Hope in another universe.

Slowly but surely, I find myself floating back to the surface. I never believed my family when they linked my "crankiness" with my really, really messed up body clock. But now that I'm working from nine to six, I actually feel better. I get to sleep between 8 PM (without internet) and midnight (with internet). I finally get to have eight hours of sleep! The bitch in me stayed though.

I changed my Blogger URL yet again. Someone else has been using my former URL for her social media accounts so I don't want to confuse the search engines (looking at you, stalkers). This new one is the same name that I use in Tumblr. I'm still not sure if I want people to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of words that I've scattered all over the internet. Good lord.

Strong, independent woman.

Here in the Philippines, a girl becomes a woman when she turns 18. Traditionally, during a debut party, the parents will present their daughter to be eligible for marriage to the public. Nowadays, the party is just guests wear suits and cocktails dresses, godparents give 18 years worth of presents, and friends try not to spill secrets in front of the girl woman's parents. But my friends and I didn't have any of that. We didn't like any of those extravagance. We're non-traditional and practical. Given that we have our friends and families 300 miles apart, it's a headache to choose where to celebrate. We became adults in our own quiet ways.

I just a booked my flight home yesterday. with. my. own. money. I've been living on my own since April: paying my own rent, buying my own food, and even sending my parents money when they wanted to "fix" our supposedly dirty kitchen.

I'm really trying to save money to buy myself a secondhand non-kit lens but this new sense of financial freedom to eat whatever I want is really getting in the way. I'll be broke once I buy the lens but I'll be telling people that I "need to exercise".

My makeup kit was finally returned last week so I spent last night searching for the right foundation and lipstick online. I'm really babyfaced even in Southeast Asian standards that I'm scared of looking like a child trying hard to be an adult. I actually hate going to bars because of this.

Oh, I just remembered that I need to buy a navy blue dress for a report this Thursday (or is it Wednesday?). I actually hate shopping. I always feel like the dresses aren't good enough, or that they're out style, or perhaps everyone just dress the same.

In the next couple of months, I'll be working on a blog about living on my own. I haven't decided yet if it's going to be personal or a collaboration with my friends. It will be presented as a lifestyle blog, satirically. I don't plan on writing much because it will be avenue to work on my photography skillz, and my WP-theme-coding skillz as well.

But before all of that, I will have to stop this procrastination. I have a lot of schoolwork and officework to do.

I feel so adult and independent. It's fucking scary.

Mountains and seas.

To sync with universities in other countries, our university's "summer" vacation is no longer set during the equatorial summer. Luckily, we had a class trip to the mountains which involved a lot of hiking, spelunking and river dipping. I also got to enjoy the beach at the very end of summer which was the last days of the second semester. A trip with my family didn't go well though. The weather forced us to spend most of the weekend indoors. We've been to the island a handful of times so I guess it was just fine.

I'm sick and tired of my university. Remind me to graduate in two weeks.

Pictures are not in order.

Iloilo

Puerto Galera

Boracay

Banahaw

Banahaw

An attempt.

I spent the past hour writing a post which I immediately reverted to draft after publishing. I talked about naming my month-old secondhand camera and that's about it. It was too informal compared to my other post in this blog, akin to wearing casual clothes to a job interview. I try to give this blog a lighter mood but I have separated my personas so much that I don't know how.

Astrophotography, an attempt.

Disconnection.

I write when I'm sad and I have the time. As you can see (or rather, not see), I just don't have the time to be sad. Everything moves so fast, I had to keep up. It finally came to a point that I have to give up and go easy on myself. So what ought to be just a five-day vacation was extended by another week. I dropped a class. I quit my extra-curricular activities. I extended my leave at my actual work, which is a big risk that I'm willing to take given my current state. And for the first time ever, I deactivated my Facebook.

Just last Saturday, at a drinking session, I woke up to a sorority sister recounting how I was the one who encouraged her to hold on during the remolding process four years ago. And how I wish that I'm as strong as my words are. That my life was as pretty and interesting as my social media posts. That I'm as happy-go-lucky and loud as I seem. Because now I feel bad that whenever someone confides in me thoughts of giving up and taking a break, I can no longer encourage them to face life's challenges. Because I've given up on life myself.

I write the things that I can't tell anyone. Even then, they remain drafts, notes, or private posts. I'm still anxious to share it for even strangers to read. It's about time for people to know that I'm not the person they think I am. I need to break out of my shell.

Loss.

2014 was the year of loss. Of chances not taken. Of words unsaid. It was the year I did not graduate. The year I did not start working. The year that I lost hope, motivation.

2014 was the year of loving you. Of going on dates. Of saying words that I didn't mean. It was the year the spark started, and the same year that it did not work out. The year that I lost love, friendship.

But 2015 will be better.

I will spare my friends from confusion, of loving you and of making the "right" choice. I will no longer speak about you in any form: conversations, private messages, tweets, blog posts. I will no longer check if you are online.

The starry sky will no longer remind me of the night we broke up.

I will move on and everything will get better.

Your lips are no longer the last ones I kissed.

Butterfly effect.

I told myself to keep this space away from any emotional wreck that I may experience at the moment. Just as the wind is howling and the rain is pouring outside, my mind is all over the place. I heard that a typhoon is approaching. When the days are long and scorching, you'll yearn for the day when the clouds will cover the sky. I felt quite happy, too happy, but I know that this day will come.

He's the cloudy day that everybody likes. Perhaps one of the days that I adore the most: steady, chill, just right. He's the cool air that calms the mind. No sweat; no drama. But I'm the sunny day that stresses everyone if I stay with them for long. Happy-go-lucky. I'm the hot air that, when mixed with cold, turns to a wrecking column of confusion and leaves you shortly afterwards. How we came together may either be a culmination of past relationships and decisions, or a mere randomness of time and place. Is this the end, or is this our end?