Literature Network Forums - Blogs - NOT FOR THE FAINT-HEARTED: Tales of Crazy Possession and Lethal Obsession by RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/blog.php?34177-NOT-FOR-THE-FAINT-HEARTED-Tales-of-Crazy-Possession-and-Lethal-Obsession The largest classic literature discussion forum on the Internet. Read Write Teach Share. en Fri, 05 Jun 2026 07:08:29 GMT vBulletin 10 https://www.online-literature.com/forums/images/misc/rss.jpg Literature Network Forums - Blogs - NOT FOR THE FAINT-HEARTED: Tales of Crazy Possession and Lethal Obsession by RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/blog.php?34177-NOT-FOR-THE-FAINT-HEARTED-Tales-of-Crazy-Possession-and-Lethal-Obsession A Blessing in Disaster https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?6429-A-Blessing-in-Disaster Tue, 30 Sep 2008 11:34:23 GMT After over a month of not updating this blog, what now? We were supposed to have our Periodic Test today, but it got called off because our school... After over a month of not updating this blog, what now?

We were supposed to have our Periodic Test today, but it got called off because our school burned. Well, not all of it, thank God. But the Registrar's office and faculty center in the second floor were completely devastated.

That gives me seven days to fill my brain with the things I wasn't able to understand in the span of two months (an entire quarter as it is here); which is good since we will not be having classes until Friday, and school resumes on Monday yet.

Can't believe after all I've done, regardless of how bad I've been, I'd still be deserving of a miracle like this.

But I am.

And man, do I feel like one lucky gal. :) ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?6429-A-Blessing-in-Disaster #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?6123-*-!-) Sun, 17 Aug 2008 15:07:41 GMT Last night I watched the movie featuring the life story of Mahatma Gandhi. It was long, but it was worth all the time. :) There was an intermission... Last night I watched the movie featuring the life story of Mahatma Gandhi. It was long, but it was worth all the time. :) There was an intermission in between that was rather long and lasted around 10 minutes, if my count was right, wherein only Ravi Shankar's music was played against a blackened screen. As much as I did not like it as much as I liked the rest of the movie (though I did love the great Indian composer's music--it was the existence of the "intermission" itself that I detested), I'm afraid I must do so today. :( This is because I have spent so much time doing my EnSci homework, which I have not even finished, on account of the presence of the Internet (man, did I not know it was going to be so disturbing. :p) and this person who, well, intrigues me so much. :D Remember, I told you guys to return "tomorrow" to see what happens next? Well, today's tomorrow and here I am jabbering endlessly to keep you entertained throughout the "intermission." :lol: Well, I hope that doesn't make you any less faithful (though I'm sure you will be so :p) to me than you are (or are you?;)) today, but I'm afraid I must again say that you come back tomorrow, and I'll spare you another day. :) And I promise, I won't get lost again. (If I ever do, I'll send out clues for you to be able to find me. :D) ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?6123-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?6113-*-!-) Sat, 16 Aug 2008 17:13:52 GMT Finally, after over a month and so much trouble... ...we now have a permanent Internet connection!:D Woohoo! :banana: The days of rushing to... Finally, after over a month and so much trouble...

...we now have a permanent Internet connection!:D Woohoo! :banana:

The days of rushing to an Internet cafe are over, no more running home with empty pockets due to doing requirements from six PM 'til two o' clock in the morning! No need to squeeze several tasks into 1 hour of net surfing! At last! I have gained my freedom, and right now I am the happiest I have ever felt in years (well, not exactly the happiest, on account of those numerous competitions through which I have emerged rather victorious in between which have given me a much better feeling, but none as unique and as fulfilling as this ;)). In fact, I'm already thinking I should trash being emo, now that I have re-realized (Man, I'm glad I have!:D) that I am indeed a lucky person and there are a lot of things that I should be thankful for. But then again, no, for this is who I am, the person I've developed into over the years I have been in science high school (or rather, the person I became as a result of my own molding, considering that we are animate and can mold ourselves), and I could always be a cheerful emo. But throw away my personality? And squander this beautiful moment? No way!

Four years ago, I remember having accepted a challenge by my parents to open my piggy bank (that, by then, was totally full--in fact it weighed almost ten kilos!:eek:) and if its contents (both coins and bills, since my dad encouraged me to feed it with both kinds of money) summed up to a stunning amount of ten thousand bucks, I could get myself a really good birthday gift. It was a huge piggy bank, a giant plastic bear over two feet tall, which was given to me by my grandmother for my seventh birthday. From the start I was optimistic; I insisted on opening it a few weeks before my birthday so I could have time to decide what to buy with it. Turns out it fell short of ten thousand by a tiny amount--around nine thousand and seven hundred, I guess. Still, even though my dad was half-Chinese and embraced the same principles as his successful relations, he was kind enough to give me the money (which was always mine and never anyone else's, he had stressed from the very beginning) and the freedom to choose anything I wanted as long as I could afford it. Of course, I was a kid then, in spite of the appearance. So the first things I chose were an mp3 player (64 Mb :p) and a digital camera (at that time, such things were new in the market). Why am I telling you about these things? Because when I realized (with the help of my parents of course--*through gritted teeth* thanks to them) that none of these things were worth their price yet, being expensive though they showed nothing but their potential to improve, I gave it up and cooked up a brand new idea: Internet service at home. Back then, dial-up was still the fad and it cost quite a lot since you had to have a telephone wired to your home (which often cost quite a big fraction of your monthly wages), a modem, and several Internet cards that run out fast, signalling "time to buy a new one!" Besides, it was slow, so one internet card could do nothing to you but send you home swearing. Even though I had the money to pay for it, they said, it wouldn't be very practical. As expected, the idea was junked.

Three years passed. Here I was, a day before Christmas, 2007. I had lost my phone, and had endured over a month of suffering with my old phone which encountered a lot of problems, and now I thought it was time to uplift myself (for my very own good). So I gathered all the stipends I had earned throughout my 6 months of being at the science high school (you see, the great thing about my school is that they give you monthly allowances and education is, well, "free." ;)) and man, did I have ten thousand! I told my parents rather earnestly, though by installment and for a long period of time, that I wanted a new phone (and needed a new phone) so I got to buy one. A Nokia N73. Cool. :cool: A Nokia N73 Music Edition (the black one). Cooler. :cool::cool: With 3G... and Mobile Internet--the kind you can connect to your laptop and, ta-da! Instant Internet service--for ten bucks every thirteen minutes. Amazing... er, not so. :sick:

And so seven months passed. Of course, I got sick of it. How on earth could I do my assignments which pointed to the Internet as a source if all I had was this mobile connection that was slow and cost a lot! How could I afford to waste ten bucks every thirty minutes if I only got three hundred a month and wrote for an hour or so? Well, it's about time we get a permanent connection. For 990 a month, we could purchase a landline+DSL bundle. :) So we did.

Don't miss what happens next! Check on this blog tomorrow and I'll guarantee you your life. :lol: ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?6113-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?6084-*-!-) Mon, 11 Aug 2008 11:00:37 GMT Man, it's been a long time since I last posted something to this blog, and I wonder if you guys still remember me? I bet you don't anymore! :bawling: (To myself: Now, now! If you don't stop this, they're surely going to think you're going through some sort of existential crisis!) Tsk, tsk. :(

By the way, sorry for that. You see, that was my conscience at work again. It bothers me every time I think of something emo, as its current job is to make sure I am functioning to my utmost capacity, and too much emoity certainly doesn't help me achieve it. Sure, it may be an irritating conscience, and a disturbing one it is, indeed; still, never in my life will I wish I could fire it, seeing as it does its job wonderfully... anyway.:p

Speaking of consciences and jobs, the two most closely-related things in the entire universe, I'm afraid I must inform you of the two tasks I am currently assigned to perform (thanks to that bothersome boss of mine, whom I am often forced to address as "myself"): one is to tell you stories of success, which I will do RIGHT NOW--that is, after this paragraph is finished.;)

Some weeks ago, I auditioned for the coveted post (:lol:) of writer in our school blog, which has just begun to become active this month. Luckily, I got accepted. :) A few days after we received the good news, our adviser told us to submit an article about ourselves. The four top-ranking ones would be displayed first on the blog.

First task accomplished.

Second task: to REJOICE, and work as an advertiser (part-time), that you may share in my ecstasy in making it to the top four, and also to inform you of the location of my blog post. You are cordially invited to visit it, and you may stay for as long as you wish. Ah, and comments will be much appreciated. :)

http://www.pisayvoices.com

First one up, guerraparaverdad, is mine. Hurry, you'll get the best of it today! :banana: ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?6084-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?5803-*-!-) Sat, 28 Jun 2008 09:24:52 GMT Discrimination. Many of us despise this word. I, too, possess an extreme loathing for it, and will not go into in-depth descriptions of it seeing as... Discrimination. Many of us despise this word. I, too, possess an extreme loathing for it, and will not go into in-depth descriptions of it seeing as all of us know about it—and hate it. And indeed, why mustn’t we? No one wants to be belittled, nor cursed at because his looks are not desirable to others, because she is a woman, because he is not the richest man in the universe, because his religion is not the most powerful religion in the world, and so many other because-s. To some people, this gets so irritating to the point that it makes them sick. Why, who tells us that these are the most terrible-looking people, that women are weak, that only the rich can do or mean something, which religion is king, and so on? People, of course. Yes, people. Those people who believe in and tell us these stupid things.

I must admit that I have never experienced the impact of racial discrimination with such pain and sadness as that of my countrymen when they heard a white man hurl personal insults at their snub noses, almond-shaped eyes, and golden-brown skin, as people often behold my looks with the same regard they hold for people of the Caucasian race—one fact that is not at all reassuring, but only gives me a picture of how unfair things are in this world, despite the “many” changes it has encountered since the time slavery was outlawed.

Religious discrimination is yet another form of social injustice which people of all races, social status and gender must bear. Although there is a valid reason for people to look down at me because of my religion, I have quite successfully prevented this by not speaking of it in public. Not that I am ashamed of my religion, of course not, I just don’t feel comfortable speaking about it, especially in front of people who scorn it. Certainly I am not doing this to make it look like I am hopeless; I just do not want anything to keep me from reaching my dreams. When at last I succeed in realizing all of my aspirations, I will slowly begin to eliminate this destructive mindset from the suffering brains of the people. Never to worry, allies.

Discrimination due to social status: this is the type of discrimination I am most familiar with. Though no one really walks up to me and tells me in my face that I am poor, therefore I cannot do anything; yet I feel it in their stare and the way they treat my family. Just because we cannot afford an excess of luxuries, they label us among the poor, incapable people even though they do not state it. We are middle-class people, not rich, and not very poor either, yet the wealthier class often looks down at us and deprives us of the respect we must have. Luckily, in my school, which is slowly getting to be a school for the elite (a very sad thing, indeed), nobody is able to decipher the mystery as to whether I am very rich or poor, for my father has taught me how to look presentable to everyone and to compete with people on a different aspect, that even the richest people around would see me as their equal.

This time, I would like hear from you. Have you had any experiences with discrimination, or are you currently struggling to break free from it? If that is so; I would be very pleased to hear your stories. Not only do we share the same viewpoint, we might also get to help each other solve our problems regarding discrimination, for I know how traumatizing it is to be in a situation like this. If you wouldn’t mind, I will include your story in a school project, so please identify yourself; however, if you wish to remain anonymous, feel free to PM me on this, or state a brief identification on this PM to me. I thank you very much, and hopefully one day we shall be able to stand up against those who look down at us, and who knows? Maybe, one day, we might begin to see things in a totally different light. :) ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?5803-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?5511-*-!-) Sat, 24 May 2008 12:05:40 GMT Finally! After ages of being an extinct species… here I am. Online again. :) I was last sighted in this place a few weeks ago by explorers who... Finally! After ages of being an extinct species… here I am. Online again. :)

I was last sighted in this place a few weeks ago by explorers who happened to be passing through my territory, and really, I didn’t mind at all; in fact, I welcomed them with such high acceptance that even after my disappearance they still look back to the moment they first saw me walking out of my burrow and extending my hand. How do I know? Well, I have my sources. The prairie is vast and extends almost infinitely to the horizon, the planet a million times larger, yet after each mile there is a checkpoint erected to my own advantage, each of which is home to one of my knowing friends. Haha. You know I’m just kidding, senselessly, in fact. Admit it. ;) I’m making no sense to you. Not that I find much sense and substance in what I’m saying either. I’m just happy because I’m back, and for what is not just an ordinary day, but my 1st Year Anniversary! Such a wonderful reason to indulge in

Well, it isn’t really my first year anniversary today today. I don’t even know when it is. All I know is that I joined litnet on May 2007 (that’s what’s displayed on my account) but I don’t know the exact date—I don’t really care. After all, what matters is that I’ve found this place, having stumbled across it one year ago (accuracy never counts) out of what I believe is pure luck and sympathy (I thank Thee, Lord), was here for a year, and am back again. I won’t be here long, but soon after I’ve adjusted to the comfiness of my good ol’ burrow I’ll return—and that’s for sure. Plus, here’s some wonderful news for you, for I won’t just be back with myself, but also I’ll be bringing some wonderful surprises! So don’t forget to drop by my home constantly, even when I’m not around, for who knows? You don’t want to miss out on some splendid things!

P.S. To all American Idol fanatics. This is good news for you, because I’m with you somehow. DAVID COOK ROCKS!!! Congratulations to the lucky brute…:D ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?5511-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?5058-*-!-) Thu, 03 Apr 2008 07:40:21 GMT Now that I'm back at litnet after several days of missing it so much... I supposed it would be worth all the days I am (and would be) gone (:() to post a poem I wrote when I was in sixth grade. Whoops! Don't turn your back on me just yet! I promise you it won't be that bad.

Or will it?

The answer will come to you as you read on.

Again... our friendly reminder.
Copyright rules everybody.
Copyright rules. ;)

(untitled*)

You’re my friend but you are evil
I don’t know if I’ll like you still.
But you are my friend for you’re meant to be
And just like a demon you’re cursed to me.
You stay with me and be my all,
You stand beside me and I stand tall
And you wouldn’t care to appear so small
But later on you’ll see me fall
And I crash to the ground, without a sound
For you’ve come to catch me, and stay around
And watch me hold back all my cries
As we look into each other’s eyes
And you see the hurt you’ve done to me
Though I know you’ll never truly see
For deep inside you, you feel nothing,
While I am trying to fight back this feeling
And hold back words of silent aggression
I don’t know why I can’t let you hear them.
I know I’m strong, strong enough to be true.
But I’m not strong enough to get away from you.
I know I don’t need you, for I never did.
But what’s this strange force you heed?
When I didn’t know you, I did survive
But now, without you, I’m never alive.
Is there an instance I can cite
Of me becoming a parasite
To you—indeed there’s nothing I know
But if you’re the host upon which I grow
You must be dying. You’re dying for me
To die too and keep you company
But that can’t be, for what you’ve taken from me
Is my own opportunity
To live, to survive, to be just fine
And to fairly take what should be mine.
The feeling is too harsh, I cannot hold
I’m lying in the dark, I’m trembling and cold
I cry in your arms, till time tells me when.
And then like a miracle I feel warm again.
I don’t know what God meant to give you to me.
If only He'd let me, I'd set you free.
If I turn back and leave and never return
I'd be happy but if you go it's my heart that'll burn.

©acg2006,2008


*For years I have been trying to come up with a title that would suit this poem, for it seemed like nothing would. I sent it to an poetry contest for adults once (along with a few other poems I made in fifth grade) with the title "My Irony Friend," unfortunately it didn't win and I stripped it of the title right away, seeing as I was not satisfied with it at all for it did not reflect the poem's true feeling. However, I'm sure some of you could come up with great ideas for a title that would finally complete this poem. Your suggestions are most welcome! :) ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?5058-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?5057-*-!-) Thu, 03 Apr 2008 06:49:49 GMT Three days after my birthday, and miraculously, I don’t feel old. Strangely enough, before it happened and passed just like another ordinary day in... Three days after my birthday, and miraculously, I don’t feel old. Strangely enough, before it happened and passed just like another ordinary day in my life (plus the picture-taking—whew, that was great!), I always thought I would. Closer and closer to my granny days I would inch, and begin to feel so much like a granny too, little by little, until one day I’d come face-to-face with the end “ without even knowing it.” After all, time passes too fast, doesn’t it? Well, if only I could just have another plus moment to stay on Earth because the world is such a wonderful place indeed, others just don’t realize it; then I wouldn’t have to fear for anything at all. Unfortunately, as of now, there is absolutely no way for me to know the accurate answer, if I could or I could not, and as a result I came down with a phobia, which, only to be honest, was not good at all. Well, which phobia is? Every time the thought of shutting down and entering oblivion (you do understand what I’m trying to say) entered into my mind, by accident or whenever something reminded me about it, it would overwrite my thoughts and suddenly my brain would be preoccupied with no other thought but that very disturbing one. I hated it each time my phobia sprang to activity; it was like a monster that had come to life inside my head and was eating every single thought that stood in its way. It acted as though it wanted to have my entire brain, to disable me, and to finally kill me by scaring me about it. Why it existed, I didn’t though, though my random guess was that it was triggered by a discussion my classmate had brought up in school as the student-teacher on Teachers’ Day. “What is your biggest fear?” he had asked us, to which another classmate had replied, “I’m afraid of death.” Immediately I was able to relate to him, while everyone else let out surprised gasps. I assumed it was because nobody, not even our student-teacher (who was, in fact, one of the poor kid’s best friends/worst enemies), expected such a statement coming from him, but when, at once, I thought of it I knew he had made sense. I was scared of the same thing. Deeper and deeper into thought I sank, and slowly my mind gave birth to a monster it would have to battle later on. I didn’t want it. I had to admit, I was afraid—this time, not of the feared thing itself but of the monster I had created out of it. But then I guess growing another year older (and wiser, I hope) has made me grow right out of the fear and into a brand new perspective, like a molting lizard when it sheds its old skin and gains not only a better appearance but also a better outlook towards survival. Life is indeed ironic, don’t you think?

Speaking of my birthday, which hardly anybody took much notice of, it wasn’t a very memorable day; or at least not as memorable as any of my past birthdays. Originally, my plan was to go out and take a refreshing dip in a pool; unfortunately our subdivision didn’t have many swimming pools to boast, and even if there were a way to confirm these pools’ existence, we wouldn’t know where to locate them anyway. Thus, we would have to consult various forms of media and advertising in order to find a swimming pool we could reach. And even if we did find one, we would have to know first if it had a roof or not, as I have already learned my lesson the hard way and would not want to swim in a pool that lacks the necessary UV protection (and we all know that sunscreen is not enough—it will never be enough). Neither would my dad—why, even if he didn’t swim (and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t—he hardly does) I’m sure he wouldn’t like me coming home looking like burnt barbecue either. I believe he is right, because I am not exactly fond of ruining my complexion. In short, taking a swim for just a day this summer would be too much trouble. Plus, it could be way too expensive, as both my parents have distaste for public pools. So I thought of going out with my elementary-school friends, whom I’d met in their high school that Friday before my day. I promised them we’d hang out, go to the mall, play arcade, watch a movie, perhaps—all those kinds of stuff. But then my mom said no, on account of the gift they had given me just five days before—a brand new laptop. It cost quite a lot, but they allowed me to have it, providing that I surrender a certain amount of my allowance amounting to its price—meaning no big expenses, no parties, no nothing. Yeah, right. It could be hard, I thought, but I guess I can do it. It was a deal; therefore, I had to stick to it.

But being entwined in such a policy has its own ups and downs. All the little things that were mentioned above are just the cons of it. On the bright side, having a new laptop of your very own is just cool. You now have a space to store all your stuff without having to show your whole family that you have them. You have something to reach for immediately each time a nice thought enters your mind. You no longer have to take turns with people who must satisfy this need to play a game. You are free to download all the great games, applications and software in the world, because heck, who is in the position to question you? Enough of being rebellious now, it’s time to be the great writer I want to be someday: with a laptop of your own, you have a place to store all your original creations where nobody else will look at them. However, for me, the best reason would probably be: it’s just nice to have something you could call your own, something that belongs to just you and not to anyone else.

I expected to have a nice time, with many people greeting me and perhaps even a birthday message on General Chat, which I did get; I just realized only now. :D Yet the absence of litnet’s most colorful personalities on the 30th of March plus the slow progress made the forums appear dead and lacking its usual luster. It then occurred to me that without these people, without the driving force (in this case, good threads and the most exciting games) that would inspire these people to stay, log in every single day and keep them from staying away as some members have reportedly done, litnet would be nothing, and I would be nothing more.

I didn’t stay in litnet the whole day long; whenever the members online stopped being active, I would log off for a moment and go to another web site. I had the longest internet-surfing experience I’d ever had at home, and I guess that’s what I’ll remember most about this past birthday. In the afternoon I had a photo-shoot, with myself as the director and my dad as my official photographer. It lasted more than two hours, and by six in the evening I had a hundred and seventeen wonderful emo shots, just the way I wanted them to look, maybe even better. Afterwards, my family and I gathered around our old but trusty TV, which is even older than my first childhood memory (and to think that it was about a trip to this theme park in my hometown when I was not yet two years old), to watch the movie “Duma.” Before we purchased my laptop, my parents were actually thinking of replacing our old TV with a more modern high-def LCD TV, but after a few days of researching and canvassing we decided we really didn’t need it anyway. After all, with a science-high sophomore in the house, the simple life could actually be beneficial—in a way.

Back then I thought my most recent birthday celebration was the suck-iest (for want of a better word!) one I'd ever had (and would probably ever have). Only now have I realized I was actually able to fulfill a wish I had made several years ago, something I’d been wishing for so badly for my entire preteen life: to have one special day entirely to myself. By the time I was thirteen I had already gained much of the freedom I had spent an eternity just yearning to have, and so I almost totally forgot the wish. During my ----teenth birthday, I had done four things—four things I really loved to do (but couldn’t do regularly on account of my very busy schedule):

1) Surf litnet
2) Text
There are actually ten things I’m currently obsessed with (besides love and a certain guy in our school hiding under the alias “Sun”): cell phones, technology, litnet, the Internet in general, everything related to English, gaming (in English or Italian), writing, rock music, art, and more specifically, texting. I had a texting-spree the whole morning with my cousin, talked to her in the bath, communicated with my former English teacher who actually remembered my birthday (despite the fact that we have been apart for almost three years!), and got to text a very special somebody in my life. He was one of my best friends in elementary school and was my classmate before I went to high school (and moved to science high); we were very close friends then, thanks to his ex-girlfriend who became my best friend and the girl whom he was extremely infatuated with. Back then I had a crush on a high-school guy whom I thought was handsome and appealing and kind, but turned out arrogant and lofty-headed when I tried to talk to him. One day, we quarreled, and this close friend of mine was there when it happened. So I turned to him instead. It started from dreams that seemed to occupy me night after night after night, dreams where images of him and I walking down the aisles in school—hand in hand—would flash all the time, dreams of him and I going to camp together (and even sleeping in the same bed!) when he could actually have roomed with the girl whom he wanted so much to himself, dreams of him and I doing things that could only be done under the influence of a drug named “Love,” seven dreams in totality—which, at that time, seemed really funny, for he was smaller than I was—not to mention almost a year younger! One day, during a special practice for our special graduation ceremony, I was called to sing, and I was surprised to hear the rest of my class taunting him to go upstage! And guess what? He went! It was humiliating enough, and I thought it would end there. But no! The next day, on the real graduation ceremony, in front of all the students and parents and teachers--he went up--on his own will--thinking that he was supposed to be there! That is why every time I hear the song "You Raise Me Up,” I remember him. Oh, I wish I had load to communicate with him again, after he just told me he was free again.
3) Hold an emo photo-shoot of my very own
4) Watch a movie

And to think that I didn't hear from my parents at all!

Now, now, I believe this is getting too long; there shall be nothing more of this from now on. Allow me to conclude that I had a very simple yet fulfilling birthday celebration... after all. ;)

(NOTE: Pictures to come. :)) ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?5057-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?4997-*-!-) Sun, 30 Mar 2008 08:50:56 GMT A very special number for a very special day. If only I could tell you why. :p Indeed, today is a very special day, marked by the first time I... A very special number for a very special day. If only I could tell you why. :p

Indeed, today is a very special day, marked by the first time I write a very simple entry. This was published in my LiveJournal blog a few minutes ago, so I just thought, well, why not put it here, so my fellow litnetters could see it too? :) And maybe somebody out there might be in the mood to greet me.
:bday_2:

Oh, and in case you get to the end of this without getting irritated or bored--which is very surprising indeed, if you ask me--I will tell you yes, it was true. I almost drowned--in stupidity, that is--stupidity of my very own--when I put a MiniSD card into an SD card and watched it go down, down, into a stupid card reader, too dark, too deep; where everything special I had stored inside it had suddenly stored itself in its own doom.

---

"I'd never realized I was young until the day I became older"

Today's the day. The day I've been looking forward to the least. The moment of truth. The period of torture. (Oh, come on, don't be such a pessimist. My life's fine.)

When I was younger, I used to look forward to birthdays with anticipation, thinking that each one marked the opening of new opportunities, privileges and possibilities in life. Now, they only seem to have one sole purpose: to make me older (and possibly allow me to watch more shows and have more freedom). If only I could stay -- forever.

But no. That's impossible. How come? Well, for goodness sake, how on earth could someone be -- forever if she isn't -- anymore? That explains it, and everything else! Period. Or, to make it more realistic, exclamation point. And another two more exclamation points. End.

If last year, 2007, was one of the longest years in my life to me, possibly even the longest (just telling you why would cost me hours of precious birthday time--in fact I was doing a writeup on this yesterday, which I could've posted on this very blog if it didn't lost when my mother pulled the cord of my laptop without thinking at all), then this year, 2008, would be my Peter Pan year. Growing up is passe as well as a thing of the remote future, whereas getting old is totally out of the question. For now, I am a teenager, and I'd like to enjoy this year as one, just as I would want to enjoy being one.

Oh, and by the way, for those who have been worried about the condition of my beloved memory card, which, as you know, got stuck in the card reader slot of my brand new laptop some three days ago, well, it has already been rescued yesterday, thanks to my dad and his two nifty little screwdrivers. Since then it is has been resting safely in my phone, never to be taken out again nor inserted into any card reader, not even the working ones, no way. No more card readers for me, never!

Happy --th birthday. :)

(I suppose you get it. Well, don't you?:lol:) ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?4997-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?4242-*-!-) Tue, 22 Jan 2008 03:13:03 GMT Oh, come on. You said you weren't afraid of anything at all. Or are you?

I made a new category. Apparently, the title itself is a warning. And you know that warnings have no use.

All my creepy stories shall go here. Freaky tales of emo people bleeding to death and writing goodbye notes in blood on mirrors. Fictitious accounts about people doing crazy things. Stories of the most spectacular balderdash. Yarns I have woven out of foolishness. Ghost stories. Fourth-rate tales of the paranormal. Allow them to scare the wits out of you. Oh, come on. You know they won't.

Nevertheless, welcome to the world of deadly nonsense. ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?4242-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?4212-*-!-) Mon, 14 Jan 2008 04:40:46 GMT I realized just this morning that I’ve been wasting so much of my time. Worst of all, I am not even taking any action. By now, I ought to be... I realized just this morning that I’ve been wasting so much of my time.

Worst of all, I am not even taking any action. By now, I ought to be alarmed. What good will procrastinating and doing practically useless things do me? I cannot afford to maintain the habit of putting off for tomorrow what I can do today even though tens of thousands of tomorrows await me. These will pass; and before I know it, I am shocked to whatever remains of me that I have not been able to do anything at all in my whole life. And for me, doing nothing at all and not exerting any single effort to make one’s presence be felt across the world is a waste of God-given breath, a terrible failure and yet another padlock on the gates of heaven.

I was not born ordinary. My childhood was, in reality, a spectacular one. I understood things far better than any child my age would. God probably had intentions for me upon deciding to make me that way, though I never realized that before.

I started school at age six, frustrated about having to start from the very beginning (learning how to count, add and subtract while I already knew some algebra) and having to use a different language in communicating with other kids who were interested only in forming clay animals, drawing on magic slates and playing with dolls. I didn’t understand them; neither did they understand me any better. I looked different from everyone else, being naturally fair-skinned and one of the few brown-haired people around, and acted pretty much different too. I showed no interest in things a typical six-year-old would enjoy. English was the only language with which I could talk straight; whenever I used our national language I would often get laughed at, for I kept mixing the words up and spelled the wrong way. I ended up becoming a bossy, disagreeable team member and a troublemaker in class. At first I felt left out. Then I felt hated. All in all, I felt terrible. It was then that I made my decision. I gave up my blessed life in exchange for an ordinary one, thinking that other kids wouldn’t accept me, that I was treated by the entire school community as a “curiosity” and not as a student who had gone there to study and not to be raved over by so-called “fans.” I remember even going as far as saying that “the real me” was my sister, as for some reason I was ashamed of having appeared in a TV commercial that compared little me to the prodigies in world history such as Da Vinci and Mozart.

Now, more or less one decade since the prime of my childhood life, I totally regret having spent eight years rejecting my true individuality and trying to be someone else who wasn’t me for the sake of blending in, not realizing that I would suffer from its consequences in later years. Today, I have scorched myself with the fire I myself have created, and I often end up questioning myself: what will I be doing for the rest of my life?

There are only two things I want to accomplish in my lifetime (should God ever decide to terminate it—yet I am still confident enough that He will bless me with long life provided I be good)—two coexistent aspirations: to live a meaningful life—“to live life to the fullest,” as the old cliché goes—and to make a difference in the world. To live a meaningful life (and yeah, live life to fullest), I must live up to who I really am, to who I was meant to be, and most importantly, to who I can be. There are no limitations to the latter. One can be the giant he wishes to be if he works his hardest to grow. And that is exactly what I plan to do. I want to be remembered by the world. For what? So far, I have no idea. Yet that is what I want to know. And I’m going to do something to achieve this.

My goal for this year is to be more productive, and even though I show no signs of achieving it (I’m not even close—why, I haven’t even started!), I’m going to at least try. And this time, I’ll make sure that my attempts amount to something, otherwise I can almost assure myself that I will never amount to anything in my entire lifetime, which is a total waste of what I really am. For this reason I am going to stop making promises; instead, I will start fulfilling those I had made long ago. I can ascertain that doing so will make a difference not only in the life I am living right now but also in the life I will be living soon—a huge difference, indeed, and a change for the good.

I will start encoding my new blog in the summer. For the mean time, I am going to stop causing a shock to the litnet community by bringing up newfangled ideas that are likely to be thought of as rubbish, as I am still not ready lest there be an uprising and threats to my stay in this wonderful place. Should that happen, I do not wish to flee. I’d hate to be disowned by my litnet family. I believe I started out well in litnet this year; and I want to maintain my positive standings, even though I may have messed it up a little by talking about politics in the blog section and trying to advocate something impossible and unwanted, also regarding blogs. On the bright side, I guess I’ve figured out the best thing to do: stop awhile and do something on my own rather than force others to do something for me. Right now I am scouting for a new blog hosting site where I can alter the skin of my page (thought I don’t even know how—but I suppose I can manage) and upload the “important” stuff such as videos—and lotsa great pics! I’m thinking I might pursue my blog in LiveJournal, or perhaps I’ll switch to Blogger, but these two sites have their own limitations too. I like the commenting system in LJ, yet the advanced customization feature isn’t that good, at least not as good as that of Blogger; yet the profiles on Blogger lack necessary depth and detail and the commenting system is one of the worst I’d ever encountered. I’m also considering Friendster as an alternative, yet Friendster isn’t as accessible as either of the two sites mentioned above (most schools—particularly ours—and internet cafes near the school zone have it blocked), and most especially litnet, the most accessible site among all I ever dare to access in school, being educational and all. For this particular reason, I have decided that even though my plans to blog outside of litnet are final and will certainly push through, I will not close down my blog here; instead, I will continue to import entries from my other blog through RSS and even make sole contributions to this blog, for litnet will always come first in my heart.

With this blog entry I put an end to procrastinating and dawdling on weekends, and open my eyes to the world and most especially to the niche I am fulfilling. This is who I am now, but in the future I am going to be great. I understand that I am no longer a child; hence the challenge will be much harder. Yet I will do my best to survive it. With great dreams comes great responsibility. And that includes not only passing, but toppling former records, in Math.

Two hours have passed since I started writing this entry. I could’ve done it faster, yet I chose to write on as time passed by, checking on my cell phone every now and then. Should I call this time wasted? Do my efforts end up futile?

You prove that this time. ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?4212-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?4146-*-!-) Mon, 07 Jan 2008 08:50:01 GMT It happened again-- last Friday, on the second day of classes and some three weeks after a got my new phone. I lost my money. It was in my... It happened again--
last Friday, on the second day of classes
and some three weeks after a got my new phone.

I lost my money.
It was in my wallet.
I left my bag outside the library because bags weren't allowed inside. Being accustomed to having no money most of the time, I left my wallet inside the bag. I went home confident that I did not lose anything, seeing as I taken my new phone inside the library with me so it wouldn't get stolen again as it did a few months ago. It wasn't until this morning that I found out that the hundred bucks that were in it were indeed gone. All that was left was a single five-buck coin, and it wasn't even in the right place.

My dad suspects that the thief knows me. Perhaps the kid knew that I had a new phone and thought he would find it there, but when he opened my bag and found it completely phone-less, he decided to attack my wallet instead. He took all the money with him, leaving behind only one coin for my bus fare home. It's a good thing he didn't notice my scientific calculator, otherwise he'd be two thousand bucks richer by now.

Moreover, my dad believes that this thief is the same thief who stole my cell phone. I believe he is right. If only I could install a spycam in front of the library of my school and set the kid up so he'd get kicked out. After all, people like him who are paid to study by the nation do not deserve the scholarship at all.

:flare:

Right now I am simply troubled. It should've been today; good thing she was absent. I don't want the time to come, but every time I try to kneel down to God and thank Him for sparing me another day in my wretched life, I always end up longing for the promised day. And I hate it even more than he hates me. :(

Last Thursday, I promised myself I would write about this. I know the explanation in this entry won't do. Therefore I will try my best to log in tonight and put all my thoughts and worries into writing (at last!). I know it's hard. But I'll do my best.

In the mean time, I'll tell you another story. This time, it isn't emo nor sad. :)

Last year, I posted an entry about my horrible life in school thanks to a certain Mr. A.P. who always seemed to find a way to ruin my day.

I like school—my wacky life in school, that is; and believe it or not I actually could’ve happened to love everything if not for the following things: 1) Mr. Attitude-Problem, chronological age: 14, mental age: 24, emotional age: 4; and 2) His Problem With His Ex-Girlfriend (who is one of my closest friends); 3) Misunderstandings—thus the dissolving of our clique (Mr. A.P. takes the blame!)
The two of us are best of friends today. :D

When I come back, I'll tell you how. :) ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?4146-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?4071-*-!-) Mon, 31 Dec 2007 14:33:41 GMT It's 7:12 PM right now, exactly 4 hours and 48 minutes before 2008. Working on this entry on the old laptop we've got while sitting comfortably in our living room. It really is comfortable, except for the loud noises outside. NOW people can start setting off their fireworks without worrying about a waste of money. My dad really likes fireworks, and right now it really surprises me why he's not on our balcony right now. Oh well. He's too busy cleaning one of our electric fans. There's an old superstition that says you should finish cleaning your house BEFORE the new year, otherwise all the good luck you've got will be washed and swept away.

Gawd, that kid sure can blow his horn.

Yeah, there are kids outside our home, kids from the neighboring townhouses, blowing their horns just outside our window. We don't have a lawn; only homes in huge subdivisions have lawns. Some people are roaming the subdivision making money by singing carols. They knock on your door if you don't give them money, an indirect way of soliciting bucks. Earlier ago a group of women came to our doorstep singing: "Feliz Navidad, Prospero Ano y Felicidad, I wanna wish you a Happy New Year from the Bottom of My Heart." Apparently the song was supposed to say "I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas," but these very creative people modified it for the occasion just to have a reason to solicit dough from every home. That's how business is done during the Christmas season. 5 to 15 bucks for every caroler. The same carolers every day.

Well, well, well.

Say, what happened in 2007 that moved my world and made a difference in my a-little-over-a-decade (nearing a decade and a half--woot!) life?

Number 1, I got to join litnet. How did I find it? I remember I was searching for information about the Heidi sequels by Charles Tritten as I couldn't seem to find any elsewhere, and because of my strong yearning to reply to the thread (started by Adelheid, I believe) I joined litnet. It so happened that Litnet was the forums site I'd always wanted to find--and join (in lieu of the AnneToon forums I joined several years ago--I was only ten then--to interact with other kids from different countries. I was one of the top posters when I stopped logging in, and when I logged on after three (?) years I found out that it was gone)! And I'm still participating frequently. Even though my character might change, as it did in the span of three months within this year, from lively-undecided-colorful-vintage-rock-inspired-youth to cheerful-lunar-loving-semi-emo to formerly-obsessed-now-lovelorn-emo to mature-passionate-black-as-a-color-to-express-sophistication-inspired-over-the-moon-full-fledged-emo with brand-new ideas and philosophies,
I am not changing my username and I will stand my ground on being MYSELF and the individual called ME, just like a mineral water bottle that stays the same even though the label is replaced.

(My mother is in the kitchen right now and she's just called to me to ask why I am no longer making my noise with my hi-fi mouth. Yeah, that's how loud I am at home. I told her I was writing.:))

What else? Well, I passed for the nation's premier high school. PSHS. Phil. Science High School. In short, Pisay. Though nobody had told me directly, I was aware that they looked up to me as the "flagbearer" of my elementary school when I took the first screening as I was the Top 1 of my batch. The test was NOT easy. In fact I had written in my diary just after the exam (I was writing all my diary entries to my crush then) that I was around 60 percent sure I wouldn't pass. Miraculously, I did; however, with an unconvincing score. Yet I was not discouraged. I studied hard in the summer and had my dad teach me algebra. December 2006, I took the second screening. And man, wasn't it EASY! Seven of us from our school made it. Three people from the waiting list came in too. I enrolled in May and now, here I am, struggling to pass Math which has always been my Waterloo. The good thing about Pisay is that you get a monthly stipend. The challenge is to pass every subject with flying colors, because Pisay is not like regular high schools where you are assured of your entire four years of schooling; you may get kicked out anytime, even right before you graduate. I am now studying my Math in advance, though, and hopefully I can make it to the Director's List at the end of this year. It's not impossible. All I have to do is pass Math.

I will not talk about the bad things that happened in 2007, so I will keep the moon out of this. For those who were not aware about my lunar obsession (a very annoying thing, indeed!), I shall tell you it is the short-lived romantic attachment I had to a guy in my class whom we have christened "the moon"on account of the pimples and chickenpox scars on his otherwise handsome face. The same is referred to by the so-called "My [C]s Romance," a plan for a collection of emo comics I had drawn at the height of my passion for the boy, who is five months younger than I am (yeah, I don't really like thinking about getting tied to younger guys, but I get hooked on them anyway) and VERY immature. I do want to say sorry (another New Year's Resolution of mine: "Quit posting pictures of the boys I like on Impress Presentations and quit trying to tell them "I love you" before they tell me! And avoid obviously unsuccessful romances! Especially one-sided ones!") but afterwards I will move on. Now see how I have broken my promise not to talk about bad things. *Sigh* I promise not to be miserable. I just hope nobody from Pisay reads this.

Okay, I admit. Somehow, 2007 was an unlucky year--for me. Well, not only for me, but also for my country. Damn that coup attempt. Why on earth did it have to fail? What'll become of us now? Three years of sufferig under a president who's so darn... Okay, this is politics now. I ought to stop. Besides, I'm not an expert at current events anymore. In science high, we are no longer required to mind the news. Because of this, many of us are extremely unupdated and don't seem to care about anything but *a particular TV series* and HSM, which, in my opinion, are juvenile. (That movie is for preteens, darn it!) You may have a different view on the subject; I respect that. This New Year, I promise to be good.

Exactly! Again, this 2008 I promise to be good.

Yes, 8 is my lucky number. I look forward to this year as a lucky year to me. And to make the best out of "all that luck," I must prove to the Supreme Being above that I am good and deserving of good things in return. That's the way it works with me. Though some people in my school are experts in picking pockets and stealing phones (ahem!) but still they manage to pass, I will not submit to temptation and be like them just because they are able to get away with it too. I am myself and will be whoever I want to be, and this time I want to be pure... yet still emo. Emo is my life. Optimism comprises my spirit and serves as my driving force to help me get through life successfully.

9:05 PM. Things are different today. People are in a festive mood. Everyone is wide awake. 2 hours and 50 minutes before we give each other the official greeting... HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Things have gone very well this December 31st. Except that yesterday our TV got busted and we can't watch the New Year countdown on our favorite channel. Oh well, at least I have my FOB "Under the Cork Tree" CD to play. Wahee!!! Dad's in the bathroom right now. I'll wait for him before I open the CD I bought only last Friday. Unfortunately, our hi-fi is broken. So I'll play in on this very laptop. We'll keep ourselves happy and lighthearted until midnight. Then we can indulge in the fruits... and the spaghetti... and the salad Mom prepared for us!!! Wahoo!!! I must not eat much... I must keep close watch on my weight... I must fit into my stage-play wardrobe on the day of the competition...

9:15 PM Goodness gracious! This entry is getting long. I must end this now... before I run out of time... believe it or not I've still got loads of stuff to do! Must compose a New Year's message for my friends... and say a little prayer... before attempting to apologize to the guy. Or... should I?

Hmmm!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!

P.S.
I did a very stupid thing this afternoon... I downloaded an AntiVirus software to my phone and set the installation language to Filipino, and now I can't change the language again... I was planning to uninstall it and download it again, but I don't know where to get the software. Even though I am very fluent in the language as I speak it everyday (for that's what everyone else speaks and I have no choice but to speak it, despite the fact that I grew up with English as my mothertongue and can express myself better with it) I still hate what I did--1) because it reminds me of our most uninteresting teacher who teaches the subject and talks in the same way, and 2) because it's extremely hard to read compared to English which is convenient to the eye. I hope this will not make me hate my phone because really, wanting a new phone almost every quarter of a year is indeed tiring, not only to the pocket but also to the brain, as it fills your mind with discontent and makes it much "bulkier," thus distracting you from your studies or whatever you must do. I just bought my phone last week (warranty ended yesterday) and I like it very much; I want to keep it until I graduate from high school. As you see, coming first in my list of New Year's Resolutions is to stop being so materialistic, now that I know it won't take me anywhere. That is why I bought this phone--to put an end to my dissatisfaction. Now that all I'll ever need to do in order to make my phone "new" again is to update its operating system from time to time and keep it scratch-free, I hope I may now start focusing on other more important things rather than the material goods I do not have. Still, if someone could tell me where I can download an F-Secure Antivirus Application for Symbian OS on S60 Platform (basically ANY F-Secure Antivirus Application) I would be the happiest person on Earth this New Year. Hah, just kidding. But really, I would rejoice! ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?4071-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?3666-*-!-) Fri, 16 Nov 2007 08:53:17 GMT My mom now knows about my cell phone. I told her about it last night before going to bed, and thank God she didn't get mad. Instead, she simply told me to keep looking for it and face my dad bravely when the time finally comes for me to tell it, and perhaps that is today. In a very motherly way she cautioned me that the incident was likely to make him lose trust in me. However, I choose to take this in a very grown-up way. ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?3666-*-!-) #@*%! :) https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?3636-*-!-) Tue, 13 Nov 2007 04:32:46 GMT I was in a rather bad mood earlier ago, perhaps on account of the horrible grade I got in Math (it’s a good thing my dad didn’t get mad at me... I was in a rather bad mood earlier ago, perhaps on account of the horrible grade I got in Math (it’s a good thing my dad didn’t get mad at me yesterday even though he had the whole day to do so—I wonder if he’s even seen it at all), or the dreadful events in my love life, the bitter truth that he wont take notice of me at all, leave alone talk to me the way he used to before, back in the hope-filled CompSci days. He glances at me occasionally, though, in SocSci especially from his seat on the other side of the room; and every single time he does I grow anxious. Stuck in the same situation in the good old days, I would've been freaked out. However, times have changed. I am worried—about the thoughts brewing up in his mind, whatever they are, I do not know; about the evil plans he has for me, and the romantic notions that never really existed at all in the first place.

Having written these words yesterday sometime 7 o’ clock in the morning right in the middle of my first-period class, obviously I had no idea what would happen that afternoon, especially that PE time. Right now we are doing softball in PE; and I call him ‘my favorite softball player,’ knowing how Sir had given his trust to him when he was called on to demonstrate pitching and catching from the very start—and pray, he was good. It went like this—we were told to divide ourselves into two teams, each consisting of 15 members, based on class number—one group of even-numbered people and the other of odds. Being the 26th lucky/unlucky person in the official class list, I wound up in the team of evens; while he whose class number was the beloved number 4 wound up in the same team too. Since my closest friends were all bundled up with the opponent, I didn’t get along very well with my teammates, particularly him—though by then I was beginning to see nothing in him but that excessive macho attitude which was starting to melt my bones (in both bad and good ways—I couldn’t even understand why I saw or felt anything good about that). I could hardly breathe, let alone move freely and poised as I would with my best friends. Things got worse when the popular guy recommended him for the spot of team captain, which he immediately won having earned the favor of everyone else thanks to Mr. Macho Popular. Upon “formal” announcement of his ascension to the post, one of my classmates jokingly “congratulated” him by saying, “Para kiligin si Kit! (For Kit to be in love),” and telling by the look in his face he was irritated that he threatened to kick the poor guy in the shin. I just stood there, unable to comprehend the reason why he got so offended when in fact it was the truth that he was being admired, though I pretended not to care. He is simply too macho, even more macho than our popular guy, true to the definition: stereotypically masculine; having or showing characteristics conventionally regarded as male, especially physical strength and courage, aggressiveness, and lack of emotional response—this time, not in a good way. He got over it right away, though, as if he didn’t care much either, and went on assigning jobs to his members. I followed him secretly, just so I could hear him more clearly, and watched as he gestured to people and getting them in proper position. “You guys are the outfielders. Jerson, stay there. Dorreen, you’re third at bat. Bex (he calls her by her formal name contraction, though), stay right here. You—“ he gestured at me lamely, not even looking up from his paper, “—go there.” He said it with such bland force I could not help getting hurt. I simply nodded, pretending once more not to care. Resuming his work, he moved away from me, taking it for granted that I still existed. “Now Iego.. Joseph…” Everyone before and after me, he had called by their proper names and treated with respect. Am I really that… worthless… now? He trudged on. I sighed, picking up my bags and trotted to the other side of the room where the opposing team was discussing. Seeing that my friend didn’t have much to do, I ran to her and poured out all my emotions. I didn’t cry, however—no, love was something I never cried about—I said each thing with a scream and a laugh, and an occasional stomp, but in a rather joyful way. Such a method of release would never fail me.

The worst thing happened at strike of dismissal bell. Overjoyed and determined to finish my SocSci homework which I purposely did not pass on account of not being printed and lacking definitions (which I didn’t finish anyway, being too busy with litnet and boosting posts), I went to the library, leaving my bags behind (as bags were not allowed inside, which is sort of a bad idea), including my phone. I remember taking it out after PE time, deciding to text a friend about my situation in my team with him, and then putting it back again considering that I had already said what was to be said and repeating it in detail would make the story dull and uninteresting, though I knew it still wasn’t enough. As far as I remember I paid no attention to it afterwards and almost completely neglected it, thus I have no idea what happened to it. I never cared much about that phone anyway, after deeming it rubbish and all that and deciding that it be sold. So I lost it. Now, I don’t know what to do. “Which is very stupid of you,” I can just imagine my parents saying. “How irresponsible you are.” As of today, my dad and I are the only people home, my mom being away on travel, so I’ve decided (and risked) not to tell, hoping that maybe tomorrow I might find it somewhere, yet that idea is vague, considering that someone has already gotten his hands on the phone (I called it, and someone kept on pressing the “Reject” button whenever I tried to give it a ring–and yet that phone was in silent mode the last time I laid my hands on it!!!) so I’m thinking of ways to break the news to my mom, who will be home tired for sure. Honestly, I have no idea what this means. I just knew I’d be better off as a dormer. But I’m not. And besides they don’t trust me, knowing how irresponsible I am and how often I lose things.

Now, I need three things: 1) a laptop; 2) a calculator that is capable of solving algebraic expressions (a graphing calc, maybe?); and now, 3) A new phone, which they will never give me. They’ll tell me to use my old ruined phones (I’ve got three more, but for heaven’s sake they don’t work well) and make me “taste the consequence.” But if I prove something to them, then perhaps that might change…

On second thought, however, I don’t think my mom will take it very nicely either if I tell her (and her only) the bad news. In fact it was she who reprimanded me so when I almost lost my glasses; good thing my friends were able to find them. But if I don’t tell them, they’ll keep on asking why on earth do I not reply and can’t I be more responsible and they’re sure to find out in time. It’s a relief I have another SIM, which is registered to my least-preferred network, yet that’s the best thing I can do. As for now, I will have to content myself with sneaking my dad’s phone (which isn’t that hard, considering that I’ve done this so many times including last night without being noticed, but only for important reasons; though I’ll have to agree that it is quite risky indeed) and deleting the stolen phone’s number. Of course, prayer remains the best remedy, and so is hoping that I might finally get in touch with the robber (whom I suppose must be a student in my school) and persuade him to give the phone back. My, I never knew Science High students could be that bad and still actually pass. In my case, the karma is always visible in my report card whenever I do something terrible (such as being over-obsessed with a guy, pilfering prepaid load—which I just did, and other petty faults.)

In case they ever find out, which they might—they should, seeing that it is I who wishes to tell them in case hope happens to set on me and I never see my phone again—I wonder what's going to happen?

Oh God, is this a punishment you have imposed on me after catching me doing wrong? If so, I have no choice but to accept it, and I will wholeheartedly; I don't mean to object, either, if that is Your choice then so be it, I understand that I have wronged, but where? I can hardly remember doing anything bad, and besides I have already asked forgiveness for all my sins. Have my prayers not been enough? Tell me, dear God, is it a sign? What of? Am I not in the right school for me? But my parents... *sigh* Is it a challenge? Then I accept it and promise to live through it. Please, God just tell me what it really is!

And tell me, oh God, why can't I live in better luck... ]]> RoCKiTcZa https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?3636-*-!-)