I'm moving, everyone.

Something about this journal doesn't sit well anymore. It's time to go. :)

Click here if you'd like to follow.

The thesis monster ate me up. When it figured out that it couldn't digest me, it spat me out a month later.

Harrumph.

I GIVE UP ON iATENEO. Gah. Don't want anymore. No no. Me have too much to do. Anyone else to take over?

The problem with relationships is that you never really have any idea how long they're going to last. Planning for the future then becomes pointless, right? Silly. Everyday, we destroy the future before we even get there. But today is today, now is now, and the world is beautiful. We have no idea where we're going, but let's just bleed the roses while we can.

I was never one for uncertainty or building one's life around one person. But when you're in a relationship, you can't help it. The roots of my history are my own. I have memories that you'll never know and secrets running through my veins. That five-year old child in the garden, blowing bubbles using the gumamela flowers she picked from the house next door--you'll never get to meet her.

But the branches, they're slowly becoming entwined. Sooner or later, it's going to be difficult to untangle. And should it happen, will we both survive the aftermath?

P.S.
It's not that I don't want to need you. I do. But isn't that just the problem? If two people need each other to survive, what happens when it is necessary that one should leave?

It's quiet here.

I woke up to the sunlight streaming through the window and silence. After spending most of the semestral break sick in bed, I feel much better now. Things have been different for quite a while.

Life feels odd, almost clumsy around my fingers and I am not keen on returning back to the office or to my thesis. Because I'm worried that I don't know where I'm going anymore. After this semester, I will be launched into a world of possibilities and I will be made to decide what I want to do for the rest of my life.

And I don't know. And when you have that answer so early on in the game, it makes you queasy, wondering if that was going to be the rest of your life--a crude imitation of college where you tried everything out and lost the point somewhere in the middle of entrepreneurship class and introduction to painting.

This is the last finals week that I will be able to experience and even if the memory is going to seem bittersweet soon enough, that isn't exactly the case right now.

I am stuck with an investigative journalism story, which I am doing all alone, because my partner is sick. It would've been nice if he delivered all his parts well and good, right? But noooo.. He's been messing up since the start of the paper--forgetting to do a lot of things and giving incomplete output.

I'm.. at a loss for words, grabe. He won't even show up tomorrow for the presentation.

He's sick, I know. And honestly, I would gladly do all the work if he's been doing his share from the start pa lang.

(sigh)

Naiinis talaga ako.

I normally don't do recaps of the day, because I feel journals should be so much more than play-by-plays of my actual life. I mean, really, who'd be interested in that?

But today, I really wiped myself out. I woke up at 7 in the morning and ran around like a chicken who accidentally ran head through a knife until about.. well, right now.

I won't go into the details, but I guess the main highlight of the day would have to be the Level-Up Placement Office's talk on the MBA. The speakers were funny and suddenly, I really really really wanted to do further studies. Let's just say that I went to the talk mainly to hear about the Asian Institute of Management and they did not let me down.

Also, I realized that I have a weakness for smart men. It doesn't matter how old you are, but if you can speak in French, tell me in an Australian aborigine anecdote, and talk about the merits of taking risks, breaking boundaries, and being a great leader.

(sigh)

Even if you're ugly. I swear. I'll just make you wear a paper bag over your head and we can talk forever.

But really, I suddenly remember how star struck I was when the late Senator Roco was the speaker for my high school graduation. I was in love. He sang one of his own compositions, said a Japanese haiku, and recited stanzas from Floarante at Laura.

(swoon)

Already a year older, I can't believe it. Twenty is an age that you don't really take seriously. But when you reach twenty-one, it justs.. well, overwhelming doesn't seem to quite cut it.

Twenty-one is such a big word.

And soon, the years will start raining down on me. Harder, faster, stronger that I'm afraid I will always be that awkward little girl on the side of the street who does not want to get wet. Because no matter how hard she tries to shield herself, the rain never stops.

I hope she realizes soon enough that the rain really isn't nothing to be feared.

Because isn't it what nourishes the flowers on her windowsill and causes all things to grow?

We hardly know where we're going except that I'm sure. There's no place I'd rather be, but here--with you.

Truthfully, that is all that seems to matter now.