My uncle got kicked out of the house today ‘cause, apparently, he had cheated on my aunt. Twice.

I’m not surprised. I got a text message on my phone once that said, “09********* - dto k na lng mgpasa ng load mahal (Send prepaid load here, love)” after he used my phone once, and it wasn’t from my aunt. And as soon as I saw RedPorn and PornTube on my browsers (Chrome, Firefox, AND IE), I knew it was him cause I don’t even know those sites existed. If I wanted to look at porn, I’d use incognito windows, at least.

I came home early enough to see it happen. My granny told me that she’d kick him out earlier, but she didn’t tell me that she’d do it today. His car was parked outside the house, and he wasn’t usually home this early so I thought he was trying to save his marriage by spending time home. When I went inside, my gran was talking to an unfamiliar woman (who later turned out to be my grandmother-in-law), and my aunt and uncle was nowhere to be found. I thought that they were talking upstairs, so I went ahead and ate.

While I was finishing my meal, my uncle came down with a duffel bag, and I pretty much got that he was leaving. He sat down in living room near my grandmothers and I knew they were going to talk. I didn’t want to hear (or be part of) it, so I ducked into the kitchen to finish my meal. After I washed my plate, I grabbed a drink from the fridge and saw my aunt walk past the kitchen door. I was about to leave the kitchen when my grandma-in-law came in, apologized, and cried on my shoulder.

Up until that point, I was feeling completely normal. My mind was pretty hollowed out and I couldn’t really feel anything about the whole situation. But when I felt that woman’s tears on my shoulder, my eyes started burning up. She was apologizing, explaining, and my aunt was right beside us, trying to comfort her. I just rubbed her back until she pulled away, wiped my shirt, and collapsed against the wall beside us. I left my aunt to comfort her and grabbed my bags outside the kitchen, then I went up.

I locked my room, put my bags down, and cried on the bed.

I’ve always hated my uncle; I don’t lie about that- except maybe to my family and church friends. I always knew there was something weird about him, something unlikable, so I thought I’d be delighted when he gets kicked out. No more dumbasses who surf for boobs on my net and does booty calls on my phone, I thought. Then, you know, I started crying. It was weird. Didn’t want to cry, didn’t know why I cried, and didn’t want to stop.

I don’t feel bad for myself; the only thing I’m going to lose here is a free ride home when it’s late at night. I don’t feel that bad for my aunt or grandmother; they’re strong, intelligent, and fierce women who’ve survived worse things. I feel bad for my cousin, who’s four years old, probably “slow”, and was watching Pucca while cheerfully greeting his dad “Bye dad!” for, probably, the last time. It was sick. I knew that it wasn’t the whole reason why I cried though.

My cell phone was in my hand, and I didn’t know who to call. I wanted to let this out desperately- wanted to get this out of my system so I can do my homework and papers. And yes, it did make me cry more when I’ve realized that I’ve got no one to call. I knew there were people who have told me that I can tell them anything, but I didn’t want to bother them with my own drama. I’ve constantly bugged them about things concerning me, me, and only me on a daily basis, and I didn’t want to add to that.

Then I remembered my mother and my biological dad, and as a Freudian excuse, I’ve reasoned out that, “Had I been old enough at that time to know that this was going on between them, this would have probably been my reaction too.”

My bag was back on my shoulders by then and I was ready to get started on my work when I felt my cell phone vibrate. I sent a message earlier when I decided not to call people. The message told me to think positive. I started to laugh. I started to laugh so hard that I fell back onto bed. I laughed hysterically, then cried, then laughed, and then I just started to laugh and cry at the same time; “I don’t know if I should laugh, or cry,” I said. Madness was the only way to happiness.

I just washed my cousin’s hands. Grandmother called from downstairs and told me to do so because her hands were sticky, and my aunt was in the loo. We’re acting normal, as if nothing had happened. And maybe nothing has happened. Nothing changed because nothing ever really changes.

I don’t know why I cried, and I don’t know why I care, and I pretend that it’s going to be alright because if I don’t, I’m not going to be able to get out of bed.

Anyway, since people are still posting stuff about the Manila concert, I’m going to post these things that I found on the May 15 and 16 edition of a local tabloid. Umm, I really hope you like them, because they are a pain in the ass to translate. XD

For once, I don't feel THAT depressed. Weird eh? Must be all those endomorphins from exercise. Well, anyway...

You're probably wondering what the hell am I talking about, right? You see, a Summer Kit (as I define it) is a bag/container/room/whatever that contains all of the things that are directly connected to or is exactly what you want to do/see/watch/read/etc. this summer. Pretty simple eh?

So what I want you guys to do is to list down what's in your own Summer Kit in your respective blogs. Who knows? You might realize something that you want to do this season that you haven't thought of yet.

Rie's Summer Kit! 8D:

1. Crotchet needle and threads- I plan on continuing the scarf I've been making since last year. I got delayed, so I want to make up for lost time. Also, I want to make lots of handcrafted things so I can either sell them or give them to friends.

2. The Picture of Dorian Grey- Not only is it a product from the mind of the brilliant Oscar Wilde, but it is an exercise in vanity and reality. It's an extremely great read, which is why I regret to adress the fact that I have not finished it yet. 'Cause, you know, I thought I lost it. Hehe?

3. Arc the Lad 3 (and maybe the rest of the trilogy)- Today, I got the urge to revisit my second most favorite RPG in the PS era. The CD, surprisingly enough, still works after all those hours of wear and tear. The game still delivers the same zest and charm that it radiated so long ago, and it gives this fat little geek a refreshing break from the PS2 era games. I'll definitely finish this thing once and for all this time ('cause my original save was in this memory card that doesn't work anymore, and I was in the second disk, so... *sniff*).

4. Persona 4- I'm on my second playthrough of Persona 4 right now, and I have yet to reach level 99 and acquire the ulitmate weapon and armors of my characters. I want them (and Izanagi-no-Okami) already so I could defeat Death and Margaret! Gah!

5. Persona 3- ...Yeah, I kinda didn't beat Elizabeth yet. >.<;

6. Towel(s)- I need loads of them 'cause I'm trying to lose weight for Grandma. 'Cause I love her. >.<;

7. Pen, paper, keyboard- I've got a fan novel, fanfiction, original fiction, and plays in the workds right now, and I want to finish most of them by the time I step into college. Because, seriously, I'll dedicate a play to my batch when, and if, it gets staged. So pray that it does get played!

8. Money box- My money is kept in a box, and not a piggy bank. The reason it's in my kit is because I want to save money, especially since I probably wont get that damned call center job that I want.

9. Schoolbooks for kids- Gia, my baby cousin, is going to school this year, so I want to teach her the basics so that she'd totally outshine the other kids. And I might become a summer teacher, so meh.

10. Illustration boards- Because, dammit! Archuleta WILL notice me when he comes here!

--------------

And those ten things are the contents of my Summer Kit. What's in yours?

Tomorrow, I would be graduating from high school, which is funny, seeing as I still feel like a freshman sometimes. I don’t feel anything in my body that signifies this momentous occasion yet- I probably won’t until the day itself. I don’t want to look back and reminiscence on my high school life either, because I’m pretty sure that it’ll only end in tears. I want to save them up for tomorrow because I’m pretty sure that there would be a flood of tears during the ceremony. If I learned one thing from our recent school retreat, it’s that my batch can shed enough tears to fill an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

You know, I honestly thought that I would be an awesome kid during high school. I thought that I would be a golden kid. I wouldn’t elaborate on that because it’s kind of a painful subject to breach. Right now, I feel like a washed up battered loser who has no bright future in sight because her own maternal figure (not my mom- she’s dead) views her as a washed up battered loser who has no bright future in sight (that sentence was repetitive, I know, but I’ve always wanted to type that line, dammit). I really wish that I tried harder and rose through the adversities that I’ve faced during the past four years, but…

There’s a saying that goes: “Regrets are always in the end”. I’m a strong believer in that saying, if only because I’ve been a victim of it for such a long time.

I wasn’t able to win any major competition during these four years. I wasn’t able to make a truly mutual relationship with anyone of my peers, platonic or not. I wasn’t able to become the shining goddess that my ________ wanted me to be. I sure as hell wasn’t able to catch the eye of the dude that I really want (not that I mind the guy I had, mind you). I sank further into unhealthy obsessions and have become a little bit less faithful, which eats me up every second of every day. I can feel my sanity slip away thread by thread, being pulled on by the negative events that plagued the entirety of my high school life.

In short: I’m a loser. I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo. I don’t deserve anything good that happened during the past four years.

Still, without the little golden rays of sunshine that shone through the dirty glass panes of my horridly dark life, I honestly would be dead now (or I would’ve already run away. I’ve never really mustered up the courage to actually inflict pain on myself). Those beacons of light that I deeply cherish, that I wish would go away because their time is being wasted on worthless disasters like me, made me want to live another day in hopes that, maybe, just maybe, there’s still hope and that I can live up to the expectations of those that lived before me (and of course, to my own expectations). They gave me hope and joy, things that I don’t deserve, things that so many impoverished youths and adults who have more worth than me deserve. I thank God for these things, though, because he still gives me the will to live through these little gifts.

When I planned to write a graduation post a few days ago, I thought it would be happy and inspiring. I guess, by reading what I’ve written so far, it came out whiny and macabre. Forgive me, but I just… I just wish that I could have been more deserving, could have been…more.

I’ve decided that I can’t end things on a negative note. So read on and see what I’ve got to be thankful about (and my message to my batch):

God and Jesus Christ- Without the two of them, I would have been faithless, worthless, and lifeless.

My grandmother and father- My grandmother, despite her age, still cares for me, and my father, whom I am not related to by blood, stuck through me instead of having another family.

My friends- Because no matter how big of a pretentious, insensitive jerk I was, they were still there.

….

… Here’s to my batch:

You all know that I kind of have a grudge against this batch. That’s a fact, and not really a secret. But this batch was just full of so many individuals that made this batch so diverse that everyone deserved a second glance. So for whatever it’s worth: Thank you, everyone. Thank all of you because you all taught me how to become less off an elitist intellectual and become more of a homely heart kind of person. Thank all of you for teaching me the value of socializing, of teaching me the warmth of a hug, of teaching me bravery and the real value of teamwork and unification. Reject me all you want for being so different, but from here on out, I think I’ll be a bit more proud of the fact that I’ve been a part of the second-to-the-last ‘proper’ batch of JASMS-HS.

Because… seriously? We are made of one-hundred percent awesome. True facts.

Today wasn’t actually that bad. I don’t feel the usual gloom-and-doom that clouds my senses whenever I’m at school- or at home. Then again, I have been feeling strange lately. Maybe it’s because of my ‘videogame’ (Dude who knows what this means, I will kill you if you spread what this means)? I’m pretty sure it’s not, but I want to know why I’m not that depressed anymore.

Moving on…

This entry would be a combination of the past few days, so this thing would be confusing (for some). I found out that my fellow prom inmates (I refuse to call it a date) are two of my theatre club mates. One of them is ‘special’, and one of them is a good guy to hang out with. I’m not really disappointed. After all, I could have gotten worse.

I just remembered- I went to the Manila Polo Club last Sunday because Audi had a display their. Since my pop is the new Sales Director (go dad!), he really had to be there. Unlike the other events that the company had, I genuinely had fun there. Sure it was an elitist-orgy, but it was eventful and had good food. Polo, apparently, is soccer, only with horses and bamboo mallets. There were also several polo players who were royalty, and some were extremely hot. And trust me, I am not exaggerating. I can still imagine that hot sixteen year-old polo player in the yellow shirt, and that dude with the black shirt, and that guy with the great hairdo… Err, well, you get the picture.

I got to talk to my dad’s co-workers, who were, as always, awesome. His bosses also talked to me, and one of them suggested that I take up law, which my dad took up on. Personally, I still don’t know if I do want to take it up. It’s interesting and all, but it just doesn’t jive with my anti-corporate sentiments. One of them looked a bit like either American or German, but he’s apparently Spanish (I think). I discovered a new drink: it’s blue and tastes mild, but I don’t know its name. It’s got a kick though, as I discovered whilst stumbling to the bathroom. And it colors your tongue and mouth blue.

I was finally able to sample ‘sparkling’ mineral water in that event. It tastes a lot like watered-down champagne, which gave it an eccentric flavor. There was also this snack that San Miguel gave away called ‘Trios’. It had garlic, onion, and shrimp-flavored chips in one pack, and it really tasted good. The clubhouse sandwiches, mini-burgers, chicken, and crispy pata were great too. Too bad I didn’t get to sample the food the guest had (the Audi team were stuck in the show tent where the cars were and couldn’t go to the dining area). Still, I didn’t need to cook the next day because I took home some of the food, so I shouldn’t really complain.

There was some classroom drama two days ago, courtesy of me. I didn’t mean to cry when I said that I objected to the derogatory awards that they planned on putting on the yearbook. The tears just flowed from my eyes, just like they always do when I feel mad or righteous. Does that mean I’m a crying, argumentative debater? I hope I grow out of that habit soon.

Yesterday, Ms. Earth Philippines and her cohorts came to school to school (Heh) us in things pertaining to our environment. While I was impressed with their answers and presentation- though I was perturbed by the kiddy antics at its start-, I was scarcely to obtain new information from this meeting. And the good that I’ve gained here doesn’t outweigh the bad things that happened because of said event. I missed some important lessons because of this, and I spent money on food that I really didn’t need.

Later on, I and my group mate went to the National Library for our baby thesis along with other students. We could have gotten there earlier, but my friend’s car got to school late. I don’t blame her though, for we probably would’ve been even more bored to tears. You see, I and my group mate didn’t get to use the books that we needed for our research because we were still in high school. There’s a rule about theses only being for college students and up, and I wasn’t even aware of that ‘til now. Since we couldn’t do anymore research, my group mate and I, along with several other friends, ate in a nearby fast-food ‘cause I had coupons for that place. Oh, and I’ll never underestimate the value of those things again. They are lifesavers for those with aching pockets- like me.

Today, since I’ve missed out on my Physics and Statistics lessons yesterday, I didn’t get any grades for the seatwork and quiz on those subjects; which sucked and probably would have happened even if I was there for those subjects. I did a pretty good job in my World History report though. Seeing as I had reading up on Fascism (my report), I was able to explain it in the best of my abilities and give the most important facts of the Mussolini-engineered belief. The notes I’ve put up on the board is even going to be posted up on the other section’s board! Heh!

Kingdom Hearts Re: Chain of Memories seems pretty rough for a TBRPG player like me. I’ve gotten used to Kingdom Heart’s action gameplay, and with the limited times of action, I’m wary of my success at this game. Speaking of which… Not only have I lost a ton of saves because one of my memory cards accidentally got reformatted, but I’ve lost VALEFOR- my precious, most loved and most prized possession in the whole world. Well, maybe that was exaggerated, but I loved that USB like it was my life. It had every picture that I’ve got on my many fandoms, all my ongoing and finished fanfics, all my fan-art, all of my educational materials, all of my bookmarks, all of my miscellaneous files, and… well… basically, half of my life. Without it, I’m lost, forlorn, and utterly miserable.

… Darn. I’m all depressed and dark again. I freaking loved that USB, and I still do. And probably always will. Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy, and that whoever found you or the USB deity would love you as much as I did (it’s that important to me).

Panic at the Disco’s That Green Gentleman (Things Have Changed For Me) is currently playing on my phone. I have been, once again, forcibly remembered of that glorious night filled with ethereally blissful music, played by a prodigal young band that has taken my skeptical heart and put it under their mystical spell. I have also been reminded of the horrible truth that I will subject myself to unending torture next Friday; when I watch the band-whose-name-must-not-be-uttered perform here in the Philippines for the second time. Look, you can’t force me to like Fall out Boy, okay?! I simply cannot stomach most of their lyrics: they’re disgustingly ‘mainstream’ and does not make sense at all. The only time they do make sense is when other people that the DemonWentz take the helm of songwriting. The musical arrangement of their new album is quite excellent though, I must admit.

And really, that’s my problem right there: I just can’t accept the fact that they made that guy the face of the band. You’ve got Patrick Stump, an excellent vocalist and musical composer; Andy Hurley, master of both Zen and Anarchy; and Joe Trohman, a commendable guitarist in his own right. All three excel and are way better role models (or, for the suits, much more marketable) than that ugly, untalented, unsavory bassist of theirs. From the minute I’ve seen his ugly mug and heard his playing, I immediately wanted to tear apart his binding contract with these three unfortunate souls. He’s just holding them down; ruining their promising futures and making them look less credible than they really are.

YOUTH OF THE NATION!!! Wake up and smell the gagging odor of that man you hold so dear! See the pure, unadulterated evil that is his substance! He is not the man you try so desperately to imagine him to be! HE IS UNWORTHY OF ALL OF YOU!!!

… Right, I’ll stop now.

Well, I have to go now, but rest assured that I will come back to blog again. Strangely enough, I actually do feel good typing all of this. And I get to practice my writing style, just like what one of my pop’s boss said. Later.

...I can't believe myself either. >.<; This is my frist time writing in ages, so I'm naturally nervous as fuck. I hope I don't mess this up...

Title: In The Sleepy Town Of Sheep
Rating: PG-13; R-13 at most
Chapter(s): Prologue
Warning(s): None so far. A swear word and flowery descriptions of characters. O.o;
Summary: In the sleepy town of Sheep, people grow wheat, are always on their feet, and discord was a word that was rarely heard of. As all cliche's state, this was not for long as a newcomer waltzes in some folk's life, stirring up hidden longings and unrealized dreams.
Notes: Err...My first time to write original fiction, really. Not counting the lame stuff I wrote back in elementary, of course. Please, do give feedback.