If only I could have a hot cosplayer boyfriend I would be forever happy. #1, he likes anime, and we’d have plenty to talk and fight about. #2, I fall in love with fictional characters frequently so it’d be great to fall in love with someone real yet can look like my fictional hubbies. #3 ROLEPLAYINGUUUU. I would coerce him into role playing my OTPs forevars and guess who will he be shipped with. >:D 

(A flaky scatterbrained post is flaky and scatterbrained. FANTASYYY. Sorry for the longer than usual hiatus guys, I was out watching Katekyo Hitman Reborn.♥ Will be blogging about it this week while disillusioning myself that I can still go on wasting my time even though the end is near.;D Which is what I did tonight.)

Last night was one of the most fun nights I had this semester.

I watched Elbi Pie: Rufo vs Raffles and even got to witness the CAS lantern lighting event. The lantern lighting event was magical, and my heart ached as I remembered my favorite Disney scene. I felt lucky as I watched the lanterns fly up and slowly disappear into the night, like stars making their way to the vast expanse of the universe. It was painfully beautiful and I felt as if I have something missing within me. Last night was a cold night.

Watching the Elbi Pie for the first time and possibly the last time (hopefully) in my university life, I wonder how much I have missed when I decided not to watch the past years’ Elbi Pie shows. They said that the last one was literally a monologue, but several years ago, the shows were really extreme (boys and girls kissing, boys and boys kissing, and girls and girls kissing. Read: kissing everywhere). Anyway, last night’s show was worth my money. I realized a lot of things, and my number one discovery is: WYRE UNDERGROUND GUYS ARE REALLY HOT. Maybe it’s the costume, maybe they really are cute, but the confidence they ooze out when they dance… just makes my ovaries explode.(@__@ ) What I wouldn’t give/do just to have one for myself… Hehe.♥

So that’s Realization#1. Realization#2 has something to do with the final line of the show, asking the readers to think over which they are: the one who is hurt by love, or the one who hurts others? Admittedly, I’m the latter. The theater actress who plays Ruffles, who plays the “hurter,” even said the line I strongly agree with: “The opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference.” Yes, I may have been hurt a lot, but I guess the pain I caused others doesn’t even compare. I had people who loved me and I didn’t love back, and then there’s this guy who loved me and I did love back, but that’s what it was: it’s did. Past tense. Not in my present, and not in my future. Which brings me again to the question I asked several years’ back: Am I totally devoid of emotion? It’s not I’m totally avoiding love, I’m searching for it desperately, and I cringe at the thought that maybe I’d die alone. I’m a superficial bitch and I can’t help it: appearance does matter a lot to me. I’d hang anyone by the neck who says otherwise, because it’s exactly the first thing on my list whenever I categorize people into my friend and friend-but-I’m-hoping zones. So maybe, I think of myself too highly to think that I deserve someone so good looking, but I think that has nothing to do with my self perception since I read too much shoujo manga—almost every manga fan knows that shoujo manga are not exactly good for lowering expectations. I myself am starting to realize that I may have let one fish go too soon. I regret not giving him a chance, but I try not to think a lot about it. Say what? Regret is a useless emotion.  

Realization#3 is “walang malaking aparador sa maliit na kwarto!” (There’s no large cabinet in a small room!) Funny shit. The best part of the show is Sir harassing the good looking guys from the audience.

A friend, whom I haven’t bonded with in a while, told me that I seemed melancholic. I said a was just bored, listless, feeling a little bit unloved. Aside from the academic conundrums that I am faced with, which I, by the way, normally neglect; the once in a while gossip and drinking sessions I have with my friends; and the familiarly bright glare from the computer screen I face upon going home late, I have nothing else in my schedule that seems the bit least interesting. Waking up twenty minutes before my first class are the only adrenaline-filled moments in my life, and at most cases, as if knowing I’m in a dream and that nothing matters, I go about, uncaring if I’m late or not. It was if, life, again, has become mundane for me.

Procrastination is my best friend—she accompanies me at all times, and even though I know that she is never a good influence for me, I enjoy her company so much that at the blank moments in my life, when I do get to reflect at the semester nearing its end, I cringe at the thought that I haven’t done anything to be proud of yet. The want to graduate on time with a laude standing should have convinced me to already ditch her, but most of the times I cling to the hope that maybe I’m still smart, maybe my brilliancy will let me push through, even though I do know that I am not the person who I once was. I am not a person who can understand easily anymore with minimal effort, I am not someone that people can look up to as someone exceptional, because I am not who I once was. My brain is dead, along with my morals. I stopped reaching for the gold, resigning to the fact that yes, I am not someone I myself can be proud of, and that yes, I may have done a lot of miscalculations in the profession I picked. I cannot see myself being happy in this career, thinking aside from the large benefits I can gain once I graduate, but do I really have the right to think of such things, with only a little more than a semester left before it all ends? God forbid making me stay a little longer in the university. I want to graduate on time.

And then I look at the other aspect of my life that has always been missing, but I never thought that I would be grow into the kind of girl that I despise. I hate those kind of girls—thinking that life without romantic love is useless. Depending on a man for happiness. I used to be an advocate for independence. Who needs men? They are the ones who fall deep in love/lust for women, not the other way around. I have lived twenty years with this line of thinking, but why now, nearing my 21st year, do I feel as if not having a guy around is blatantly colorless? It’s as if experiencing a bit of this so-called phenomenon has caused me to crave for so much more. I want to experience it before I graduate. I want to have this while I’m still my youth. I have moved on from loving the person, yet I still haven’t moved on from loving the feeling of loving. The moments when you just smile out of nowhere from remembering some trivial events, I miss it. It’s as if I cannot live without them anymore. It’s as if I cannot survive without affection from the opposite sex. I despair over this new me.

There, I said it, issues that have been bringing me tears lately, together with my favorite ending scene from Code Geass R2. Even my animanga fangirling has become rusty, and a while ago I realized that I was privileged enough to watch some selected worthwhile anime, and that I really should watch some again. Maybe joining new fandoms would make me cheer up, but it will be definitely bad for my academics. ‎(￣▽￣)ノ?

Lately I’ve been wondering if it is worth the wait. I’ve been waiting for too long, in fact, as soon as the semester starts, the wait will reach the one year mark. For one year I have been waiting for something that I have never had, a shot to something that I have always dreamt of since I was a child exposed to Koreanovelas and shoujo manga. I was so focused on this one person that I’ve let others slide past not unscathed. And now I am, once again, feeling guilty for all the possible pain that I have caused them, reminded by recent conversations of chances I let slide and cleared of all illusions that everything is okay again. 

And now I’m pondering once again if he really likes me the way or how much he claims to, because if he does, then why do I feel as if I’m back at square one, when everything was all one-sided? I can’t bring myself to believe the excuse that he is torpe, and in my humble and naive opinion, guys have no right to be torpe since it’s us girls who do the waiting, it’s us girls who do the hoping without the chance of actually going all out on wooing. Call me sexist and too traditional, but I totally live in the idea of ligaw—it’s my way of gauging if someone’s really serious about me. Being serious about me doesn’t always do the trick tho. 

My friend said I’m disillusioned about love. I said she once was too.

Recently, I’ve had this habit of smiling while texting. The reactions people give me for doing so are precious. They range from smiling back at me mischievously to giving me exasperated sighs, but never do I get an indifferent reaction. I usually ask them if it’s not acceptable in our society to smile when texting, then follow up with the excuse that it takes less facial muscles to smile than to frown. However, I Googled if that adage is true and found out that it is not. Boo. Now I can’t use that excuse even if people don’t know, because I myself know that it’s not. Crap.

People also keep telling me that I’m blooming, but I don’t know if that’s true. I feel yuckier than ever, however, one thing’s for sure: I do smile more. Last night I had the misfortune of having no seat on the bus. The conductor told me that I could sit near the driver by the door, and I agreed since I don’t want inertia tossing me all around the bus. Plus, sitting beats standing at any time of the day. The conductor asked me if I wanted more air (i.e. he would direct the aircon vent towards me) but I said no, with this really biiiiig smile on my face. He must have been weirded out.(=.= )

I drew this on one of those days.

And no I really didn’t mean the drooling part that much.>:D

I’m catching bipolarity tho. Sometimes everyone should just give me free ice cream and blueberry cheesecake then go away This picture was taken on one of those days.