As I said in my post I’m in my Ted Mosby phase, I recently realized I want to start dating, and I also want to write about love. One dilemma is that I probably do not want to write explicitly about the people who I am currently interested in. Instead, I will write about my past experiences, and then talk about things that I am currently learning in a more general way that gives no clues as to who I am talking about. Ok, good plan. Anyway, so for this entry, I want to talk about the guys I had a crush on when I was a kid.
When Little Ja was eleven years old, she wrote some lies in her diary, but she thought she had to do it, so that she can make her cousin Alice feel so bad that she’d stop reading her diary. Little Ja’s angry words were: I really hate Alice. I really don’t like her at all! She’s just useful to me when I have enemies. We had a fight but we were “ex-friends” again. And Wednesday almost bited me! This is a bad week today. (Source: Sugar Cream Puff Diary, Volume 1, Gr. 4-5)
When we were kids, my cousin Alice and I lived near each other. So after school, she’d come by my house, and, from the moment she’d arrive, up to the time she’d leave, we’d be inseparable. That can range from amicably playing together to being inseparable because we were completely committed to pulling each other’s hair. But during her daily visits there was bath/toilet time, and naturally, we wouldn’t be together in the bathroom.
My cousin Apple was two years younger than me, but she was the first one who learned how to ride the bike. She taunted me, riding the bike around me saying, “I know how to bike; you don’t. Belat!” Continue reading “Bike and Bleed”
Kalachuchi flowers symbolize death, but that’s not what I see when I’m looking at these white, yellow, or pink fragrant flowers. Instead, they trigger memories of my childhood. I loved climbing the Kalachuchi trees because unlike the coconut tree, they had branches, and unlike the mango tree, they don’t grow that high and the branches are not too thick, and unlike the kamias tree, they only had a few ants instead of a thousand.
If you’ve read Childhood Game: Taguan Mo Si Earl, you’d probably be wondering why my cousin was the target of such evil childhood games. Well, here’s another. It’s called daganan mo si Earl.
I remember one essay question for my English test back in grade school where it said, “What would you do if your maid left?” The right answer was, “I will help my family do the household chores.”
Battling shyness was the biggest challenge of my young life. I have grown so much over the years, but I’m still amazed whenever I make a crowd of people laugh. I’m still an introvert at heart, but I don’t think I’m shy anymore.
There’s a big difference between an introvert and a shy person. An introvert is someone who likes solitude. Liking solitude doesn’t mean hating people. It means that quiet moments are valued because they relax and rejuvenate the introvert. On the other hand, a shy person is someone who experiences silence as agony. Silence is not a chosen haven but a prison coerced by insecurities and doubt.
Overcoming shyness is possible. Start by recognizing the unproductive mental processes that goes on in your mind, understand that your prison is not well-built, then plot for your epic escape.