inocciduous;

I admit, I over think. I over analyze. I take what could be something simple and mess enough with it...

primadana — Mon, 11 Feb 2013 01:36:17 +0800

I admit, I over think. I over analyze. I take what could be something simple and mess enough with it in my convoluted mind so that it ends up being extremely and intricately complicated, to me at least.

Life shouldn’t have to be this complicated. In fact, life is startlingly simple. It is just such a flaw in some people, myself included, that I make things complex enough to be problems when in fact, they are as plain as black and white.

It hurts my heart so much to think that sometimes, the people you love are the cruelest people you will ever meet.

primadana — Sat, 22 Dec 2012 20:05:15 +0800

It's early morning. The sky is still dark with remnants of night, the air cold with a December bite. I see you off towards the side, and my heart soars at that sight. Then I see the girl next to you, and don't need to look lower to see your hands intertwine.

primadana — Sat, 22 Dec 2012 18:17:38 +0800

It hurts my heart.

Not that you’re with her.

Just the fact that we’ve always been strangers and after all this time, I’m still that random girl pining from afar.

It's been a long while.

primadana — Sat, 22 Dec 2012 18:14:51 +0800

Since I’ve last posted in my personal blog.

I’ve already preempted the third year of college being one of the roughest, hardest and most time consuming, so I already started queuing posts on my main blog around once a day, occasionally going on there to do a mass reblog once in a blue moon.

Sadly, that leaves my personal blog and more importantly, my writings neglected.

I’ve actually been quite depressed at how being in a pre-med course manages to suck the creativity out of me from focusing on all things science and medicine. Studying about the effects of certain increases or decreases of protein, glucose and whatnot in the urine to the rest of the body along with the signs, symptoms and treatments can really take a toll on one’s creative process.

But it’s currently Christmas break, and I’ve already decided that my motto for 2013 is “innovative balance”.

It’s time to change, and time to improve; time to study well, learn more and have both my brain and heart flourish.

I won’t ever make the mistake of sacrificing my literary passions for my scientific ones ever again.

I wish it were easy to flip off feelings that were never meant for me, nor meant to be felt by me.

primadana — Fri, 14 Dec 2012 23:24:25 +0800

11:22PM

primadana — Thu, 25 Oct 2012 23:28:15 +0800

The streets are quiet when it nears midnight.

The only sounds I hear are the clicks of the keys on the keyboard and the quiet hum of the fan as it spins on it’s fastest setting.

I look down and see the damage I’ve done.

Ugly.

Painful.

Hurtful.

Words.

All scribbled on my body after reaching for the cutter and failing more than once to produce a single scar. Be it the fear holding me back, or simply knowing better, but I just couldn’t press down hard enough to draw blood.

I couldn’t very well purge as I was wont to; I knew nothing would come up.

And so, I thought of the next best way to release all that I’ve been holding up ever since my father spoke to me earlier that evening.

Labels.

Branding myself with words I deem deserving, all the while thinking of things I didn’t deserve.

Hating myself for stooping so low, hating myself for how things were.

Hate.

How I wish I were someone else. Anyone.

Perfect.

So since I couldn’t cut to let it out, I decided defamation of what I hate most was the next best thing.

You’d think this would make me feel better.

Only now, all I feel is empty. Blank. Numb.

But planning.

Best laid plans to fix what I hate the most, in any way necessary.

Necessary sacrifice, in a sense.

After all, the end will justify the means, eventually.

Even if the means have to be my best kept secret.

lingering.

primadana — Thu, 18 Oct 2012 22:42:00 +0800

People say that feelings fade over time; that with the passage of it, the feelings are eventually pushed away and forgotten.

People forget the true power that feelings have. They underestimate how much strength feelings actually hold upon the human conscience.

Feelings don’t actually fade over time.

They are pushed to the edge of your conscience, muted and quiet. They leave you undisturbed, to the point that in your denial, you actually believe that they are gone.

But they never leave, do they?

They linger.

They are the shadows at the periphery, wisps of emotion that you try to catch in a spin, only to find that they disappear just beyond your fingertips.

They are devious in how much they hide from you, making you believe that such feelings were a figment of your imagination, and couldn’t possibly be there.

What they are really doing is waiting for the right catalyst, the right spark to bring them back full circle into your life.

And when that does occur?

It’s a myriad of emotions that hits you as a train should, catching you in a moment of complete surprise, breath halting, voice stuttering, heart skipping one, two, three beats (each beat for those immortal three words).

It’s a spark that leads to fireworks. Full blown colors in the darkness of the sky, swirling and spinning until everything blends into a world so colored and bright that you can’t help but stare.

It’s the sound of pieces quietly falling into place until that last bit clinks into place and in that moment, you feel it. Its alive and viable underneath your fingertips, warm and burning in your chest, a veritable tornado bursting through your heart.

And in the middle of it all?

Your catalyst. The one person who started it all, and has come to end it so that something else may begin. The one person who makes you realize that feelings never really face.

They just linger.

on waking up.

primadana — Tue, 16 Oct 2012 18:59:12 +0800

Waking up early was a choice.

I could watch the sun rise and streak the sky beautiful while reading a novel, steaming cup of coffee in hand.

I’d write down snatches of words that sailed past before the hurricane of thoughts blew them away.

Then I’d dwell in the stillness of the morning and just, finally, breathe.

Thinking.

primadana — Wed, 19 Sep 2012 00:24:59 +0800

I’ve always wondered if social superstitions were true.

The whole random sneezing, biting your lip, tripping over seemingly nothing; I’ve always thought that if these things occurred, it meant that someone was thinking of you.

I suppose if it were actually true, the entire population would be in constant disarray. And the person I would be thinking about the most would have been more than a little accident prone. He’d live his life with the consistent bups and bruises of no specific cause and he wouldn’t know why.

All because someone out there thought of him constantly.

—-

It’s been a week, exactly one week since I first met him.

I’ve gone past the stage of hysterically shrieking at the very thought of him and have settled into my familiar mood of bipolarity; extreme happiness over the fact that we are acquaintances in every sense of the word that alternates with quiet, dramatic depression over the lack of development from acquaintance to genuine friends.

As my friend FD had told me in an impromptu chat we had, I should just cherish every moment when that moment occurs. Don’t live in expectation of things so that when they do happen, the happiness and sheer unexpectedness of it all will make it worth the imaginary wait.

on scapes and goats.

primadana — Tue, 18 Sep 2012 00:28:37 +0800

A simple comment on a Facebook status can change the entire tone of the conversation.

I’ve noticed it more and more. People have this ridiculous habit of infecting others with the bad, miserable mood they have. The correct term, I suppose, is using another person as a scapegoat.

You’re in a frustrated, annoyed, irritated, generally bad mood. You use another person as an outlet, nitpicking on them with any little ammunition you happen to find.

It’s a horrible truth to the saying misery loves company. A selfish need to have someone else in a bad mood like the one you’re in. It’s like saying, “Why do you get to be so damn happy while I’m miserable here? If I go down, I’m sure as hell doing anything I can to bring you with me. Better you and me both.”

I try not to partake in such a vulgar habit but sometimes, as they usually do, bad habits die really hard.

That being said, it may sound hypocritical but I absolutely loathe the times that I myself am being made into a scapegoat.

It makes me feel disrespected; belittled. It angers me so much that I end up making someone else into a scapegoat of my anger. It’s a never ending, vicious cycle, with humans simply helping it along.

Here’s my take on it.

People are creatures who require companionship. There may be those who act as though the very idea of company turns them off, but in the end, even a lone wolf would eventually give in to the need to form a pack, or at least be a part of it.

It may be said that companionship is a requirement for survival.

So in that case, to take these musings a step further, people require companionship in most circumstances that they find themselves in.

Thus, bringing others up or down to whatever mood they find themselves in to match their circumstances. Even out the playing field.

Such complications. Anthropologists must be having a hell of a time.

August 22nd, Wednesday

primadana — Mon, 17 Sep 2012 00:25:10 +0800

When you meet someone new, there is usually a split second decision made by your brain that you don’t notice until you’ve experienced the aftershock of that decision; you decide whether or not this person is attractive to you, and from then on, you formulate your behavior to match said previous decision.

Admittedly, meeting people and basing your behavior in relation to how attractive they are to you is somewhat pathetic.

Narrow minded, and very shallow.

But you’re only human. Sometimes, you just happen to act like a normal human who craves affection never felt.

You wish to experience to experience such affection, to get your absolute fill of it, to take so much that you would be drowning in it; to be absolutely love drunk.

Sometimes, you think that the most elusive things in this world are the things you want the most. Almost as if it is an unwritten rule of life that if you want something with a certain measure of pure want, it is directly proportional to how hard it will be for you to obtain. So that upon getting it, the feeling is incomparable to any other.

More than anything, you want to feel love.

The kind of love that’s all consuming, soul-searing to the point of epiphany inducing flashes of thought that’s enough to stop the world on its axis.

A love so great that it would shake a person to their very core, that the way life is viewed is changed forever. That kind of pure love that only another person’s half, their true half, could inspire.

You’ve wanted to feel such a type of love for so long that you feel as though your inability to obtain it is because the person that you are today isn’t good enough, undeserving, in a sense.

You feel a constant need to remold yourself into what you feel fits the status quo of getting such a love. To have everything perfectly aligned and in place, to be a part of this norm that dictates attraction and infatuation. At time, you can’t get everything to fit and you feel a tragic foreboding that maybe it isn’t meant to be.

Maybe some people are just meant to feel a certain amount of feelings. Maybe you are not meant to always get what you really want.

And maybe, you’re just maudlin over being another card holding member of the Lonely Hearts Club; No Boyfriend Since Birth.

August 8th, A Wednesday

primadana — Sun, 16 Sep 2012 00:29:11 +0800

I saw you today, Cas.

I won’t deny that old habits die very hard and that I was looking for any sign of your presence earlier when I had initially arrived, before my first class of the day.

My earlier search amounted only to a vague feeling of disappointment because really, I am getting better at this process of letting go.

Letting go of the unrealistic fool’s hope that you could ever feel the same way is cathartic at times and pathetically sad at others.

But as I have reminded myself constantly, it is what needs to be done. Facing reality has helped put things in a better perspective.

And I am no longer searching for you as fervently as I would have before, nor is the disappointment as painful as it used to be; it’s something akin to fading pain. Some day, I will barely notice its presence or lack of it.

This is letting go. Finally.

"Is it impossible for boys and girls to be just friends?"

primadana — Sat, 15 Sep 2012 19:26:41 +0800

In my case, that could be my impossible dream. I hope it isn’t but I don’t have the best of track records regarding my affections towards guys. I guess I manage to develop a slight crush on the guys I am friends with at least once.

It’s a sad, pathetic habit of mine which I am constantly trying to eradicate.

Extra emphasis on the word “trying”.

It feels rather foolish and more than a little pathetic to be harboring crushes on guys over the smallest thing.

It’s desperation.

I hate myself whenever I succumb to such a toxic habit. I feel as though I am chasing after love in a time that dictates that I am not yet ready for it.

So for now, yes, it is impossible for boys and girls to be just friends.

For me, at least.

Edmonton Sherlockian Summer Meet Up

primadana — Fri, 25 May 2012 10:35:54 +0800

Edmonton Sherlockian Summer Meet Up:

missingmymind:

You know you waaaaant to! Being held July 7th, at some park…. somewhere in the city, suggestions are awesome!

In case you wanted to go, dear friend, as you DO live in the area.

But, you know, at least you aren't being all stalker-like and stuff even in the midst of your feelings. That, BiP, is a very strong thing to resist. You are brave, and you have the inner strength to stay sane even when your head is whirling around in all these feels for all these people. That's what's good about you, and no, you aren't sad or pathetic. We just have the tendency to yearn for something that we so badly want to experience but we haven't had yet. It'll come, don't fret! :) /smooch/

Mon, 21 May 2012 20:17:07 +0800

I love you, all the way from PHL.

Darlingggg. It didn't show up in my tag because Tumblr is a bitch, so I decided to hop over to your Tumblr. :( Well, all I can say is that you're pretty sensitive to that partly because you haven't had a relationship like that and also because you really, really, REALLY want to try being in one. You're a true romantic, in every sense of the word. You know what you want in a relationship and you can see it happening. But it's all right! It might feel scary at times, though, I can tell. /hugs/

Mon, 21 May 2012 20:16:43 +0800

I've never had a relationship in all the years of my live thus far, yet I do have a lot of wonderful guy friends in my life. But I often find myself at a rather ridiculous and pathetic instance wherein I feel as though I have a crush on them due to their actions which are, in retrospect, completely friendly.

primadana — Sun, 20 May 2012 16:18:35 +0800

So, I have problems.

Does this make me extremely sad or just pathetic?

Maybe both?

A yearning for a relationship so badly that I perceive even the most friendly actions as more than they are, over-thinking them and reading into them to the point of exaggerated infatuation that probably isn’t even real, perhaps?

I really have problems.

Dendenmushii, I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.

Score of the opening credits of “Game of...

primadana — Thu, 03 May 2012 20:08:41 +0800

Score of the opening credits of “Game of Thrones”.

The violins have so much strength, it gave me the good kind of shivers. The drums were amazing as well.

It’s a beautiful score; a right amount of adventure and thrill for such an amazing series. I especially like how it abruptly goes soft at the end.

It never fails to impress each time I watch a new episode.

Are you going to "The Beatles: The Lost Concert" movie premier in a few weeks?

Thu, 03 May 2012 20:01:47 +0800

I don’t think they’ll be coming to where I live.

deaf. dumb. blind.

primadana — Wed, 02 May 2012 18:13:41 +0800

I’m often accused of being deaf by my mother.

It occurs when I listen to music on my cell phone with both buds of the earphone stuck in. The music all too often drowns out everything else; the sound of classic oldies music playing in the car, the noisy background of cars and people on the jeepney during a commute, multiple conversations around me in whatever place I choose to reside in, and inevitably, questions my parents may ask me if the occasion calls for it.

I’ve tried to curb this habit of mine, especially when it causes friction between me and my parents. I’ve been threatened to have my cell phone thrown away, that I would eventually go deaf from all the music I’m listening to.

While I do listen to music as it is one of few pleasures I luxuriate in, if not for the appreciation of it, I often use it as a way to just get away from everything.

It’s my safe, comforting wall that separates me from the world around me.

I don’t have to think the thoughts constantly vying for my attention, I don’t have to think about my feelings over so many things that just make me feel worn out and sad. It may be escapism, but it’s helping me cope, in a way.

Deal with things without actually dealing with them because they’re out of my control.

Rather than idly stand by and uselessly watch things fall apart, disintegrate before me because I have no power to change or do anything about it, I’d rather just not think about it.

This may not be healthy but it’s helping, a lot.

Between facing problems that I can’t solve with circumstances that I can’t change, I’d rather be deaf, dumb, and blind to it all.

Some call it being selfish; I call it getting by.