Wednesday, December 16, 2009

What I would rather be doing...

Right now. I am supposed to be studying the last part of my notes. Right now I am procrastinating. Right now I need to go pee. Instead I am typing this blog.
What I would rather be doing is...
-sleeping in my warm sheets
-petting my cat
-eating something tasty
-jumping on a plane to the other side of the world
-exchanging stories with a friend
-listening to music
-watching another Korean drama
-baking my special peanut butter cookies
-reading the rest of Orlando
-cleaning up my room and discovering things
-playing with my makeup
-pretending to advertise the things I own
-painting my toe nails a bright colour
-bargain hunting at some store
-walking around in the mall by myself
-counting money
-in the Philippines with my cousins
-going to my grandmas house
-organizing my sweaters
-surfing the soompi forums
-taking lots of pictures

But instead I am stuck here. Still procrastinating.
it is 8:37 and I still need to go pee.

It's okay I will endure it.

Tomorrow I am free.

Monday, December 14, 2009

I'm Alive

-come back from church and everyone is frozen, cops are standing in their place, a voice is heard from the speakers controlling them
-a victim is crying in the middle
-the person on the speaker got the police men to strip down only to their underwear
-we are scared and walk past them "I don't think it's a good idea to stay here"
-we walk quickly to our house
-no one is outside
-everything is quiet
-one person is walking his dog
-we go inside, I lock all the doors
-my mom and dad disappears
-we have 5 floors in our house, the fifth floor has the elevator
-my sister and I part ways
-I go to the fifth floor
-All the blinds are open so I decide to close all of them
-I hear voices
-"Hey someone closed the blinds..."
-I turn around, there are two teenage boys *the killers*
-one of them says: That means there's a pretty girl in here...
"Oh shit!" I say out loud, because the guy reaches into his pocket for the gun
-I can't find the elevator out of panic, I only see the flights of stairs,
-I jump from the fifth floor and *survive*
-I keep running
-when one of the guys sees that I'm still running *don't know how he did*, he starts shooting the gun like a maniac, and the two killers part ways to chase after me
-there are other girls in the building, I tell them to run for their lives, but they just stand there
-I begin to run down the stairs but I see them below me coming up
-So I start to run back up, run down the corridor and I find the elevator
-I meet up with my sister who is running the opposite direction toward the killers
-so I run after her...
-but we get cornered
-The guys are pointing their guns at us *btw the guns look like a toilet plumber with an explosive on the end---so dumb*
-anyways, then I grab the stick part of the toilet plumber gun and try to point it in the opposite direction, the guy tries to stop me
-my sister does the same thing
-suddenly the elevator door opens and their is a tall girl with a gun
-The bad guys are relieved, (she's on their side)
-while the guys were distracted I take his gun and throw it at the girl's gun
-so does my sister
-and then I ran to press the elevator button (don't know how I could do all this at once...)
-and then the guy was like: Oh shit it's gonna blow up
-The elevator is about to close but my sister runs inside
-The bad guys try to get in, but we push the elevator door closed
-My sister and I look in the elevator mirror, she had lost one of her circle lenses

-and then I woke up b/c I was too scared of what was going to happen next
-and I was sweating when I woke up, like I was actually running hahahahahaha!
-This dream is pretty much messed up! I had to do it in point form because I knew I was going to forget if I wrote in long descriptive sentences.. oh man excuse the terrible grammar.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

We're moving at the speed of light

we are moving so fast
we leave
we're like moving flocks of ants
there we are one minute
the next
We are moving so fast
that we did not
SEE a girl crying next to us
NOTICE the dollar on the ground
HELP an old lady who tripped and fell
or TAKE PART in a precious moment
The deaf child smiles at us...
did we REALIZE that the sky was so blue?
We are moving too quickly
where are we going?
for what?
Is there something important that must be done?
I don't know
We move like scuttling rats in the sewers
Is that what we've become?
Where has common courtesy gone?
LOVE is lost
We are moving too quickly
we could not lend our seat
we did not see a ten dollar bill fall out of our pocket
we forgot to say hello to our friends
When will we stop
and hear the world around us
before it's gone.

Monday, November 9, 2009


where does the time go
the seconds wasting away
the paper is still blank
my mind is still wandering
my thoughts travelling on their own

then realization hits us
the due date is drawing nearer
and we remember the paper
that is still blank
it's due tomorrow

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Hello Sophie!

Sophie would like to say hello : )

Saturday, August 29, 2009

My mom says it's still summer...

but I want it to be fall!

The wind is colder, the sun's touch is warm, the night comes faster. Is it fall??
I can't exaggerate how I much I adore this season! It's perfect! (EXCEPT for the crane flies but whatever) All the new fashion comes out IN THE FALL. You can wear hoodies IN THE FALL. You can jump in the leaves IN THE FALL. There are beautiful leaves and colours all around. It's not super hot, and your makeup doesn't melt. You're not sweating like crazy, and you can feel confortable in your clothes! And it's not so cold that you have to wear an eskimo jacket!
The air is crisp and the leaves swirl around in the air. Don't you love FALL?

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Do you know what...

THIS is?
A treat for you... halo-halo ("mix-mix*) A filipino dessert! Only because you guys are so great!
What's in it: shaved ice, chocolate ice cream, coconut shavings, sweet black beans and ube

Monday, August 24, 2009

He Doesn't Remember This

aside: This is a piece I wrote for my writer's craft class (grade 12) It is a narrative essay. We had to choose a story from our past and prove the meaning and message of it.

I am not exactly the type of person who would happily volunteer to jump out of a plane, but for some reason my gut instinct convinced me to make the first move.
I was going to tell him how I felt.
Heck, it looked easy enough in movies.
I'm not going to lie. I really liked this guy. I didn't know anyone like him; charming, funny and intelligent--despite the gap between his two front teeth. Tyler made my thirteen- year- old heart race. I couldn't sleep at night; all I could think about was Tyler this, Tyler that, and after a huge debate with myself, I decided that I was going to confess to Tyler at church. My goal was to give him a note that professed my "like like" feelings which read:

Dear Tyler,
I like you. I think you are very nice and smart. You are very funny and I was wondering if we could get to know each other more. When is your birthday?

That Saturday night, I folded the note neatly into a small white envelope, that I decorated with hearts and smiley faces. I didn't want to keep my feelings bottled up inside any longer. Everyone at school was able to tell their crushes that they "like-liked" them, I wanted to do it too. I was motivated.
The next day, my heart was pounding like a monster banging against my ribcage, trying to escape. It was angry at me, frustrated that I was taking too long to tell him. It was anxious to yell and scream on its own...if it could. My heart was pounding so fast that I could hear it in my ears, beating like a drum. I could barely concentrate on the Sunday school lesson. The teacher's voice dragged on like the teacher from Charlie Brown, monotonous and robotic. I wanted to shut it off. All I could think about was the little white envelope and the note inside of it.
After the lesson, I grabbed Tyler by the arm and pulled him outside. We stood under the huge pine tree in front of the chapel, where hopefully I thought no one could see us. For some reason, time seemed to slow down to torture me. Everything around us moved in slow motion, singing crickets and passing cars filled the empty air. It felt like I was standing in the same place forever, yet one minute probably passed. Once again I could feel my heart starting to act up again...great another drum solo. Tyler must've heard it too. He stared at me confused, and asked, "So what did you want to tell me?"
As I reached into my pocket to grab my heart, Joanna, my school bully and arch nemesis, saw us under the tree and yelled, "Oh la la, what are you two doing under there?"
My palms began to get sweaty, and out of embarassment I hastily shoved the "Like Note" into Tyler's hands. My eyes yearned to see his facial expression but it was too dark. Was he even reading it? At that moment I figured that two things could happen: One, he could run off screaming, "Eww cooties!" or Two, the feeling could be mutual. It became dead silent. All I could here was my mad breathing and heavy heartbeats.
"Sorry Melanie. But I really don't like you like that."
--------------------------------*rewind sound*

Yes, I was turned down. At least he rejected me nicely. It also wasn't as bad as I thought; my heart has stopped pounding, and I didn't shed a single tear. Although I felt a bit dry. BUT, that is not the message I am trying to get across.
What I realized was that taking risks is important. If I didn't confess, I would've been wondering to this day. What if he felt the same way as I did? If I didn't take that chance to shove that "Like Note" into his hands, I would've never known (yeah it was pretty lame! I know what you're thinking! I was thirteen! FYI)

We should always try to grab opportunities while they are right in front of us. It doesn't necessarily mean that we have to change our personalities and become more spontaneous. It just means that the 50/50 chance we take could turn out to be something worthwhile. (well mine didn't, but...yours might!)

I miss this.

& you would too! The sandy beach of Sauble.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Journal Entry: This reminds me of a time when...

Looking at the colour yellow remind me of the big sun in the sky. Which reminds me of my trip to the Philippines. Which reminds me of my big eyed cousins. Which reminds me of their pet monkey. Which reminds me of the monkey's poo, that looked like chocolate. Which reminds me of those chocolate shells that taste so good. Which reminds me of my grade 10 French class. Which reminds me of my white haired teacher. Which reminds me of the blizzard we had last year. Which reminds me of the time I stayed up all night to finish up my project. Which reminds me of the small brown mouse who would go up to me at night.Which reminds me of our old house. Which reminds me of the scary puppies our neighbor had. Which reminds me of my sister cart wheeling down the stairs. Which reminds me of the green carpet. Which reminds me of the apples on the farm. Which reminds me of the first day we got our cat. Which reminds me of how crazy she is. Which reminds me of the creepy night when a girl came at our door at one in the morning. Which reminds me of being paralyzed at night. Which reminds me of this guy who was in my history class. Which reminds me of making an apple mummy. Which reminds me of the apple chips we had at Pioneer Village. That reminds me of the sheeps wool we go to hold. And reminds me of the white clouds in the blue sky. Which reminds me of the chubby bunny game on youtube. Which reminds me of the feeling of being hungry...


Saturday, August 22, 2009

Photo of the moment

Do you see the faint rainbow? Taken in the city of Toronto.

Friday, August 21, 2009

To my dearest

"keep your friends close and your enemies closer"

Plastic oh so see through.
I can see the imperfections;
Yet you hide it like you have
some sort of substance,
nothing within you.
If we'd open up your body,
No surprise that we would find...

All your lies;
deep inside,
toxic envy, jealousy.
Poisonous, like a snake.
Oh please let me awake;
from this dream that I hate,
'cause I'm scared it's reality,
still embrace you even though I just can't stand,
that we're close friends.

Do you ever wonder,
how it feels to be in my shoes?
No you don't;
I don't expect you,
'Cause you're different,
Not even human.
Can't conceal those things with makeup,
Just another excuse you've made up.

All you hide?
Just don't try,
to be something that you're not.
I can see that you are falling
into that deep hole you've created
for yourself
It's what you get
Life is hell
what do you expect
Yet I hate myself for giving you my hand
'Cause we're close friends


I keep secrets.
And sometimes too many;
because people trust me,
and hope
their secrets don't come out,
of my mouth.
But you have my word.
And I will warn you of her.

Don't tell her your secrets
and keep them to yourself!
She will flaunt your words like money
And sell them to the hungry
vicious, heartless, fools
Who'll take your feelings and rip them apart.

If you hate someone so much
don't give gossip girl a hunch.
She will talk behind your back,
as if she stealing someone's lunch.
If you hate someone so much
why don't you write it in some book,
give them a dirty look...
But to show a plastic face
then start hating when they're out of place
is wrong.

She's obtained some information
something private
something secret
oh its juicy
she can't keep it
cause her lips are sure to break it
Then she tells me;
I feel queasy
She's like a yellow sponge filled squeezie
Does she feel bad?
Does she feel guilt?
She's like a rose that always wilts,
first she blossoms
then she sags because
she's gossiped like a mag
There's nothing to trust
can't even trust herself
Cause the minute that you've turned your back
She'll be gossiping about someone else.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Just Let Go (persuasive essay)

Dear Mom and Dad (but mostly Mom),

I am by no means writing this letter to offend you, threatening to run away, move out of the house, trying to commit suicide, or all the other things that I know you will jump to conclusions about. Don't get me wrong, I love you both very much, but sometimes the way you treat me makes me feel very frustrated inside. And since I find it hard to express myself, I bottle everything up. I don't want to explode and be unreasonable and it is not my intention to hurt your feelings. What makes this even more awkward and ironic is that as I'm typing this letter, both of you are right beside me, talking at the kitchen table (thanks by the way for putting the computer right beside the kitchen, where your eyes can be glued to me all the time). But before I (start sounding rude and rebellious) get straight to my point, I would like to thank both of you. Thank you for bringing me into this world, thank you for giving me all your love and protection.

My loving parents, what I'm trying to say is that (you're strangling me) you don't really understand how I feel. Picture an animal that is too big for its little cage. Imagine a mother bear so overprotective of its cub that it kills an innocent camper in the forest. Picture a young adult bird trying to fly away for the winter, but can't because its mother forbade it to leave the nest. Picture me, a confused and terrified mime, trapped inside an invisible box. This is exactly how I feel.

I want independence. I want more priveleges. I want freedom. I hope to be released from this very tight leash you've placed on me since birth. And no, this does not necessitate moving out of the house to a land far far away.

What I would like is... to actually have fun when hanging out with my friends, without having to answer your bazillion calls, asking, "Are you coming home yet?" One time when I went shopping with my friends, you kept calling me over and over about the sanme demand: "Come home now! It's getting late!" It was only 5:00 p.m.! We had barely been there for two hours and the only thing in my hand was your screaming cell phone. On the way home my head was fixed to one position, the window, so my friends couldn't see the mess on my face. They knew. I was an emotional wreck, a bursting volcano of frustration.

I wish that you could let me out more. Both of you have lived longer and experienced more than I have. Both of you were teenagers once. You've always told me how you'd be at each other's houses until one in the morning. Do you know that I'm the "flopper" in my group of friends? I asked you a while ago if I could go out with my friends after prom, but you said no. Sometimes my friends don't even bother asking me to hang out because they know it's not possible.

What more would you like? Proof? Research? Facts?

One article states that overprotective parenting can lead to problems in adulthood, for instance developing panic disorders, or even extreme effects such as cutting or depression. (I am not there yet).

I don't want to sound demanding but why are you so scared to let me go? I want you to trust me. I want you to know that you have raised me with good morals. I am polite, I get good grades, I go to church, and I don't smoke, drink alcohol or do drugs.

Yes all parents have a hard time letting go. Yes, the world is very chaotic these days, but I am confident that I am responsible enough to go out on my own and return safely without you having to worry SO much.

I am not asking for a lot. I just wish that you would grant me the privellege of independence. There are to many things I want to do in the future, without having to beg for your consent. I want to travel the world, I want to ride a motorcycle, I want to explore a cave, I want to go skydiving...I want to do this and I want to do that.

But for now, I just want you to trust me. Please, untie my leash.

The Graffiti Game

I wasn't aware of the word vandalism in grade one. If I had a piece of fat coloured chalk in my hand, it was all about scribbling on brick walls and smooth pavements near my apartment building. All the kids in my neighborhood did it; the older kids called it the graffiti game. My friends and I drew pictures all over the pavement in the summer; usually the one who drew the most won. It sounds pretty dull now, but at the age of five everything is amusing.

On the first day of school for grade one; I found many pieces of colourful chalk in a small box, on the ledge of the chalkboard. Assuming that it was "free," I took several pieces and handed them out to my two best friends, Gilbert and Lora. We started are game at recess using the clean brick wall at the side of the school. All the kids in the yard, gathered around us to watch us draw our "masterpieces." It was so fun that we quickly ran out of chalk. Of course, I was the only one who knew where the secret stash of chalk was so I decided to get more from the classroom. To my surprise, there was a teacher standing in front of the school door, frowning, her hand pointing towards the wall my friends and I drew on.

"Are you supposed to be drawing on school walls?" she asked sternly. I gulped; my friends and I were caught at the scene of the "crime." I felt my stomach twist in nervousness as she led my friends and I, to the principals office. Things didn't turn out so good after the incident. The teacher, who snitched on my friends and I, was my teacher for the next school year. Oh joy.

All A Part Of Me [c] 2009

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Love is...What?

Love is a red heart that bursts in your cheeks,
Making you appear bright as
A ripe tomato.

Love is spontaneous,

A dodge ball hitting your face,

Your emotions flying in all directions.

Affecting every part of your body:
hands get sweaty, hormones icky, vexatious anxiety
Making you high,
Wings given to fly.
Love is chocolate,
Sweet melting sensation, pleasure filling,

Love is the red shining
through your cheeks,
For everyone to see...
How embarassing.

All A Part Of Me [c] 2009