[Personal Post]

I honestly cannot count how many times I have thought of myself dead.
I honestly cannot think of anymore things to keep me alive.
I honestly would kill myself if I could.
I honestly want to just give up.

Killing myself is the easiest way out as of now.
Everything is a big blur.
I can't go on anymore.
But my family is there and basically that is the only thing that keeps me going.
I have no friends, not anymore.
Today, I realized how replaceable I am.

I just can't stop thinking about death.
I'm not afraid of death itself, but I am afraid that I might miss a lot on life.
I mean my life is fucked up as it is.
But who knows everything might get better.

Today, I got pulled by the arm.
It hurts.

Today, I got screamed at by one of my bestfriends.
I, honestly, deserve it.
I fucked up, everything is just seriously fucked up.
I don't know how long I can go on.
My hand is slipping and I am about to fall.

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There are actually people who go to my blog?

Okay, so for the first time ever, I checked my stats.
It turns out people are looking at my blog!
I apologize profusely for the very personal posts.
But this is just so exciting!

Anyways, if you have any thoughts or things, you'd like to share, feel free to comment!

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I've been watching independent films for a really long time now, and lately I've been addicted to a subsection of indie films. Violent films. Not exactly violent.

We Need To Talk About Kevin
This movie did not only feature one of my favorite actor, he acted superbly as well.
The ending was awesome, and everything just kind of fit together.
I fell in love with the movie, the first time I watched it.

O
O, made me cry. 
I'm going to read Othello soon, since it was based on that book.
It was a really nice movie.
By the end, I was pissed and ready was ready to rage.

Lol, I have more movies to tell you guys, but I'm pretty drained, so... See you all soon.

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Philippines: Lost in Corruption and Poverty

Bakit kayo nag mamakamangmang sa mga bobong politiko?
Kaya iniimbistigahan ng Sandiganbayan ang mga kurakot na yun ay dahil ang publiko ay pinapanood sila.
It would be the 'moral' thing to do.

Yes, DJ Mo might have stepped off the line a little bit, pero to show off your lavish lifestyle in the midst of the astounding poverty in the Philippines, is stupid and insensitive.
This is why I absolutely hate politics, it enrages me.
Taxes are supposed to be given to the poor, not to make the rich richer.

I guarantee you, when the public turns their heads to another political problem, the politicians will be back in their positions.
Kaya lang naman binabantayan sila ngayon ay dahil pinapanood sila ng publiko.
Nagpapakatanga tayo sa mga hampas-lupang magnanakaw na yan. 

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[Personal Post]

I want to cry, but I seem to have lost my tears.
I don't think I can take one more day.
I keep pushing myself, but I just can't.
My heart is slowly starting to die.

I'm afraid, you see.
If I wasn't I would have killed myself already.
I can't take anymore of this.

I don't understand why I'm so different.
I ask God why I am like this.
My classmates are normal and they have stable emotions.
While I don't.
I'm not asking for much, I just want to be like everyone else.

I have a theory.
Those who are pretty and/or thin get everything.
But, those who are ugly and/or fat get nothing.
I'm both ugly and fat so what does that make me.
Don't try telling me otherwise, just to make yourself feel better.
I tried telling myself how pretty and important I am.
You guys proved me wrong.
I actually have you guys to thank for that.

I'm so sick and tired of being tormented in my personal hell.
I'm fighting, but I can't take it anymore.

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Why am I Alone?

I sit in class without anyone to talk to.
I sit in front, surrounded by people, yet I still feel so alone.
I sit in class, and I want to scream my head off.
 
During lunch time, I sit with my friends.
They don't eat, and it makes me kind of sick to be the only one eating.

I see the guy I like...
I remind myself again and again, how it is just an infatuation.
His friends laugh at me.

I see my teachers.
I smile and pretend I'm okay.

I talk to my friends.
Hollow conversations and blank looks are all I get.
I want to scream.

Class ends, everyone walks off with their friends.
I walk by myself.
Thinking of the book I'm about to read.
Contemplating which playlist I should play.
I walk aimlessly.
A few minutes later, I end up at the library.
I sit at an empty seat, open my book, and plug my earphones in.

Why am I alone? I ask myself.

Two hours later, the car arrives.
I sleep all the way home.
I get a text from my dad, he's amazing.
I get home and I see my mom, she's amazing.
I give her a kiss on the cheek and walk towards my room.

Here I find solace.
My haven.
Where I can cry and cut, but still I am alone.

Why am I alone? I ask myself. 

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Broken Strings

I grab the guitar slowly, as not to damage it.

The moment the guitar settles on my thighs, I hear myself exhale.

The feeling of pure contentment.

I smile and place my fingers on the chords.

I strum gently at first, but quicker as the song approaches the chorus.

One chord after another, and as the song nears to the end, I exhale again a little louder this time.

The feeling of pure jubilation. 

 

Suddenly, he comes in.

He opens the door loudly, I squirm.

He roars, "Little asshole, are you playing that fucking guitar again?! What the fuck is wrong with you, playing the guitar with no strings! Fucking crazy!"

His words burn and I arch my head down, so he doesn't see the tears fall. 

He pulls my hair and screams, "Look at me when I'm fucking talking to you. Are you fucking crying?!"

"No... I'm not." I wipe my tears.

He takes the guitar from my hands and smashes the body. I see the head of the guitar decapitated from its body.

"You little useless asshole. I was better off when you weren't here. I wish you were never born."

I run my fingers to the scar right on my arm.

He blared, "Your mother isn't here anymore, you little bitch."

His fusing mad, I see his pupils dilate; that was the last thing I saw.

I was missing from school, but they didn't know until a week after.

The police didn't question him, till two weeks after.

He told them I was out that night with a couple of friends, and I never came back.

He says he assumed I'd be back in a few days. He turns on his alligator tears, and paced nervously when they left.

One month after, my body was found in a nearby lake by a dog, he must've found the foul smell.

My face was pale, my lips were blue, my throat was torn from inside out, my fingernails contained no color, and in my back pocket was a bloody guitar head with one string.

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