The Princess Chronicles

a glimpse of a modern-day princess’ journey, her endless musings, groundless speculations and perfectly rational fantasies in pursuit of her own happily ever after.

Archive for April, 2005


can’t scratch the surface without moving me underneath. i bruise easily so be gentle when you handle me

anyone who can touch you

can hurt you or heal u

anyone who can reach you

can love you or leave u

so be gentle

i bruise easily

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"The heart is a fickle thing. It doesn’t always require extensive time or deep analysis to make up its mind on what it wants. It can happen in a blink. Be prepared. And don’t be afraid to follow its dictates. It’s only when you try to dissect its decisions that you get yourself into trouble. In other words, when it feels right, don’t question it. Just go for it."

-The Cinderella Rules by Donna Kauffman

feels like i’m all the way back where i belong. feels like home to me

     i woke up feeling good today. i am blissful, despite of the school-related anxiety, midterms, and other deadlines i have to meet. i don’t know, i feel energetic and vibrant. so i got up on my feet, stretched my hamstrings and pulled out my striptease CD. next thing i know, i was stripping and teasing, ok i am acting as if i was, and sweating my stuff in one of the corners of my pad. i felt like the epitome of sexiness. alleluia!

     classes were a cinch… my professor asked me to report about something i haven’t even read before, right then and there. weird. but I did report about it, hesitantly. i think i did well, the topic being something you’re supposed to master in pre-med.

     as my academic life for the day is coming to an end, i felt the weirdest sensation. i haven’t been home for quite a while. i haven’t seen home. i haven’t felt like being at home at all. it really is different living alone. i must admit, i missed my family. i missed our funny conversations, witty arguments and cranium-times. and i’m honestly looking forward to it. mushy ain’t it?

     i can never be thankful enough for the answered prayer in the guise of people, i call my family. i know they care about me so much; accept me despite of knowing me too well; make me feel like i have a place in this world. a place with them… and i can’t imagine myself being anywhere else… but home.

a window breaks down a long dark street
and a siren wails in the night
but i’m alright ’cause i have you here with me
and i can almost see through the dark there’s light

your secrets are safe with me. i will keep your secrets. just think of me as the pages in your diary

   

     i have nothing better to do. i’m trying to waste time. i don’t want to be idle. i hate being idle because it would only lead to one thing: worrying.

     in my attempt to fast forward time, i surfed for something good to read to keep my mind preoccupied.

     i love to read blogs, especially those that are personal (though i think it’s wrong to peek in to somebody else’s deep thoughts, but that’s really not my problem now, is it?), those that i know came from the blogger’s soul. i don’t judge anybody’s thoughts. perhaps i envy them for having enough courage to speak up and write everything down in a place where everybody has access to. i am trying to learn that kind of courage, internalize it and use it.

    i get drawn to these blogs because they express so much emotion, that i myself can feel or at least have felt at some point in my life. though the emotions mentioned are not at all alien to me, those posts can sometimes hit me hard on my gut. because the fact is, they feel things and write about it. something i couldn’t fathom how to do. because these authors have the ability to put into words exactly what most of us can feel yet not eloquent enough to do the same. read-LIKE ME.

     that’s the reason why i try not to put too much of a personal stuff here. sometimes i try to share how i feel but i end up doing otherwise. when i feel the need to be direct i can write something as simple as "I’m sad." … (end of line), whenever I am sad. Or put something other than the word sad like … "I’m blue."… (end of line). I wouldn’t really call it a blog post. But then again, it’s my blog, so bugger off. And where’s the fun in being too direct, i like to think of myself as an impressionist rather than an expressionist. but still not as good.

    and maybe because a lot of my thoughts are better left unsaid. not for public viewing. unless I put a different name under it.

     i admire them authors. period.

sun is shining. the weather is sweet

     i am STILL under the sun’s spell… i can’t seem to get over these can’t-get-enough trips to the beach mode. I don’t know if I should blame bob marley whispering;

“the sun is shining, the weather is sweet”

through my iPOD for this mood or just the summery atmosphere.    

Puerto_babes_1

     been four days since I laid under the sun. for me, one of the major purposes for going to the beach was getting a tan. while we were at gale it rained, talk about spoiled fun! but only for a little while. It kinda killed my enthusiasm, you see being at the beach with no sun makes no sense to me. so i really wasn’t able to get color-ed.. i’m still my old pale self.

      there was so much to do and three days weren’t enough for our taste: banana boat ride, snorkeling, shopping for souvenirs, playing water sports, building sand sculptures (?!? Sounds so formal, if you only knew what the girls we’re building!) and just plainly hanging out under the stars, laughing our hearts out.      

    This_is_the_life_star_gazing_while_talki_2 one of the things that I look forward to during outings like this with people who are not related to me by blood is the bonding that usually takes place on a late night at a specific spot with junk food, cigarettes and lots of booze. it’s when i get to witness the other "unpretentious" side of people. it surprises me with what they tend to say without giving much thought of what they’ve said, then regretting in the end for even having to speak up in the first place. or sometimes even regretting what they’ve done. yes, ciara I am referring to you! but I love you still.

     a lot happened; we met a whole new crowd! there was this group of guys who introduced themselves to us. their loser pick-up act… a pack of chicharon and a shot of mindoro sling. bunch of guys (we actually refer to them as oldies, probably in their late twenties) from meralco were also doing their thing, much to my surprise they were ordering beer for us. but we just have to say no. i even have to lie about not having a mobile. they weren’t our types. ;p luckily, the alcohol failed to creep itself to blur our vision and judgment, so the poor souls just have to face rebuff and heartless resounding laughter.

     in conclusion to the drinking sessions we had, there were revealed secrets, sarap tumawa & tipsy lang ako moments, & lessons learned: drink water during the session to somehow increase your tolerance in alcohol ergo getting to drink more and staying awake longer, and also drink water before going to bed to lessen, if not prevent, hangover in the morning.

     as for me, i was careful enough to stay sober. maybe because I didn’t want to miss anything crazy. i can’t wait for the next summer escapade! let’s get crazier, nastier and bolder the next time.

good mourning

We are living a lifetime of goodbyes. As we struggle through our everyday existence we will say goodbye to cherished people, things, events and ideas. Eventually, we say goodbye to life itself with death. It is inevitable. No other option is available to us, other than to learn to say goodbye. Allow one’s self to mourn each loss. As with a physical wound, the body sets its own time to heal.

In the past, we possibly denied ourselves the hurt of loss-through overwork, alcohol, cigarettes… other addictive activities, or sheer force of will. If this is true there remains areas of this past loss unhealed according to Peter McWilliams, author of Life 101.

In other words, stay out of your own way. Let your self hurt and heal in the process. Allow yourself to feel bad. An unavailable portion of yourself is now being reclaimed for future enjoyment, happiness and contentment. Keep in mind that if we do not allow ourselves to heal our ability to experience life is locked away, and the culprit is nobody else but you. You are the one taking the chance of living a joyful life away. The part of ourselves that feels anger and depression is the same one that allows us to feel peace and love. If you refuse to feel anger and the pain of loss, you will not be able to feel anything else until that area heals.

You must realize that life goes on, that loss is a part of life, and that our life can and will be complete without the presence of that which was lost.

hellen keller

many persons have the wrong idea about what constitutes true happiness.

it is not attained through self-gratification but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.

roger de bussy-rabutin

absence is to love what wind is to fire;

it extinguishes the small,

it enkindles the great.

ifs

…if madness is a measure of how much love I can give, then so be it… I am a lunatic bursting with so much love inside of me, until YOU came along and shared this insanity;

… if the amount of tears shed is the basis of strength, then I am not strong, I do not cry… I put up a fight, a real good fight, at least when somebody’s around;

… if money is the gauge of wealth, I am so poor;

… if what I own is the measure of my worth, I am worth nothing, everything I own are the product of my parent’s good economics, all of these material things are their own sweat and blood;

… if having lots of guys run after you is the basis of being a woman, then I choose not to fit that description;

…if the number of true friends is a measure of kindness, am I mean?! I only have a handful;

…if beauty is weighed by the number of fan mails one gets, you’ll find me empty handed;

… if what I know is the criteria for a brilliant mind, damn! i still need heaps of education;

…if experience is the gauge of how far I’ve gone, look for me at the start of the race;

…if the amount of drama I have in my life is a measure of how happy I can be… I’ll be jumping for joy;

…if persistence is an indication of a winner, i will be a determined champion, who have emerged from a sore loser’s cocoon.

11th of April 2005

-written during health ethics class, this is my excuse not to listen to my nasal professor-

     summer classes are never my thing, ain’t cool baby! eversince i entered college i haven’t experienced having a 2-month summer vacation. as i am writing this i am amongst the 30 bored students seated in class with this ho-hum professor talking as slowly as he can trying to make his nonsensical introductory speech to last for three friggin hours. honestly, he seemed like the kind a student would forget the instant he walks out of the room.

     i never credited my professors, except for the rare few (i’m such a goody!) at the school not worthy of mentioning for my knowledge in nursing. when i graduate i know i will be hella proud of myself because i made it on my own. not being spoon-fed and hopeful of their mercy. more so, when i pass the boards. i know i am learning because i want to and i am trying to. with the end-grade not in mind. as opposed to my younger self, i remember, all i did was to make sure that my grade would fall into this acceptable range. young as i was, i never celebrated mediocrity. being average wasn’t in my options. i grew up a struggling over-achiever, i must admit.

     now, sleepless nights are beginning to be rare, study periods shortened, i am keeping an open-mind: learning doesn’t need to happen inside the classroom. my grades are still ok, not over-achiever-ok, but i am having fun, i learned to (outside class). my grades are still above average, thank god! with faith, and a lot of intuition running. yeah baby!

     shucks is this my excuse for being such an indolent fool… lame! ;p i don’t want to be a sorry ass, so work work work! i don’t want to be just another face in the crowd, ah-ah, not me ;)

10th of April 2005

     I love dancing and i miss doing it. There were a lot of days when I wanted to shake my tailfeathers, only to be put in a disappointing state of not being able to go due to my friends’ variety of heirarchical interests, of which clubbin’ is found way down there.

     I yearn for adrenaline, the kind that pumps a lot of oxygen to my cells and blood to my veins, the kind that makes my sweat glands hyperactive and worked up.

     Is it because of our borrowed physical self that ages in time that stops everybody from moving each bone/muscle in his body, removing the unwanted fats and leaving the real muscles behind? Should energy always be directly proportionate to our bodies? Is fun just an option and not a must?