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Showing posts with label optimism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label optimism. Show all posts

Saturday, November 2, 2013

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

Monday, September 2, 2013

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.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

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? 

Thursday, May 30, 2013

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.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

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.

Saturday, March 2, 2013

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:


Friday, February 15, 2013

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.
 

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