back into walking again and crossed the road with me.


Here are a few hypotheses on what happened:

1) She has anxiety over crossing roads and cannot do it by herself.

2) She didn't want to hassle the lollipop man by crossing by herself, thus waited for another party to go along with.

3) That wall was just really interesting.

4) She forgot where she was going, so she stopped and drew a mental map on the wall and realised it was just straight ahead.

5) She's crazy.

If you have any suggestions in terms of hypotheses, please let me know.

(I think I kind of covered most of them though.)

(Be creative.)

Stuck.

One of the subjects I am currently taking in school is Photography. This doesn't necessarily provoke looks of awe and amazement when I tell people this is one of my subjects, but I don't really care enough about the general approval of others to be too bothered. And I like getting time to explore something that interests me outside of the general academics (although I often make statements of utter hatred towards it from time to time.)

 I think it's something that happens to a lot of people at some point... being hit by that feeling of being stuck. I don't mean 'stuck' in a literal, physical sense but rather in terms of how we are in our current state as a human being.

 I kind of feel like I am stuck at the moment. This is a dilemma as a student and human being; being stuck could mean that I will fall behind and wither along with my hopes and dreams (lots of positivity in this blog post). So I will do what my slightly neurotic nature feels I should and make a list.

(Possible) Reasons on why I am stuck:

- There are so many things to do.
For me, essentially, this just means I am not organised enough. Though even if I devise an action plan for myself, when I concentrate on one thing I feel bad for neglecting the others and end up concluding that it's only fair to neglect everything equally.

- I'm afraid to fail.
Ironically.

- I'm lazy.

- I have self-destructive tendencies.

How to not be stuck/ make yourself less stuck/ wiggle yourself out of being stuck:

-Start something and complete it.

...Like a blog post.

(see what I did there?... if not you never will)

The Super Secret Comic Book Store. (It's not really)

I once roamed this world with a dream. Well, not exactly a dream-- more of a tiny hope somewhere in my subconscious. I've always wanted to find a secret place. To define a secret place in the most eloquent manner, it is a place that is awesome because it has awesome stuff-- but it's a secret.

 This tiny hope was reinforced by years of subliminal media influence: I've watched a majority of The Big Bang Theory characters going down to the cool comic book shop and the characters from Friends hanging out in their low key café. Therefore, it was all clear for me. I wanted to find a secret place. As I think about this right now, I realise how insignificant and not life altering this is but it was finally fulfilled today.

 My friend and I stumbled upon a little yellow sign peeking out, with a picture of Clark Kent during one of our too-early-in-the-morning-photography-time. The adventure-seeking hooligans that we are, we decided to enter it.

Lo and behold. As we finally figured out the sign at the door said 'pull' instead of 'push' the welcoming warmth succumbed and forcefully dragged us into the holy grail of comic books. There were shelves of old and new editions. The prices were at least 1/4th how they are sold from the bookshops I've previously encountered.

The people who work there are cool and do not follow you around with blinding enthusiasm. They have tattoos and piercings on their cheek and don't feel the need to give you a receipt because they're too cool for receipts.

A Rant (about the lack of life-value in Hollywood films)

So, I am currently watching "Taken" with Liam Neeson (you know, the one where he has a specific set of skills). This film taught me 2 things : 1) Don't kidnap Liam Neeson's daughter and 2) In the event of a car shootout, to prevent the enemy from getting in the car and driving away, shoot their wheels.

 However, there is this recurring, hypocritical statement throughout the film that makes me want to stop watching. If this makes me stop watching a film, then I would probably just stop watching films or television in general.

 As in most Hollywood films, there is a hierarchy of life importance. Right at the top is the protagonist's, followed closely by their love ones (family or... romantic interests). This film constantly reminds us of how important this guy's daughter is to him and even started with an old tape of her being all happy in her 5th birthday. Awesome. She's at the top of the life importance hierarchy. But in Liam Neeson's (rather his character's) quest to save his daughter-- this important person-- he kills A SHIT LOAD OF PEOPLE.

 I know. It's a film. They aren't actually dead. It's just irritating. In some parts, the antagonists are shown as complete one-dimensional assholes to provoke an audience response of "Fuck yeah! Kick their ass, Liam Neeson! (or Liam Neeson's character.)"

 I see what you did there.

But I remember watching a scene where he just shot this guy's wife on the arm-- she wasn't doing anything, she was just sitting there! And she cooked for him too! That wasn't nice, Liam Neeson ('s character)!

I will admit, I am currently ill so my mind is swimming. And I've taken some of that weird anti flu "medicine" which taste like poison.

Maybe next time I'll rewrite this more eloquently.

(Haha. No I won't.)

A quote. (not from a book)

"What's it like to be a baby? It's like being in love in Paris for the first time after you've had three double espressos. That's a fantastic way to be but it does leave you waking up crying at 3 o'clock in the morning."-- Alison Gopnik

Because this quote deserves to exist somewhere on the internet universe.

Not doing work (laugh that this conflicts with the mood of my previous post)

Okay, I have been trying to finish all schoolwork. But as you may gather from the fact that I am currently writing a post in my blog, my efforts (or lack thereof) have failed.

So, I've been thinking. What is the reason? It seems pretty obvious that the reason for no work being done is because I haven't done them. But as a human being I am required to over-think this and assume there is a deeper, sentimental meaning behind it.

Some (possible) reasons:

1) I did do the homework but during the night a secret individual sneaks into my room, deletes the work and erases any memory I have of it (using one of those Men In Black type gadgets)

2) I am Lazy. (possible...)

3) I'm so lazy that I cannot even be bothered to make any other points because I'm pretty sure the lazy one is the correct reason. I also noticed that 'lazy' from the above point starts with a capital letter and I would rather be writing about knowing this mistake than actually correcting it. Maybe I could say something about the fact that capital letters aren't being used enough and should be randomly placed in inappropriate places as an act of protest (see Paper Towns by John Green).

 There are just so many things to do when it's near the deadline. I finally watched the BBC Sherlock. I must admit, I now see the appeal (and the reason behind the suggested homoeroticism behind the main characters). Also I feel smarter somehow, or less so.

 There were also many films that I suddenly need to see because I saw a picture of its poster somewhere and I fall into subliminal marketing. 127 Hours was surprisingly good. I mean, the concept seemed dull at first because... it's a guy who's arm gets trapped by a boulder for 127 hours but I liked the editing and it was actually interesting to watch. (it's also based on a true story!)

 I think I know the reason behind my lack of work now.

I'm not crazy, I swear. (that isn't the first time I said that)

Sometimes I write a note to myself when I feel like I really can't do something. (by 'sometimes' I mean just now)

I can do this!

And so can you, with whatever you're procrastinating from by surfing around the internet.

(by that, I mean, feel free to write my report for me... I'm joking... unless you're considering it... haa...)

It must suck to be in Gryffindor. (if this was my last post, I was tragically attacked by Gryffindor people))

There may be a small, super tiny, microscopic smidge of bias in this post due to the fact that I was sorted into Slytherin in Pottermore.

A while ago, I was in one of those typical cafeteria lines with other students (and some teachers) and I asked the greatest question anyone can ever ask: "If you were to be sorted in a Harry Potter house, which one do you think you should be in?". I asked this specifically to the person behind me, however another teacher, upon hearing this scoffed (SCOFFED) and said "That's a stupid question. It's obviously Gryffindor."

 After being greatly offended, I gave a great comeback: "Pshh... Gryffindor sucks." *ducks away from Gryffindor army* WAIT. "I'm totally Slytherin." to which the person I originally asked chimed with "Aren't they evil?" NO. We're just really intense.

 This is why it must suck to be in Gryffindor:

There's really only one, prominent reason.

HARRY POTTER WILL CONSTANTLY OVERSHADOW YOU.

Oh? You earned 10 points for Gryffindor?

Harry Potter defeated a troll in the girl's toilet when he was 11 years old.

You scored 10 points in quidditch?

Harry Potter caught a snitch. Game over. Your point was insignificant.

You saw a real dragon?

Harry Potter fucking wrestles with a dragon while flying in the sky and destroyed a bunch of buildings in the process.

You were a prefect?

Harry Freakin' Potter beat Voldemort! Who can't say 'Voldemort' now?



So yeah. I'm out. *slams microphone*

WATERMARKS (and why I hate them)

Watermarks, essentially, were created by evil scheming creatures from the lava producing core of the Earth for the sole purpose of ruining people's LIVES.

Maybe that was an exaggeration.

But I just really hate watermarks.

Let me stop you right there. I understand the use of watermarks, I understand that creators want to have claim over their work-- and they have those rights. But they are things that should be used moderately. (To use a quote from Spiderman, "With great power comes great responsibility.")

Okay, so maybe you're not entirely convinced with just those reasons so let me give you some visuals.

Say I drew this (not so) amazing picture.

But, I'm like, "Wait. What if someone copies it without crediting me? I should add a watermark." And that seems like a reasonable, logical thought.

Now that my amazing piece of work has a watermark, I can be credited when used (yay!)

That is not what annoys me. This is what annoys me:

How can people appreciate it with a massive watermark blocking everything out of sight? It's just evil. Have you ever seen a massive "CLAUDE MONET" in Water Lilies?

The darkness doesn't speak english (a short story)

I wrote a short story.

---

"Well, this is kind of weird." the girl murmured to the darkness.
"Yeah." the darkness replied back.

The end.

I don't know what to talk about. (Let's talk about how I have nothing to talk about)

I feel like in terms of talking about things, there's this Bottle of Stuff. There is no cap in this Bottle of Stuff™ so things to talk about would simply pour in or pour out.

 As I write this blog post, my Bottle of Stuff™ is nearing empty. And a rush of that feeling overtook me-- one similar to my phone having one bar of energy left; right before I scramble around my room for a charger like it would save someone's life. However, in this particular notion there is no charger to make my Bottle of Stuff increase in content.

 I mean, this whole idea of having something to talk about is not an actual thing. It's not something empirically testable or scientifically provable. How can someone know that they've lost all possible conversation topics? Is it when they start talking about the lack of things they have left to talk about and make a confusing metaphor involving bottles? But that's still something to talk about.

I feel like I've wasted space in the world of the internet; this absolute rubbish that no one will ever find useful as it slowly turns into a self loathing sob. By putting random things that should just stay and keep rotating around our heads like animated disney birds I feel slightly relieved. But still like a stupid internet waster person.


Let me end this with a random picture.

Diminishing Self Centred-ness (NO. Not another philosophical post. Except it is.)

I guess Freud was kind of right when he said that as we get older we learn more about right and wrong (or, rather what is socially accepted as 'right' and 'wrong'). As we get older we as an individual see ourselves as just a part of society rather than the world revolving around us like some protagonist of a tediously written movie. Like, when I was little I had this thought that I was the only person who surfaces through the world consciously and everyone else was programmed to be the way they are (i.e: my brother was programmed to be a totally antagonistic douche and RUIN MY LIFE-- he doesn't anymore.)

 And maybe that's all mostly because we don't see and comprehend the whole complexity of the world and how each individual is unique. But, how can people be all unique? If everyone was unique then being unique would be considered normal which is quite contradictory to the prospect of being unique. Right? No? Being individually unique offers to a lot of variety as a human being like how we physically look, our personalities, our level of intelligence and intellect etc. (So being unique= not being exactly the same as anyone... like snowflakes)

 Even if we're all different it would be difficult to make everyone feel special. Because being special means that you stand out from the rest. But how can you stand out from the rest when the rest are also trying to be special? How can someone shout loud enough to be heard whilst buried in a sea of screaming people?

I would love to have a nice conclusion, but I'm not quite sure where I was going with this. So, yeah, be nice to other people.

Oh, Hello, the Olympics is happening. (why this is important)

 There are many varying attitudes towards the currently going Olympics. Some individuals are quite indifferent... however there are a few completely immersed towards the whole thing. I am slightly ashamed to say that I belong on the latter. But before you judge me with your scrutinising eyes which burn holes right through my computer monitor I PLEAD you listen to my defence.


My Defence (why The Olympics is awesome from my point of view which really gives no validity):

1) Although the first half of the ceremony was reminiscent to history lessons and just grass everywhere, the second half met all of my crazy expectations. Some which ticked boxes from the list of Expectations were a giant fucking Voldemort and the Queen of England parachuting off a helicopter with James Bond.

(though one that was sadly not met was JK Rowling flying through the arena with a broomstick and announcing quidditch as an official olympic sport...)

2) It's such an AWESOME excuse to get out of anything. Somehow, "I can't, the Olympics is on."/ "I have to watch this match." works as an excuse around 70% of the time. Seriously, try it.

3) You get to just sit down in front of your tv and SHOUT random things and no one will think you crazy.

4) It will break awkward silences.

Imagine, you are sitting down and a person who you kind of know but do not speak much to is there also. Even though you have some similar friends, you've never spoken to each other one on one and the tension increases by the second. Suddenly, like a flash of lightbulb these words exit your mouth, "Did you catch the Olympics?". Yes, ofcourse they 'caught' the Olympics; they did not spend the whole summer hiding behind a cave in a fetal position. Awkwardness avoided.

5) I don't know how this is related, but somehow the amount of food in my house INCREASED. I opened my fridge and food just leapt out and attacked me (not literally). The Olympics give you more food!

DON'T make it a task. (or do.)

A few days ago, I was so pumped to do the one-film-per-day thing. Seriously, I could have watched 7 films in a day. But I realised this morning I don't like waking up with the thought of having to do something because I've committed to it. It's an awful feeling.

 So, now my eyes have been opened to a revelation that may change my way of living as I know it (it probably won't). If you as a human being love doing something, don't make it a task. I'm not saying don't do it. Just don't make it a task.

This is the definition of the word 'task' according to the dictionary in my laptop (which means it's 100% accurate)

task |task|nouna piece of work to be done or undertaken.verb [ trans. ] (usu. be tasked)assign such a piece of work to : NATO troops are tasked with separating the warring parties.• make great demands on (someone's resources or abilities) : it tasked his diplomatic skill to effect his departure in safety.

The idea of making something a task pairs with the idea of meeting expectations. And I often have these weird self destructive tendencies. Not in a dangerous jumping-off-tall-trees-way but more like if I was playing chess with my brother and he says "Oh, wow, you're winning.." I will somehow panic and be all like "Holy crap I am? I must keep doing what I've been doing so I'll win. But what was I doing? Where does this piece move? What is this board made of? I need to pee."and lose the game.

 It's a personal thing, though. I admire people who work well under pressure. Like the ones with little sticky notes on their desks and checklists and glide on rainbows gracefully as they go through those checklists. I've tried to hard to be organised but I just don't do well (or anything).

If you are a human being who personally goes through things in life by viewing them as tasks, I would like you to take me under your wing and teach me your Jedi ways because I'm struggling here.

3/7. The Ugly Truth.

OH GOOOODDD. I did it. I'm sorry. I tried to hard to deviate from the whole genre of romantic comedies but this was the only film I watched today so here it goes.

Okay, so this successful woman is beautiful and intelligent but she's busy all the time and she has a quirk that most guys do not like. BUT this man comes along and he totally likes her quirks but she doesn't like him first because he's a jerk but then she sees his gentle side and that deep down he's just a broken puppy in a litter waiting for a stranger to pick him. Then they kiss. The end.

I just described the plot to 90% of romantic comedies. This film falls within this category. But, you know, once you kind of let go of the criticism of the technical aspects of the film the dialogue and certain situations are quite entertaining. So it wasn't that bad. Just not something I would start a fandom on. Also, I like Katherine Heigl's neurotic rambles because it reminded me of the character she played in Grey's Anatomy.

 I'm not saying it's completely terrible, I'm just not a romantic comedy person. If you are (we can't be friends), I recommend it.

2/7. Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy.

I must admit, the predominant reason for me watching this film was my ever growing love for Steve Carell. I kind of liked that it was set in a time where news anchors were only men and they found it ridiculous that a woman *gasp* would even dare get in there. Most of the characters (esp. Ron Burgundy and his gang) were quite sexist and chauvinistic against this woman who DREAMS to be a news anchor.

 There were so many things I enjoyed... I liked their snazzy suits, Ron Burgundy's moustache, Steve Carell, girl power (!), Steve Carell. I cannot seem to eloquently describe my feelings because it's very late at night and it feels slightly like my brain disconnected from my body so bye I will stop my typing now.

But great film.

1/7. Shrek the Third.

Okay. So in the past couple of years, Shrek was always around. As in, I see an advert on the bus and think "Didn't they just make one?" (ironically, it is also then that I realised no one would answer my internal rhetorical questions).

So I decided to watch it.

There are a lot of elements I like. One of them being the fact that this whole thing is set in the land of 'Fairytales' but they add a modern, relatable twist to it. If you look really, really closely you see that this is not just about an ogre and his companions (the talking donkey and spanish assassin cat) it's SO MUCH MORE than that (oh my god, I sound sarcastic. I swear I'm trying not to be).

 In this one, Shrek goes to Worcestershire (like the sauce) to get Arthur (because Shrek doesn't want to rule Far, Far Away) who is kind of in the 'outsider' part of the teenagers. Then they relate to each other with their similar internal conflicts; Shrek not feeling ready to be a father and Arthur not feeling ready to rule a whole kingdom.

 Then there's the unusual antagonist in the form of the metrosexual, rose biting Prince Charming. Best. Villain. Ever. I don't know if they intentionally wanted to parody the 'golden people' who people expect great things from and sob at themselves in front of the mirror... it is either genius or an even more hilarious irony.

 And at some point, Damien Rice started playing.

7 days of Film.

 I've been trying hard to post things more, but there isn't much to talk about so I have decided to set myself a challenge (which I WILL complete): from Monday 23rd of July to that Sunday (29th) I will watch one film a day and write my thoughts about them in this very blog.

 This isn't much of a challenge, because I just genuinely love watching films. But if you are reading this and you have any suggestions, let me know. If you are reading this and you'd like to join, you should!

Autobiographies.

I am reading random autobiographies (a higher dose than some may read in their lifetime) written by interesting people, there have been some by people suffering from deep insecurities which lead to dangerous disorders. But some are quite light hearted :)

So far, Sarah Silverman gets an A* for making me laugh out loud and admire her hilarious writing style. Four for you, Sarah Silverman.

*Obligatory Summer Post (2012)

*in which I list down a number of things I aim to do over this period of Summer (although we all know I will do none of them)

1. Do ALL schoolwork set by evil teachers.

2.Try to do some studying before the beginning of the term (I will NOT be behind)

3. Clean room.

4. Do more extracurriculars to put in my (currently empty) Personal Statement (preferable if said extracurricular activities would pay money)

5. Go out and find some wildlife to shoot-- not shoot literally, more like capturing their beauty. (in London, really?)

6. Find a part-time job (if said extracurricular plan fails)

7. Do something EPIC and AWESOME with friends (not just sitting around and crying in a circle after watching a sad film... which never happened before...)

8. Write more blog posts (since I'll have a shit load of spare time)

9. Read forgotten books/ stop impulsively buying more books to be forgotten.

10. Not kill anyone. (/maintain current status of my non-killing spree/ spreading joy and rainbows around people... is it ironic this morbid part of the list ends with the thought of spreading joy and rainbows?)

11. Find more things to do that will make me feel like I didn't waste this summer.

 (use less brackets in my blog)

(The earth shattering realisation that things will never stay as they are forever)

Today was one of those end of school things again. I hate those things because I've been subjected to a variety of the same motion for the past 5 years in the same school. It was filled with the same chorus of 'Have a nice summer' from both students and teachers alike. The same hour-long mass in the church a few minutes from the school in which everyone in the year is obligated to attend because we are in a Catholic School (and teachers check attendances).

 As the priest said his parting words, where I am selfishly exhaling in relief that I no longer have to do the stand-up-sit-down-oh-wait-let's-kneel thing the teacher from behind the piano stood up and spoke. He doesn't usually speak in these things, that's weird but he's nice. He announces that he's no longer joining us next year. I don't remember how the crowd of hypnotised students responded, however my memory chooses to play it back with a collective gasp and screams of extreme pain and agony.

It takes a while so sink in that I will no longer see this teacher daily walking with his mug of coffee and politely opening doors for people. I will no longer be able to compliment his bizarre choices of ties and experimental growth of facial hair. I'm filled with this weird sentimental feeling which swelled slowly as we walked back to school.

 But I'm not the one who's affected the most. I can still function in my normal everyday school without the teacher and his mug of coffee and polite door-opening manners. I could sit here and write about how I will cry in the corner of my room each night clutching a picture of him but I will be lying. And as I read back this last paragraph, I realise how cold it sounds but what I'm saying is that there are other students who he actually teaches and other people who are his friends in that school who will constantly miss his presence.

And what makes me most sad is that the teacher leaving the school signifies that nothing is going to be stable forever. There is a fact that things will change and move on even though it may leave a crowd of crying students behind.

Different Me (A cringeworthy title for a kind of weird post)

You every get that flashback where you seem to see yourself from a third-person perspective? Now that exams had finished I feel like when I look back to myself months ago I was a bit more energetic and talked a lot (perhaps more than humanly necessary). But now, I just don't make much effort.

This had occurred to me more prominently when, on one of my first lessons back, I had walked to my classroom early and it was only me and my teacher in the room. The silence was horrible but she was preoccupied with fiddling with the computer for a few minutes before trying to converse with me (to which I responded with unenthusiastic nodding or shaking of my head).

Upon noticing this, she said a few words that still resonate in my mind and make me shiver and thirsty whenever I think of it. "Did you lose your voice?" to which I responded with an unenthusiastic head shake. No. I didn't lose my voice.

Why did she come to this conclusion? Was it because during those few moments of silence alone, a-few-months-ago-me would've tried to make a horrible joke or muse about the weather as an attempt to break the ear shattering silence? Had I lost a piece of my soul while being under the stress of the exams? Will I ever regain this? Or am I still the same person who just constantly tries to be someone they want to be whilst perpetually feeling inadequate?

Or maybe I stress over smaller, impertinent things in my life because there's no major life changing event happening. This is why I shouldn't be allowed to think alone for a significant amount of time.

Thanks for reading. Nice face.(I could come up with a better general compliment but I think that's pretty good)

You know that feeling (a painfully detailed yet still managing to be vague description of a feeling)

This is very important.

So, a few hours ago from this very moment ('very moment' means right now as I am typing this... I seem to refer to my typing the actual post during the post like it's something important that people should know. Like "oh, I'm thinking of it right now." It's really not that important.)

Wait. Right. A few hours ago one of my Rubik's cube pieces came of and fell into the floor. And it wasn't just a Rubik's cube falling into the floor at that time, it all seemed to happen in slow motion where my room was filled with only the taunting echo of that small plastic piece that I will never find ever again.

I looked at my floor, contemplating whether or not it's a good idea to waste a few minutes trying to find it but battled against it.

A few minutes after that, as I occupy myself with other activities (being vague about said other activities may seem very suspicious but I like to convey some mystery) I find myself thinking about that one piece of Rubik's cube somewhere in my floor. What if I ever want to solve it?

I would only get to solve 26/27 sides. It's not an accomplishment because I could only ever say I have solved 96.296 % of the cube (and that is more difficult to say than 'I solved 100% of the cube')

The Internet Influence.

Yesterday, amidst my procrastination from studying for my exam (which is actually tomorrow... this is how you can tell I will do well...) my laptop stopped charging, to which I panicked at and immediately tried to find some sort of solution before the battery would give up. Somehow, it had felt like someone was playing some sort of sadistic game with me where I have to solve this problem to save my life.

 Then it hit me. Literally. Well, no, not literally.

This was what my life predominantly revolved around. Without my computer I would have nothing to do. I cannot imagine what life is like without an internet connection. As soon as I wake in the morning, this is the first thing I go to and circulate around the same websites for amusing things and when I get home from school this is the first thing I would return to, just to circulate back again to the exact websites in hopes of a glimpse something new.

As I type this revelation (yeah, I wrote 'revelation') right now, I wonder to myself how someone could spend so much time sitting in front of this small piece of machinery and contently type or watch things for hours. Though, I guess the internet does have advantages like the fact that it's almost another universe where you get to communicate with other people in the world that you would otherwise never reach. And without this computer or the internet I wouldn't be able to type what I'm typing right now into this blog about how computers are evil and will soon take over the universe.

 I often heard one of my psychology teachers talk about the impact of the ever evolving social media to people (us) and that would be around the time my mind would wander off to other things like unicorns. But, I guess, this is something that is happening and maybe subtly affecting us. It's weird, I imagine in the future they will refer to this era as the regression of human evolution where we all spent way too much time in the computer watching Game of Thrones (which is totally not what I just spent 8 hours on... totally... but dragons....)

Narwhals: the unicorns of the sea.

As I listen to sir David Attenborough talk about narwhals and call them 'the unicorns of the sea' I laugh quietly to myself before realising how much I need this man to make a documentary on unicorns and how this may never ever (ever) happen.

Awkward. (a fictional situation with a paranoid protagonist)

I shift slightly in my seat as I hear the first person open the door. They don't say 'Hi'. Maybe I was supposed to say that. Shit. Too late. They're already sitting down on the chair across me so I smile at their smile and pick up my messy, doodle-raped notebook from the desk next to me. How professional.

 Okay. Calm down. I want to come across as confident. And I try so hard but I suddenly couldn't find the page where I scribbled the questions I prepared and, holy shit, I'm frantically flipping through the pages like a maniac. Where is it? It feels like someone from an alternate dimension came just right specifically to this moment, went to my question page and ripped it out. They must think this is funny right now. Haha. No.

 The person in front of me is looking at me. I can feel it. They're about to ask if I'm alright and I'll give them a passive 'yes' which, really means 'no' but they wouldn't talk anymore after that. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. Fuck this. And fuck you, notebook.

 I place the notebook back to the desk and clear my throat. "So…"

I can literally feel the awkwardness seeping out of me and spreading across the room. The person in front of me seems to wait for the rest of my sentence. Don't they get it? That was all I had. I have no continuation to this 'so', it has a similar conversational value to an inverted rhetorical question.

"This weather, huh?" I continue. As soon as those words left my mouth I felt a tug in my stomach, like my body was trying to physically suck what I just said back and keep it locked inside never to be said again. The stranger in front of me looks like a flashbulb lit up in front of their head.

 At this point, I've given up and just stay silent. I am starting to contemplate just staring into their eyes until they feel completely uncomfortable. But, as I glance into the notebook next to me I see the stupid fucking questions written right there.

A jumble of thoughts (also the premise of being drunk)

Today there was a wedding and I'm not sure about my feelings about weddings quite yet. I mean, I haven't attended much and this is kind of maybe my first ever proper wedding attendance. It was almost exactly as I've imagined it with the whole "Do you take this person to have and to hold, to love and to cherish" thing and then with the "I dos" and "Does anyone think theses people shouldn't get married?"

Though what's interesting is that I thought it wouldn't be that because I've developed what I would describe as 'realism-borderline-pessimism' way of thinking where I reject the idea of anything perfect happening in life just like in those stupid media perceptions that we've been exposed to like horrible radiation killing off braincells one by one.

 Anyways, so there was a very long after party and to those of you who don't know, I am within the 'teen' groups. Here's how I look at any family gathering: there would be 3 groups of people, the adults who chat and drink and dance, the children who play and run and eat and last but not the least the teens.

The teens are quite complex because either we get along or we don't, in the rare occasion that we do we will probably sneak off and look for internet connection somewhere or talk about genial things like our phone brands and video games. But what's even MORE interesting with such a situation is that the wedding reception area is FILLED with alcohol. There are bottles being dangled in front of the teens like those little lazer pointers that people use to taunt their cats.

 I didn't really find much other teens other than my brother and one other friend we've known already so all three of us decided to try some of those odd bottles filled with horrible tasting liquid. I may, at some point drank a whole cup of what I thought was coke (which I will then turn out to be half coke, half 40% vodka)

 Reiterating my point as a 'realism-borderline-pessimism' believer I didn't think people would ever actually speak in such gatherings and start friendships and whatnot because that only happens in movies. But I realise as a slightly drunk person I am more friendly even though I was often unaware of the things coming out of my mouth. I met this dude who was really weird and we talked until it was time to clean up but I don't remember what we talked about and he suddenly enquired about my phone — I'm not those people who remembers their own phone number so I just started to sweep the floor with a broom (poorly).

 Yeah, this stuff happened like a few hours ago and I just got back.

Who drunkenly writes a long blog story?

*points to self* this person.

This is also partly for my morning self to look at and be like oh, groan. No. Why.

The evolution of the Queen's head.

Yesterday I was looking at my coins (as you do) and was shocked to find out something. Something that blew mind and still leaves little aftershocks right in this moment.

 The Queen's head on the pound £ coins are different!

Surely it's logical, but somewhere in the back of my mind I had this odd assumption that every single pound coin has the SAME head but it's different for EVERY year.

Now I'm just thinking about whether or not the Queen enjoys this day where she has to model every year for our pound coin; the coins that we just manhandle with our dirty, common hands. She kind of looks uncomfortable... is it nerve wrecking? I mean, this is like having your passport photo printed on MILLIONS of tiny coins for everyone to see...

...and I will take a stab in the dark with the assumption that she probably isn't allowed to make funny faces. That would be hilarious, though. Like a special edition coin.

I spent too much time thinking about that.

A presentation.

Reasons Why You Should Occasionally Be Lazy and It's Okay (a self reassuring post).

Okay, so people often talk about doing other things with their time like maybe picking a hobby which involves arts and crafts or some musical instrument to make sure to 'use their time wisely' which seems like an odd concept. I'll also hear those who do such activities as a 'therapeutic' thing which helps them relax. And we all strive to get to that much anticipated moment where everything will stand still and we will rock slowly in our hammock of abyss and serenity.

I think that a good, much cheaper and less energy consuming way of possibly achieving such a state of relaxation is just being lazy for a temporary amount of time (this could span from about 20 minutes to even a whole day). Literally try to forget everything and our urge to strive to be better human beings and relax for a second (this is a practice I've mastered... but speaking from experience doing this for too long may have some bad consequences).

Biologically speaking this is beneficial. By physiologically calming our body, our blood pressure lowers and may avoid some stressors (I mean temporarily but it's still good) which often cause production of the 'stress hormones'-- to mention adrenaline and corticosteroids (too much cortisol production without being actually used may suppress our immune system leaving our body susceptible to many pathogens).

Also, it's just nice.

So in conclusion, spend some time doing nothing and relaxing. Maybe listen to some psychedelic shit. Relax. *plays some chill ocean waves... birds singing...*

How I wasted 2 weeks of my life.

It went by too fast. You know that feeling when your holding something really important like maybe you caught a fish after hours of sitting around (I mean while fishing, not just literally sitting around and randomly getting the urge to grab a fish from water with your BARE HANDS- that would be weird). Then you finally catch that magnificent creature, holding it close to your arms like a newborn baby (is it obvious I know nothing about catching fish?) then it moves frantically, slipping away from you like you just sneezed on that fucker. Just like that, almost in slow motion it's out of your grasp.

That's how my two weeks of Easter went. Now it's 12.21 at night (or should I say morning) I have to wake up in a few hours and go to college. I know I will fall asleep because I will have a chance during one of my two Philosophy lessons to doze off.

I remember at the beginning making an action plan. I will equally divide all of this massive amounts of free time to focus on preparation for my exams. None of the things in my action plan has been crossed of.

Life sucks sometimes but at least you always have a blog to complain on. (*generic conclusion sentence I have no idea how I'm typing this my brain is beating*)

Screen Caps II

Questions Answered.

Remember that time when I answered questions from a blog except I only picked questions that I felt like answering at the time? Maybe there's a reason I ignored some of those questions but now I vow to answer those questions without even looking yet...

yeah, I remember the reason (there are 80 QUESTIONS!!) but I will power through.

• Name something you lost or gave away that can never be replaced.

I lost "The Magician's Nephew" and was so sad that I can't even bear the thought of buying a copy/ borrowing one from the library.

• What 5 websites do you visit often, and why?

Hotmail, Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, Fmylife-- mostly for social networking/blogging/checking if I got any homework from teachers.

• Name a totally useless possession and how you came to acquire it.

A tiny harmonica that I got from a museum gift shop. I was amused with it for like 2 hours.

• What music album would be used for a movie about your life?

'Last Night on Earth'- Noah and the Whale

• List your bad habits and/or addictions and what you have tried to rid yourself of them.

Mentos. I stopped having money.

• If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be, and what would you do if later on you changed your mind?

Losing confidence in front of groups of people, not in an 'I'm socially awkward' way (that's a different story) but in terms of making speeches.

• What are your religious beliefs? Have they changed, or have they always stayed the same?

No.

• When was your last food craving, and what did you crave?

Carrot sticks.

• Who was your first crush and what made them special?

I can't say that here. I also can't say I remember but the last one I remember was this boy who worked in the candy shop (maybe his job had some influence with this)

• Name your most cherished childhood memory.

One time, me and my brother tried to build a fort using banana leaves and a tree and we thought we could survive there (until it started raining)

• Turn to an entry in your journal or diary from a year or more ago. What has changed and what has stayed the same since then?

I don't do diaries. I blog. I still blog. I'm more boring.

• What is one thing nobody knows about you because nobody ever cared to ask?

Nobody knows about my slightly deformed finger. I don't blame them, this may be a difficult topic to introduce in a conversation.

• Robert Frost wrote a poem titled The Road Not Taken. Name a road you’ve always wanted to travel. Where do you hope it takes you, and what might you see on the way?

Any road against my normal route to school or bus/train station. I've always been too afraid to change my daily routines.

• Name one thing you always wanted to do, but haven’t. What has prevented you from doing it?

I've always wanted to punch someone who truly deserves it. Just one punch so I can say I punched someone in the face. I'm too scared about possible consequences.

• Write about your first kiss. Was it everything you wished or hoped it would be?

No. First kisses aren't like they show you in Disney. They lied. It's bad but you don't know it's bad because you have no comparison and neither of you have had practice. You forget about the whole head tilt and your noses crush uncomfortably against each other and it's awkward because one of the two would think it's a short close mouthed kiss and the other one will tongue swirl you like a mad french man.

• What was the worst mistake or decision you have ever made in life? What could you have done differently?

Procrastination. Sitting around thinking I can't do anything while at the same time not doing anything about not doing anything. I could change this by doing something.

• What song was stuck in your head recently, and what were you doing at the time that made you think of it?

'We Are Young' by Fun. It came on shuffle while I was thinking about ponies. Then I started to listen closely to the lyrics and realised it touches upon domestic violence and a sorry lover wanting to take it back.

• Describe 5 things you want to see or do before it’s too late.

1. See 'Ingrid Michaelson' live. I love her.
2. Publish a book. Because I like the idea of my words being physically engraved onto paper and being carried around by people and people I like reading things I wanted them to read.
3. Run a marathon.
4. Make someone go through a meaningful scavenger hunt which involves clever clues and places with awesome confederates.
5. Do a successful research on a significant subject.

• Write about something you now know that you wish you knew earlier in life. How could this knowledge have helped you?

The idea that people are subconsciously attracted to people who are genetically desirable, like the idea the faces being in proportion and strong jaw lines will push people to be more likely to want to ...mate with them. This kind of means that when someone says, "Nice boobs." it means, "your breasts look like they will provide sufficient cushion and milk for our possible offspring so they may have strong teeth and bones to survive in the jungle we call society." It would've explained a lot.

I'll post the rest later. (Maybe never... just kidding... but seriously 80 questions...)

The Shakespearean Clearout.

By the time I was 10, I wasn't as academically (or even just generally) evolved as the bright and genius kids so I remember being able to read sentences and taking a while to absorb them. Sometimes I would read through sentences and just pick out the stuff I understood because I'm too impatient and I want to know when something interesting is going to happen. So I miss out on the little wordplays and clues the authors had put in. What a sucky reader.

Then my mother got this box of Shakespeare stories, just literally a 'kid-version-summary' of his plays with some illustrations that some may find brilliant (though at the time I, again, remember thinking they were the ugliest drawings I've ever seen) I never liked much of the stories there, there was a tale of 'Romeo and Juliet' which I've heard a lot of and made it a horrible read knowing *spoiler* they were both going to die at the end.

The only story I liked was 'Twelfth Night' because it was probably the only one without a tragic death at the end. And I wondered if Shakespeare was some sort of sadistic man that hated everyone and if he was ever a modern Hollywood film director his ending would be the main protagonists holding hands along a sunset before getting machine gunned by an angry third person.

Now I'm wondering what I should do with these stories... bury them in some sort of radioactive proof box so that after earth is wiped down by a meteor the next generation of living organisms will discover them and display them in a museum? Possibly try to analyse it and look at those ugly drawings with curiosity?

Screen caps

I screencap things when I find them amusing then forget about them. Now I share..

I make long posts about stuff I don't want to forget

Today, I had more free periods than actual lessons. Which is nice to some degree, but there's a point where I feel like I'm wasting my time. My undying itch for something productive to do will surface and will start to plan things, maybe make a list. I don't end up doing anything productive and this list will be discarded.

I got home early and looked at the mass of work that I needed to do. Now would've been a perfect time to make a list. Is there enough time? I lie on my bed contemplating, the lids of my eye starts to get heavy. I'll just nap for 10 minutes.

2 hours later, a majority of my duvet is on the floor and I can't tell if it's morning or night. I turn back to my computer and write about my day. Is this even worth publishing?

Cleverbot.

Many people tend to start conversations with, 'Hello'. I like to take a different direction (and also not talking to actual people. (pardon the typing errors-- I don't spellcheck my convos with Cleverbot-- though I seem to write mini essays)

Entry of a stranded person no. 3

#3

I hate this life ('this' refers to the real one). It's filled with morons and noises and noises made by those morons. It's filled with the idea that a person's social status directly correlates with the amount of friends they have in Facebook. With people spending hours doing nothing but staring at a computer screen and then worrying about future and not being able to have one while they still manage to do nothing in the present. People typing 'LOOOOL' (which I must also admit to) when 'LOL' stands for 'Laughing out loud', ridiculously 'LOOOOL' must then be translated to 'Laughing out out out out loud'. Grr.

Entry of a stranded person no. 2

#2

The end is nearing. I can feel it. Today as I explored further into this seemingly endless land, the ground beneath me shook. I've always felt that since I got here; small vibrations beneath my bare feet as if wanting to shake me back or an angry roar from the burning core of the planet. But this time was different. I can feel it.

Entry of a stranded person no. 1 (an unsubtle metaphor)

#1

I don't know why I've let it go this far. The island that surrounds me acts as a barrier against the world. The real world. I don't understand how this isn't real if the burning grains of sand I touch that laces through my fingers feel just as real as the rigid concretes of my old life.

'Tis the truth I speak of

When I say you capture my heart

You envelop it between your arms

And deliver life to it's veins

Thank you, my lungs.

(*haha, biology joke)

SON OF A

I'll make this brief, not long and rambl-y (who am I kidding?)

I like swearing.

Not in the mean, swearing at old ladies or children or puppies kind of swearing.

Just swearing out of frustration while you're alone or when you don't think people can hear you.

It's cathartic. A nice feeling of release like when you punch pillows except this is less tiring.

I don't think swearing is a bad thing as long as you don't use it to hurt people.

But that would almost be the same as saying it's okay to shoot guns as long as you don't aim.

Though you can't really kill people by swearing.

So, swear moderately.

It's good for you.

ABNKKBSNPLAko?!

It sucks when you don't realise how important something is... and sure, this vague entrance towards this post may make it seem like some sort of sappy whining and moaning about a boy but it's not. It's more like something that makes you unique and self-defining and the fear of that something as it slowly slips away from your grasp.

So I thought it would be good to try to get into some literature from my language. I didn't want to start with some deep filipino-translation of any Jose Rizal works quite so soon because that seems to equivalent giving a 5 year old Jane Eyre instead of a nice picture book (though i didn't want to start with picture books either) so I thought I would begin with some modern-humour kind of things.

Bob Ong is awesome.

I haven't read much of his work but from most of what I've read so far he is awesome. So here's a brief translation from 'ABNKKBSNPLAko?!' (take note that I'm not a professional translator and I'm just sharing a part that amuses me)

For:

Teachers

Students

Ones who used to be students

Ones who don't want to be students

Drop outs

Kick outs

Transferees

Cross-enrolled

And honour students

...

But being able to read is not a joke, it's a rite of passage. If you can read you are baptised to what they call 'literate'. You can read the lies from the newspapers, subtitles from foreign films and vandalism on the seats of busses like 'The person reading this is an idiot'