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i do not own this picture. just got it from the net and loved it. ;) <3
WordPress back2back special.
so…this would be the wordpress re-post part.
i hope these would suit your taste, dig in.
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My first wordpress entry :
yes, hello.
the intended username was MOrethaNtheusuAl, and my name is mona, hence, the arrangement. i asked a very important person if he would want to actually “baptize” (if i can even use the word like that) me in this blogging thing, after all, he was the one who opened my eyes to this kind of thing…thank you blog-father.–Feb 28, 2010
“a journalist has to know how to write, or at least know how to connect his brain with his hand”, a thought that came to me some few months ago. which is why i thought, why not practice? a friend once suggested, “if you really feel that way about yourself…”–under qualified, that i have to practice and actually try to ‘find my strengths and weaknesses’, to be able to improve.
Not just as a writer, i thought to myself, but also as a person.
“I need to do this…to get better….to be better.”
so, back to the whole ‘blogging’ idea, i just hope this will do the trick for me, i really loved writing ever since. but I’ve never really kept a regularly updated diary or a journal, any longer than 6 months, or just 3.
First thing, my handwriting is ……..
i can’t even describe it. it’s horrible. a sad, sad curse of nature.
but because I’m born creative and artistic (i do not intend to boast, but it is so. haha), I’ve found a way for it to look…at least, attractive..if not that much readable still.
I’ve finally learned how to draw my letters. “calligraphic”, as some people say.
but it’s tedious work. and the speed of my pen can’t keep up with that of my brain, so.. rather than bear with the irritation of seeing my ……. handwriting all over a well protected bundle of paper (which i paid for with my own money, actually), and waste a well loved pen… i quit.
but i never stopped thinking, continuously, i mean, like writing inside my head. which is more convenient and practical. you don’t waste expensive pen and paper, you don’t kill trees and deplete the ozone layer causing global warming, and you don’t have to worry about having someone stealing it from you anymore.
“what’s locked in your head can never be stolen by anyone unless, of course, you yourself lose the key”….your memory will be your worst enemy when it comes to that.
this i owe to nuts and bananas, no pun intended.
Second, unwanted readers like reading it.
well, there’s really nothing wrong with having people reading my works, but there are some parts of me that i can only share to a select few, not all can know everything. PRIVACY.
it might not be obvious but there’s nothing i’d want to put more public than the idea of me, wanting to keep my privacy.
I want people to read the things i put here, of course, this IS an online blog, right?
and i won’t throw and burn old journals, i’d bury them instead…somewhere deep inside the cabinet.
i don’t want to waste good stories, thoughts, and memories anymore, nor do i want to lose other pieces of myself–poems, lyrics, and many others, to forgetfulness, and carelessness. I want to keep them alive until they finally expire.
Third, this is much easier, it seems, because lots of people are so into this.
like what i’ve mentioned earlier, i’ve been brought to the blogging world by a good friend, first time he told me about this, i was quite unsure if i’m cut out for this…public online writing. this time i read some of his works, i loved the way he wrote, and i asked myself “how do I write?”. So i thought, why not try it and see for myself.
but i will never forget.. that “man is only truly free when his freedom is limited”–St. Augustine.
let’s hope for the best….hope more than the usual. :)
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my second, and hopefully not my last…:
“Wow, it’s been two years. Funny, now that I remember… My first days under the scorching sun, and the cold wet flooding rains that made my short hair drip, forming small pools around my feet where I stand, leaving tracks of liquid reflections that measure how far I already was from the pouring dark blue skies.”—Feb 28, 2010
I was just 15, to start with, when I first set foot on UST, reluctant. Unwilling. That day I took my entrance exam—BEATO ANGELICO BLDG., España. CFAD-AD was my first choice, though still, UST wasn’t.
I was young and didn’t know any better, I’ve never imagined studying in the university, nor did I ever want to. From where I’m from, it didn’t have quite a good name. The ‘’losers’’ from my school study here because it’s the only choice they got, this or become a red warrior.
For that, I wanted to be a green archer instead, not a maroon, nor a blue eagle, but a green archer. Because my favorite English teacher was one, the teacher that taught me pretty much everything, like how to write a painting, and paint a story effectively, and taught me that I must constantly improve myself in order to be acknowledged and not ever be outdated or left-out. So I wanted to follow her footsteps, to be an archer, that’s what I dreamt of becoming.
I told her I’d be taking tests in the top universities, UP, ADMU, DLSU, UST, even DLS-CSB. She encouraged me to do so.
I wanted to be a lot of things, of course, other than pleasing her and making my family proud, I wanted to be somebody I can be proud of, and someday do something that would make me happy.
I wanted to be an engineer, a mechanical engineer, like my father, before he took over family business. I was raised and fed by gears and automotive machinery, the games we used to play during long trips were “identify the make”, “car or not” and “truck or trailer”. Chores were measuring springs and painting auto parts with corrosion protectors.
I wanted to be a performer; a singer, a musician, an actress, a singer, and showcase to rest of the world what I’m made of. My mother supported my performing career in school ever since I was able to stand up straight and wiggle my toes.
I wanted to be a doctor, and care for the sick, most of my relatives were doctors, except for a select few, which were architects, licensed accountants, teachers and nuns.
I wanted to be an artist; a designer, interior, auto, fashion, advertisement, and the like, and recently, even make-up. In art you can be yourself, you don’t need words. Inspire others with what they see, bring beauty to life.
I wanted to be a public speaker, I even wanted to be a senator, a house speaker because of this, and I even dreamt becoming president. I wanted to be heard, I wanted my thoughts to matter, and my ideas to help inspire change in others.
I wanted to be a writer, but I held back during my early years in high school. 2nd year high school was my “intellectual dark age”. It was the time my favorite teacher did not believe I was the one who did my paper on Phantom of The Opera, without anybody’s help, without the aid of the internet, because of the way I wrote, and the words I used. It was then that I realized, “when you become better than yourself, or when you actually show people you’re good, some just wouldn’t be able to believe it that easily”. But when finally, she understood, and believed that ‘this is how I write’, ‘that was how I think though it might now seem so, because at times, you might think I’m shallow’, she encouraged me to write more. Hearing from my other teachers that she was boasting my papers in the faculty room, I felt content and quite happy about myself. “Renaissance” came right after.
There’s so much I know I can be, there’s so much that I want to be.
Which is why in these five schools, I took exams for the courses they offered best, not one alike. That, I may let fate decide. I had faith in this decision. I did my best.
Not expecting to pass them all, I was trapped. I needed to make my decision. This one that matters most, “where to go and which to take”, I let Him decide my fate. I couldn’t anymore ask for another sign, but when I touched my pocket and picked a shiny silver coin and prayed to God with all my heart.
“My faith in You decides my fate, show me O Lord what choice to make, where to go and which course to take.”
DLSU-yes, UP-yes, UST-yes, DLS-CSB-yes, ADMU-no.
DLSU-yes, UP-no, UST-yes, DLS-CSB-yes.
DLSU-yes, UST-yes, DLS-CSB-no.
DLSU-no, UST-yes.
Now, CFAD-AD or AB-JRN, bank or hero?
Now that I think of it, bank or hero, money or ideals? Advertisement or news?
If it was money that I wanted, then bank would be the better face.
But it as turned out, faith won and fate chose hero, Journalism over Advertising. Tiger over Archer.
Why UST??! I asked myself. Lord, why here? I asked Him.
When I’ve experienced the things in this university that I might not if I am somewhere else, great values I’ve I learned, friendships I have made with people pretty much like me, how easily I “fit in”, things they believe in, i realized this is my place, and I instantly loved the way everything flows around here, how normal is out and being above-normal is in.
And that was just the beginning.
I don’t want to leave anymore. UST became my home, my family.
I started to love this school more than any other; of course I had to hear things from a Thomasian’s perspective.
Even if transferring may mean a brighter future, or a more secure position. I didn’t want to leave.
I like it here, in AB, people think, and talk and say and write what they like. In UST, with restrictions, which is much better, this is a Catholic institution after all. I’ll keep my faith and live my twisted fate and see where I end up.
I’m a Thomasian now. And I’m an AB student.
I think I’m smart enough to know, this is where I belong.
“losers remain losers if they don’t try their best to improve. winners that won over being the losers that they were before are much greater champions over those who are so-called ‘born winners’.”–in UST, you find Hope.
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there are still a few unpublished wordpress entries that i’d be working on again, and i’ll also be posting them here soon :)
just take it. take it and leave.
if you keep hurting me like that, over and over, make a mess out of me, fuck my life up, bring me to deep shit, trample my heart over and over, crumple my hopes and dreams, kill my soul and desire for living while you keep me madly, sadly, helplessly in love with you, just, please, take my heart, my life, take everything and leave.
if you’ll keep reappearing in my thoughts like that, just take my mind and leave. go away and take my thoughts with you.
if you’ll keep making me fall for you like that, just take my heart, i don’t need it. stop bothering me. let me live my life.
if you don’t i’ll kill the other side of me that wants to keep you, that wants you to stay forever, to keep waiting until what you say becomes real, until you love me, until you love me again.
i think i dropped my brain somewhere when we first bumped into each other…
and i just found it deflated in your pocket when you last came back.
jeez. did you really have to use up all of it?
there’s no easy way to go, just take it. take it and leave.
i don’t want it anymore.
i hate you, i love you, and i hate you more. i love you still.
oh, just stay. stay with me please? don’t leave.
a monologue that i happened to extract from raw emotions.
a lot of people, women mostly, are quite indecisive, they are both emotional and rational at the same time. even when they have made their decision, deep inside, their hearts still waver, trying to weigh things—the situation and their emotions, what would happen if, what wouldn’t happen if.. and then, she either sticks with her wrong choice, or she says ‘oh, what the hell.’ and follows her heart.
A lingering thought.
“we must always
remember that patience and temperance prove the wisdom of a civilized
man, while chaos and arrogance will only prove that one is but a savage
beast. a learned man should be able to pick his fights with honor and
dignity, so that his name will not just be put to shame for minding the
…pointless, thoughtless, provocative barks of a mere mindless mongrel.”
this was my status message on facebook some days ago, and it wasn’t plain random.
over the events that occurred last summer, and some that happened during he course of last semester, i just figured it fit to put it there. not to hit people in the face, but to remind them, everyone. myself included. that we do not deserve to feel bad about ourselves just because of the blabberings of people we don’t care about or we don’t even know.
i’m not encouraging recklessness and thoughtlessness, i’m just saying, that… if you did nothing wrong, nothing they should care about, then…who cares? screw them all.
this is a preview. thank you.
“i just realized, that when i write online, i write with the untamed, raw version of me; scattered bits and pieces of my reflection in the most unfiltered way; all my thoughts released, like ravens fluttering their wings as they fly up to the darkest of nights…nah, i’m kidding, it’s just something people like calling ‘free writing’—you know, just the usual uncensored shit, but just more liberated the way i use it.”
i’m 17.
impulsive.
inconsistent.
impatient usually.
incoherent at times.
i’m very rarely irrational.
sometimes i’m just impossible.
i so hate cake waffles and donuts.
and milk just knows how to upset me.
i like to read, draw, eat, sleep and play.
i do think better when i’m with older people.
i also love to talk, write think, listen and observe.
i can also just shut up if you’d want me to.
i don’t think i’m a bitch, but i didn’t say i don’t hate ;)
i’m usually fickle when it comes to interests and other things, even goals and dreams….but there are some things that just won’t change. of course. :)
well hello there, Tumblr.
as you can see, i made this post just to show that my brain isn’t empty. haah. yeah, that’s the only point of this “first post”.
it’s just me announcing that my first few (like first the two or three) posts would just be re-posts from other sites, but also made by yours truly. i just find it tiring having to think about it and repeat things over and over again, yep, i mean the introductions.
and you’re right, this is also me just being lazy. ;)
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