The thing I hate most about myself is when I eat my words. Words glazed with caramel. Sinful and fattening.
Friends, I want to change things. This time, I'm coming clean. I am in denial. I have always been in denial. And now, I am breaking the truth to myself. It's ironic 'cause it's something I've always known but which I convince myself of its non-existence. Now I'm done. I'm finally embracing reality that you will never see me the way you saw me before. That you aren't anymore the man who is happiest in my presence. That I'm the decomposer in the food chain--always last on the list. That you would never. Love. Me.
They finally left. I guess he's had enough too. He's had enough showing me how much I meant to him because everytime he did, I closed my eyes to give room to your "affection" that maybe wasn't really there, maybe was just something that I pathetically invented. So in case you let go of my grip for the who knows how much number of time, he won't be there anymore to catch me. I saw this coming. But it's alright, he deserves to be loved, too.
If you'd appear by my side again to make me feel I matter, I will read this note twenty-one times to remind me that tonight you hurt me. Hurt me like all those other times where I felt like I'm just a speck in the universe.
Now, it's just me and my soaked sheets humming in unison until daylight peeks in. Lah lah lahh. Tomorrow it'll be like any other day--I'd struggle waking up, be a responsible student (read that with sarcasm), then come home to mama and papa. The only difference this time is that I'll be looking forward to that dull and boring routine. I'll be doing it all over and over and over again until one day, I'll bump into you, say my hello, and go on sipping coffee with my friends without even wanting your embrace.
But smile, you would always be in my prayers. I guess when you love someone you would never want to have him hurt. Never ever.
As I stare at my reflection, I see somebody exhausted.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not tired of you. I'm just tired of hurting.
I want to feel beautiful again. I want my knees to stop shaking. And by the time I would, I will finally believe it.
Good night
Monday, October 12, 2009
No More Lying to Self
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Confessions of Another Shopaholic
I must say, I did not grow up unprivileged. My parents always bestowed me with everything I fancied. I remember having two 3-feet high barrels filled with my collection of playthings at the age of four; yet for a child, this was quite considerable. Now, at eighteen, the case is even scarier.
As I grew older, so did my yearning for material things. It has shifted from a juvenile interest in a plastic tea set to a desire for a pair of shoes, a top, with a matching bag at once. Bring me to the mall and I’d turn into a magnet drawing towards anything I find fabulous. I see, I like, and I buy. Unless I can’t afford it, then I see, I like, and I cry. I even get a rare case of insomnia wherein the image of the thing I want to have keeps flashing in my head all night that I get up looking with eyes like a raccoon’s the next day.
I’d tell my dad that he’ll make me the happiest girl in the world if he would get me the latest design of flip-flops and when he does, I’m only the happiest girl in the world until the next collection is released in the market.
I look at my crammed closet that is soon to blow up and I realize that even if I get another bag of cash, I still wouldn’t be able to get everything I wanted because satisfaction doesn’t come from having more money. My consciousness even intensified when I came across a conversation in a magazine article. A reporter once asked John D. Rockfeller, the richest man during his time, “Sir, how much does it take to satisfy a man?” He then replied, “Just a little more than what he already has.” Indeed, Rockfeller’s reply was like a huge rock that hit me in the head. I’ve been an addict all along. The thing that was painting beams on my face was the same thing that was destroying me. This seriously has to stop.
I know I still find myself wanting to buy impulsively and I have to confess that I am still a work in progress; but this time, I recognize my blunders immediately and stop before they turn me into a monster once again. Thanks to friends who wouldn’t mind screaming at me when my fingers itch and crave for another rock that glitters. In time, I shall escape from this bittersweet obsession.
XOXO,
♥Andi Dandi♥
As I grew older, so did my yearning for material things. It has shifted from a juvenile interest in a plastic tea set to a desire for a pair of shoes, a top, with a matching bag at once. Bring me to the mall and I’d turn into a magnet drawing towards anything I find fabulous. I see, I like, and I buy. Unless I can’t afford it, then I see, I like, and I cry. I even get a rare case of insomnia wherein the image of the thing I want to have keeps flashing in my head all night that I get up looking with eyes like a raccoon’s the next day.
I’d tell my dad that he’ll make me the happiest girl in the world if he would get me the latest design of flip-flops and when he does, I’m only the happiest girl in the world until the next collection is released in the market.
I look at my crammed closet that is soon to blow up and I realize that even if I get another bag of cash, I still wouldn’t be able to get everything I wanted because satisfaction doesn’t come from having more money. My consciousness even intensified when I came across a conversation in a magazine article. A reporter once asked John D. Rockfeller, the richest man during his time, “Sir, how much does it take to satisfy a man?” He then replied, “Just a little more than what he already has.” Indeed, Rockfeller’s reply was like a huge rock that hit me in the head. I’ve been an addict all along. The thing that was painting beams on my face was the same thing that was destroying me. This seriously has to stop.
I know I still find myself wanting to buy impulsively and I have to confess that I am still a work in progress; but this time, I recognize my blunders immediately and stop before they turn me into a monster once again. Thanks to friends who wouldn’t mind screaming at me when my fingers itch and crave for another rock that glitters. In time, I shall escape from this bittersweet obsession.
XOXO,
♥Andi Dandi♥
Sincerely Yours
So here's the thing, out of the blue, a friend asked me about the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I was taken aback and nothing but black dust swirled inside my head. Finally, I've figured out the answer.
SINCERELY YOURS
Verse: (Cadd9 - Em - C - D)
Drop one tear
And I'll drop another million tears for you
And I'll drop another million tears for you
I can have all the things I want
But its you I badly want to have
But its you I badly want to have
Prechorus:
Say to me to get a bit closer
'Cause I'm afraid
I'm getting a liitle too close but. .
Chorus: (G - C - Em - D)
You're simply wonderful
So undescribable
And even if a song for you
Can be written in time
You're still somebody
I find hard to define
You're simply beautiful
Simply undescribable
And even if a song for you
Can be written in a line
You're still somebody
I find hard to define
Verse:
You're all I want
A pretty lady
Who provides courage for her own
But then if bravery
Isn't enough to bite your fears
Just look around and you'll realize
I was there all along
chorus:
You're simply wonderful
So undescribable
And even if a song for you
Can be written in time
You're still somebody
I find hard to define
You're simply beautiful
So undescribable
And even if a song for you
Can be written in a line
You're still somebody
I find hard to define
Bridge: (Em - C - Cm - D)
And while I was hoping
I could find the best song for you
I saw that the hardest part of singing
Is singing without you
(I guess I never got the chance to thank you for this. The whole world should see what an amazing composer you are ;-) )
Credits to: Ralph Martin
Contributing Writer
That Lame Excuse
Serendipity, fortune, fate—I say to myself “rriiggghhhttt…”
Pardon my cynicism but the reliance on such things gives me a good laugh. Don’t get me wrong. The fanciful wild bird is still here, but while I remain in the beauty and delights of life, I also believe that visions should come with actions. The famous song lines “Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be” just do not work for me.
Whoever believes in destiny makes himself nothing less than a dormant volcano, sitting idle and just waiting. Thomas Jefferson, the third President of the United States, expressed in his writings how wonderful it is how much may be done if we are always doing. The truth is that we are all bound to greatness. We may not possess the same skills or things that others have but we all share one thing in common, that is, the ability to succeed. Who would have known that behind Albert Einstein’s accomplishments, there laid his speech disabilities? You see, not even our flaws dictate how our lives should run. Failure is a choice, so is happiness.
If we want something so bad, we have to work hard for it and if after so many trials we wouldn’t achieve such goal, then it may not be what God wants us to have for He wants us to achieve something far more special. God is our driving teacher. He tells us when to turn left or right and when to hit the brakes or speed up. It is up to us whether or not we heed His command; hence, we direct our tragic crash or successful arrival.
An abstract and helpless concept such as destiny will never be able to subdue us, living, talking, and moving human beings. Scan all the scientific books you can find and you would never come across the explanation that Thomas Edison invented the light bulb because he was destined to do so; rather, you would end up reading again and again that he was able to come up with such great invention because he endeavoured and went through all the knotty formulas, procedures, and failures to achieve his goal. Think about it, fate is merely a lame excuse of those who didn’t try hard enough.
XOXO,
Pardon my cynicism but the reliance on such things gives me a good laugh. Don’t get me wrong. The fanciful wild bird is still here, but while I remain in the beauty and delights of life, I also believe that visions should come with actions. The famous song lines “Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be” just do not work for me.
Whoever believes in destiny makes himself nothing less than a dormant volcano, sitting idle and just waiting. Thomas Jefferson, the third President of the United States, expressed in his writings how wonderful it is how much may be done if we are always doing. The truth is that we are all bound to greatness. We may not possess the same skills or things that others have but we all share one thing in common, that is, the ability to succeed. Who would have known that behind Albert Einstein’s accomplishments, there laid his speech disabilities? You see, not even our flaws dictate how our lives should run. Failure is a choice, so is happiness.
If we want something so bad, we have to work hard for it and if after so many trials we wouldn’t achieve such goal, then it may not be what God wants us to have for He wants us to achieve something far more special. God is our driving teacher. He tells us when to turn left or right and when to hit the brakes or speed up. It is up to us whether or not we heed His command; hence, we direct our tragic crash or successful arrival.
An abstract and helpless concept such as destiny will never be able to subdue us, living, talking, and moving human beings. Scan all the scientific books you can find and you would never come across the explanation that Thomas Edison invented the light bulb because he was destined to do so; rather, you would end up reading again and again that he was able to come up with such great invention because he endeavoured and went through all the knotty formulas, procedures, and failures to achieve his goal. Think about it, fate is merely a lame excuse of those who didn’t try hard enough.
XOXO,
♥Andi Dandi♥
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
So for the Drama
He cheated on you, he dumped you, blah blah, then what? Show me a grin honey; it’s happened to almost everyone. Whether it’s been a cute summer fling or half a decade romance saga, there’s always that relationship hang over you need to outlast in order to carry on with your life.
Ssshhhh… I know… it’s such a barrel of pain. Losing someone you thought would be what most people call “the one” feels like falling into a black hole where there’s no way out. It even hurts a lot more when you invested and expected too much from your relationship that would just suddenly end up in a burst of a bubble. Take it from someone who’s sworn to abstain from dating forever—well, okay, for at least the next few months, because of the insensitivity and self-centeredness of almost the entire male race. I have my reasons, just to clarify.
It really is so ironic when you feel out of the loops and get into the constant questioning of “Why? Why? Why?” but still force your brain to infect itself with the so-called ‘how-we-ended-amnesia.’ Then, when seeking the gal’s gospel advices, you continuously utter the “I-don’t-want-to-be-his-friend-cliché’ but still get the urge to call him late at night to just hear a few seconds of that graceful baritone. You go delete his number from your contacts list; but oh please, you’ve memorized it way better than the country’s national anthem. For months you always find yourself staying late in bed, nibbling that chocolate bar you didn’t know contained 150-300 calories, because you keep skipping your meals just like how heartbroken teenage girls do in television soaps.
(What? Did I just hit you?)
There are billions of stories from billions of girls but everyone agrees that sure it’s hard to do, but it’s definitely not impossible to overcome; and it all begins with believing you can hog the limelight once more and enjoy for the second time around.
Truly, getting out of a relationship is indeed very wearisome that’s why you always need to give yourself time, not to wallow in self-pity but to cry and emancipate all the angst; but then, bear in mind that you must also learn when to say “Enough!” Depression can indeed be very debilitating if you allow it to consume you.
Getting out of the pit is easier said than done. For now, everything seems hopeless and helpless that nothing anyone says or does could help fit the tattered pieces perfectly, or so as it seems. Let the past stay there—what was can never be or will be. Just learn to accept present realities and don’t hang on to maybe’s and what if’s. Remember, where you are is where God wants you to be. There is still that long and fabulous runway to strut, and listen, guys are never the antidotes who we couldn’t live without! You don’t belong to anyone else but yourself. There are more things to relish rather than mulling over the jerk who never even deserved you in the first place. Go get that makeover and shopping spree, then show the world your whole new repaired persona. Realize that the prize to be won is you and from this very moment, don’t you dare allow anyone to ever again let you think less of who you actually are.
You are loved, beautiful. ;-)
XOXO,
♥Andi Dandi♥
Ssshhhh… I know… it’s such a barrel of pain. Losing someone you thought would be what most people call “the one” feels like falling into a black hole where there’s no way out. It even hurts a lot more when you invested and expected too much from your relationship that would just suddenly end up in a burst of a bubble. Take it from someone who’s sworn to abstain from dating forever—well, okay, for at least the next few months, because of the insensitivity and self-centeredness of almost the entire male race. I have my reasons, just to clarify.
It really is so ironic when you feel out of the loops and get into the constant questioning of “Why? Why? Why?” but still force your brain to infect itself with the so-called ‘how-we-ended-amnesia.’ Then, when seeking the gal’s gospel advices, you continuously utter the “I-don’t-want-to-be-his-friend-cliché’ but still get the urge to call him late at night to just hear a few seconds of that graceful baritone. You go delete his number from your contacts list; but oh please, you’ve memorized it way better than the country’s national anthem. For months you always find yourself staying late in bed, nibbling that chocolate bar you didn’t know contained 150-300 calories, because you keep skipping your meals just like how heartbroken teenage girls do in television soaps.
(What? Did I just hit you?)
There are billions of stories from billions of girls but everyone agrees that sure it’s hard to do, but it’s definitely not impossible to overcome; and it all begins with believing you can hog the limelight once more and enjoy for the second time around.
Truly, getting out of a relationship is indeed very wearisome that’s why you always need to give yourself time, not to wallow in self-pity but to cry and emancipate all the angst; but then, bear in mind that you must also learn when to say “Enough!” Depression can indeed be very debilitating if you allow it to consume you.
Getting out of the pit is easier said than done. For now, everything seems hopeless and helpless that nothing anyone says or does could help fit the tattered pieces perfectly, or so as it seems. Let the past stay there—what was can never be or will be. Just learn to accept present realities and don’t hang on to maybe’s and what if’s. Remember, where you are is where God wants you to be. There is still that long and fabulous runway to strut, and listen, guys are never the antidotes who we couldn’t live without! You don’t belong to anyone else but yourself. There are more things to relish rather than mulling over the jerk who never even deserved you in the first place. Go get that makeover and shopping spree, then show the world your whole new repaired persona. Realize that the prize to be won is you and from this very moment, don’t you dare allow anyone to ever again let you think less of who you actually are.
You are loved, beautiful. ;-)
XOXO,
♥Andi Dandi♥
Image source: http://mimi-na.deviantart.com/art/Wonder-Woman-26670287
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Straight from the Jar
I sit and wait in a café, staring at what seems to be an endless pattern of chocolate brown swirls, anticipating the clock to finally strike 7pm. A woman right in front of me whose favorite color would be anything but baby blue and whose eyes enveloped with thick black, false eyelashes that never at all fail to annoy opened my eyes to a reality—time has been speeding up lately. Before I would know it, I too, may become one of those coffee-sipping women who are overly dependent on their monthly face-lifting sessions. Yikes.
Just last month, I celebrated my 18th birthday and after days of browsing through dictionaries and thesauruses, I still haven’t succeeded in finding the exact words to describe how it went. Fun? It was more than that. Seamless? Not quite.
I look back and recall how it was for me way before I was shorter than my wooden cabinet, seeing how adolescents seemed to be really in their prime by the time they get their first pimples. I look at myself now and get humored by the idea that at eighteen, I still enjoy a good laugh while watching Disney princesses’ movies when I thought I would already be bothering about what companies to apply to, or what specific careers to take. Am I still stuck in my realm of castles and flying unicorns? Will I be ready for the massive, scary world that waits?
Just last month, I celebrated my 18th birthday and after days of browsing through dictionaries and thesauruses, I still haven’t succeeded in finding the exact words to describe how it went. Fun? It was more than that. Seamless? Not quite.
I look back and recall how it was for me way before I was shorter than my wooden cabinet, seeing how adolescents seemed to be really in their prime by the time they get their first pimples. I look at myself now and get humored by the idea that at eighteen, I still enjoy a good laugh while watching Disney princesses’ movies when I thought I would already be bothering about what companies to apply to, or what specific careers to take. Am I still stuck in my realm of castles and flying unicorns? Will I be ready for the massive, scary world that waits?
Thinking of all these, I feel a knot in my throat as I am pressured to mature in an instant. It’s as if I am obliged to already know the answers to a six-year-old’s question about the purpose of existence and all that jazz, when I honestly, do not. I get so consumed by the fretfulness of knowing whether or not I’ve learned enough things normal 18-year-olds would. I wonder why I still pick a catty fight with my sister who’s only a fifth grader when I’m supposed to have graduated from that act several years ago. Most of all, I question myself why I despise the idea of learning how to line up to pay the electricity bill and rather enjoy my life blowing bubbles and eating peanut butter straight out from the jar.
Yes, for a while I started trying to think, feel, and act as a grown-up. I put up that solemn visage and began becoming more serious and profound. I did get rid of some of my foolish infantile stunts; but, at the same time I was losing that one thing I choose to believe matters a lot—myself. Oh boy did the whole ‘play adult act’ bore me and I knew I wanted to see the end of it. I didn’t want that once wild and carefree spirit within me completely fade away. I realized that I shouldn’t be living in the past nor the future; but, in the present. I literally smacked myself on the head to recognize that I’m only young once and I should make the most out of this moment that will never again return. I need not to worry much about tomorrow; it will take care of itself. All I actually have to think about is that I should be glad that even up to this age, I am still able to see the world in Skittles’ colors and not in dull sepia shades. I am not afraid to declare that I will continue to play silly, I will still have my share of boo-boos , I will keep in mind that maturity does not have to be forced, and yes, I will still eat peanut butter straight out from the jar. ☺
Yes, for a while I started trying to think, feel, and act as a grown-up. I put up that solemn visage and began becoming more serious and profound. I did get rid of some of my foolish infantile stunts; but, at the same time I was losing that one thing I choose to believe matters a lot—myself. Oh boy did the whole ‘play adult act’ bore me and I knew I wanted to see the end of it. I didn’t want that once wild and carefree spirit within me completely fade away. I realized that I shouldn’t be living in the past nor the future; but, in the present. I literally smacked myself on the head to recognize that I’m only young once and I should make the most out of this moment that will never again return. I need not to worry much about tomorrow; it will take care of itself. All I actually have to think about is that I should be glad that even up to this age, I am still able to see the world in Skittles’ colors and not in dull sepia shades. I am not afraid to declare that I will continue to play silly, I will still have my share of boo-boos , I will keep in mind that maturity does not have to be forced, and yes, I will still eat peanut butter straight out from the jar. ☺
XOXO,
♥Andi Dandi♥
Saturday, January 17, 2009
What You Don't Know
Yes, I now officially run my own publication. It’s nothing prestigious, but I am pleased to call it my own. I am not talking about a new broadsheet circulating in town. That’s way too much for a college student who only relies on her daily school allowance for wardrobe budget. I am talking about what you’re seeing on screen right now—an unfussy blog entitled Exist and Squiggle.
Coming up with this online journal isn’t as quick as a finger’s snap. Planning its entire vision is as challenging as deciding on what to wear for an awaited ball. I knew I had to bring into being something that you would not only click then navigate away from.
Generating ideas for postings is indeed consuming. There are a lot of elements I have to bear in mind such as my blog’s generation of your interest, grammar rules and content, as well as codes of ethics of writers. Unlike in school where I have teachers to approve which of my works pass, in self-publication, I basically have myself to assess whether or not my work makes the cut; and believe me, such task needs a lot of thinking.
In managing this blog, I have to try to be in your stilettos and not in mine alone. I don’t just wake up and ask myself what I should write about; but also, what you would want to read. This is the part I've always found most challenging. With so many new blogs starting every day, it takes a lot of effort for me to build my own readership. As a blogger for an online teen magazine, I aim to compose postings that would be your voice; hence, I work hard to be able to achieve my blog’s goal, that is, that we connect and grow together into fierce women in society.
I don’t just confine myself to this publication. I too, explore other blogs in niches related to mine. I don’t copy them of course. Instead, I take inspiration from these blogs but produce mine into something that will still clutch on to my own identity. Keeping up with news stories related to my topic is a challenge as well. Since I aim targeting young maidens, I have to update myself every now and then of the latest buzzes and incorporate them into my personal experiences. I don’t want to bore you with the narration of my life since the day I started saying the words ‘mama’ and ‘dada’ because this blog is not just about me; it’s about us, and as what they say, entertaining people and keeping them thrilled with your company takes a great amount of wit and personality.
Lastly, running an online publication does not only require me to toil with words and writings. I also, have to live up with the challenge of becoming computer literate, not necessarily a techie though. Every chance I get, I perform the responsibility of researching and orienting myself with online applications that would improve my blog’s presentation but I must say I am still a work in progress at that.
Truly, in most cases, it takes a long time to succeed as a blogger—no one is an overnight success. I don’t aim for my blog’s popularity anyway. As long as I get to inspire, I am okay.
XOXO,
♥Andi Dandi♥
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