The Land of Crimson Dreams

Warning: dizty blah ahead. Do not continue if you do not want to see a scary side of me.

Think about this question while looking at the picture: Girl or boy?

Answer: Boy. Actually a man who's 26 years old. And his name is Jiro Wang.

Comments that went through my mind when I saw this picture in particular:

1. Yep, I think he's wearing make-up

2. Damn, I wish he isn't gay!

3. He actually looks a lot man-lier when he acts like a cute stalker-type (he has these gorgeous muscles) in It Started With a Kiss. Nope, he's not the lead character... he's actually an underdog, sawi side character who is supposed to NOT LOOK THIS GOOD, according to the manga. I love underdogs. *sigh*

4. SUPPORT ASIAN ACTORS!!!! (he's Taiwanese)

5. His lips looks so kissable. Yep, they're really shaped like that even though he's not pouting for me or the camera. hehehe.

6. *DROOL*

He's a good actor, and apparently a good singer because he's part of a boy band called Fahrenheit. Ugh, that's a minor setback but he's also in a real band so that makes up for it. *teehee* He looks soooo yummy. I could just EAT HIM ALIVE! *cackles evilly* ^_^

Okay, I just had to release that somewhere. Fortunately I have a blog. Go hot Asian Actors! Whooo!

I haven't clicked on blogs for a while.

There was a time in high school when I was crazy over blogs. I had three, in fact: one here in tabulas, another in pitas (I gave up on that) and the last in some page that I consider my bitchy, over-the-top ranting blog. Believe me, it's totally juicier than this. Only that it's secret, as to avoid the chance of the "topic of the article" seeing it - thus avoiding the increase of the suicide rate.

Yep, 'tis that harsh. And no, of course I will not disclose the site here. *evil*

Now, I only maintain this one (yeah, like twice a year) and I don't even bother with my friendster and multiply pages.  

I had a bad experience before that may or may not caused this eventual pathetic state I call "blogging". Our class in high school had a collective blog in pitas where we all ranted about the teachers, the class, boys (of course, it's an all-girls' school. duh.) and life in general. One day, our econ teacher slammed the door, wrote lessons on the board, stayed silent, and practically stomped out of the classroom. This went on for a while and most of us naturally wondered what was up his ass. After a few days, we figured that he must have stumbled upon our class blog and read some comments about him - totally  constructive criticism comments about his yabang factor and the way he teaches. Nothing that should cause that childish, overly-dramatic attitude. We asked him about it... and it WAS the cause of his pouting fit. Being the nice girls that we are, we grudgingly apologized and eventually, he forgave us. Damn banana cake man (sorry, inside joke).

The thing is, I have a feeling I started that article about him. It was a small comment, I think, that opened to the discussion. Upon realizing it, I felt extreme guilt (imagine a large raincloud over my head). Unfortunately for me, guilt stays longer than any other feeling I've ever felt. I never liked displeasing people and causing conflicts: so there I was, bug-eyed and cringing on my seat, constantly going over the chaos that I caused. Until now, I still flinch whenever I remember that. And to think that I never even liked that teacher. Ever. To feel guilt because of him... and what if that happens to a person I like? Unthinkable.

I'd like to think that there are times when I don't care what other people think when I write about them somewhere. That's a lie. I always care. And there's this constant fear of them finding out that I care about who they are and that they affect me in one way or another.

Ah, that fear again.  

That's the cause of vague, bland entries that this blog suffered.

Though there is that private option down there below, eventually I got tired of it and wrote haltingly. Then I missed it, writing. The joy of putting observations and fantastic imagination into words. So I decided to start again and be mature about it. Somewhat.

I decided a lot of things for the start of this last school year. I just hope I have more integrity than before. I need a wake-up call, a real push. I'm standing at the edge of the cliff now, hesitant. 

Someone, push me now.  

Here's a little something inspired by my sister leaving for Scotland (more like the idea of studying abroad) and the song "Sorry, Wrong Trajectory" by Flickerstick. *hikbi*

Sorry, wrong  t r a j e c t o r y
Combat is a part of our chemistry
Could you control me if you tried?

("Cigarette Truth") 

So where's your heart at now?
Cause you're always running out
When everyone seems to change
Don't you know that I'm still feeling the blame
Tonight I'm gonna be ready for you

I’m bloody annoyed. I’m tired of thinking about it. I’m tired of being angry at him and at myself for not saying earlier that yes, I am angry at him.

Shit, I’m being such a girl-freaking-friend.

It’s my fault, I spoiled him. Just because I’m the one who drives and who has a car doesn’t mean that I should be the one who always go to him (which I do). Just because I’m well-off doesn’t mean that I should be the one who pays for him sometimes (which I do, too). And just because I’m weirdly tomboyish doesn’t mean that my “It’s fine, I’m okay” should mean exactly what it does (which it does not). FYI, it means NO, IT’S NOT FINE AND I’M NOT OKAY. At that time, at least.

I actually looked forward to that day. I wanted to commute so that for once, he’d take care of me instead of me driving and making sure that we won’t die on the road. I wanted to go to the mall not just because of that convention but also to look for stuff I want to buy. I wanted to figure out what we had in common if we go out, something we don’t exactly do that often. What does he do? He complains about the heat while we commute, sulks because there are too many people at the mall (DUH), and keeps on hinting that we should go back and hang around with his friends.

I got fed up, sent him home, and spent the rest of the day with some batchmates laughing at a macho cosplayer wearing a leather vest and pekpek shorts.

And I thought, why the hell did I even bother? I kind of knew that he didn’t like going out that much. When we go to the mall, he doesn’t talk to me much and acts pa-cool. It’s so friggin annoying. I prefer going with either my batchmates or orgmates. At least we have lots of fun, even if it’s just laughing at some poor unsuspecting bystander. With him, it’s a guessing game: is he acting cool, is he annoyed or is he hungry… ugh! And he doesn’t give a decent answer at all!

I don’t want to say he’s selfish because I’m selfish too for wanting him to be more… accommodating? Entertaining? Whatever. Just anything, I suppose. Is it too much to ask for him to be happy when he’s with me in a very public place? Come on, I accept fake smiles that don’t look too fake.

And then in the end, I lose again to the guilt trip when he explains that he was feeling bad. The thing is, HE SHOULD”VE SAID SOMETHING EARLIER. That way, I could’ve just given him some pills and left him so he could rest… and avoid ruining my day. He does not think at all. I’m totally fine just shopping and going to the toycon on my own. It’s so UGH.

It’s times like these that one thinks about what a blessing it is to be single. Truly.

1st time to actually do a meme. I was tagged by leni and since I'm procrastinating (something I should NOT be doing this thesis year), I decided to do this and kid myself that I WILL start my paper after I post this meme.

Right.

1. Pick up the nearest book of at least 123 pages.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

Soooo...

1. I grabbed the top book on the pile artistically (haphazardly actually) balanced on my bedside table. Hurrah, 'tis Haruki Murokami's After Dark.

2. Top page reads 3:42am. So it's on... chapter 11.

3. 5th sentence: Mari frowns. (hehehehe. funny.)

4. Next 3 sentences: "All you had to do was give har a call afterwards and ask Eri directly - if you were really that worried about her. "

Takahashi gives a little sigh. "To get back to our first conversation tonight, supposing I was to call your house and Eri Asai answered, I wouldn't have any idea what to say to her."

5. I tag... damn, nobody reads this blog other than leni and agnes. hahaha. So I tag... caspers 1-5. I guess this particular meme ends here. I am a pathetic, loser blogger. Oh well, that's life.

 

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Something about the author: I love Haruki Murokami and his surrealistic, inexplicable fiction goodness. It's like dark chocolate. *YUM* I recommend his books to deep thinkers... and even to shallow ones, what the hell. I can't decide if I like his works because they're so real... or because they're so surreal. He writes such insightful conversations that only occurs at inuman sessions, on that certain time when most of the people are either sleeping or vomiting in the toilet, and the ones left at the table are enjoying that tipsy haze and the bursts of deep thought that comes out naturally in a continuous exchange of words and non-words.

 

Yep. Helluva writer. And After Dark is a rainy day book. READ IT. ^_^

 Hold on, dream away... you're my sweet charade - Hate This Place by Googoo Dolls