So They Call This Self Awareness?

It’s more like exposing yourself to pass through a phase in your life that you have long forgotten and kept sealed. Resulting to tears that are supposed to be invisible to a mundane naked eye.  But once they flow, they recognizes no end even when the stimulus is gone, the effect remains. 

For NSG RLE  105, we had to undergo a self awareness activity.  Earlier in that day saw classmates of mine crying(as in?) I scanned my composition and saw nothing sensitive enough to stir my emotions so I entered that white room wishing it would be over soon. Men really are tough , they were the only ones who remained untouched, everyone who had the chance to speak cried. Including me. Normally I wouldn’t enter my double broken family but I cant think of a sad phase in my life so I might as well throw it out in the open. I thought after years of
casually sharing it to others, i developed some sort of immunity to tears but damn it! I hate it when drama catches up in real life. I was bombarded with questions like: do you want to meet him, do you know his name, where he lives, have you asked your mother, have you thought of finding him, try the COMELEC. I was like , enough! I can’t speak while crying.I haven’t learned anything new except the sufferings of my fellow group mates. The instructor was going on about how my lack of formal family affected my low self esteem, saying that I should let go of my baggage so I could relate to people. I don’t carry that with me, I only remember it when I see a perfect family, it‘s not even with me, it‘s in the back of my closet eating dust, I don’t talk and smile much because it’s natural , I was born with it. She commented that I should be open. I like myself , why should I change? Why do introverts have to become extroverts in the end of a movie? Do you see a film vice versa? IDTS. It’s not fair. 

Dirty Little Secret

Dirty Little secret By all-American rejects

.Some are mine, some are not.

It's for me to know.
And
Yours to figure out.
So what's your SEcret?

 

The missing link

As stated before, i'm am the kid without a father. This aunt by law of mine visited. She told me that she have seen him around once or twice. She said that i really look like him. Due to my cousin's constant pestering, they convinced her tell him about i don't know exactly. I told them that its insane to even think about it, i mean if he wanted me around he should have never abandoned my mom. I still feel empty, like that news never arrived at all. Maybe because i'm not letting my hope up, that i'm prepared to be disappointed.

Re-cap

 I was born with a complicated and tangled as a sycamore tree family structure. My biological dad never shadowed in my life. My biological mom remarried so I was practically sent out for adoption . I always considered that word as dirty. And I’m pretty  much deprived of any overrated talent . As the clock continues Its clockwise ticking, my mouth always remained zipped and I masked myself with a blank face. I’m a self-proclaimed movie fanatic or should that be lunatic. I have this theory that pertains to my nonexistence. That I am just born to play a part in someone else’s life that’s why I feel kind of suspended in the realm of reality. That there is no certain plan of how my destiny is going to be played. Or is it just because I feel so lost? that the only road that I barely see is what the elders had directed me to travel. Im not compassionate, and I hate myself for it. Generally I couldn’t care less of other people’s wellness as much as I want to and have to, but I’m in the process of reconsidering because it‘s kind of mandatory. My favorite word is cliche since someone whom doesn’t know me mutually, practically slapped that to my face of which I’m glad he did when I was 17(which certainly isn’t ancient enough to be pushed behind the closet) . I have spent my teen aged years in solitary confinement both by choice and by force. I’m trapped in the world of vampires, wolves, witches , wizards, goblins and other mystical creatures that are bound to be found within a fiction book. My favorite mystic characters of course are witches and wizards. “ Earth and water protect me, air and fire bring my desire”. My dream mystic ability is to be able to fly, nothing like the wind brushing beneath my feet.  As childish as it may seem I’m a real sucker for  spaghetti and chocolates and I’m terribly petrified by snakes. I daydream a lot, probably because of the said theory earlier, by trying to picture yourself in a landscape to make the whole greater than the sum of its parts (muddy!!). My newest hero is LJ Smith, and I wish to dwell in her Night world and find that quixotic silver cord at last.  Coffee slips to my body for the first hour of every day and I kiss coffee good night before I float in the endless horizons and be completely consumed by darkness and be absorbed by the stillness of the nocturnal atmosphere. Reality bites, If I could, I’d rather stay printed In the pages of a hard-covered mind blowing fiction but I’m merely a full blooded , hundred percent muggle. Supernatural may have skipped me 

physically but it is still drifting in my veins unnoticed for now, but something scarce would be initiated eventually of that I’m certain. I just got out from the country of Panem, from the Hunger games imagined by Suzzane Collins. I felt how my whole body got licked and burned by fire through Katniss Everdeen. How my wings that stands for rebellion got smothered by the bomb Gale and Beete might have made not for me but for Snow’s people. I felt how my feet got sweep off because of Peeta’s powerful words and the brightness of his blue eyes. But I couldn’t be because I am not Katniss, the hunter, the girl from the Seams , the Mockingjay, Collins isn’t the writer of my story. I evolve into a parasite every time I indulge and take a plunge into an impossible tale. Like everything about this wretched girl is lost and all that is left is the ruins of a brain to be au fait with and a heart to stir emotions. I dissolve into the thin air but it happens so quietly that it leaves me undisturbed, so still that it’s as if I keep on listening to a story teller that breathes only to narrate to me. Im a typical suffer in silence type, though I do not entirely think that silence is equivalent to suffering. It s more like a blanket that warms you against the colds shoulders of societal discrimination and utmost cruelness.

Jerry Del Rosario

 Do you Know Him?

I know nothing about this man. Except his name and that he is my FATHER.  Im not even sure if im not holding into the wrong name, with a secretive mother you'll never know. Anyway, he was supposed to be Jerry Del ROsario. In my 17 years of breathing, I havent seen any physical evidence of his being . Well i'm not going to whine about how unfair it is that I grew up to be a shrinking violet because of his absence. I learned that in Psychology, that kids who does'nt have a paternal figure to look up to in their years of development will most likely become, let just say Zipped. 
The second question would be, would I want to meet him?
In gradeschool, nope, I didnt want pain, I have been bullied due to this and i didnt want to meet the person who made me experience becoming an outcast who have wasted gallons of salty tears everyday. In highschool, I think I wanted to , I wrote any essay about him. Titled " ANG NAWAWALANG BALAHIBO" ( MISSING FEATHER). It was an emotional one, the first public representation of my grief. It tells about how a bird couldnt fly because she isnt complete. ( I know , HS was full of drama, but it was fun).


Now? Maybe? Not?
Im not sure. the thing is I just whisper to myself that GOD has plans, and I being his creation doesnt have the right to question. There are just moments when I wonder if I have met him in the streets or sat with him in a bus, that if only I paid attention to people I would have known it was him. That's one thing I dont do, stare at random people: I exist in this world unnoticed, why should I stare at people who dont even know JM.
Is this a "Wanted dead or alive?". half actually,  there could be someone who breathes around him that could read this.  Its just another blog post by JM, with mixed intentions...
JulY 30
I was determined to cease from wondering about JERRy when I found this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZtQ4-dJut8&feature=related