I feel so scarred for life.

Yes… Literally scarred.

I don’t feel like sharing what stupidity I’ve just done to myself, but there are now two scars on the right side of my right leg. At least it’s not that seen.

But I feel so scarred since it’s all my fault.

Okay, it’s just a scar on my leg. No biggie. But I’m still disturbed. Really disturbed.

I look like I’ve been bitten by a rat…

You see, I accidentally cut two small pieces of skin off my leg with scissors. Don’t ask. I don’t feel like sharing why that happened yet. The skin nearer to the scissors’ handles was of course cut more compared to the one farther from it.

And there was blood. I actually just felt like I cut something chunky. It didn’t even hurt (until I rinsed it with water). 

Then… I did something even stupider.

I thought that, oh no, there is going to be a scar, and the dark part was going to be the blood.

So I blocked the flow of blood of the bigger wound with a cotton bud and taped it there, while I had no time left to cover the smaller wound. So here I was with two kinds of wounds.

Research tells me that I should have let the wounds heal naturally…

Come to think of it, the bigger wound is deeper. Since I blocked the blood flow… It’s going to become a crater scar.

I caused a crater scar on my leg. It’s barely seen, but still…

I knew that I was just asking for this to happen when I took the risk of using scissors. That was really, really stupid. I just laughed at myself and then I realized just now that bothersome other feeling aside from laughing at myself — Sadness.

I’m sad because I’ve technically damaged my own body, and all these things I’m reading about having to undergo some collagen injection or some kind of unnatural procedure for it to look perfectly normal is depressing me.

I just hope that the skin would still work its magic. It’s okay to have a scar… If having a scar would return the skin to its normal shape or state, by all means make a dark scar!!! 

Okay, it could’ve been worse. It could’ve been a very deep line scar. But no. It’s two scars… Two separate scars…

…So full of regret… That was actually the last freaking stroke I was going to make…

I am so annoyed with my accident…

Specialization in School Organizations (Why Nobody Will Join The Choir-Club)

By: @sanswristpetals

Caution: This is a very strong polemic which can put the writer in trouble if certain authorities find this.

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In half an hour, it’s technically the day before school. (Now that that half an hour passed… It’s technically the day before school.)

I’ve been readying myself for college applications for the past months. I’m not really thinking of senior year.

It’s just so unfortunate for me to be so bothered by a certain person when I’m supposed to at least try to be excited for senior year. Listening to “So Close” is making it even more depressing. I didn’t even seriously slow dance when that song was played during prom.

Negative vibes… This feeling sucks.

Anyway, I need to pass DLSUCET at all costs. I need to study harder.

I’m going to regret very soon how I haven’t studied for the college entrance tests that seriously… 

I don’t want to see you in school. I don’t want to talk to you.

It’s usually the overthinking that makes me loathe someone so much but… I haven’t loathed someone this much for a long time and I just can’t believe you’re not at least reciprocating my anger. What if there comes a time when I need to explain myself and I end up being the one at fault or at a loss as to what to say.

…That’s it. I’m watching Tangled right before I sleep for school.

I don’t know how I’m going to schedule studying for the entrance exams. I don’t know how I’m going to insert that in my time.

I don’t know how much I’m going to ignore that thing. 

I don’t know how I’m going to explain myself.

I’m not as prepared as I thought I’d be. Everyone’s fixing their school supplies already, but I don’t think I’ll be seriously fixing them until after Friday or something.

Whatever.

I haven’t been caught for almost a decade. But I keep on forgetting that keeping that record doesn’t mean the record is going to go on forever. (Don’t read if you know me personally.)

I can make you an essay on why I shouldn’t be doing this. I can get a high grade in that essay. I can come up with a thousand reasons on why I shouldn’t be doing this based on my knowledge and education, even more reasons than what I can come up with on why I am doing this.

No, I haven’t told people. I don’t even know why I’m posting about it here. Maybe it’s because of another emotional fountain I’m feeling.

I was nearly caught… No. Not “nearly caught.” Actually, I was semi-caught. Caught partially? Not caught for it 100% but I was almost caught and at the same time, it was there.

I’m a liar. I lie to cover up the things that I accidentally show. I can actually make a criminal if not for my tendency to do good or reluctance from breaking the rules. 

There is that part of me. People don’t really know me, and I hope that people seriously won’t know me that way… ever.

This is something I will always cover up. Yes, I have been quite caught before. Guess what. I totally covered it up. I was a child. It was okay for me to be strange. With this mind of mine, I fabricated a complete story. It worked. It worked so much that I hope they won’t remember this ever again.

I must be lucky. I could have been caught in much worse situations. I could have been really caught. But this is still t the same time a stroke of misfortune if I got caught.

When I get out, I’m going to be normal as usual. I have all my lies backed-up already. I think I’m going to sound like ll my excuses are ready.

This is the one big dark spot keeping me from being flawless in a sense that the general public would prefer. I would be judged, my image would change completely.

Only something like a stupid blog post like this would give it away.

It was something that I held on to for a long time until it hurt me so much that I had to throw it away. Little did I know that, in the way I tossed it away from me, it would just boomerang back.

Or it probably just isn’t my fault.

It came back. Hi, I’m back.

Shit.

It’s not good that I’m blogging again. This is really not good.

Just because we spent time together… Just because I started thinking about you again a little…

Damn my mind. It’s so out of control. You know, I’ve gone back to the stage of losing appetite. I was eating breakfast when it was the morning of that day that we hung out. I ate two and it felt weird eating, like my stomach wouldn’t accept it. That is what happens when I lose my appetite just because of some emotions. Some stupid emotions.

I also forgot to eat lunch today… I ate it at 3pm. And I can’t believe our dinner, two hours later, was halo-halo (5pm is too early, it was weird for my family).

I suffered heartache again. I got affected. I just saw something, found out something, then poof, it hurt. I was affected. A little bit teary-eyed.

Mood swings.

It’s back. I’m back. It’s bad.

A very small part of me wanted this back. But it’s not like I can control what’s happening. That’s the scary part.

I can’t control how I feel. Okay, maybe I can. But not completely. I can’t even control my reactions. Is it my fault if I can get teary-eyed over trivial things?

You don’t deserve this… I don’t deserve this… But this experience is probably just for training me.

I’m just going to get hurt over and over again. I’m going to gain hope. I ‘m going to fantasize involuntarily even if I’d like to avoid that the most.

Expectation is the root of all heartache. - William Shakespeare

Why? Why?

I’m not really asking. I don’t know why it’s “why” that’s coming out. Why what? Why did this happen? Why did it have to come back? Why did it start in the first place?

This better not distract me from my college entrance exam review.

I’m thinking about you again. I was so successful last month and two months ago. I completely forgot about you once. For once, I didn’t think of you all the time. If it happens again that you make me waste so much of my time… This is going to be so terrible.

I can’t even tell you to pause for a while so I can concentrate on myself and the things more important to me.

I have one year of high school left, and it’s the first time I made the statement like that. It’s just going to be fate that college will come and the people we met in high school will either keep in touch, simply stay, or vanish gradually.

I haven’t cared this much for a long time… I can’t tell if I want it or not, but I can tell that it’s not good for me. This boomerang is going to be indestructible for some time. Until I become strong enough? Until I’m distracted enough?

I disobeyed my rule of one-word titles since I pretty much just ranted my heart out.

What the hell, man. What the hell.

How did my summer just slip past like that? How the hell.

The realization of summer ending is like the ending of a fairytale (in more realistic terms… burning a fairytale book in the middle of the city). I just can’t believe it.

I feel so pressured all of a sudden.

I feel as if I could repeat a routine forever. Wake up at 7:30am, be late for review classes. And I mean fun review classes with amusing people (it’s not paradise or anything and it’s not like these people are perfect people, but still). Then either go home or go out. Then nap or do homework or do random things on the computer. That’s Monday to Thursday. I waste my Friday then just do the same freaking thing Saturday to Sunday.

I’m freaking scared because I was supposed to study for the college entrance exams one of these days… I never did. I never self-studied. I really need to self-study. I’m so scared ‘cause I’m losing control of time. I’m scared ‘cause I don’t egt to do what I want anymore.

I forgot that my six weeks of review will end this fast… I can’t believe we’ve finished four weeks… This is what I get for not looking at the calendar carefully!!!

I think it’s also because I expect myself to finish things before summer ends… Even things I hoped to do for fun.  Because I had all this time. Let me try making a list.

• buy certain necessities that I’ve listed
• move all books and notebooks from high school to the shelf without mother knowing ‘cause it’s easier for me to access like that.
• study for the college entrance exams
• finish certain things for some…  ugh
• Back-up my files
• Watch Gokinjo Monogatari then Paradise Kiss (50 + 12 episodes)

What the freaking hell.

I really have to admit this… Something else also ate my summer. It starts to get even more annoying that… ugh. Cannot rant here. My summer has been stolen and it’s not even the group it’s the project I mean, ugh, why. And I didn’t even need to… Ugh, I sound so ridiculous being so vague.

I haven’t been so scared of school before. I’ve never been this scared. I am so scared for senior year now.

I have a theory, and it’s probably just going to apply to myself. I enjoyed first year a lot. It’s like I never wanted it to end. I loved it.

And I didn’t like second year. 

But it was since first year that I looked forward to Junior Year. Everyone kept on saying it was the hardest year. I was excited. I was determined to overcome the stress and I was ready. And then I conquered it and had great memories.

Senior Year. If I follow how these years are even and odd numbers, First Year and Third Year are odd. I enjoyed both.

So my theory is that I’m probably not going to enjoy Senior Year.

I felt indifferent toward Sophomore Year before it began. I didn’t know what to expect. It seemed blank. And I don’t know how to feel about Senior Year. I mean, come on. What happens in Senior Year aside from college entrance tests? Nothing else? Wow. Ugh.

A string of just one word is running through my brain. It’s:

college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college-college———

(I’d talk about college courses… but not now).

I have to pass UPCAT. Fine, I have a college with the course I think I want in case I don’t pass UPCAT… But I have to get into UP Manila still. I might be shocked too much but… Shiz.

I feel like life is ending. I feel like the world is ending. I feel like my life will end on June 8.

Our review ends in June 2. I’m so happy I don’t get bored or anything during review. I actually look forward to it.

But I feel so screwed.

Uh, so, you totally ruined my moment. You totally ruined my positive vibes from coming from a so-called “date” (not really). So there, someone wanted me to blog about this…

Here you go, these are my emotions!

I haven’t even made a full kwento to anyone about my day…

My very amusing day…

So all of you can just drown in my negative vibes.

(I’m not as annoyed as I sound but I hope to get better ‘cause I should be pretty happy considering this amusing day.)

I never thought that my heart actually followed seasons.

Spring, summer, fall, winter.

Spring. Flowers. Blossoms. Bright colors. Blooming. Idyllic bliss. The beginning of this story was playfully made out. There’s no drama yet. People in spring would just gaze at the flowers around them and admire. A story like this would just start out like this. Nothing too serious happens at first. After all, what negative thing can you see when it’s the season of spring? Those moments were simply innocent. But spring would be the beginning of it all; it’s that significant. It wouldn’t seem as if the other seasons would come after. The world wasn’t made for eternal peace and oblivion. But that climactic event that brought me truth that would soon be timeworn should be included in that spring. That event changed everything like how the spring’s events would affect the events of the later seasons. 

Summer brings in the heat (and quite literally, summertime was my spring since that’s when I met him) in the situation. Truly, it shows progress. The sun makes more of an appearance compared to spring. It gets hotter and it also gets worse. There’s this intense feeling with summer. There started to be problems, but it was also the time when we got closer — close enough for problems to inflict me with more effect. It’s sad to think that it seems as if the mood gets worse from positive to negative as the seasons pass. This is where the drama happens when I still care. I still hold the memories of spring and believe in them. I still don’t give up. I don’t see why I should give up.

Fall really means the fall. The mood becomes lighter but sadder. I see things the way I should. All the leaves are falling and I have many moments when my heart drops. At this point, I’ve suffered enough. Too much happens and I start to accept out of having no other choice. The leaves and flowers that grew out of the trees and bushes during spring — I can’t but them back to their branches… where they once belonged. I accept the reality I can’t change. I accept that what was true in the spring may be false in this season.

Winter’s coldness explains the season perfectly. This is when I feel that I’ve given up. I forget. I stop feeling positive about it. At times I didn’t even care.

It really seems as if it would never be spring again when I experienced winter.

There’s a clear reason why the title is “Spring.”

When I think and when I feel, I start to think that I feel something. That doesn’t mean what I think is what I actually feel, but thinking about it gives me an idea. The more it will make me think it’s true if I admit it.

I feel Spring again, but the Summer, Fall, and Winter will never be the same. I will not let it reach that intensity. Of course, it is different.

My heart’s season lasted for more than a year. My spring started in April. It was really throughout a year of four of my heart’s seasons.

My hopes are starting to come back again, but they’re light hopes. Light hopes that I don’t want to evolve. Light hopes that I hope I will feel for someone better someday. 

I might start to lose my sense of logic and independence if I push through with this. It’s so obvious in the way that I’m once again inspired to type. I even look away or close my eyes and I don’t look at what I’m typing. This is my heart speaking through using my veins as word canals to reach my fingertips and punch the right keys to send my thoughts across.

That hope that you would change is being rekindled after I extinguished its flame.

And I’m starting to like it even if I shouldn’t, even if it will hurt, even if it’s irresponsible. But I’m not rushing in as blindly since I still have a hold of my mind.

You’re supposed to be riding on a one-way train with straight tracks.

You’re supposed to be gone by now, but I have a feeling Fate curved your tracks for that train to come back.

If I can’t remain at a state where I’ve completely forgotten about you, should I remain at a state where I like you just a little? This line graph is going up and down. When I finally thought I was “over” you (not officially… but I didn’t want to jinx it), I start getting affected again.

Why? There’s nothing left for us.

I’d rather let the issue rest than be crazy about it for a whole other year.

Look at all the forsaken posts I ended up typing just because of this roller-coaster. Look at me. I’m making another post. 

This is not good.

I believe that I see things the way I see them because of what I think I think. But I just think that.

So I wouldn’t label this as “coming back” the same way I didn’t label the other moment as “getting over” somebody.

Damn fate. Damn this story.