Evolution of My Heartache Through Music

Took this from my private blog. This was written months ago.

Music heals heartbreak. It's a known fact. When people are depressed about their lovelives, they plug in their iPods, turn the volume up, and start sobbing over sappy love songs, reminiscing about their exes. Everyone goes through this, and everyone has a playlist: their personal soundtrack detailing the ups and downs of their heartbreak.

Without further ado, here is my playlist.

Stage I: Denial

Damn, I was stuck here for so long that I was living in an alternate reality. Good thing he set me straight so I could get on with my life.

Here are songs that basically say, Hey, we broke up. But no worries, we'll be back together again because it's "meant to be."

Yuh, right.

• We Belong Together: Mariah Carey
• Back to Me: The All-American Rejects Can't you see, I beg and plead... I know you're gonna find your way back to me.
• Always Be My Baby: Mariah Carey You'll always be a part of me. I'm part of you indefinitely. Don't you know you can't escape me, oh darling coz you'll always be my baby.
• Never Say Never: The Fray Don't let me go. (That says it all.)

Stage II: Anger

I don't really remember going through this stage. Maybe because I was too busy punching walls and screaming his name.

Nah, I'm just kidding. :))

• Smile: Lily Allen At first, when I see you cry, yeah it makes me smile. Effing bitter, but every time I sang it, it made me feel that much better.
• Alert the Armory: Urbandub What we have built is gone... I'm so sick of you and love! Gabby Alipe, how do you write awesome lyrics that speak right to my heart?

Stage III: Bargaining

Ah, bargaining. The phase where you beg, and plead, and cry, and pull your hair desperation, just wanting your former lover to come back, damn it! Hahaha.

• Please Don't Leave Me: Pink
• Lovefool: The Cardigans I don't care if you really care, as long as you don't go.
• Fallin' Apart: The All-American Rejects Wherever you go I'm crawling, even when we're falling apart.
• Cold Summer Nights: Francis Magalona Is there a way for you to turn around, turn around and come back baby? The original is always better.
• Come Around: Rhett Miller I'm gonna be lonely for the rest of my life, unless you come around.

Stage IV: Depression 

Hoo boy, this is gonna take a while. I went through this stage for so long, the songs below have been played more than once daily (usually at night, when I would cry).

• The Fight is Over: Urbandub. The entire song is so ball-crushingly painful to a brokenhearted person. Here's a choice lyric (my personal fave). How did we end this way? Our promises thrown away. All the years we built, broken up, see it crashing down.
• The End of Something: Urbandub It feels like the end of it all. We're strangers again. All promises lost... Could this be the end of something beautiful?
• Breakdown: Bone Thugz 'n Harmony & Mariah Carey. The lyrics are so damn awesome. Perfect for those who choose to mask their sadness when they're out with friends. Underneath the guise of a smile, gradually I'm dying inside... I wear my disguise 'til I go home at night, then turn down all the light, then I break down and cry.
• Gone: Urbandub It doesn't ease the pain at all, that you're gone.
• Lover Among Ruins: Urbandub. To me, your goodbye was the last thing on my mind. I tried to reply but was left there tongue-tied.

Stage V: Acceptance

Yay! I think I'm very near here.

Such an incredible accomplishment!

• One Year, Six Months: Yellowcard I can tell that you don't know me anymore.
• Anthem: Urbandub There's no time and no name here for us now. I'm sorry, but we're much too late.
• Swing, Swing: The All-American Rejects I'll find someone new... My heart is crushed by a FORMER love... I'm moving on.
• Cool: Gwen Stefani. Seriously, I wanna be friends someday. After all the obstacles, it's good to see you now with someone else.
• Clean and Sober: Anya Marina I'm glad it's over. I've never felt so clean and sober.
• Lovesick: Anya Marina I'm sick of feeling lovesick over you.

Lots of Urbandub songs here. This is why I love them. Especially Gabby Alipe. His lyrics are amazing. *worship*

Music, as always, helped me hold on to the remaining shreds of sanity that I have. :D

Lonelier tonight.

Loneliness—it's underrated. -Tom Hansen, 500 Days of Summer

Lately, I've been feeling quite lonely. In the morning and afternoon when my mom is awake, I can forget about my sadness for a little while. But when the sun sets and the stars begin to appear, I can feel my heart grow heavier and heavier.

Contrary to what some may think, everyone has moments of loneliness, no matter how many friends they have.

When other people get lonely, they usually seek out their friends who can cheer them up. The problem is, when I'm lonely, I tend to isolate myself.

The more I isolated myself, the more isolated I'd feel. -Pete Wentz 

When I'm lonely, I keep away from other people (especially happy ones) because I don't want to bring them down. If I'm unhappy, I can keep it to myself—or to my blog—for days at a time.

I feel like one of those people who are so freaking miserable that they can't be around normal people. Like I'll infect the happy people. -Meredith Grey

I'd like to think that loneliness is an illusion, that all it takes is a little change of pace for me to feel better. So tomorrow, I'm going to the movies with my girlfriends, then I'm going to sleep over at my best friend's house and reconnect with a friend I haven't seen in a long time. Hopefully, that will shake me out of my blues.

Dear college freshmen,

Last March, I finished my frosh year in college. All I can say is... It's a tough world out there. A lot of things are different. In college, getting caught with your pants down is a thousand times more embarrassing than when you were in high school.

So, for college freshmen out there, here are a few tips based on my own experience:

1. High school had nothing on the workload that college gives. If you had a hard time in high school, you will die in college. Welcome to the world of late-nighters, endless papers, caffeine, and nosebleed-inducing exams.
2. Be prepared to get shot down by your professors. In high school, when you screw up, you can cry and beg your teacher to give you a chance, and it'll usually work. However, in college, you will not be given that luxury. Take it from me: I've sacrificed my pride and begged several of my professors for a higher grade. Not a single one of them caved.
3. Study, study, study! Having a 5 (or 1, in some colleges) on your transcript will not do you any good, especially in the future when applying for a job. (What right do I even have to say this—I got an Incomplete grade last semester.)
4. Do not discriminate schools, or courses, for that matter. I am not so hypocritical as not to admit that I, too, am sometimes guilty of this. But let me tell you something: arguing over which school is the best will not accomplish anything except to infuriate you and every student of the school you're bashing.
5. Join orgs! Do as much as you can to enrich your college experience. Find one that fits your passion—writing, acting, singing... There's an org for everybody.
6. Be prepared to meet different kinds of people. High school was one world, college is entirely another. You might get culture shock if you enter college without an open mind. People you might meet: the "wild" girls who get drunk at parties, the "jerks" who brag about sexual conquests, people with dark stories you thought existed only in movies...
7. Make time for your high school friends. They'll be your break from the stress of college life—you'll need them.

Other things I learned in my first year of college:

1. In high school, you were probably labeled. You can change all that in college.
2. No matter what your course is, you cannot escape having a Math subject.
3. Commuting might make you feel independent at first, but as the semester goes on, you will curse rush hour.
4. Ped Xing is not a street named after a Chinese man.

Insecure, pathetic, or both?

Tonight is one of the times that I feel inadequate. *insert appropriately sad sigh here*

I don't know why. I really don't know why.

People are unique and special in their own ways, blah blah blah, but sometimes one cannot help but compare oneself to somebody else.

Have you ever been in a situation when you'd rather not stand next to someone because you feel like a complete nothing next to her? Is it just me, or does everybody, at one point or another, feel like this?

My friend says I shouldn't be insecure because a lot of people admire me. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry—how could people possibly admire me? Honey, if you're trying to make me feel better, lying ain't the way. Thanks for the attempt, though. :">

Anyway... I'm feeling really low tonight. Might just stay here and chat with random people to take my mind off things.

Apparently, I write like the shizz. Yay! \:D/

What's one of the best feelings in the world? When you someone tells you how good your work is.

I've been a bit insecure with my blog posts lately, because they seem like such nonsense. It's such an ego boost to find out that people do like my work. :D

What makes me even happier is that I stuck to my writing principles. I don't try to write about things I think would interest other people, I wrote about things that interested me personally.

Number One

"I'm going."

Those words, those two simple words, made my breath catch. My mind struggled to make sense of this piece of information. "Where?"

"To America. Chicago, actually. My dad's being relocated."

Silence. Then...

"Oh," I said with an attempt at a smile. It came off as a wince. "When?"

"Next week."

Next week? How come it's such short notice? What will happen to me, without you? I haven't even told you how I felt. And now you're leaving?

"Well then, we'll have to arrange a going-away party!" The last word came out sounding strangled, as my throat felt like closing up.

"Hey..." You looked at me with those sparkling brown eyes, your forehead wrinkled in concern. "Are you okay?"

I swallowed with difficulty before answering, "Of course. I'll just miss you, that's all."

No, I'm not okay, my head screamed. You're going to America. You're leaving me. God, do you even know how much I'll miss you? Your smile, your laugh, the way you talk while chewing your food.

You raised an eyebrow as if to say, seriously? "I'll miss you, too."

I haven't even gotten the chance to tell you how much I love you. 

My eyes burned as I looked down. A tear fell to the floor, and another one, and another. "I'm being overemotional, as usual," I said with a fake laugh before drawing courage to look at you again. To my utter amazement, you were crying, too.

You had never cried in front of me before, or anyone else, for that matter. I stopped crying long enough to ask you, "What's wrong?"

"Everything." He furiously fisted away his tears. "I don't want to leave."

It was a new experience, seeing you, who had always acted so tough and so cold, cry.

"Aw, you'll be fine over there. You can make new friends, see new places. You've always hated the heat here in the Philippines, anyway." My chin was quivering. "Please don't cry. I'm having a hard enough time as it is."

"You don't understand..." You looked at me again, but those eyes held a new intensity that suddenly made me tremble. "I don't want to leave you."

Is he a better lover than I?

When a guy breaks up with me because he was cheating, I'd prefer it if he was doing it with another guy. Yes, you read that right: I'd rather find out that my boyfriend is gay, rather than find out that he is a womanizing pig.

My pride plays a part in this twisted philosophy. If my boyfriend breaks up with me because he is gay, I figure, it's not my fault. His homosexuality is to blame, and not any shortcomings on my part.

On the other hand, if I find out that he is cheating on me with a girl, then a thousand insecurities would attack me: What does she have that I don't? Do you find her prettier than me? Funnier? More clever? More interesting?

If a boyfriend cheats on me with a guy, then I know that my only shortcoming is not having a penis. And that is not my fault.

All up in smoke.

A friend of mine liked this on Facebook, and it pissed me off so much.

Alcohol and cigarettes. People think they're two of the worst things that can happen to someone. Apparently, drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes makes you a good-for-nothing bastard.

I find this kind of labeling incredibly superficial. Granted, I despise all kinds of social labeling, but this one just makes me so mad.

Suppose you met this guy. He's good-looking, charming, smart, funny, sweet, kind, generous—everything you've ever wanted, actually. Through some kind of inconceivable twist of fate, he falls for you. Then you find out that—mother of pearl!—he has the occasional drink and cigarette. 

Do you let go of this otherwise perfect guy, or do you look at the big picture?

Do you understand what I'm trying to say here? I mean, there are worse things you can find in a person than having these vices. You could be turned off by arrogance, cruelty, rudeness, dullness of mind, a demeaning attitude towards women—a thousand worse things, I think, than smoking and drinking.

The problem is that some people feel the need to label others because their tiny, shallow, closed minds cannot comprehend that there might be more to someone than meets the eye.

A Letter to Noynoy Aquino

To Senator Noynoy Aquino:

Well, you've done it. It seems that you will be the country's next president. His Excellency. Commander-in-Chief.

Now, let me tell you something. It makes me so, so sad that you won the election. My dislike for you is so strong that I even prefer Manny Villar over you. I truly believe that you can never hope to measure up to Gilbert Teodoro, my presidential candidate. You have no notable achievements, no bills passed in the Senate—nothing, really, other than the fact that you are the son of two icons of Filipino democracy.

Having said that, I am now begging you: please, please prove me wrong. Please show me that you can change the Philippines for the better. Please increase employment, lessen poverty, abolish corruption. Live up to your promises. Exceed expectations. Show your voters that they made the right decision. Please.

If you do that, I will gladly eat every anti-Noynoy word I have said thus far, because I'd rather swallow my pride and say, "Hey, Noynoy's doing a pretty good job," than say, "See, I told you you shouldn't have voted for him!"

Sincerely,

a concerned citizen of our beloved Philippines.

A post about material things I want.

So tomorrow (or rather, later) I'm going to Trinoma with Mama, Tita Ninang, Dylan, Tita Anne, and Mommy. As usual, my very generous mom will treat us all to an expensive lunch.

It's been a week, and all I can think of is buying those sneakers. Tomorrow, I'll go to Zoo York... and drool. Just drool.

Anyway, my new Samsung phone has a headset jack, so I'll be buying a new pair of earphones. Preferably, I'd buy really cool earphones that aren't just black or white, like these cute Paul Frank ones:

Or these Lego ones, which I really love:

Oh, god, I'm going to spend my 30K before my birthday comes around! Must... exercise... self-control...

Election Ramblings

It's utterly, completely, totally unfair that I don't get to vote. In three months, I will be eighteen, yet I am denied the right to vote for my country's next leaders!

A lot of my friends have turned eighteen already, yet I don't know anyone who has registered to vote, which quite annoys me because I believe that participating in elections is our obligation to the country. If I were eighteen already, not only would I register to vote but I would also like to be a poll watchdog, like Juan (who, by the way, is an awesome writer. Check out his insights on Philippine politics).

On Tumblr, a lot of people are talking about the upcoming elections—who they're gonna vote for, who they're not gonna vote for, and all the corresponding reasons. To my pleasant surprise, quite a lot are for either Gilbert Teodoro or Richard Gordon. I myself am rooting for Gibo, because I believe in his capabilities. However, I suppose Gordon wouldn't be bad, either. 

I just don't want Noynoy Aquino to win. My apologies to Aquino supporters, but I remain dubious of his abilities—so much that I think I'd prefer Manny Villar over him. There, I said it. Cut off my tongue, why don't ya?

As for the candidates for the position of vice president, I am very much for Bayani Fernando. Under his term of office as mayor, Marikina has flourished into the successful city it has become: with lots of jobs, housing, and most notably, a clean environment.

BF is sometimes called Hitler because of his firmness in enforcing laws, and some say he is too heartless. I say, the Philippines, with its undisciplined citizens, need an iron fist. Someone with political will, who isn't afraid of making the unpopular yet right decisions for the greater good of the country. The Philippines needs Bayani Fernando.

Our next leaders to be a force for change and progress. Please, voters, think before you shade the circles on the ballot sheet. The next president could potentially put our country on top—or altogether destroy it.

UP: Unending Pressure

I'm sure that Peter Angelo will find the title to be witty, like Unending Plates. Bwahaha! K. :))

Earlier tonight, I asked my mom where I would study law after finishing AB Behavioral Science.

She replied, "UP, of course."

That means I have to take the UPLAE. *sigh* I'm sorry, I'm just not up for another rejection from UP!

Ever since I was a high school sophomore, my mom has always told me that I needed to pass the UPCAT. I never thought much of it until I was a high school senior and realized that the UPCAT was becoming less of an idea and more a huge, terrifyingly real, obstacle. 

The pressure was on, and it wasn't just from my mom. My then-boyfriend, who studies in UP, also kept telling me that passing the UPCAT was important to our relationship. Ironically, he constantly told me that I wouldn't pass.

It was early June that I took the UPCAT. My hands were shaking as I sat down and looked at the paper. And all I kept thinking was, "Oh, my god. [Insert name of ex here] was right, I will never pass this in a million years! This is too hard! Too hard! Too hard! TOO HARD!"

I did the best I could. Afterwards, when I left the room, I was on the verge of tears—tears of frustration, depression, disappointment. My mother could not understand why I was so crushed. Comfort came in the form of a friend, who told me, "Ikaw, di papasang UPCAT? Pssh. Ipasa mo yan tapos isampal mo sa mukha niya [referring to my ex]."

Several months later, when my mom was thinking about her plans for me now that I was about to enter college, quite unexpectedly, I broke down crying. Between hiccups, I told her that passing the UPCAT was a very slim possibility, that I was scared of letting her down. She then soothed me, saying that it didn't really matter whether I went to UP or UST.

Now that I'm happily, comfortably settled in UST, I find out that I have to go through all of this again with the UPLAE. Damn it!

What's a good title for a blog full of pictures of food?

Today I accompanied Mom to her office to help her carry her very heavy files. After dropping them off, we went to Trinoma and had "breakfast".

Is it still called breakfast when I ate a Baconator Mushroom Melt at 10AM?

Since Mom and I were too lazy to do some serious window shopping, we only hit a few stores. I went to Zoo York to look at a pair of sneakers that caught my attention last Sunday.

Tell me, is it or is it not worth P3500? That is an absolutely gorgeous pair of shoes. I want it so badly, but I'm refraining from purchasing it because it might be an impulse buy.

Tell you what. If I can find at least five of my clothes that go well with this pair of sneakers, then I am so buying it.

Anyway, we went to Conti's for lunch. If you've never eaten there, then let me tell you THE FOOD THERE IS SO DELICIOUS IT'S LIKE DYING AND GOING TO FOOD HEAVEN. Or something like that.

Case in point. Served with mashed potatoes, the tender slices of beef is smothered with tasty mushroom sauce. Will be having this the next time we dine there.

On a quite different not, our waiter—Gelo, according to his name tag—caught my eye. He was tall, thin, and chinito. I say he's cute, but I'm not so sure. I don't exactly have great judgment in looks.

I've been trying to get mom to go shopping all the month of April. Now that it's May, I'm glad that we're going out again. :D Sometimes this tiny house can get too confining. 

How strange to have a paper love.

Yesterday afternoon, I started reading my newly-bought copy of the Griffin and Sabine trilogy.

In the middle of the second book, Sabine's Notebook, I put it down, feeling reluctant to finish it.

Have you ever read a book that was so good, you didn't want it to end? It felt like that. The correspondence of Griffin and Sabine was so incredible that I dreaded every turn of the page that brought me closer to the end.

Ceremonial Spinning Top. One of Sabine's postcards.

To really understand why I'm completely and utterly in love with this book, you have to read it. The entire mail correspondence is written on beautifully drawn postcards and letters that you actually, physically take out of their envelopes.

If that's not enough for you to read the book, then let me tell you their extraordinary story. Sorry for the spoilers, though.

Griffin Moss is an artist who suddenly receives a postcard from a stranger who seems to know everything about his artwork. The stranger introduces herself as Sabine, and tells him that she could see what he is painting and drawing.

Their correspondence eventually unfolds into a romance as two strangers become intertwined through art.

Griffin finds that Sabine is the missing piece of his life, that she has somehow completes him, that she alleviates his loneliness. However, there seems to be a mysterious force that keeps them apart. Every single attempt they make at meeting failed—one attempt resulted in Griffin's near-death.

Drinking Like a Fish. One of Griffin Moss' postcards.

The book doesn't explain why their destinies are seemingly intertwined and why they are unable to meet. That's the beauty of this mystery—you, the reader, are left with a sense of wonderment.

This afternoon, I unwillingly finished reading all three books. And you know what? Even though I'd read it before, I'm still left with that same sense of loss as when I read it the first time.

Oh, and the title of this blog? Griffin Moss said that in one of his letters to Sabine Strohem. :">

SPOILER ALERT:

I'd like to think that Griffin and Sabine ended up together, and I think I have reason to think so, because the last postcard said "we"—meaning it wasn't just Sabine who was writing.

I wanna be a Candy girl!

About a week ago, Mareng Aya posted this link on my Facebook. It's about an application to be a correspondent for Candy, the number one teen magazine in the country. She told me to go for it, so without much thought, I signed up on the online registration site, which informed me that applicants needed to go to Robinsons Cybergate in Mandaluyong.

As the days went by, I found myself doubting. Am I really gonna go to this go-see? Am I a good enough writer? They might throw me out on my ass!

When I begin to doubt my writing skills, I feel really low. Lower than low. Writing is my passion, you know? My creative outlet. It's something I've always been great at. Once I start to doubt that, I know I'm going into a funk.

Nevertheless, I swallowed my fear and asked Gab to accompany me to Robinsons. Neither of us have been there before, but we took a chance by taking the MRT. Konti kembot lang—a friend told me this, seriously—andun na kami. Ta-da! Piece of cake.

We high-fived our first time to set foot there.

After grabbing lunch at KFC, the two of us went to the Summit Media Office. As we entered the building and the elevator started its ascent, my heart was beating wildly against my chest. I have never been to one of these things before.

Abbey let me go on by myself inside the office. As soon as I entered the registration area, my mind screamed, what the hell am I doing here? People were conversing in English, talking about a supposedly famous someone who I didn't know.

It was with shaking hands that I filled up the application form. It required me to write a short review on a movie I'd recently seen, an album I listened to, or a book I last read. With a smile, I recounted that it was just the other night that I blogged about Enchanted, so I simply rewrote my blog on my application.

The wait for the interview seemed like hours. Although I think it really did take hours.

I got to talking with two girls, Faye and Kristel. 

Faye is a college junior in AMA, while Tel is an incoming UST Architecture frosh. When she mentioned that, I thought back to Peter Angelo's sleepless nights of making plates and immediately warned her, "You're never going to sleep well again."

When my number was finally called, I entered the room literally fucking shaking from head to toe. As in, literally. Fucking. Shaking. When they asked me to smile for the camera, I felt my cheeks trembling. Now I know I looked just awful in that picture.

They asked me to say my name, my school, my hobbies and interests. They asked me to say something about my favorite TV show. They asked me to do a fake commercial to promote Candymag.com.

I think I performed reasonably well, considering that it was the first time I did anything of the sort.

Afterwards, I said goodbye to Tel and Faye. Gab had been waiting for hours, so I apologized endlessly even though she was cool with it. Well, what can I say, walang iwanan ang Alpha Kubeta.

Reflecting on that day, I realized that even if I didn't get the Candy Correspondent gig, I'd still be happy to have had such a nice experience. I met new friends, been to new places, had a new experience, affirmed my passion for writing—how can I not be happy after all that?

Retail Therapy

Today I spent ten thousand pesos in a single shopping trip in Trinoma. Now, as extravagant as it sounds, it's only because of a major purchase: a new cellphone.

This is a Samsung Corby Pro B3410. It's a full touch-screen phone with a sliding QWERTY keypad. It has excellent sound quality and great photo resolution. This baby cost me P7500.

Since this is the first time I bought a cellphone with my own money (even though I didn't save up for it, it's still my money because my mom gave it to me as a birthday present), I'm thinking I should give it a name, kinda like how some people name their laptops or DSLRs. What do you guys think I should name it? Comment, please!

The remaining P2500 of my money, however, I spent in Powerbooks. 

After years of lusting after it, I finally bought the Griffin and Sabine trilogy. Yay! Each book cost P899 each. I also bought Pugad Baboy and Kikomachine Komix.

Yes, I am a dork.

We had lunch at Five Cows, a restaurant/ice cream house where my aunt works. Let me tell you something: the pasta in Five Cows is incredibly delicious, and the ice cream is orgasmic. Seriously. The first time we ate there, I could not get enough of their Ferrero Crunch Supreme.

Today I opted for Balls of Fire, an ice cream baked (?) in a dark chocolate dome. It was set on fire in front of us, which is the main reason why I ordered it. It was okay—bitter, yet satisfying.

When the four of us (me, Mama, Tita Ninang, and my cousin Dylan) finished, we could barely breathe; we were so full.

For dinner, we ate at Oki Oki, a Japanese restaurant. Dylan and I were the only ones who ate sashimi (raw fish were unappealing to our squeamish moms).

It was such a fun day! To a materialistic girl such as myself (I admit it), shopping is one the the best ways to spend a weekend.

Show me the money!

My mom asked me if I would prefer cash over having an eighteenth birthday celebration. She's been suggesting this for months now, and the idea has always appealed to me, but P20,000 wasn't enough for me then to give up celebrating my birthday with friends.

This morning, however, she offered me P30,000. Thirty-freaking-thousand pesos for me not to have a swimming party.

How could I possibly resist that? I started thinking of everything I could buy. I could complete my Pugad Baboy collection. I could finally buy the Griffin and Sabine trilogy I've been lusting after for years. I could have my hair rebonded at David's Salon. I could buy new shorts, Chucks, a brand-new cellphone...

The condition was that she would only give me P10, 000 now and the rest in August, which is fine by me because if she gave me 30 grand right now, I might blow it all in one shopping trip.

The best part of this is, Mama's happy that she won't have to go through the hassle of planning a swimming birthday bash, plus she gets to shell out money in installments.

So later, we're going shopping. Hell to the yeah! :D