boredom strikes

Sometimes boredom gives you the opportunity to do things you don't normally do.

Monday blues. And I'm sick.

I sat quietly on our Acctg4a class this morning feeling bored and tired to do anything. My voice is hoarse so the option to chat with my seatmate is clearly not a goos thing. Boredom kills, yeah, that's what normal people would say, so i grabbed a sheet of paper, my trusty old pen and began scribbling down doodles and phrases that come at random. Nothing significant really, just pure blankathons.

"how can I put this so that you'll believe me? You're not asleep, and you're not dead. I'm here, and I love you. I have always loved you and I will always love you. I was thinking of you seeing your face in my mind, every second that I was away..."

-Edward-
[from New Moon by Stephanie Meyer]

"... each person's lie is like a mountain. And every person has to climb that mountain alone. To begin with, you start in the valley, and it's warm and sunny, and there are lots of meadows and little streams, and buttercups and things. That'd when you're a child. And then you start to climb. Slowly, the mountain becomes a little steeper and the going isn't easy, but if you stop every now and t hen and look about you, then the wonderful views are worth every bit of effort. Ans the very top of the mountain, the peak, where the sn0w, and the ice glitter in the sunshine and it is all beautiful beyond belief, why, that is the summit, the great achievement, the end of the long journey."

-Rosamunde Pilcher, 'Toby"-

the english report

today i will report the value of consideration and concreteness in our English20 class. Unfortunate on my part because i haven't read the report yet and super nervous because i haven't prepared my visual aid yet.

i literary grabbed the manila paper from the canteen girl [yes, our canteen also sells miscellaneous school supplies] and rushed to the library to prepare the visual aid. a thing i don't normally do except on desperate circumstances. good thing maria was there who gladly-i think, especially on my part- took the marker and scribbled down the subtopics covered by my report. i released a sigh of relief after she finished.

lesson learned: never procrastinate. even if it means putting down a novel about to begin its climax for a petty English report. trust me. it saves you from nervous breakdowns.

random

The drive to write has encouraged me to update this blog every single day. aside from that, i have realized the good sides of blogging. It's not just about blah-blah-blah's, it's the idea that maybe, somewhere in the jungles of the Amazon or in the oasis of the Sahara, someone actually cared to read a little fragment of me every single day. I don't give a damn about having many followers, all i care about is that my thoughts are here. Ready to be read. Ready to spill, definitely not nuggets of wisdom but simple realizations a 17-year old encounters everyday.

I ended this article with this in my head. Enough to keep my brain working for my ECO2 class.

piece of cake

Have a bite of life.

the untitled story of someone unknown

She has been the apple of my eye since i started middle school. I couldn’t really say that i like or adore her- or something but there’s this thing that i couldn’t help but admire every time i see her.

Infatuation? Nah….

Admiration? More likely…

i don’t know her that much (except for her name), although we’re studying under the same roof, we’re sitting beside each other, and we usually talk-you know, school stuff. There was this sort of barrier between us. I don’t dislike her and she doesn’t dislike me either. Maybe that’s the barrier…we don’t dislike each other much, but we do talk-sometimes- at least.

Yes, we talk.

It was a sunny Monday (or was it Tuesday?). Our teacher instructed us to group ourselves into three for a miniature boat-building activity. The room shook as my classmates rushed and hold on to each other in threes. Coincidentally, she and I were the last ones left (we are 35 in our class). Because there are only 11 sets of materials (another coincidence-yeah right!), our teacher gave both of us a special job, to monitor our classmates while they construct their boats.

“Make sure they don’t copy each other’s boat designs,”our teacher firmly said,”I’m warning you, you are in charge. If there are copied designs…”, Miss Narumi stressed not finishing the last phrase so as to emphasize our poor fate.

And so, the poor little babies were left in the caring hands of me and her. For some unknown reason i felt kinda happy. Well i shouldn’t really be. Could it be because I’m with her?

Of course not!

i told myself that i was happy because I’m exempted from the activity. Heheheh. A devilish smile lightened my face.

“Why are you smiling?”she asked me and my sinister thoughts vanished into thin air. Her inquiring eyes perplexed me.

“Nothing”, I lied.

Then there was silence. The oh-so-familiar silence.

“I’m just happy that i’m exempted from the activity”, I added a few minutes later.

“Though…”, she couldn’t finish. She was obviously nervous about what might happen if we fail to meet Miss Narumi’s expectations.

I held her hand. She’s so fragile.

…..

“It’s gonna be okay”, I told her. For the first time in my life I felt an invisible connection towards someone. Her simple gestures: the way she brushes her bans away from her face; the way her mouth moves when she speaks;and the way her soulful eyes look at you when she speaks; all contribute to this Cloud 9 feeling I’m having.

We continued talking and then we stopped. We realized that we haven’t monitored our classmates. We laughed. Her eyes sparkled.

From that moment i realized that she’s someone special. She’s not the ordinary apple of my eye anymore. It’s like she’s someone i haven’t seen before.

She looks different now.

…..

it feels different now. It feels even better.

…..

☻☻☻

ACTIVITY 1-What is your goal?*

Goals define a person. These are the yardsticks upon which we can measure the success of a person-through the achievement of these goals.

My goal is simple. To become immortal. Not physically because that's obviously impossible, but in the very least, intellectually. I want to be as known as Edgar Allan Poe or Aristotle or Emily Dickinson or Jose Rizal. I want to have immortality through the works, the articles, that i will create. I want these literary pieces to live longer than my own life. These works are my shattered pieces. These things embody my whole identity. Every piece I create is a confession of my deepest thoughts.

To achieve this goal, i must first finish my degree and pass the Board Exams perhaps because I need a stable foundation to venture into this dream. After all these things, I shall then enroll at a university-somewhere and finally begin traveling the road to immortality.

*I wrote this this morning for our RS class. Not a good work though, but I admire my honesty in this piece.

People are people.

All are crazy,

and in love.

the state of nothingness-i call it blank(or vacuum) is that right?

so here i am again staring at a screen trying to write anything that i can write.
i don't know why i'm doing this actually but i guess i simply had the urge to talk about something i don't know what.

hmm

have you ever had this feeling before? you know, when you want to write stuff but you don't know what you will write about?

it's weird actually. very weird. because now i finally am inspired to do something, however, it isn't inspired to do me. hahaha. that was green. i mean, inspiration won't hit me. motivation is an important force when you're a writer, but without the inspiration-i don't know if this happens to everybody-but without inspiration, i feel like my write up lacks life. it's something that i just feel though. i couldn't bear asking people what they think about whatever i have written. it isn't that good. it is BAD.

anyway, i now know that i need inspiration. what will i do then to raise these carcasses? okaaaay. i feel like an ancient roman tomb.

where will i get inspiration?

blank.

i hope i see it when i should see it.

[this article is subject to grammatical errors. kindly correct my grammar and forgive my inability to check whatever i have written-i know, i'm sluggish.]

yours truly,
rEi

or Eimon

or reimond

or almos perf

or the crazy dude who wrote this piece.