I still read cereal boxes.

I was taking random neuro-psychological exams and among all the results I got, the Freudian Inventory Result fascinated me the most, since Freud piqued me with a peculiar interest since I was a college freshman. He always had this knack of identifying people and pinning their psychological problem with a sexual cause. Many people, then and now, find his theories quite ridiculous and ungrounded with factual basis. Still, he’s as interesting as the sun.

I guess my mom did a good job in parenting because of this. Good thing I wasn’t orally deprived at infancy or I’d be smoking cigarette butts by now. I know when I can do things for my own and when is the time that I already need help. My self-worth comprises of being able to do things for myself with as little external help as possible. However, I’m not also haughty and proud when I know that some thing’s are just impossible to do alone. As they say, it takes to tango, and a whole lot of crowd to liven up the dancefloor.

What a “tight-ass”! Gee, I need to loosen up. It’s really not in my genes to oppose authority, that’s why the eternal fad of activism in my university never had an appeal to me. I feel content to have things as they are and change is not actually in my vocabulary unless something already starts to suck big time. Think out of the box, they said; it’ll be fun, they said. Well, I can’t. I feel happy with how the world goes round and unless it doesn’t affect my interests, I’ll let it be. I’m friggin’ passive.

This made me go “Whoa…” as soon as I read the part about “desires and fidelity”. This has the shortest interpretation but with the heaviest description. The only reason I have issues with self-control about my sexual impulses is because I simply find my hubby irresistible. Damn. Okay, next!

I’m a realist and an idealist rolled into a tight sushi. Dip me in wasabi and… why do I always manage to associate myself with food!? I’m more of a realist only because I lack creativity and originality. I’m good at duplicating, not originating. I’m the see-to-believe, look-before-you-leap type. 

A tight-assed, passive, safety-seeking, stay-in-the-box me. This is what I would like to improve. I like to learn innovation, I want to be more open to changes, I like to look at life in a brighter light, I want to be a freestyle polygon, not just a stiff parallelogram trying hard to be different from a rectangle when in fact there’s not much difference. I want to embrace life and accept the fact that everything changes. I’ll perish someday, everybody I knew also will, but I’d hate to watch my life pass without surprising myself with something I did that would make a difference. Stepping out of the comfort zone is such a scare, but remaining in it is cowardice.

My memory bank may be a hopeless case but there are just some things that I will always remember. I’ve probably told you this story several times already but everytime I retell it I’d always find new ways to tell it in a brand new light.

It happened on November 27th, about four years ago. You were about to introduce me to your folks for the first time. How could I even forget that? You made your impression by picking me up at a Tropical Hut chain while I was having breakfast. I expected that you’d “dress to impress”. Instead, you showed up in your simplest shirt, basketball shorts, and ‘flops. I looked at you quizzically before asking, “Why’re you dressed like that?”, eyeing your modest get-up from shirt to ‘flops. You answered, “We’re just going to my house. No need to dress up.” You have no idea that you’ve already taught me two things just by that.

You came up to me in your simplest form. Just now, I realized that if you showed up wearing more “impressive” clothes, I would’ve been intimidated, not impressed. And that’s not even my point. What I’m trying to say is that, just by looking like that, you showed me what kind of person you really are. What I saw was a person who doesn’t have to make false pretension about himself because he’s already comfortable in his own skin, and you still are up to this day. You showed me everything, you told me everything, you held nothing back. It was the mildest but straightest way of you saying, “Either you take it or leave it. I am what I am.” Of course we had to make a few modifications regarding portions of your attitude (which you gladly obliged) and that helped to get us where we are today, three years and counting.

You never met my initial expectation alright, but in the long run it saved me from having too much of that expectations of what you should be just because of a remarkable “first impression”. And I appreciate and admire that simplicity more than ever now that I was able to contemplate over it. 

With that, you unconsciously taught me to be the “me” that I really am, like what you are. 

You’re the realest person I’ve ever met, and I loved you more because of it. 

Bedtime. Lights out. Mini-night light on. Air conditioner humming low. Cozily tucked under the comforters. Still, I kept on squirming and tossing and turning on the floor (yeah, I was sleeping on the floor with only a mat under me). I settled on my comfortable side and prayed for sleep to come.

Suddenly, I can smell the air in front of me. It smelled — cockroach-y! I opened my eyes and lo and behold! A cockroach was stealthily walking just inches away from my face! It’s funny how cockroaches can send you running straight to the nearest refuge even when intoxicated by drowsiness.

My brain was already shooting all varieties of cuss words to express my disgust. I tapped my younger sister beside me because the friggin’ insect was slowly making it’s descent on her legs. She stood up straight to and asked what the hell was my problem. I uttered, “A roach, dude.” She asked where. I used my phone’s light to search for it and found it hiding in a small corner. And I was like, “Kill it. Kill it!” 

My sister took an empty CD case and without thinking twice, she ruthlessly slammed it onto the vehemently repugnant vermin. Twice.

And this is what’s left of the vermin…

But as they say, “When there’s smoke, there’s fire”, and this single cockroach is just the “smoke”. Now, if someone would just kill the “fire”.

I was at 9gag mindlessly scrolling down for funny posts when I found this…

…which struck me as both hilarious and partly true. Because right now, it’s what I’m starting to feel — somehow. So, ergo.

 Okay, so here’s the first stage. DENIAL. Just because I have the diploma, doesn’t mean I’ll start acting like a full-grown adult. Just because I’m out of my -teen years, doesn’t mean I have to act mature at last. I refuse to, but I have to. I have this big thing upon my shoulders set upon by the people who think highly of me, who expects me to accomplish things that will make my life (and theirs as well) a better place to live in. I don’t really know what that means.

Admittedly, the description hit me right in the face once again. I spent the last 4 years learning nothing and am completely unprepared for the real world. I’m still drenched with the fantasy of being “young, wild, and free”. Very  mature. So you could easily assume that I’m not very hot into graduation. In fact, I was such a sourpuss during the ceremony. My 3-inch right heel broke just as I went down the stag, and I have to walk with a limp while getting out of the auditorium as fast as I can without anybody noticing my damned predicament. And the grief starts from there. 

I know how to write a damn cover letter, alright. I just don’t want to occupy the hotseat in front of the human resource interview panel while applying for the same job as theirs. God, I hate interviews. Their questions have to be answered at the drop of a hat. My brain is only capable of composing intelligent responses given enough time and I know the HR personnel has more productive things to do than “give me enough time”.

I’m not a sloth. Truth be told, I’m literally DYING to get a job, dying to buy things for my own from my own paycheck, dying to help my mom pay the bills, dying to treat my friends for the first time in my life, dying to change my Facebook status from “Studied at…” to “Works at…”, and all that crap. Job interviews get in the way. I can never be ready for it. I feel like Don Quixote battling with the windmills, fighting the seemingly innocent but humongous obstacle in the way. Just the “Tell me something about yourself” part freaks me out. I want a job, but I want it right away. Like they could just put me in a vacancy and I’ll prove that I’m worthy from there. No more sweet bullshit with the interviewer. Yeah, like that could happen. Even relationships start from courtships. You won’t get the girl unless you’ve proven that you’re worthy.

 This is the stage I don’t feel like doing. My mom didn’t send me to school so that I could grab the hem of her dress after graduation to beg for further dependency benefits. It’s way beyond pathetic. I’ve seen my cousins do it and boy, they do look pathetic. This technique won’t be effective for me either. My mom doesn’t have the money as my cousin’s parents did. I can’t and don’t ask for more luxury other than delicious food thrice a day and a cozy bed.

I’ve been asked by several people and even some of my relatives if I have already made plans to jobhunt. My generic response is, “Yeah, still looking” but man, I am more on my procrastinating side for the meantime. I’m still waiting for June from ‘round the corner before I get my ass back on the applicant pool. 

Thank God I haven’t reached this stage yet. Correction: I don’t plan to. Many times have I been tempted to just enter the world of call center agents and go hipster and everything but, what about the years I’ve spent in college for my degree if all I’m ever gonna do is answer irate phone calls and tell them that everything’s gonna be fine while I try my best to avoid shouting cuss words at them? Ending up in a shitty job and having my batchmates know that is a real esteem-breaker.

I just need a little more time to pull myself together.  For now, I’ll just lounge around and eat chips.

Oh, where to start?

I woke up early. I mean 3am early. The graduation ceremony will be held at 8am, and I still have to go prep up.

To tell you honestly, I have been more excited during my past three graduations than this final one. For one, the graduation season was so two months ago. Who else graduates during May but us? Second, I don’t have bragging rights to leave the university with. No legacy, no honors, no active organizations, not even a solid peer group but my sole best friend since high school, who unfortunately wasn’t able to graduate with us because of unaccomplished deficiencies. I can’t blame anyone but no one though, because I chose to be as invisible as possible in college as if it was just a passing thing. I never realized that it really was a passing thing.

Four years passed me by and though I admit it gave me quite a hard time, I still can’t believe it’s over. My studying days are over. I didn’t even toss my graduation cap as did the others. I don’t have the heart to say goodbye to school permanently as a student. A quarter of my lifetime has been spent in schooling and I should’ve been over it by now, but I’m not. I’m sure gonna miss going to school.

As the lone summa cum laude of our batch gave his speech that moved all parents in tears, I can’t help but feel a miniscule twinge of regret. Why have I taken college for granted? As a freshman, I tried to be a Dean’s Lister. I repeat, “tried”. College Algebra, my kryptonite, failed me with a humiliating 3.0 final grade. Nothing could be done about it. I’m dumb at numbers as I was good with words. I never dreamt to be that guy giving his valedictory speech. It would be like wishing snow in Hawaii. I just wished that I could’ve made my mom more proud of me.

Now what?

***

These are just some of the few photos I had. Few, because I think I was the only one who obediently obliged with the “No gadgets allowed” policy while my classmates have hidden theirs between their private parts. I wasn’t able to have photos with friends after the ceremony either. My heel broke just as I went down the stage and I have to get away fast to spare me the humiliating crippled walk.

I had to beg my seatmate to take me this solo photo with her camera for this one. 

My mom insisted on this one just as we rode the car home.

While I insisted on this one. This, and 7 other shots, cost us P480. 

And a glamour shot for me. Notice how I look like a Twilight cast. Abominations to the make-up artist who did me injustice.

And of course, what occasion would be perfect without eating out? I chose Pizza Hut Stuffed Crust, a glorious piece of heaven I’m often deprived of. We opted to have it in a box because eight cheesy slices are definitely too much for three ladies.

And whoever said that pouting smiles are damn annoying? Just look at my mom. Ain’t that precious? 

April 24, 2012

I am now growing fond of cheap replay movies at the mall. For a mere P25 (and some even offer as low as P20 for Thai horrors), you can now watch playback movies in the comforts of a real cinema. Time is so hard to pass by when you’ve got nothing else to do, and in what way could you spend a quarter of a dollar with more satisfaction than a Cornetto cone can offer you?

Today I watched the movie Immortals directed by Tarsem Singh. I’ve been seeing its trailers at LRT 2 stations before and since I am a fan of Greek myths, I definitely sucked for it. I’ve watched 300, Percy Jackson and The Lighting Thief, Clash of the Titans, its second (and I assume, last) Wrath of the Titans, and I loved them all. However, I am not a movie goer. The last time I remember going into a full-priced movie was when the first installment of Twilight was released in 2009. I’d rather spend the money on food binges than for an hour-long movie that I’d quickly forget once I step out of the cinemas. So it came with such a blessing that the Immortals was among the list of cheapskate movies on this fateful day.

I have with me my younger sister and a female neighbor friend. I have dragged these two along because I can’t watch a movie alone under any circumstances, I see that as a pity. However, I seemed to regret bringing the latter once the movie started rolling. Apparently, she had already watched the movie but she didn’t know its title when she watched it so when the movie kicked in, she was helplessly surprised and slightly disappointed. That disappointment kind of rubbed in on me because she doesn’t seem to get the idea of cinema etiquette. She kept on whispering and telling about what was to happen next, the whole thrill of anticipation lost in her apple dapple mouth. Since she is a good friend, I can’t bring myself to shut her up (because other people are starting to get annoyed with her too). All I could ever do was to pretend I’m listening, giving slight grunts of acknowledgment with her unnecessary offers of information.

As how I understood it, the story’s champion was Theseus, trained since boyhood by Zeus disguised as an old man. It’s ironic how Theseus refused to believe in gods when in fact the person who trained him in swordsmanship was a god himself. King Hyperion was the antagonist, in search of the great Epilus bow. He too lost faith in gods when he lost his wife and daughter. He swore revenge by unleashing the Titans from Mount Tartarus and to do that, he needs the Epilus bow.

I won’t relay the plot anymore because I think Wikipedia had already done the job for me. I’d only want to comment about the movie. I am not a movie savvy and I speak with a commoner’s view of which movie is good and so-so. Since I have already watched previous Greek-based films, I can’t help but compare them with the Immortals. Its trailer looking thrilling but somehow it left me short when I finally had the chance to watch it. The graphics were undeniably breath-taking, everything looked so true. Well, except for those few boulders. They looked fake even for my inexperienced movie tastes. They remind me of the paper mache props we used to make in school.

I don’t think the casting was too great either. The only actor I recognized was Zeus himself, as I once saw him in the movie Wanted. I wasn’t able to catch which god was which. Either I was just plain deaf, or the script only said Zeus and Athena. I only recognized Poseidon because one fellow was clad in gold and holding a trident! Still, I think the Oracle’s ass was an object of envy. It caught me by surprise when the camera angle was focused on her ass while she shed her clothes for Theseus. I was always accustomed to a camera angle shot on the floor where the garments would expectedly fall, and yet they preferred to show more ass and less discretions. That surprise put me in a laughing fit with my two chums. The ass wasn’t laughable. It was lovely, in fact. The scene and how it was done was just too comical to be taken in as erotic.

Since the setting was warlike, blood and guts flew in every inch of space imaginable. It was like watching Saw, Hostel, and Texas Chainsaw rolled into one, but with class. The only thing that I disliked the most was the idea that gods die. They may be haughty and arrogant, but I still want them on the winning side. In Rick Riordan’s books (maker of Percy Jackson) gods could be wounded but when they do, golden ichor flows from the wound, not human blood. They’re proud and mighty gods after all; might as well make some distinction from mortals, eh? In the Wrath of the Titans gods die, but with some sort of fashion. They crumble to dust. That’s better than seeing them disembodied or puking their guts out and staining their pristine gold tunics.

I still feel that my P25 had gone a long way. The movie still weighs more than my money’s worth. 

Zeus chained up in Hell, betrayed by Hades and Ares, slowly draining of powers by Kronos…

Zeus: Hades… I am so sorry.

Hades: For what?

Zeus: For having banished you. Can you forgive me for that?

Hades: Why do you ask?

Zeus: Because I forgive you for this…

And I was like…

Proud and arrogant gods finally treating each other like brothers!

I recently joined Pottermore and I admit I got kinda hooked. At first I was just like “Meh…” when I still don’t get the objectives but with a little help (okay, maybe a BIG one), things started to get interesting and stuff. I admire the maker of that “help” because apparently, without a really keen eye and tons of exploration, you won’t be able to do what you have to do on the chapters on your own.

I can say that Pottermore was a very thought-about gaming site for Potter fans because for certain reasons.

*It is child-friendly. From the very beginning of your Pottermore experience, you will have this feeling that you have to be as wholesome as how they were at HP 1 to 7. You can never create your own user name. Pottermore does it for you. Still doesn’t make any sense? It prevents people to create usernames that might be offensive (or ridiculous) to some. I see Pottermore got that covered. It will only give you a few list of available usernames that has to do with HP books and that’s when you get the liberty to choose which of those are easiest for you to remember. I’ll give mine later.

*It is wholesome. Yeah, it doesn’t make any difference from the first one but still, to make my point, I think no parent will be anxious to know that their kid is into Pottermore, unless their family is a devout religious one that doesn’t appreciate magic even in fiction. For one, bad mouths should get a grip if they would like to post a comment in their “Common Room”. I tried to post something like this once: “I’m so glad I was sorted into Slytherin. We’ll always take the LEAD.” or something like that. Sounds healthy right? But the moderator didn’t allow that kind of comment, so I just replaced the second sentence with something like “Let’s show them the REAL path to GREATNESS” which was my House’s motto.

*You can only personalize it to some extent. As per the default lists of usernames that you can only choose from, it doesn’t allow you to have your personal thumbnail photo too. Instead, your chosen pet will serve as your thumbnail photo and the background of your pet will show what house are you in (Red for Gryffindor, Green for Slytherin, Blue for Ravenclaw, and Yellow for Hufflepuff). I think the reason for this one is for the sake of uniformity. If they allow users to have their own thumbnail photos, it would be just like another typical social networking site.

*For other reasons that preserve its gaming purposes and not basically to socialize. Pottermore allows you to add fellow Pottermore players as your Friends, but Friendship only circles within Challenging (in Duels) and Sending Gifts. No messaging purposes are given so you can’t communicate to other Friends in private. The Common Room is the only place to be. You won’t even know if someone is a boy or a girl because no gender is indicated! Again, my theory for this one is simple — it prevents users to develop a certain kind of interest to another fellow user other than gaming. Another social networking cork plug. If you don’t know the gender of the other user that you might have been admiring because of excellence, you can’t take that interest to the next level. Result: you only have the game to pour your attention in, not to search for hot chics among the users. Smartass Pottermore.

As I have said earlier, yeah, I was Sorted into Slytherin. Well, at first I was hoping for Gryffindor since I’m a big Gryff fan and because Slyths are portrayed in the books as “evil, cunning, and ambitious”. But I can’t argue with the result of my Sorting. Better Slytherin than Hufflepuff, no offense. No regrets really, as our House continues to take the lead in House Points among the Big Four.

As you can see, my earned House Points barely touched the surface of our whopping 27k+ House Points, but I’m proud of Slytherin’s major HP contributors. I guess Harry Potter wasn’t born yet to redeem Gryffindors. It’s funny how Pottermore self-fulfills what the House standings were in the books, until Potter came.

I have finished exploring the first book of HP in Pottermore with ease because of the “help”. It’s been a year since Pottermore was launched and yet the Chamber of Secrets still isn’t out yet. I kind of sucked at brewing Potions, especially that very basic Cure for Boils potion that no matter how accurate you try to do it, your brew will just end up in fart. YouTube has become a proof that I’m not the only one having a hard time brewing that Cure thing. In a parallel universe, however, I was able to brew other potions successfully using the same care and attention I apply to that unsolvable Cure for Boils potion. 

There goes my wand, 12 1/2 inches Unyielding Dragon core Ash wood. Admittedly, during the wand sorting at Ollivander’s, I was secretly hoping for one that contains unicorn hair or even phoenix feathers but I knew it was way too overboard for a wishful thinking! So yeah, if you have read this, and you’re in Pottermore too, add me…

SpellSword1339

By the way, one more thing. Potter fans might hate me but hey, I’m a Panda. I have no prejudices. So yeah, I discovered that there’s this Twimore made by Stephenie Meyer too. I checked it out but it’s not launched yet. All you can do is to generate your own Twimore username answering three staple and simple questions. Instructions said that you should get back the next day to activate your registration and so I did, but it’s still the same. I therefore conclude that it is a bogus by far. I’d still try to check it out. 

If blogging is the same thing as child rearing, my blog would’ve gone to the social services already because of neglect. The only thing that keeps on changing in my Tumblr is my constant loss of followers every time I log in. Who would want to follow a stagnant blog anyway? So I don’t blame you, unfollowers. Follow your heart.

Lots of things have already happened to me since I last posted. Every time something significant happens, I have this uncontainable urge to blog it down to the very last detail. Problem is, once I try to put it off for later, the urge slowly ebbs away until I can no longer construct a single interesting sentence about the experience. Then it drifts away from my faulty memory like it never happened, or I’ll never have that urge again to write about it. So lemme catch up, dear blog, and we’ll see if my memory serves me well just to make it up to you.

I’m about to graduate this May, yay! I’ve been so giddy about this upcoming major life event since I started processing my graduation papers and I’m telling you, the anticipation is surreal. I suppose I have mixed emotions too. I’ve been hearing college grads saying that I’m gonna miss school a lot whether I believe it or not. They said I’ll definitely miss the classroom routine, the carefree life of being a student, the friendships I’ve made, everything. You know? I really think I would. Once I’m officially announced as a college graduate, I’m on my own. I can’t be considered as a fledgling anymore. People expect us graduates to be able to face the real world fully-armed and ready to make a name of our own. We can only rely on our parents for so long. But they can’t stay with us forever, and you’ll have to make your own means to make ends meet. And why am I being so melodramatic? Let’s look on the upside.

Best thing about having your bachelor’s degree is that it gives you the edge to get hired for a good job. I honestly don’t believe that there is a job shortage in the country. Why, employers are already calling me here and there scheduling me for an interview! Who said that you’d be jobless in the Philippines? The problem is either fresh grads desire to take the shortcut up the corporate ladder, or they are placed in a job that doesn’t match the degrees they were holding. So many fresh grads have resorted to call center jobs and that’s what we call a job mismatch. I admit I am also tempted to work there salary-wise, but I kept on reprimanding myself that I didn’t spend four years in college just to answer phone calls during the unholy hours only for the easy money. I kept on thinking about the pondering thought I’ve read somewhere: “Would a five year old you be proud of the you that you are today?” Besides, I’ve been hearing a lot about call centers already and those things lessen its temptation over the seduction of money.

By the way, summer is already here! The most notable symptom of it has already manifested on my sun-kissed skin after two consecutive beach outings this April. First was at my boyfriend’s family. We went at La Sueña Brisa at Lemery, Batangas last April 5. The resort wasn’t so big but it has all the amenities needed to enjoy. The pools slope from four feet down to seven. At the farthest end was the black sand beach. The food was overflowing. I sang at the videoke to my heart’s content. But the best thing about that outing was that I get to spend three days and two nights with him and his family, and that was a first. He was as blissful as I was with that. Gosh, I’m getting mushy now. Unfortunately, I accidentally deleted ALL our photos at that resort. So dammit, I can’t give you a single shot.

When I got home after that outing, my mom immediately told me to pack again for another overnight outing at Tanza, Cavite. The outing was sponsored by the barangay captain where my mom works. We set off at night and it was quite an uncomfortable ride. We were jampacked in a white Futon, so jampacked I could barely move my butt for a more comfortable position. The destination wasn’t much uplifting either. I’d rather not name the resort anymore for fear of libel charges. You know why Cavite has this bad rep about beaches. If you still don’t, I’m telling you right now – you might be unfortunate enough to encounter jellyfish while wading in their so-so beaches. God knows how uncomfortable a jellyfish sting is, and it could be quite fatal too depending on your exposure. How can something so cute be so damn deadly?

We took a sneaky dip at the resort’s exquisite pool by midnight (the brgy. captain only paid for the beach and not the pool). Damn, I felt like I plunged in the Antarctic. The lifeguards didn’t bother to tell us off anymore because it was already late and our “sneak” could be excusable. We weren’t so lucky the next day. Tourists who legally paid for the pool are already up and about on the pool and we beach bodies aren’t allowed in anymore. I still have this great fear of dipping in these Caviteñian waters because of the jellyfish scares I’ve been hearing since last night. I surmised the beach with all due scrutiny. After seeing so many people enjoying in it, I decided that it might be safe.

I also took a boat ride around the shoreline. The boat was as slender as FHM’s sexiest and I felt like toppling over with every wave. No lifevests were given, I can’t swim beyond five feet, so I held on for dear life as the boat’s engine came to life. The first few minutes was spent in terror as I try to get used to the waves and the wobbles but after that adjustment period, I felt like I have ridden it since forever. While sailing, I can’t help but think of the novel Life of Pi that I’ve been reading that time. I wonder what I’d do if I became isolated in the middle of the sea alone? I don’t think I could survive a week. All these resulted in darkened shoulders and peeling nose skin. Fortunately for this one, I took great care not to accidentally delete our photos this time. So ergo:

At the breakwaters..

Me with my sis.

(L-R) My sis, my mom, and me!

So there, I think I’ve already made my point in catching up. There’s still so much more to tell but I think I’d just save it for some other time. More updates on… I dunno when, but I hope it doesn’t take long again!

Honestly, I’ve been planning to leave this blogging site for as long as I could remember. I knew people who have already cancelled their accounts. They had several reasons why they did so, but summing it all up, they all meant that the site has now bored them. My initial reaction is quite identical to that meme in a state of disbelief and shock. Obviously, I was a great fan of Tumblr. Was.

My first year in Tumblr was fine and dandy. I learned a lot from hauling followers you don’t even know, learning HTML and CSS all by yourself, memorizing memes by heart, stuff like that. This might sound ridiculous but when I stepped out of my “teens era”, it seemed like I also had a change of heart. Then I came to understand why my other friends have already cancelled or abandoned their Tumblr accounts.

I’m not saying that everyone in here are “kids” and I’m the “adult” one. There are many adults who use these site and as for me, I’ll always be a kid at heart. The thing is, maybe I just wanted to make a real blog. Mine for the past years have been just a bogus, pure reblogs of stuff other people had made and I have come to like. It’s not supposed to be what a blog should really be.

That’s when I drifted out of the sphere. Gone were the days were I used to care whether I lost followers. Sure, I’d be honored to earn some new followers because it means they took interest in me. But gaining them because you coerced them to or because it must be a mutual decision (meaning you have to follow them back too, like paying back a favor), count me out.

Also, gone were the days were I used to abuse the scroll button till the brink of dawn just so I could browse each and every post and make sure I didn’t miss any from the time I last logged in. Sure, I learned a lot about other people’s posts. But seriously, it was clinically proven that you forget 80% of what went in your brain. End result: I’ve already forgotten the entirety of what I’ve seen from the day I created this account. The only way to recall them is to see them again.

Oh no, this is not a rant. In fact, I owe this blog site. This is my first blog site, and this is where I earned good comments about how I write and that I should pursue writing because I’m quite good at it. The only reason why I wanted to “move to another, if not greener, pasture” is that I can’t stand the mediocrity of some of the users. They cyberbully, they post nonsensical stuff, they ruin the essence of true blogging. This is where the typical “It’s not you, it’s me” break-up cliche comes in, only you have to replace the word “me” with “them”.

Many words have been said but the truth of the matter is, I CAN’T LEAVE TUMBLR, much as I’d like, hard as I might. First, because it’s hard to start from scratch! You don’t leave in the middle of something great just because someone is spoiling your fun. So what if you don’t get notes? So what if nobody cares what you think? Public approval could be an ego-booster, but not getting any doesn’t mean that you’re worth nothing. Your blog is YOUR blog. Make it your personal diary because you’re too lazy to write with a pen or you’re penmanship sucks like mine. Posting online doesn’t always mean thought broadcasting. My fingers simply work well with buttons than with pens. Second, I’m not even sure if starting anew with another blogsite would make a diff. They’re all blogsites anyway. Only, Tumblr can make you famous in its own bubble. It’s interactive, and stuff.

Deactivate my Tumblr account? Scratch that. 

Create your own fun. Make the world yours. Own it, like others do, and live it like a boss. :)