TAKE A BOW by FranKo
You spend a lot of time
convincing people that you're happy inside,
But I see through
Yeah, I see through the lies
You're wearing your disguise
And everyone's just doing what you do
Picture perfect faces,
Convincingly done,
They're out to catch a yellow bellied, red blooded, lady with a shotgun,
Point it at your followers and run
Well you got it all wrong!
Take a bow
They're watching you
Why and how
I'll never know
You
Strike a pose and make it pretty,
slide the note under the door
Just sit back, enjoy the view
He'll drag you to the ground
When nobody's around
And take a sign to turn you black and blue
Picture perfect faces,
Convincingly done,
They're out to catch a yellow bellied, red blooded, lady with a shotgun,
Point it at your followers and runWell you got it all wrong!
I was born without a voice and I've been living in deafening silence since. But that degree of silence is my background track, it's my habitat , it is what i exist for. So I opted for what my sight readily suggests and what are whispered in my ears. I learned to watch and listen.
This week our PI teacher gave us an activity, he handed each of us a paper. The front has a drawing and at the back a number is written. He instructed us to draw the front in a 1/4 oslo paper. These papers were puzzle pieces. When he completed the puzzle, it showed an image of Jose Rizal. The puzzle looked funny. We used different coloring mediums, different strokes, different shades. But if you take a few( or maybe a lot) of steps back, it shows it’s beauty. He explained that the differences of the puzzle pieces reflects our individuality. We have distinct point of views and we look at things from different angles. We may have the same eye structures and look at the same things but we, ourselves apply the difference. Who can see the real image? After each lecture, he delivers some kind of a pep talk. The topics are mostly random. He encourages us to write, to be skeptical and even to bend the rules. But this time, he talked about the cliché “ Being You””. He said that each of us are good persons, not better not best, we need not to compare ourselves. In comparing ourselves against other people, we gradually destroy our unique selves.
Our humanities professor isn’t as talkative as Mr. PI. He’s the kind that you may listen too and say “” He’s so gorgeous it hurts”” ( Emily from LOL) and then you chose not to because he’s getting too factual, too boring. Wait, I’m exaggerating , he’s not that boring and he’s not that gorgeous either, but he can turn heads ( we needn’t to turn because there’s plenty of him to see up front). There are moments, when he clears the vagueness of reality and his words are literally being engraved in my memory. That day, he talked about racial discrimination in conjunction with our report on Tribal Scars , an African Literature. I thought we were created equal. That no matter what blood flows in your veins, no matter what shade of color your eyes are, even if you’re a blinding blonde, a redhead , a brunette or black haired, no matter if your skin is faded and pale , brown or dark we are just plain humans , no more and definitely not less. Racial discrimination is too big of a deal to ignore. Anger suddenly combusted within me.
Listening to speakers is one of my infinite weakness. I don’t understand how they do it, How they can talk to the crowd without undergoing diaphoresis, dysrythmias and loss of consciousness. “” Don’t hate what you don’t understand " they say, I don’t. That’s just for math, something I hate because of lack of understanding ( it’s my biggest MATHMARE””. )
When my mind drifts, a speaker is born. But she’s afraid. She cant come out, her feet is tangled by vines. A massive hand is pressing against her mouth suffocating her. Then she gives up. She remains hidden. She watches and listens. So take a bow she’s watching you.
My fascination in movies is dated back when my cousins included me in their infinite movie marathons. There has always been an inclination, there has always been an attachment. These cousins grew out of it, they started to focus on their own lives and I was not yet ready for that. I was left alone, sitting in that couch , watching for dear life to pass by without even my passive participation. I’m still that girl. I haven’t changed. I haven’t made the move to change. I ignored the call of life. I focused on their life. The life in films. Why do I take them so seriously? Why cant I treat them like a side line thing? A year ago, I whispered the answer to a mate of mine, while walking side by side I told her that it made me experience things that I am unable to feel in real life. They bring me foreign feelings, something addictive that it had to be taken in large doses to satisfy the urge. The chance of experiencing them out of the reels is so distant almost hopeless. She smiled silently and that was it. As the darkness swallowed me one night, I thought about how simple sometimes complicated life was for the characters. Every moment had climax, had color, every scene is revolving. Every conversation becomes a catalyst for another explosive twist. Every word deserves to be heard. The details are wonderfully sewn together and the pattern is never the same as the other. And I want that. I envy that. My own green monster has nauseating smell, it drives me crazy. It drives me to the valley of pessimism and finding my way back is always an unbeatable struggle. It’s likened to the aftershock of movies. Something has been taken away and at some point I come to admit that I might not be the same again and it always falls on the brink of loss. In “the alchemist”, it was written that you will never learn what you learn in books in life and vice versa. Maybe that is what it is like for me. I don’t learn that easily what life has been offering me and I need to see it fictionalized before it sinks to my whole persona. I need it to exist in life. I need the unreal to be real.
Do you suppress yourself during social events?, limiting your actions so you could avoid getting noticed even if it means you are going to be on the death end of the rope? Do you look at your shoes whenever you have to pass by someone who you have no idea how to interact with? Do you look away like a stalker when you accidentally made eye contact with a stranger? Do you obey the rules so you could remain in the sidelines? Are you always seated in the back row or at the sides? Do you answer a question a little too long because you are thinking how to react rather than just spitting out what you have in your mind?
Welcome to the club!!! You are a Wall Flower.
Well the term flower kinda depicts something that possesses untouched beauty. The untouched reflects me but the beauty is a definite no-no. Who said anything about beauty being a physical superficial thing anyway? But these days it kind of revolve around that aspect. I too, am a wallflower, wait scratch that. I am not a wall flower but I am something on the wall. I am a wall________. What inspired me to write about this post? It’s the night of August 31, 2012. The so-called SOCIA with the theme ELITE REVOLUTION.
W.H.O says that health is not just about the absence of diseases but it is the complete physical, mental, psychological, social and spiritual well being. It’s already my 3rd time to witness the so-called college socialization, the speaker says it’s a to do for our social aspect. Third time’s the charm, they say, but such quotes keeps failing me because I am pretty much the exact same person that who I was when I stepped foot into that hall as the person who is typing at the moment. I read the CAndY magazine issue for August which I borrowed from a classmate of mine ( who is a definite wall FLOWER, emphasis on the FLOWER). They featured the happiness campaign which has a column on “ Cheerful Crushing”. How about that? Wall flowers are prone to crushing, it makes you giddy at first but it is nothing but a disguise to mask that you have to back off at the end, I guess there’s no fairytale made for such creatures. Except if you pull out the courage in the climax which looks easy enough to watch but hard enough to actually perform in life.
Yamato Nadeshiko : The wallflower is a Japanese anime that is a must watch to all anime fanatics. Nakahara Sunako is one of the coolest girl I’ve ever watched and the best part it, she doesn’t know it. She redefines eccentric. She collects horror DVDs, she lives in an immensely dark room where she keeps cadavers, skeletons and mannequins which she refer to as her friends and she have names for them all. She lives in a house with four heartthrobs and two of them have the hots for her. She calls them dazzling creatures and she tries to avoid having to interact with them because whenever she sees them her nose bleeds like a fountain ( for real ! ).
The Perks of being a wall flower by Stephen Chbosky : is a novel about Charlie who is the friend of the guy who committed suicide. I haven't fully read the book, i'm still waiting for the hard copy to come although i have read half of it in PDFs. What intrigued me into this is the title. Are there really perks of being one of the so called wallflowers? i think there's a line where charlie says " We are infinite". I really have to grab that copy, i hate it when i forget the main lines of a book or a movie. Infinite, dictionarywise means beyond measure. Charlie is in his teen years like me, what is in this age bracket that it deserves highlighting? is it because it's the stage of confusion, the "knowing yourself" crap? Maybe i'm standing in the same brink of confusion, maybe i belong in that crap. Don't blame me, I'm a teenager.
This week our PI teacher gave us an activity, he handed each of us a paper. The front has a drawing and at the back a number is written. He instructed us to draw the front in a 1/4 oslo paper. These papers were puzzle pieces. When he completed the puzzle, it showed an image of Jose Rizal. The puzzle looked funny. We used different coloring mediums, different strokes, different shades. But if you take a few( or maybe a lot) of steps back, it shows it’s beauty. He explained that the differences of the puzzle pieces reflects our individuality. We have distinct point of views and we look at things from different angles. We may have the same eye structures and look at the same things but we, ourselves apply the difference. Who can see the real image? After each lecture, he delivers some kind of a pep talk. The topics are mostly random. He encourages us to write, to be skeptical and even to bend the rules. But this time, he talked about the cliché “ Being You””. He said that each of us are good persons, not better not best, we need not to compare ourselves. In comparing ourselves against other people, we gradually destroy our unique selves. 
