Today:

I am almost always ensnared by dubbed Japanese infomercials---specifically, those promoting breast enhancements. A lot of the dialogue is so bad it's worth commenting on.

"Now I feel like a real woman!"
That's funny. I always thought it was about having a vagina. Guess I was wrong.

"Before I used SuperShine, I didn't dare have a boyfriend!"
Hahahaha. Self-explanatory.

"All of them (my friends) asked why my breasts look bigger."
I am suspicious of her "friends".

I could hardly sleep last night. My mind was at its most active (at inopportune times, unfortunately). I remember thinking about black holes, society, Pinoy Big Brother, and the difference between irony, paradox, and oxymoron.

Does anyone watch the "Global Call to Action Against Poverty" commercials? You know, the black and white ones where intellectuals and celebrities unite and snap every three seconds to show the plight of needy people everywhere.
Their goal is: to put a stop to poverty.

But what I thought of was this: Is poverty actually a disease? Or simply a negative byproduct of a socially stratified system? If they try to cure the poverty and it turns out that the latter is actually correct, their efforts would all be in vain because the system will always churn out certain people with unequal access to wealth, power, and prestige, whereas the rest are not given this advantage.

Yesterday:

Further analysis of my LJ friends' blogging styles has led me to ponder on my own. I've noticed some monitor the most trivial events of their day with relish, peppering their sentences with transitional phrases to add a morsel of variety. Others are partisans of surveys and quiz results as filler entries and as food for their conceit (with yours truly as the occasional guilty party).

And still others share their thoughts (not the deepest though, because these may be potentially embarassing) and emotions. Some are too enveloped by their woe to go on writing even a paragraph and leave us with vague phrases like "Bleh" and "Badvibes". (Query: If good vibrations cause music, do bad vibrations cause noise?) While others record their anguish/discombobulation with almost lyrical wantonness and urgency, as if LJ were an "Ask Alice" column.

I often wonder about the legacy of my LJ. At my peak, I can go on and on about the nonsensical notions and lucid images dancing and prancing about in my cerebral cortex (where my pituitary gland rests and is supposedly the connection of the Mind to the Body) but there are times when I'm trying to sleep that I actually am at my most profound (or at the time, it seems like it). So my point is, being that LJ is a simple collection and manifestation of codes and pixels, how can this encapsulate my entity? My history? My suppositions? Only ten percent of my thoughts are actually inscribed.

But looking back, my point probably is: I have no sensible point.

I think I need a cookie, because food is my answer to everything. Good afternoon.

I am better. Calmer. Steadier, if you will. Although I really do think I'm coming down with the curse of the edible avian beast now. I went to my pediatrician a while ago, and she said that I'd have to wait until Sunday to see if my blisters increase in amount (I already have a few, around three, I think). If they do, I'll have to stay at home. If not, I can go to school. One consolation: my pedia said that usually the last one in a household to catch this disease end up with mild cases, so thank God for that. I really hope she's correct. I miss school; practically everything about it, even taking tests. I don't miss PE class though.

Hello there, friends, lovers, charlatans and aloof blogsurfers. (cue to a prairie scene where gophers stick their heads out of their cute little lairs, as if something significant like a storm were coming)

Out of pity, I decided to revive my trodden xanga account. As I was updating the thirteenth chapter of my story, I realized keeping this account but not bothering to update it was like repressing a part of my unpleasant past in a faraway room I'd never visit but always pass by, giving me anxiety. So I decided to give it a shot of wisdom from the ever-changing NOW, which is today, NoVeMbEr 24tH, 2005.

Yes, I am laughing at myself back then. I thank the Man/Woman upstairs for this. I am wiser, stronger, and a groovier hepkitty than previous months. Hopefully, I'll be even better as the year ends.

I have also tapped into the left hemisphere of my brain, because I want to be ambidextrous. It will take time, like most things. But I shall wait, as I always do. Optimism shall be my driving force.

I can now write the alphabet in script with my right hand. Yay for me. (cue to a scene where a studio audience stares blankly at nothing in particular)

retcluryn fudetiana hwitirsnirba.

THE THREE SECRETS TO "INNER TRUTH":

1. Breathe heavily. Repeat around twenty times.

2. Now do it louder, and faster.

3. There. Now you've got it!

You'll probably ask, "Hey, I was cheated! Where was the inner truth in that?"

And then I shall say, "You are a fool. Inner Truth is the mere name of the exercise. You shall go to bed none the wiser, and with annoyance in your gut."

I feel accomplished. I should be happy, but for a couple of somewhat trivial reasons I am not very. I miss the life I used to lead. As I get older, my problems multiply. It's like the case of a snowball traveling down a hill. The amount of problems grow, but with them, you learn. I live to learn. I think my purpose in life will be cognitive. Or aesthetic. I don't know why I'm typing in short sentences. My paragraph structure is subpar today. I suppose this is because I just finished my research paper for Pol.Sci a while ago.

What did today bring?

I had prepared for the Science quiz and it was postponed. That's not fair.

I finished my Filipino editorial. All I have to do is the drawing.

English consisted of a typical lecture. I miss Sir Alfer.

I think I did well on the Math quiz.

A very buff, very flexible, and rather bouncy lady came to our school for a talk on nutrition. She didn't have the best English, but she taught me some things:

Sodium = bad, Sugar=bad, Exercise=good

Plus, there's more than one way to do push-ups. I suddenly remember my brother doing "back-ups". It was so hysterical watching him do so. He looked like a fish out of water. I can't and won't demonstrate it.

More personality psychology for CL class. Funny how Miss keeps calling me at least once each class.

Researched for Pol.Sci at the library. Kari let me borrow a book on Hitler with her ID which was generous. I talked to Sir Brian about his John Lennon pin. He has good taste. (Cream, Jimi Hendrix Experience, yadda yadda) He might've been a hippie, ja?

I wish I were healthy. Stupid flabs and fragile structure.

Oh yeah. I am writing in this manner because I've done so much writing, it feels like I have little creativity left. Maybe I'm also writing this down so I can look back a month from now and laugh.

Things you enjoy, even when no one around you wants to go out and play. What lowers your stress/blood pressure/anxiety level? Make a list, post it to your journal... and then tag 5 friends and ask them to post it to theirs.

Am now a prisoner of Ysi's randomness.

1. Listening to music. I seriously get lost in my own thoughts when I do so.

2. Binging on ice cream. Self-explanatory.

3. Playing some gosh-darned video games.

4. Surfing the net. It never gets old; it also amazes me how large the cyber-universe is.

5. Reading. I'll read anything.

6. Talk to someone, if anyone is around at all.

7. Watch television, or a movie.

8. Pamper myself. Vanity is a jealous mistress, haha.

9. Really childish, mundane stuff like playing with clay, maybe. If I'm in a creative mood, I might sketch.

10. If nothing else, I'll turn up the airconditioning and drift off into Dreamland (which is a very curious place if you're me. )