Friday, April 29, 2005
The attack of the pcs
Computers just HATE me. They despise me. There must be some union somewhere in computer land whose main goal is to make my life MISERABLE.
tried on a size 9 @6:05 PM
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Wednesday, April 27, 2005
The calm before the storm
I never thought I would blow. After years of just losing my temper left and right, I learned to control it. Only to blow up when I least expected it.
It's funny how it hurt. It was offensive as it was an attack against my person. It triggered a rumbling inside me, one similar to that as I might imagine an oncoming tsunami might sound like. It consumed me for days. Well, just a weekend actually. But, consumed I was, nonetheless.
The unconscious makes you do things in order for you to release supressed emotions. Emotions that cannot be held in any longer. I suppose it was the end for me. A little tired of being the receiving end of eyes rolling far back into the head and annoyed glances, I stepped over to the other side of the fence and took on the role of one throwing daggers. It happened quite naturally, and when confronted, words spilled out uncontrollably - a change to my carefully chosen utterances. It felt good. It made me feel powerful. I silently dared anyone else to say anything ugly against me and blood would spill.
Things happen for a reason. The "incident" could have been avoided. But, I wanted it to happen. It was my liberation.
tried on a size 9 @1:53 PM
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Saying it like it is
Another relative has just officially stuck her nose where it doesn't belong. I am half hoping that she'll come across this and read how much anger I have for her. My sister was in the hospital yesterday to visit our grandmother and this INTRUDER came in. She's actually the sister of an in law (yes, I'm angry enough to be specific here. Just in case God grants me my wish and she does get to read this), which doesn't even make her an immediate relative and she has the GALL to judge my family. She's so insignificant that I can't even remember her name. Anyway, I digress. She started small talk with my sister, asking where I was and where my brother was - stuff that obviously weren't any of her business. See, my brother was at his first part-time job (bravo! another teen veering away from a life of luxury to learn the value of money), which explains his not being able to visit my grandmother at that time. So this WITCH asks where my brother was and Cara, my sister, says that he's with my uncle. The INTRUDER spits out, "Better there than here with lola, huh?"
She does not expound because CLEARLY it's not the WITCH's business. She does not feel the need to be defensive and say, "Oh, so sorry, my brother's doing something extremely important, earning his own dough at the ripe young age of fourteen, and that is why he cannot visit his lola. It's not that he feels that he'd rather be anywhere else but here with her, it's just that unlike you and your spoiled family, we actually WORK to earn a living!"
After my sister shares this with me, I sit there for a moment, giving the WITCH the benefit of the doubt by thinking that that phrase might have been said in a positive light. But, clear as day, it wasn't. It was said to send across a message, and it was not a pretty one.
Why I let someone whose name I can't remember consume my thoughts for the next eight hours, I don't know. I stood in front of the mirror and enacted several scenarios of me confronting her should she have uttered those few implicating words to me instead of my sister. Some consisted of me conjuring hyfaluting words and firing them at her Gilmore girls style. Some were as plain and simple as my dragging her ass and hurtling it out the window.
In conclusion, like all things in life, I came up with one lesson that should be learned here: Mind your friggin' business lest you bite off your tongue because too many people keeps talking about you and your nosiness or worse....get thrown out a 15 story hospital building.
tried on a size 9 @1:52 PM
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Anxiety Attack
Two nights ago, I experienced my very first anxiety attack. My family and I just came home from a day at UST Hospital where my paternal grandmother is confined due to tuberculosis of the bone and a lot more other diseases. That same day, I had just spent the night at The New Medical City with my maternal grandmother who is battling stomach cancer with pancreatic extension. Now, staying at a hospital for a couple of nights is one thing, but to stay at two in the span of one week was just too much for my emotional self. Both my grandmothers needed a cheerleader: someone who would rah rah them to recovery. I wasn't the person for that job. During the days that Lola Ludy would fall into a pit of depression, I got dragged along into it. I was too aware of the gravity of the situation to pretend that she isn't in serious trouble. Right that moment, I wished it weren't in my character to be so moody. My lola needed someone who could pretend that she would be fine and that person wasn't me. I stood there many a nights half-heartedly telling her that she would be alright. That once she recuperates, we'd spend many Merry Christmases together and enjoy life like never before. So, to make up for my lack of bounciness, I would often make it a point to sit down next to her, take her hand in mine and stroke it. I expressed my love for her through trips to the bathroom when I'd take on a hugging position and hoist her up gently. Through this constant routine of taking her into my arms and assisting her in the little everyday things that we take for granted, we developed a strong connection that went above anything else. It is somewhat similar to the connection that a mother and child develops through the simple act of breast feeding. Everynight (I had the 'night shift'), I'd stay with Lola, holding her hand and she'd grip mine as if hanging on for dear life and through that, our bonding began. The night of the 25th was my last night to sleep over and watch over her. I had slept at The New Medical City for a total of three (3) days and in that short span of time, I felt like I'd gotten to know her more than in the 14 years that I've been living with her.Which brings me to expound on the manifestations of my anxiety attack. On the 26th, after coming home from visiting Lola Betty at UST Hospital, I heard about the great 8.9 earthquake that rocked southern Asia and the tsunamis that swallowed countries like Malaysia, Indonesia, Vietnam, etc. I sat in front of the television, feeling quite defeated, when I was overcome by paranoia. With all the diseases and disasters happening this holiday season, it would be just our luck if we came down with some rare (or not so rare) sickness caused by staying in too many hospital rooms. I ordered my sibling to immediately throw the clothes they had worn that day into the hamper and half dragged my sister and brother into the shower. When it was my turn to go disinfect myself, my paraonia was justified. There I was, waiting inside the stall for the heater to warm up the water spritzing from the shower head when my sister and I heard a loud pop and saw a flash of light. Images of Katya Santos' boyfriend perishing in electocution flashed through my mind and a terrified (yet delayed) scream escaped my lips. My judgement told me to get out of there pronto and forego the shower, but my paranoia of debilitating diseases won over. I slipped on rubber slippers (upon my sister's orders) and quickly cleansed myself. Fifteen minutes later, I found myself in a state of shock. I lay numbly in bed and was jolted out of my reverie when my sister worriedly asked if I was okay. I mumbled something inaudible, flipped over and pretended to be asleep. I eventually fell into a deep sleep with invading dreams of natural calamaties and death causing events.
tried on a size 9 @1:51 PM
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