When they hate you like crazy

Two Words: It sucks!

I remember the first time someone spoke ill to me.

She was my classmate’s younger sister.

She treated me with such venomousity that I couldn’t understand.

I shouldn’t have understood it, but I tried.

It was a good decision.Because it gave me a reason to understand the human psychology, A 

topic close to my heart.

The saying “You cannot please everybody” never wrung true for me. In my mind, I knew I 

could be likeable. I knew I could make everyone love me.

I never knew I was a making a blasted mistake.

Blasted, but helpful.

It took me years, years and years to understand it. Finally at 21, I understood what it takes 

to be “You can’t please everybody.”

An anonymous officemate harassed me through text messages. I received below the belt 

messages and I wondered “How” and “why”.

I could have saved myself from the drama, but I didn’t. The experience has taught me a 

valuable lesson:

•           Never give your personal number
•           When they don’t matter, their negative criticisms don’t matter.
•      Stay away when you see the first signs of a black smoke.

No matter how much sugar coating I do, hearing that someone doesn’t like you hurts.

The feeling is similar to a large termite stuck in your chest, clawing itself out.

But you’ll recover. 

Rejection Quest: A tale of dealing with rejection

"To cure a arachnophobia, you must immerse yourself in a sea of spiders."

"...Are you stupid, or what?..."

Rejection, a 3 syllable word with a bitter taste on my lips. 

I have hated it from the moment I was born. 

It sucks. It's an unpleasant feeling.

People tell you how important it is to be rejected, but truth is, no one wants to be rejected!

To be rejected means you're trash. 

And it sucks, big time. 

A long time ago, I didn't want to be rejected. This led me to reject people first, simply because I didn't want them to pull in on me first.

Before you get me, I'll get you first!

Flawed logic, yes? 

But I'm not the only one.

(cite a study)

Someone told me that it's embracing our rejections and failures that enable us to grow.

I have  poor pain tolerance and I'm supposed to embrace it?

 bullshit.

One sultry afternoon, I was looking for an online writing job. 

I looked at the bulletin and saw several requests. 

I emailed one, and guess what?

I received not a single response.

I didn't include a sample, so I drafted one, praying that someone would bite it. 

Still none. 

The next day, I emailed each request, and guess what?

Still none.

At that moment, with childlike glee, a thought flickered in my head.

"This is rejection. Why not collect them and allow me to be used to it? I can be immune to rejection later on. The benefit? I can go for what I want without being afraid."

The next day, I responded to requests and still, received no responses. 

Either I need to improve my copy writing skills, or I need to create a writing portfolio. 

Either which, I have embarked on a Rejection Quest.

A tale of making fun of myself and improve by collecting and develop immunity against rejection. 

Are you interested in taking this quest with me?

Let the journey begin!

The Ultimate Guilty Pleasure: Writing Fan Fictions

"After all this time?"

"Always"

- Albus Dumbledore to Severus Snape, Harry Potter Series

Another story idea flash in my head.

I knew this was one of those rare story ideas where I knew how it would start, what would 

happen in between and how it would end.

The twist?

It is a Final Fantasy VIII fan fiction.

Yes, I am investing my imagination and creative writing skills in another company owned 

franchise.

When I was younger, and highly active in the creative scene, a friend once told me to ditch 

fancomics, and write my original stories.

If I really wanted to, I could.

But writing fan fictions... is an itch that begs to be scratched!

As what Snape replied to Dumbledore, "Always".

It's an itch that will never go away, until I scratch it!

How do I scratch it? I write it in black and white. I post and share it online.

It's the only way. It's the only way to put the itch at ease.

Recently, I have started to write fan fiction again. (Never mind if it's owned by Square Enix. 

The idea want to be born!)

1. Final Fantasy VIII - Your Eyes on Me

What the Galbadian General wants, the General gets...even if it means eliminating his beloved's true love. 

The untold love story between Julia, Laguna and yours truly, Fury Caraway.

Yes, it is cheesy. My second english teacher asked  me  and a classmate to revise the

cheesy intro to a play we wrote. Well, I like it cheesy! 

I've already written chapters 1 & 2. This one is estimated to be 6-7 chapters long.

Runner Up:

2. Wild Arms 2- Cocytus

Before they were terrorists, they were humans with issues. 

An anthology of the Odessa's Generals before joining Vinsfeld Rhadamanthus,

the aftermath of the advent of the Kuiper Belt core and Lord Blazer.

In 2010-2012, I created a webcomic and fanfiction entitled  "A Bittersweet Affair" 

chronicling Antenora's story. 

I never finished either version, but the story is still itching to be written. 

This itch expounded to create backstories for the other generals.

I'll work on this after I finish "Your Eyes on Me", or possibly,  a new FF8 fiction 

"My Eyes on You" focusing on Raine, Laguna and Julia's story.

So why focus on fan fiction?

It's simple. 

I've decided a few months ago that when I die, I would like to reflect and say 

"Yes, I wrote these stories. And I'm proud to have written them."

So I will write. I will write. I will persist to write.

Until I have scratch the itch called "Creating Fan fiction."

A Chameleon with No Ambition

"You have no ambition."

I was not surprised. No ouch or anything. I just laughed.

Deep down, I knew it.

She was like a polished mirror who revealed what I had rejected all along.

"You have no ambition, whereas he has the ambition to be a General. But you're the kind who's okay with anything. You're not the choosy. If you were to select a wardrobe, you'd pick anything, whereas he would carefully choose his."

"You're the type of person who can play the role of a poor and rich girl. You know how to adjust. *Kung pobre, kaya mong makibagay. hindi ka namimili. Pero kung mayaman, kaya mo talagang makili-level at kumilos ng mayaman."

*translation: you can mingle with those less fortunate than you. you can also mingle with those way above you on the income level

(the context of the conversation involved a guy I dated in late 2015)

***

Great, so I'm a chameleon with no ambition. 

Am I supposed to be proud of that, or what?

That explains why, ever since as I was young as 6, I didn't know what I exactly wanted to be.

My classmates wanted to be policemen, doctors, successful people.... and I just picked whatever were parents were.

Before, I wanted to be a comic book artist and a videogame developer. Suddenly I wanted to be a writer. 

My ambitions, or a lack of ambition thereof, is like a double-edged sword.

On one end, it gives me the flexibility to adapt. On the other end, I look like a Jack-Of-All-Trades-yet-master-of-none.

I envy people who know what they want, and pursue what they want. I really envy the ones who have the guts to realize their dreams. 

They aren't just dreaming dreams , they are MATERIALIZING their dreams!

Dreams? 

Even my dreams aren't ambitious. 

Just low-key ones.

I dream of the day I will stop working, the day where my little green employees savings will work and multiply themselves for me, the day I can wake up and do whatever I want, the day I don't have to worry about living paycheck to paycheck.

But that's b*llsh*t. We live to work.

Well, at least it's an ambition, nevertheless, yes?

A Tale of Two English Teachers

Once upon a time, I had 2 English Teachers. 

The first one loved me. 

The second one hated me. 

One loved my writing and told me about it. I was flattered. God knows what I wrote for her like it. 

But the second one... my God, she told me my writing gave her a headache!

Not only did she tell it to me, but she also blurted it in front of the class. I was so embarrassed!

That incident made me doubt my capability to write. 

***

We all have these people: those who love you, and those who absolutely hate you. 

You can't please two masters at the same time. 

You will either love one, or hate the other. 

In my case, I hated the second one, not because she told me my writing was horrible and gave her a headache, but with the way she told it to me.

We need to deal and accept these people.

They don't like you and what you can or will do. 

Period. 

Yet it also humbles me to know that I have been someone's "hated person". 

Their black sheep. The bane of their existence. The pain in their neck.

The truth hurts. It's hard to swallow, especially when someone tells you about it or gossip tells you.

                What do you do with the ones who love you?

                                  Thank them. 

                    Genuine friends are hard to come by. Value and treasure these kind of people.

                What do you with the ones who hate you?

                               Pray for them, if you're a religious person.

                 But how about for those who seek a non-religious answer?

                                  Thank them as well.

                     Because these people ground you and make you humble. 

                     You can't please everybody, and they can't please everybody. 

Once upon a time, I had 2 English Teachers.

Despite my unpleasant experience with the second one, I know that I'm still grateful to her.

I learned that I still have a wide room for improvement. 

For as long as I live, I will persist.

So thank you, my Second English Teacher, for telling me that my writing gave you a headache.

Have you thanked your own second english teacher?

A ray of hope

When was the last time I've posted in this blog?

I took a hiatus from this blog, only to be active in another forum.

I've had crazy and life-changing experiences while I was out.

So why did I come back?

Simple.

Because I've posted a lot in here, it's too much of a hassle to start another one.

AND my office mate has inspired to blog before I purchase my own domain name.

It's good to be back. It's good to have your own space in the world wide web.

Adios!

I'm ditching this blog. I should have written this blog post a couple of weeks ago.
But I never had the time. Or should I say, I never made time.

Why quit?

I should start Why I began this blog.

Because I wanted to. I wanted to have a body of work---Writing work. I wanted to create my own space online. I had my own visual space online in deviantart. But I left.

I wrote last year to document my the recent happenings in my life.

I now write to share my thoughts.

....and it's precisely why I'm sharing my thoughts that I'm saying goodbye to this blog.

Ah, but I'm starting a new blog anyway.

What's the difference? Why start a new blog when I'm just going to do the same thing?

Privacy. Anonymity. 

Yep, I won't use my real name anymore.

But why?

Privacy. Anonymity. 

***

2015 was a roller-coaster year for me. A year full of new beginnings and endings:
I left my old job for a new job. I was rejected a US Visa. I ended a long year friendship. I started to study in graduate school. I listened to someone confess. I was burdened on how to handle the confession (should I tell or not). I decided not to interfere in another party's problems. I met someone whom I wanted to have a future with, and a few months later, that person now must go away because of the nature of his job. I met new friends. I started to have an interest in home-making. I started to take watercolor painting lessons. I started to have new dreams. I started to hope. I decided to stop chasing creativity and just, LIVE.

Our GS 101 teacher asked us during our first day, "What symbol would best represent you, and why did you choose that?" 

I answered "Sketchpad. Because it's full of possibilities, like me! I'm also full of possibilities."

So before I fill out that sketchpad, I must close this the old sketchpad. It's full. there are no more pages. I can't believe I'm writing this... but maybe it's a ritual.

Yeah, a ritual.

So adios,mi blog!

'Til I write to revive you again!