Cat Kills The Curiosity

My brother is the worst, I tell you. I have done a lot of things for him. I turn him down ONCE, then he says I’m worthless. It ain’t even for me, not one bit. I remember going to Dang Wa ALONE UNDER THE SCORCHING SUN to buy HIS GIRL a rose. I get home and he throws the rose in the trash, saying it looks like trash. What the actual fuck. Now he wants me to ask in behalf of him for the status of his 2nd choice entrance test in my university. I don’t attend trainings anymore lately because of the damn plates, I need my time. If he wants to know REALLY BADLY if he passed, he’d do it himself, no matter how far the school is for him. That’s called determination. I don’t think he knows that. I don’t think he knows the word GRATITUDE either.
I should die now.

Napuno lang ako tapos trigger ko si Sir Pineda. Buong thesis week wala akong pahinga. Tinapos ko lahat tapos akala ko Sunday rest day ko pero nastress din ako dahil sa report at sa work na binibigay sakin ng kapatid ko. Tapos akala ko pag nagreport tayo, tapos na. Nakakaasar lang kasi sobrang laging hindi nakikita yung efforts ko. Siguro totoo yung sinabi ng kapatid ko, sa movie sinong production manager, script writer or costume designer ba ang sumisikat? Wala. Pero sa ganitong behind the scenes ako nageenjoy eh. Tapos feel na feel ko na ayaw ako ni Sir Pineda. May list ako ng requirements niya na sinabi niya nung first meeting, isampal ko yun sa mukha niya eh. Tapos nung tinawag niya yung mga leaders, nalaman niyang ako ang leader ng group 3. Tapos papatawag niya sakin si “Ms. Yason” para siya nalang makinig. Ganun ba ako ka walang kwenta? Kayo nga magsabi sakin? Wala ba akong kwentang tao?

Last Friday our class got cut-in by the guidance counselor. She was gonna conduct a psychology test. The fucking test freaked me out. I was like “How do I answer these shit” because they were all “I like people” or “When bad things happen, I hurt myself” and you’re supposed to answer with never, rarely, sometimes, often and almost always. And I just don’t know whether to lie or to tell the truth. When we scored it, I compared mine with the others and I’m just like “Why is mine so different and theirs are all the same” then apparently my results were the shouldn’t be results. After explaining the meaning of the scores she discussed a little about depression and a lot about suicide and I’m just like “No, fucking stop iiiiittt I don’t want to hear it anymore”. I don’t know, I was just so scared. I felt like they were going through inside my head. And, ugh. I don’t know. Do I have depression? Am I suicidal? Since that day, it kept on bugging me. Am I not normal? I don’t want to think anymore.

I think artists, especially those who don’t know they’re one, should treat everyone like a client.

We had dinner tonight with an Aunt whom I drew a drawing of. You know, when a person discovers your “talent” in drawing and wants you to draw him/her. A while ago, there was a guest. He was hyped when he knew I was into the world of art. He asked me to draw him. I was going all nervous because he was a Taiwanese and suddenly spoke really good English. So a little while later I started drawing him. The time I’m finishing up the drawing, I was kind of distracted because I can hear what they’re talking about- a Singaporean art collector who is finding Filipino artists. When I thought I was done, my Uncle got ahold of it and showed it to everyone. It was given back to me to be signed. So I did that and gave it to the guest. He asked for a paper for cover, to prevent the artwork from smudging. I was about to rip off a clean page from my sketch pad when my bro told me to give him the cardboard - the back part - of the sketch pad. So I gave it to him (I was gonna buy a new one, anyway). Then, I realized, what I did was wrong.

I should’ve given it to him already with the sign and the cover, and shoud’ve taken the picture before I showed it to them. I didn’t treat him like a client, I treated him as someone who’s asking for a drawing. It was unfair because HE treated me professionally, and I didn’t.

Obviously, I don’t have enough experience. I was intimidated because he seemed and acted like someone who was in the art industry, but I didn’t realize it sooner.

At least, from this, I learned.

I know I should be happy and excited but I’m not.

Classes started 3 weeks ago. Tomorrow is my first day of class. I did everything to get myself enrolled but I actually felt like I didn’t want to study anymore. I pushed it through when I saw my dad’s sadness, when he realized I will be wasting a whole year if I don’t enroll for this sem. I felt sad for him, so I kept telling myself “For my dad, for my dad”.

3 weeks of classes missed. 3 weeks of classes to catch up. If I hadn’t pushed it through and instead just told my dad “Aaw, I was just really late and out of deadline, sorry”, I wouldn’t be waking up 6 in the morning for class tomorrow.

Why am I so damn lazy.

I’m so afraid of other people’s opinion, of their judgement. I don’t know why it’s hard for me to ignore it. The way they look at me. Ugh. I know they hate me. But if I quit now, wouldn’t I be a quitter? Is it right for me to run away? But one key to happiness is to NOT hang out with people who bring you down. They don’t actually bring me down but I know they talk about me. I know it because they talked to me about other people. But when the person who’s being talked about is present, it’s as if nothing happened. Should I quit? Because I can’t commit anymore. I know they hate me.

This is what I don’t like about vacations

I get crazier and crazier by the minute. I don’t have anyone to talk to, not that I actually talk when I’m with my friends (blockmates), it’s just that when I’m with them, I can forget everthing and just laugh. They’re kinda like my antidepressants. We don’t do serious things. There isn’t a minute we don’t joke around. Even at the most serious moments, we don’t take it seriously. That’s how good they are to me. Oh God, I miss them.