The Happy List

I've been feeling down the past couple of days, so I decided that a sprinkle of optimism on Tuesdays was long overdue! I decided to participate in Wild-Spirit's The Happy List blog link up!

1) Checking off everything on my to-do list. 

2) Imagine Dragon's On Top of The World.

3) Office Supply Shopping. 

4) Doing something you never thought you could do. (Getting to p. 200 of Daluyong)

5) Letting go of all the things that bugged you before. 

6) Listening to Julie Andrew's rendition of "Favorite Things".

7) Finally getting my hands on the House of Hades

8) THOR II 

9) Rainy Sunday Mornings 

10) The Complicated Family. 

“People are just as happy as they make up their minds to be.”  - Abrahan Lincoln

As of the moment:

My own version of the Sunday Currently blog post. I didn't have the patience or energy to wait for Sunday to arrive, so I decided to rehash the Sunday Currently and add some of my own! However, don't forget to check out the creator of Sunday Currently-- or Sidda. 

As of the moment I am:

• reading: The Cuckoo's Calling written by Robert Galbraith a.k.a. J.K. Rowling. I'm not going to compare this book to the Harry Potter series as these two books fall under two totally unrelated genres of literature.
• watching: Nothing at the moment. I was supposed to have a movie date with two of my closest friends but sadly it was postponed due to the spontaneous HOHOL of the complicated family + the inconvenient fever I had last night.
• writing: A short story.
• listening: To Icarus by Bastille! My music taste is very limited, so discovering an artist who's new and unique gives me a certain unsolicited thrill. <33
• wishing:  For a new camera or even better, a new phone. I know that the quality of a photo is not measured by the amount of money spent on the device taking it, however it would be nice to be able to take a photo without worrying if it's dark or pixelated.
• relishing: That post-exam feeling + the idea of a six-day long weekend! 

On the Diversity of My Opinions

As said in my previous post, there was a line in the blockbuster movie Troy that very much hit me like one of Zeus's lightning bolts: Even enemies can show respect.

Now, I may be one to talk, but I do believe everyone (including myself) deserves to feel safe when having an opinion on a certain issue-- regardless of how his or her opinion was formulated. All men come from different walks of life, and I don't think he or she needs to compromise their own opinions for the sake of religion or modernization.

I was brought up in a Catholic household. I have never engaged in pre-marital sex and I rarely experience the regular #HOHOL with friends. I'm not ashamed to tell people of my almost-Hermit lifestyle, but at the same time I don't impose this lifestyle on others.

I recognize that some people enjoy sex, partying and hanging out with friends. As said in my previous post (x), I have no problem with the sex life you have. Your choices are all on you, and unless you ask my on my personal opinion on your lifestyle, I will not put my nose in your business. Likewise, I also expect that some people respect the kind of lifestyle I have. My lifestyle, which is the concoction of values instilled by my family and values that I learned on my own, is something which I feel comfortable in.

I'd also like to clarify that because I am Catholic I do not automatically abhor other idealogies which prove to be "non-Catholic".

I have friends who are Atheists and Agnostics, and I do enjoy listening to their different standpoints on serious issues in our environment. I am well aware of the different religions and cultures outside the Christian community, and I do believe that the validity of an argument is not found in its roots. In example, the current viewpoint society has on rape is, in my humble opinion, a rather prejudiced and unfair one (the clothes get you raped blah blah blah), and yet I have heard it repeated several times by Catholic leaders. The fact that the idealogy is being supported by Catholic leaders does not make it automatically right in my ears.

You'd be surprised to know that I am a passionate supporter of the RH Law, the Divorce Bill and Same Sex Marriage-- ideas which I know are contradictory to the dogma of the Church.

So, to sum it all up, simply respect what I have to say. From time to time, I will bring up several ideas instilled in me by my Catholic upbringing. However, if you expect my blog to be an advocate for everything Catholic, then I should already warn you of your inevitable disappointment.

Just as right and wrong can't be classifed into black and white, opinions and idealogies are not classifed into "Catholic and Non-Catholic"-- what a boring world it would be if they were.

Thoughts on Sex

Earlier today I came across a blog post that tested the obsolete standards created by religious leaders, purists, old-fashioned grandparents and proud feminists. It revolved around the concept of chastity or celibacy—and how, in her opinion, these concepts were over exaggerated and prehistoric. You can see many variations of this post circulate through the different social networking sites (most especially on Tumblr), and of how people are finally accepting that the certain norms of society are out-dated.

I agree with her and with all those who fight for equality in a prejudiced society. Sex should not be the basis for the amount of dignity a person receives. I don’t care of the various physical activities you and your partner attempt to do within the four walls of your bedroom. To quote the great King Priam from the movie Troy, “Even enemies can show respect.”

Probably because I was brought up in a Catholic household, I firmly believe that sex is something sacred and wholesome. I’m not the type of girl who enjoys the one night stand lifestyle. I may not consider it a turn on, and I myself will most probably not engage in sex until I’m mature enough to understand its consequences—but then again who am I to dictate your sex life? If I have every right to remain chaste, then you have every right to have sex. 

Your worth is not measured by the number of tricks, or lack thereof, you can do in bed. 

Ohana

Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten.

The best things in life come in packages of fourteen, bundled with a "how-to-flood-a-WeChat" manual.

Inspite of the many incestuous innuendos and the constant bickering through social media, I do believe that I have found another nice group of friends to spend my recess, lunch and before-dinner-in-bed-me-time with. I may not know how I was able to give birth to four very beautiful ladies or how they managed to create nine pretty (and one handsome) kids, but I'm glad that it happened. I know I'll regret saying this when my Blackberry hangs from the innumerable number of notifications from our WeChat group haha, love you guys so much. 

I love my complicated family. I love my new Ohana.

Thoughts On Individualism

On this fine free day, I sit in the same corner of my house thinking of what else to write about. A thought passes my brain which I momentarily ignore, then surprisingly ponder on for the next few hours. This thought was created by the incessant replay of the RENT soundtrack and the tweets of a close friend of mine (whose identity will not be disclosed). From this jumbled array of ideas, I was able to extract four key concepts on the idea of individualism. Namely:

• Individualism has been the key to the success of many-- and not of one. If we were all painters, then those who cannot be at par with Michaelangelo or Botticelli would simply fade away in the background. However, since society is a mixture of painters, sculpters, writers and Mathletes, individuality has paved way for many genii. 
• Individualism, however, is also the root of uneven and unnecessary competition. 
• Not all accept the concept of individualism, which is why we have people with low self-esteem and people who fancy themselves the embodiedment of God.
• Individualism is not the opposite of unity. Rather, it is in individualism that authentic unity happens. 

Thoughts from Places (from the corner of the living room)

The worst things in life come coupled with the best. For example, in relation to what's happening to the Philippines, if the President decides to abolish the pork barrel then corruption and poverty would decrease drastically. This, of course, is to be followed by the uproar of many senators including the most wonderful, generous and altruisic Janet Napoles.

Before I delve deeper into the messy topic of Philippine politics (hopefully another blogpost), I'd like to elaborate further on the topic of "the best of times, the worst of times"-- senior year version. 

By far, this year is the one that demanded the most from me. The stress I experienced in the first quarter of the school year is far from the short bouts of stress I experienced throughout my entire third year. I have found myself swimming in an ocean of requirements mixed together with student responsibilities, student leader responsibilities and the occassional writer-for-the-Theresian-magazine responsibilities. This along with the constant pressure of the CETs has definitely driven me to the edge, making my Twitter username an almost-truth in the eyes of many. 

Despite all of this, however, I still do feel excited whenever I wake up in the morning. From the start of senior year, I was already enthusiastic about the prospect of meeting new friends and learning new lessons. STC and IV2 did not disappoint me. My grades in all the subjects albeit Economics (huhu, why?) reflect the amount of work I put into them. My love for Math and Science, once burned out by several hell subjects in my third year, has been rekindled once more by two very lovely teachers; and though I'm still struggling with the sudden shift from History to Economics, I thoroughly enjoy my teacher's insights on the Philippine Economy and Politics.

Although, all academics aside, senior year is the best year for me because of the people I spend it with. Besides the friends who have been with me since first year, I have grown attached to several of my classmates. The complicated family has never failed to make my day (and break my phone haha). Random "i love yous" from them, and the even more random conversations over WeChat definitely give me this warm, bubbly feeling inside. This fondness is bittersweet for me because in a few months we will soon be parting ways. The idea of being separated from them scares me. Nevertheless, I'll be sure to visit all my complicated family members during college. Ohana means family, and family means nobody is lefi behind or forgotten. 

And they're not the only friends I was able to reconnect with this year. With fourth year came a new Ica-- who tries to strives for excellence in the field of conversation. I'm not exactly a socialite, but I am now capable of having a decent (yet sabaw) conversation with my friends. I was able to make several friends outside of my inner circle of friends, who accept me regardless of the numerous corny jokes I give them (HAHA hi Raf). 

In conclusion, as I sit here on my favorite green swivel chair, I think that I have finally emerged from the sea of "social martyrdom". I still have a long way to go, compared to my blooming classmates, but the first few steps have been easy enough. What's a couple hundred more? 

The thing about summer...

...is that you try to check everything off your dusty little bucket list in less than 104 days (sorry Phineas and Ferb), and in the end you still neglect certain aspects of your life. For example, though you may have 744 hours of computer time in a month to blog and stalk {stalk stalk stalk stalk stalk stalk stalk stalk} you only to do one of those things in that time span because it is, in your opinion, more important than the other.

You can guess which one I chose to do.  

Hello tuesdayswithIca. After a month of being incognito, {x} we meet again. And it's not entirely because I was lazy. Surprisingly, I was nudged by the almighty god of productivity, which led me to discover more things about myself. Little by little, I was collecting the parts of me that have scattered across two universes and beyond so I could slowly put each piece side by side in order to complete this colossal, virtually incompletable puzzle.

So here it is.

An apology (and a promise).

First and foremost, I'd like to apologize to the girl who I saw in F21. Rereading my post, I saw how I didn't give you any justice. It made you seem like you were just another pretty girl (walking down the street), but really, you're not. You're... you. You're smart, you're pretty, you're witty, you're... you.

That has got to be a very stupid explanation of you, but that's how I see you. I mean, you were (and maybe still are) my friend. Or maybe you're not anymore my friend and that's why I'm painting such a pretty picture of you and ugh this is frustrating me because I can't formulate a proper apology without contradicting myself. I don't know if how I perceive you is the same as who you are, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for writing about you when I barely know you. I want to know you, but it's very hard. I feel tongue tied and embarrassed when I'm around you. I'm a five year old next to you. I'm sorry for feeling like one.

Just remember this.

I know you're not perfect, but seeing you makes me happy. It's the same happy I felt when I learned that Gilly might be applying for UCB. The very same happy I felt when I learned that Auds was my classmate, and when I learned that Michi is finally Eponine-free. It makes me happy to know that even though you were bullied before you, you were able to get up and retaliate.

Second, I'd like to apologize to my readers (WHAT READERS?) I'm sick of all the drama, and I'm sure you are too.  That's why I made a new rule: No more drama on Tuesdays. Drama is specifically reserved for Sundays, Mondays and Wednesdays. Instead, every Tuesday I'll be sharing something that's a big part of my life- like, for instance YOUTUBE.

From Facebook to Tumblr to YOUTUBE. Yes, my website addictions have grown and evolved since my introduction to the internet (barbie.com, anyone?). I no longer spend hours on FB, or procrastinate my work on Tumblr- but I do look out for the latest Vlogbrother video.

Yes, this girl has turned from nerd to nerd fighter... and she thinks you should to. You should check out their channel. Click here. Also, Hank Green (younger brother) produced this short vlog-mini series with Bernie Sue. You may have heard of the Lizzie Bennet Diaries? It's a modern take on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. It gets unrealistic from time to time, but I generally like the humor. You'll get hooked right away. A must for all literary nerds out there. Here's the channel! 

And here's the first video.

Enjoy!

I missed my Tuesday.

I have no excuse for missing it. I just missed it.

There are times when I question my productivity- if that's what you even call my current state. I'm not in the state of Entropy. That frame of mind is strictly reserved for the months of June till mid-March, with certain periods in April. However, I'm not in my start of vacation- the total chilax mode either, the Mad Hatter mode. I'm in the middle, a place which is both refreshing and unnerving. It's a place which people like me rarely visit. It's like a washed down version of paradise.

A masterpiece which was bleached. That's what it is.

Not that it's bad. I like masterpieces. I like bleach. I guess together, they make a perfect combo! Just like Mcdonalds French Fries and Hot Fudge.

Sometimes...

... the universe somehow contorts and creates ways and paths in order for you to realize something.

If it had not been the pressure of a certain event, I would not have created this blog. If it not had been for this blog, I would not have been aware of how down I have been feeling for the past few days. If I had not been aware of how I really felt these past few days, I would not have been stalking a certain someone's Twitter (no; nothing like that. I just admire how this person carries herself, and how her ability to seem confident without being too cocky). If I had not been stalking her Twitter, I would not have seen this:

Dear Sir Jonathan,

If I hadn't forced myself into CCP in order to watch Phantom of the Opera, I would have never truly appreciated the beauty of theatre once more. If I hadn't heard you sing, saw your breathtaking performance, empathized with the Phantoms pain, I wouldn't be the girl I am today. It might not seem like an entirely big or new thing, as I have repeated it to you for the past several... um, months, but for me it (whatever it could be) will always mean something. It meant something when you told me that I could just meet you anytime. It meant something whenever you'd reply to my tweets, it meant something when you hugged me and remembered me. It meant something. 

Jonathan Roxmouth and I at the CCP stagedoor.

If I sound creepy, then I'm sorry. But all I wrote was true. Sir, I'm not trying to put you on a pedastel and to adore you like a god. That wouldn't be sincere enough. Rather I'm just remembering a man -who I only ever talked to on Twitter and Facebook- who was nice to me, and made me (and tons of other PHans) feel special. Simple Tweets such as "come to the stage door!" or "thanks Ica" made me feel significant, and ultimately, helped me gain the self-esteem I had lost months before I met you. 

And I'm sure I'm not the only one who felt that way. I have met PHans, with lives that changed because of Phantom. We met PHriends over the internet, we thought of projects which involved the Phantom, we realized how we're not just the only one there who freaks out when Broadway or Jonathan Roxmouth is mentioned.

And I'm extremely happy because of that. Words will never be enough to express how much I appreciate you and your art- and I'll always remember the day you told me that I wasn't just some insignificant fan, and how I was able to actually help you (even in the smallest possible way). You, sir, serve as an inspiration- someone anyone could look up to. 

Sir Roxmouth, I hope to meet you again- maybe you'll come back again to the Philippines. Maybe I'll see you in London or New York. But sir, no matter what, I'll remain a JRoxer.

Good luck, sir! Everything's going good for you, and though I may not Tweet you as much as I used to, always remember that I'm here for you. I mean, I'll always support you.

Happy birthday, sir Jonathan.

Love,

Ica

Oblivion

One day, we'll all be but scattered bits of dust. I won't matter, you won't matter. None of this will matter. What you did, and what you'll do will never matter billions of years from now. 

However, what you're doing will most definitely change your life forever.

~~

The only thing we have control over is the present. It is wrong to dwell in the past- to relive memories, to feel the hurt and love again. It is wrong to dwell on the future- to spend most of your life worrying on what's going to happen a milisecond later. It is because of these things that life loses its true meaning- and where we simply forget to live.

And I don't know how I feel about that. 

Thoughts on College

It’s funny how college is basically school with an inconsistent schedule. You’re there for your classes for about two hours, then you’re free to leave campus and go gallivanting around the immediate area for approximately four hours, then you’re almost NOT required to go back and attend the rest of your classes. Compared to the hectic schedule of my beloved student torture chamber… or STC,  it almost seems like a mini-summer vacation where you won’t get too stressed out. Almost. 

One Hell of a Paperperson: Thoughts of a John Green fanatic and a (former) Augustus Waters worshipper

“Here's what's not beautiful about it: from here, you can't see the rust or the cracked paint or whatever, but you can tell what the place really is. You can see how fake it all is. It's not even hard enough to be made out of plastic. It's a paper town. I mean, look at it, Q: look at all those culs-de-sac, those streets that turn in on themselves, all the houses that were built to fall apart. All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm. All the paper kids drinking beer some bum bought for them at the paper convenience store. Everyone demented with the mania of owning things. All the things paper-thin and paper-frail. And all the people, too. I've lived here for eighteen years and I have never once in my life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters.” 

~~~

               

I started PaperTowns last week and, as my reading progress has been slow the past few months (I blame the beautiful and incredibly annoying works of Maganda Pa Ang Daigdig and Noli Me Tangere), conquered roughly 200 pages of this very popular Young Adults novel. So while Q searches for his Margo, I decided to brush off the spiderwebs of my newest blog in order to start my new years resolution: to carpe diem.

So while I have neglected John Green’s masterpiece for days, I’m starting to understand how most of my friends would tell me “Papertowns > TFIOS”, when Amazon would say otherwise. And, I’m still grappling with this thought so I’m sorry if I sound like an incoherent mess, while I consider Augustus Waters an amazing boy who any girl would die to be with- especially since he wrote Hazel an epilogue (An. Epilogue. Who. Does. That.); and while I know I’m starting to go all Holden Caulfield on him, I do believe that there’s something not quite right with him. Which is why I prefer Q – yes, Quentin “I need to find that slice of hotness called Margo Spiegelman” Jacobsen over him.

Now, it’s not that Q is as amazingly perfect Augustus Waters seemingly is (we’ve already established the fact that Augustus Waters is the standards which most guys fail to meet)- actually, it’s quite the opposite. Q is a flawed, annoying, clingy, and above all, average teenage boy. His ‘I’ll find you even if you don’t want to be found because you’re wrong if you don’t want to be found’ seems fairly selfish compared to Waters’ ‘I’ll write you a goddamn epilogue, even if it means trying to formulate proper, coherent paragraphs while I’m suffering from terminal cancer’. Q is selfish- or at least, he seems like one from the reader’s point of view.  However I’d like to also point out that while his character is the personification of teenage stupidity, his character is also the synecdoche of us teenagers- especially those who consider themselves as socially inept beings. Who here has not dreamt of going to prom with the date of their dreams? Who here has not dreamt of actually being respected by his or her peers and enemies? Who here has not dreamt of a Margo Spiegelman (or in my case, an Augutus Waters)?

                Oh John Green, you awaken the hipster within me.

                 

What’s more is that Augustus Waters seems like such a Paper person compared to Q. I’ve seen Augusteses or Augutii in my real life, even liked one at some point during my first year life (dear god, do not ask about that), and they turn out to be fake Augustus Waters. The ‘I’ll write you an epilogue’ line can work in books- it worked on Hazel Grace and it certainly worked on me as well. However, I need to constantly remind myself that my life is not John Green’s next best-seller. That sometimes people as geeky and as sweet as Q can actually come through in the end; that maybe he (or you, if you relate to Q) doesn’t need to be perfect in order to be great, and that maybe being yourself can lead you to something that goes beyond that initial scale of greatness- something which only you’ll be able to see.

But wait, here's the twist in all of this. Somehow I feel as if I need to be in a PaperTown to become who I am. To become a real person- to know how to change. It doesn't make sense but being in a fake area, acting as fake as a person can be, can change a person. For the longest time, I've come to hate my fake self. I've come to hate how I disliked everything and everyone- how I tried to be a god-forbid hipster, in order to be liked. I wallowed in self-pity to become a perfect person. And frankly, that just sucks.

But without going through all the fake, I wouldn't have been the person I am today. Reading this, you may assume that I'm the real deal; that I removed that Invisibilty Cloak and prostate myself infront of all of you- if that's what you're thinking, then you are so wrong.

I'm still paper; and, while I see the road to un-papering myself as a perpetual one, I'm ready to travel and wait for the end.  Each day of being paper is another day of becoming what you really are- a masterpiece.

And that’s why right now, I’m okay with being a paper person in this PaperTown.

My life now may not be the life I’ve always dreamt of having, but it will always be that real goddamn life which I sure I will be thankful for in the future. STC may not be the place where I am able to fully spread my wings, but it sure as hell is the place that prepares my multi-colored, symmetrical butterfly wings  to sprout just in time for the real life. The Philippines may not be the place to be (well, it’s not for me), but what kind of person would I have been without it? That maybe I’m not the person I wish I am, but I’m pretty sure that I wouldn’t be anyone else in this whole world in the near future.

So, right now I’m still among the many blank bond papers, placed inside a Manila envelope- just waiting. Waiting for an FBI correspondent to use the paper for a super-secret document. Waiting for  a screenplay artist to write the first draft of his new blockbuster hit on me. Waiting for a better Ica to finally do something to me- something that will ultimately change my life. Right now, I’m a goddamn paper person- and I’m okay with that. 

~~~

Side note: The sudden burst of optimism frightens me. Please ignore the last two posts, and try to focus on this one. You won't regret it. I hope.

Another Cliché: The very first post

Another cliché, another first step.

Oh, the stupidity of me to open another blog- even if I can predict how this may end. In due time this blog shall fade away into nothingness- only to be found months later by a much bitter and mature Ica. The life cycle of my blogs always end up to be incredibly short, with the exception of my Tumblr which I too have abandoned for the strange thing known as life, and I always end up creating a new one for a very new and  clichéd beginning. That lasts for about, ten minutes, then once again my tumultuous family life acts up again and I'm forced to leave the blog in order to save myself from the inevitable humiliation.

The only thing that's making me open a new blog is because of that small light of hope that I have been dreaming of. This Christmas break, if the stars will permit it, might be the start of the revolution within me. Perhaps the stars will finally align and change my fate, and that one day my hormone driven self will wake up to see that me I've been looking for in a long time...