#TBT: Don’t Judge Me.

I have to leave for Arizona in about an hour and a half. I haven’t slept for 36 hours, I haven’t packed, and my wonderful neighbors are blasting their music and yelling like it’s nobody’s business. Thank you neighbors for keeping me up, hence forcing me into this lulling state of thinking; and thank you non-emergency police hotline for making me hold on the phone for an hour to file a futile noise complaint. It is 4AM. When you read this, this will probably be a poorly organized and pointless text that, in all honestly, is just a reflection of all my jumbled thoughts at this ungodly hour. But I really don’t care. i’ve reduced to use this website as a means of senseless venting, not as a result of apathetic friends but as a result of laziness to text them and the immense lack of direction to these notions. But Happy New Year! And should you continue to read further, let the directionless rambling begin!

On my life before the United States:

I think that this is worth discussing, particularly since I believe I’ve grown to be a lot more vocal about my life throughout high school. I would say that high school was a victory for me, but perhaps not exactly for the reason you think. My victory is not rooted in getting everything I’ve ever wanted because half of my accomplishments in high school were nowhere in my hopes and dreams as a child. My victory, rather, is rooted in proving people - myself included - wrong. And to fully understand this, you must understand my life prior to it. 

I was uprooted from my life in Australia at the tender age of eight to live in the Philippines. My parents said that this came to be as a result of the poor educational system in New South Wales and my personal refusal to identify as a Filipino. While a lot of this makes sense to me now, it really didn’t back then. As an only child, a lot of my childhood experiences come from my friends and with eight years of solitude at home, losing anyone from my life was a nightmare. 

While living in the Philippines really didn’t turn out that bad, I’ve admittedly encountered a lot of adversity throughout my stay there. A lot of this adversity, I believe, comes from cultural difference. I received a lot of judgement, particularly from relatives with whom I eventually had to stay when my parents left me to work both in the United States and in Australia, separately. A lot of what I heard at “home” in the Philippines were along the lines of “Why don’t you learn how to speak Filipino?”, “You can’t relate to your cousins because you’re too privileged”, “You always watch Western film and television. No wonder your parents are so disappointed in you!” “What kind of grades are these! Look at <insert Cousin’s name here> doing <insert awesome job thing here> ! You’ll never be like that!” Basically, a lot of the people I lived with made it out to seem that I do nothing but bring dishonor to my family (yes, Mulan allusion intended) and that I would never be welcomed into theirs. The saddest part about all of this is that I actually believed them. As I grew older, I never saw myself as worth much. I never tried much. I never wanted to be much. I felt as though I were in a dead end and that I were predestined to be just there - existing without anything much to live for but disappointing my family. I accepted being called a spoiled brat who had nothing going on in her life except her impeccable English, and that one day perhaps some nice man would come along and marry me and that would be the end of it. 

The environment at school wasn’t as bad as the environment at home, but I can’t say I immediately felt secure there either. Being surrounded by such intelligent and talented people only furthered my self doubt and only made me believe more that I had nothing going on for me. Only towards the end did I eventually find my niche, and by that time it was time for me to move once more. 

Having my self esteem beaten up for a lot of my developmental childhood years was terrible, but having to move again sounded even more dreadful. There I was about to finally be okay, and here came my parents swooping in to uproot me again. Moving to the United States was difficult for me emotionally because once again I was about to be alone on some strange land living with my mother who, at this point, had become a complete stranger to me. This woman hadn’t seen me since I was nine and I was reentering her roof at fourteen. She was never really one to be vocal about me to me, so I never really was sure whether or not I ever made her or my father proud ever at that point. A lot of the time I felt like the only reason she and my father kept me was because it was their moral obligation to do so, and that if they had an out - an exit on this hell of a high way - they would take it in a heartbeat. Now that I’m older I have come to understand that this is not necessarily the case, and that our relationship as a family is simply atypical, not by choice or by nature but due to distance and circumstance.

Lucky for me though, the high school I attended was welcoming and upon my first day I felt like it was the opportune moment for me to grow. It was as though I had been forgiven for all my short comings as a daughter, as a student, and as a person. So the moment I stepped off of campus after Welcome Freshman Day, I promised myself that I would take this time to rebuild myself and prove everyone who ever doubted me wrong. In this time I have made a lot of good friends, discovered quite a few talents, and in all honesty I have blossomed to become a person I never thought I could be. I guess this is why I can never actually really relate to people in college who say they hated high school, or even kids from my high school who say they hate it. Sure, it may have been odd at times, but there I found who I wanted to be for the rest of my life and more importantly, there I learned to forgive and believe in myself. It took me four years to do so, and thank God and all the gods if any that I finally made it here.

College awaits and I’m so excited for whatever UC Berkeley, as well as my scholarship community, has in store for me. But for now, I beg that you do not judge me for looking fondly upon high school, for it is the only thing closest to a home I’ve ever had in my life.

amoying:

puppies in sweaters hee hee hee

puppy in sweater hoo hoo hoo

puppies in sweaters ha ha ha

Time Travel.

Will you do me a favor

And take me a year back?

Because more often than usual

Am I finding myself dust off

The ashes atop your coffin.

Infinitives

So often do I find myself hopelessly looking for someone

To blame, to hate

For all that has gone wrong and for all that has not gone my way.

But in every person I find the courage

To forgive, to exonerate

For all that they have done and for all that the hurtful words they say.

And sometimes I think it may quite possibly be a curse

To be, to feel

So inclined to perpetuate a sense of peace amongst my relations.

Because a lot of times I feel that as a result I am impossible

To make sense of, to love

Atop all my insecurities and contradictions.

But I beg you to hold your pity when you see that I am drastically unable

To give, to take

What is commonly known as love

For I am desperately

Trying

To convince my late hopeless romantic that

I will find peace

By myself, for myself

Eventually. 

To You:

Allow me to use this space as twitter’s measly 140 characters will not cut it for the series of messages I would like to get across. 

• To you: I finally have the courage to let you read, to let you see, to let you understand. So go ahead and read on. I hope you don’t ever regret your wish. 
• To you: I’ve come to the conclusion that I will never understand what I’ve done to you to deserve such distaste. And it saddens me because I never actually wished you illy, ever, and so it kind of hurts. But I shall let it be, as you wish. 
• To you: Sometimes I hate the night time. I can have the best day ever and the night time only rolls around the corner to bring my best day to an end. And I hate the night time because much like you, it will only keep returning, and it will remind me of the time when I laid my back against the grass and looked up at the night sky, admiring something as bright and as beautiful as the stars, only to realize now that those bright and beautiful celestial bodies burn and destroy and die. So yeah, I fucking hate the night time. 
• To you: I am thankful for clarity and progress.
• To you: I’m kind of cursed so don’t get any closer. For your sake. For my sake. 
• To you: I’m scarred and scared. 
• To you: Thanks. Really. Thanks. 
• To me: You’re totally building walls again. But I guess this time, I won’t stop you. 

- fin - 

mayorpenut:

the-absolute-best-posts:

little-miss-disney:

When pixar does the thing that makes you question if you are actually watching a children’s movie.

when pixar does the thing where they make an adult film and call it a childrens movie

liquidcassidy:

agoddamnlemonwhore:

forever-a-trenchcoat:

actuallybatman:

iphone420:

How does it make you feel to know your left hand has never touched your left elbow and your right hand has never touched your right elbow

even though i know it wont work, i’m now sitting here trying to touch my elbows and i look like this

#suddenly im a velociraptor

And in that moment I swear we were all dinosaurs.

I’m really upset by this.