Ships of Relation

Beginning time: 3:50AM

I don't think I fully understand where to begin. I probably will blather on incessantly, losing all .5 of my readers. I guess I need to start out with an introduction, followed by my thesis. After that, I will pursue some body paragraphs and conclude in a quasi-corny fashion. I'll probably try to write a poem or sonnet of some sort. I don't know how long it'll take, and I'll probably get distracted along the way. But I guess this is where I begin.

Relationships are difficult, fickle things. They have a dual nature: They can bring you up to the highest of levels, or take you down as the weakest of beings. Having a lover will destroy you or will make you the best person that you have ever been in your life. The best relationships are the ones that last forever. Till death do they part. Yet, for lovers anew and oftentimes lovers old, many aspects of a relationship are overlooked. A relationship is monumentally difficult to maintain, and sometimes the ease of getting in a relationship overshadows the difficulty of keeping it.

But isn't it worth it? Doesn't having someone you can hold, someone upon which you can dote, some person you can call your own worth all the flak that accompanies the struggle? Aren't they wonderful the memories you can share, the times at which you can laugh?

Surely, over time you will forget a few memories here and there. You can't always recall the specific details, and even if you could, you can never really recapture the same feelings of the same moment. You will never have the same experience twice, and ultimately, you don't want to. Each moment you share with your significant other is unique, regardless of the emotion attached to it. Your angry moments and your blissful moments together create an amalgamation of your experience. The relationship happens for a reason, always. No matter how bitter the end is, or how eternal the feeling is, the relationship existed for the sole purpose of happiness. At one point, there was happiness.

This spark is the lifeblood that fuels the world. It is premature to love, a weaker form if a form at all. This spark of happiness is the definition of hope. Hope is the possibility of happiness. Where there is a memory of happiness, there is hope for humanity. We don't even need love. We just need each other.

So when heartbreak strikes, know that there is always hope.

I was searching around the vast majestic realms of the Internet for a prayer catered to the broken hearted. Alas, I came upon none, so I decided to write one myself. If God exists, then He wants solace for all walks of life, doesn't He? Heartbreak is a part of life and an unhappy part at that. I guess this is more of a reason for us to remember that God exists in all aspects of life, especially the difficult parts. He's always there for us to find him.



A Prayer for Heartbreak

Lord, I am helpless.
Vulnerable and shaken.
My faith slumbers and needs you
Once again to waken.

Lord, I am troubled.
Your loving arms have told me
To accept my flaws and my pain
To keep them since they mold me.

Lord, the demons of my nature
Have bid me into pain.
I'm suffering so silently.
I've nothing else to gain.

Lord, my sadness swells within me.
My tears have grooved my cheeks.
Though I sit tacitly and sadly,
My agony still speaks.

Lord, I am dying.
I am crying, not denying.
I am fighting for a happy end
I am fighting, I am vying.












Amen.

I gotta start letting it go.

End time: 5:47AM

Edit.
Thanks, ft =)

Time on Red Bull

It's 4:15AM, and I'm still awake. This post will probably the one An Vy reads first, since she will have probably caught her eye on her name at the top. So I guess I should make this one good? ;)

So it's 4:15AM, and I find myself idly refreshing Facebook. I'm adding new friends from the right module on the Newsfeed page. You know, the one under the "People You May Know" headline.

That's how lame I am. I want to sleep so badly, but my schedule's all messed up now. I watched a movie yesterday night (morning) and it kept me awake until half past 5 in the morning. It was well worth it though, considering how much I had wanted to see it in theaters last year, but never got around to it.

It was Dan in Real Life with Steve Carrell and Juliet Binoche (and Dane Cook too, but I'll comment on that in a second.) I loved the movie. It seemed like it could have been made 30 years ago and been considered a classic, but alas, it was made in this day and age. So, to a lot of people, it'll seem cliche and contrived. It will also seem fake and unrealistic, like a typical Hollywood film. But this movie was very down-to-earth, very low-key.

There were lots of flaws though, like the lack of depth of the family members (probably due to the short running time of the film). Also, the music was a bit unnecessary, though extremely well-written on their own. Sondre Lerche is an amazing musician. Moreover, the film was very contrived in its plot elements, the way the story unraveled. The writing must have been edited by a producer looking to make money, since the script obviously tried diligently to appeal to a large audience. This sacrifice was overall detracting in the direction of the film's story, but it was not as noticeable as some critics made it seem. Plus, the acting was wonderful, the chemistry between Carrel and Binoche surprisingly smooth, like chocolat (sorry, I had to...). As for the supporting cast, Dane Cook is a surprisingly not bad actor and is funnier when he's not cursing or making vulgar jokes like his stand-up. He's not a very good stand-up comedian, his jokes being stale at best, but his presence was welcoming, sharing the screen well with Carrell. The rest of his family could probably be considered one character for all the use they have in the plot's progression. They did, however, work well to show the amount of love in the family. The large size of the immediate family really was impressive in its goal to emphasize the ensemble nature of family love. Simply seeing them do things as a whole unit was heart-warming, if a bit unrealistic.


Overall though, the film's general tone was so warm that it easily balanced out all the obvious flaws. Had those flaws not existed, the film would rank among my all-time favorites. Yet, even as it is, Dan in Real Life makes my list for 2007.

Speaking of which, my Top 10 List of 2007 has been deleted from Yahoo. I mean, it's another one of those things that no one reads (not unlike the words you're reading right now), but the fact that I spent time on it just to have it deleted really annoys me. I have to do it all over again...

Now, on to the petty details of my day: I woke up this afternoon and did nothing worth noting...

Then, after a blissful conversation, I proceeded to go on Facebook. Much to my chagrin, I found that my dear friend Christian DeGuzman had bought two-thirds of my friends on the Friends for Sale application. I then engaged in a short FFS skirmish, buying back all my friends multiple times. Christian was a formidable opponent, and like any other formidable opponent, he agreed to a truce with me. We decided to split the "pets," as they are so dubbed. He kept a few, while I kept others. Then we agreed never to buy from each other again, so as to maintain a certain level of civility between two obviously upstanding members of the FFS community.

However, less than 5 minutes after the truce, I refresh my main page on FFS and find that someone else was buy friends from me. I found myself first embroiled in indignation, and then humor at my indignation. This humor quickly receded into determination to buy my friends back. This person was none other than Peterson Rooster Lim, Christian's roommate. How dare he? They were MY property, and he had no right buying them from me.

I quickly checked the cash amounts both of us had, and it looked like he and I were to battle until I ran out of money. And so, the epic war raged on.

After 15 minutes or so of buying back our mutual friends, I complained to Christian, who was happily building up his own collection without me as a hindrance. He first laughed it off, probably thinking I deserved as much for being greedy, but then, he came up with the perfect idea.

He told me to buy Kate Salazar, Peterson's girlfriend whom I was sure he coveted. At first, I was skeptical, worried that Peterson would buy my own girlfriend, but Christian quickly doused the flames of my doubt. Christian, being the good friend he was, had already tried to buy my girlfriend in order to stop me from starting a war with him, but, much to his surprise, he was unable to buy her because she was not his friend on Facebook. So, Christian told me, buying Kate would not bear any financial risk on my part.

So I bought her. Every time you buy a person on FFS, his or her value increases, so that the next time, the cost of buying the person is larger, sometimes significantly so for more expensive pets. The extra money goes as a profit to the owner of the pet. For example, say I buy Peterson for $560. If Christian wants him, he has to pay $580, with the extra $20 going to me as a profit. If I want to buy Peterson back, I have to pay $610, with Christian receiving $580 (the price he bought Peterson) plus a $30 profit.

After a while, Kate was the only one Peterson and I were vying for, since I just wanted her to profit from all his money and buy Christian and Sean back. Since I had bought a few more pets earlier that day, Peterson had the upper hand, eventually buying out Kate for more than I could buy back. I didn't mind that much, since I could now buy Sean. However, I forgot to buy Christian, and Christian was terribly angry with me. "You have to buy me back!" he told me aggressively online. "She's worth more than me!"

So after everyone signed off, I got more money (via a secret method I shall not reveal here, just in case). I then bought Kate, Christian and Sean. By this time, I had accumulated so much money I was able to by Wanda Lam and Tracey Tran, for $21k and $14k, respectively.

I don't want to keep them. I just want some people to buy them so I can make a few thousand dollars profit.

And now I'm blogging about it.

Crash and Burn

The weather in Southern California today ranged from 90-95 degrees. This scorching temperature was also matched in Stockton and, evidently, in Dubai as well. I am sure in many places around the world, desert domain or no, the sun made its presence known.

However, where I reside, "in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley" as it was dubbed by Jack London, it was a breezy 77 degrees. The sun shone brightly, smiling warmly on the Bay Area, while elsewhere it vented, fuming in anger, embroiling its victims in the fires of its wrath. The Silicon Valley enjoyed a spring afternoon, unmarred by heat or humidity.

But I denied the call of the wild today. A perfect day to prance and frolic as a child might, and I opted to stay indoors. I failed to leave the confines of the home once, waking up before noon and simply, aimlessly walking around my house until the bed called me a few minutes ago. My father woke me up startlingly around 11pm, much earlier than I had wanted. Those who know me can attest to my penchant for afternoon continuations of my beauty rest. I can easily sleep until 3-4pm on a daily basis. So, you can imagine my disgruntlement when my father insisted I get up to "help him with the cabinets," and being my father, he knew I was not allowed any objection. I got up and brushed my teeth, and I then proceed downstairs to breakfast, which only consisted of a rather large bowl of Frosted Flakes ('twas more than good).

I spent the next hour or so trying to fill the bumps in the back of the cabinets with wood filling. It was not a difficult job, but it was a bit annoying having to reach up the walls of the cabinets and making sure all the indentations were filled.

Anyways, the important thing is that I didn't leave the house today. I made no effort to step outside and enjoy the day with which the Lord blessed me. Normally, during the school year, I would come home on weekends and spend a good 45-52 at home, studying, but today, there was no studying involved. There was just intense Facebook browsing, followed by Facebook application cleansing, occasionally dabbed with Facebook video-making/dedicating.

But I do not, can not and will not blame Facebook for my failures. If I must blame, and if indeed I have failed, then I blame myself.

I was thinking that I made strides with my mentality today, getting some menial tasks done that I have been too long in putting off, but I realize now that maybe I don't try hard enough to stay focused.

I have been wanting for a long time now to write a poem that was bone-chillingly gnawing. I want to write something that will call to the hearts of people and force them to embrace the sadness that is in their lives, even and especially if their lives are happy.

As the Spanish philosopher Miguel de Unamuno claims as his personal creed, "My religion is to seek for truth in life and for life in truth, even knowing that I shall not find them while I live."

So here I am to seek on.



A thousand plans have gone awry
Ever since the shepherd spoke.
And all the world and people's strength
Have weakened or have broke.

In weekly tributes humans kneel,
Community is served,
But we are still ensnared to life
And live by holy word.

Even though we live by day
Our nights do come indeed
We gossip and we have to play
Tempted always by our greed

Our flaws that gnaw us to the bone
Our cardinals, our sins
Are mortal, fatal, undeterred
As Satan counts his wins.

The devil is an angel too
As we must not forget
There's so much wrong that we can do
Our sins we do abet.

But the purpose here is not to scare
Or sound so grossly black
I'm trying just to convey
A feeling that I lack.

There is no word to say it
for lacking brings it forth
the feeling i have lacked
replaced in lacking's worth.

Since I lack this feeling,
I feel another pang,
Tenfold in painful measure
A tune that Lucifer once sang.

Like the scarabs in my bones,
have crawled into my skin
And finding veins so plump
They drank me from within

Like frostbite in my soul
Freezing, but not numb
Ensuring I am feeling
throbbing like a drum

Like fire in my skull
a chamber burning, heated head
I am in eternal pain
but never am i dead.

But all this pain has led me here
to this one small line:
if you ever ask me what is wrong,
I'll just say i'm fine.





no i don't need professional help.

Discourse

I'm pretty sure I have zero readers of my blog, so I guess it doesn't matter what I write. Maybe one day someone will chance upon my writing and hopefully see how insane I am. By that time, I doubt my sanity will matter because what they've found is "in the past," and I probably will find some excuse (as Future Andrew) to say how I'm a "different person" or some B.S. like that. I'm pretty sure Future Andrew will be good at B.S. too. It's a trait I doubt any Andrew Past, Present or Future could live without. The three of us need that.


When the stricken heart is home,
And asking to be free,
It wants the world for it to roam,
To feel its liberty.

I don't get what I just wrote,
Just spewed some random shit.
About the girl that I still dote:
I miss her quite a bit.

The delicate, the young,
They cry their way to sleep.
The carols still unsung,
Bearing weights they weep.

But words and verses do not care
of what has lain beneath.
'Tis the beastly nature of the bear
That tears the gentle wreath.

And this last quatrain is for you,
Who sat there for a while.
Not knowing what to do,
You nod your head and smile.


happy three months.

Finals: The Last Stretch

You probably can't see the above image. Just click it and zoom in.


It is in times of trouble that I resign to blogging. Apparently, only in times of utmost stress do I feel a need to voice my worries. Perhaps blogging is the only technique by which I can relinquish my distress. Perhaps it is a conduit through which I tunnel my angst, my troubled woes, my boring complaints.

Or perhaps procrastination is a disease.

I like that idea! If procrastination is indeed a disease, what, then, would be the symptoms?
I've done much research on the topic (while I was supposed to be studying for finals), and I've come across some interesting things.
In order to be diagnosed medically for clinical procrastination, or I'll Do It Later syndrome (IDIL), the patient must meet 15 of 20 criteria.
For patients showing 0-4 symptoms, there can be no realistic method to treat them, for they cannot possibly have IDIL. Maybe they're just mentally unsound.
For patients exhibiting 5-9 of the following list, they can be diagnosed with Class 1 IDIL, which is the least severe of the IDIL classes.
Patients with 10-14 are considered Class 2 IDIL, and these patients are the most numerous in number.
Patients who meet 15-19 of the following have Class 3 IDIL Critical, or, as it is more commonly known, clinical procrastination (Procrastinalis Medicalis).
Patients exhibiting 20 of the symptoms have issues and should seek psychiatric help immediately...or whenever they get around to it...
Patients diagnosed with Class 1/2 IDIL can be prescribed certain medications, the most effective of which is "self-discipline", but "hard work" and "starting early" have been known to be very effective as well.
Patients diagnosed with Class 3 IDIL must be prescribed a new medication on the market called Focusine SR. Focusine SR should not be used during pregnancy, if heart conditions exist in the family or before sexual intercourse, all of which could lead to very awkward scenarios.

The criteria are as follows:
A. On school nights, patient sleeps later than 3AM regularly.
B. All-nighters are not a rare occurrence: Once a month or more.
C. All-nighters are not a rare occurrence: Once a week or more.
D. Patient logs onto Wikipedia at least once an hour.
E. 80% of tests taken require an all-nighter for which to study.
F. Patient refuses to write in Homework Notebook/Student Planner.
G. After putting off work to study for a test, leading to an all-nighter, patient does not "crash." Instead, patient procrastinates further by putting off sleep until much later.
H. Patient has shirt that says, "Procrastinators: Rulers of Tomorrow," or "Team Procrastination: Assembling Next Season," or something along those lines. Owners of such shirts should also check their funny bone, in case they are missing it.
I. Essays more than 6 pages in length require an all-nighter.
J. Essays more than 4 pages in length require an all-nighter.
K. Essays more than 2 pages in length require an all-nighter.
L. Any assignment that is called anything remotely sounding like "essay" requires an all-nighter. (i.e. Scientific Assays, Daily Short Answer (S.A.) Question, etc.)
M. Patient does not read prompt of assignments handed out months previously until a the night before assignment is due.
N. The first thing patient does before starting work is internet browsing.
O. The first site patient visits is Facebook.
P. Patient can easily browse Facebook for hours without questioning such browsing.
Q. Patient religiously reads buddies' Buddy Info/Away messages before starting work.
R. Patient Instant Messages friends complaining about workload before starting to do the actual workload.
S. At 3:30AM patient can be found blogging about procrastination.
T. Patient runs out of criteria for procrastination and promises to do it later. T.T