confessions of an emo-fuckshit

With the inflation rate we have plus the frugal-nature of Dabawenyos, i’m finding business terribly unfair!

i work. i give the best i could muster. i skip meals. i try to finish orders on time. but what do i get in return? money.  the sad part is, i get money not Money.

doing business could really be a pain in the ass. i work hard but i could never earn a decent amount to make a living,

xietmen! why cant’ all the money just pour on me?! true to what i read in a girl’s tshirt, girls just wanna have FUNds! hehehe

BLOG*certified_Anak.Sa.Pobreng.Ovaries

REACTION to an EX’s COMMENT:

"darkness eats the word love.."

eat up love… hmm.. how poetically alarming, ain’t it? being in the dark is quite different from thriving in the dark… and if love could be eaten up by darkness, i must say, it remains indigestible.

another thing.. you got it right.. i’m no longer the one you knew before.. coz i’ve grown a lot better.. prettier.. and sexier! *bwahahaha*

*BLOG.bloggin’.nonsense*jv

i am like water and he, a cup.

we compliment each other in a relationship that i think of as beneficial to both of us.

i poured myself out knowing that he is there to gather me whole. i never thought that he too, could have his limits.

he is always silent– the passive type. while i am busy boiling myself when mad and chillin’ when in the mood, he stands there.. waiting. only to react when pressured by circumstances.

i guess i pressured him too much. suddenly, he wasn’t himself. perhaps, i have poured my heart out to the point he could no longer contain it.. he had too much of me that he fails to hold up to the assurance that we stupidly gave each other.

he breaks himself.. so he could break away from me..

but as i’ve said, i am like water.. and even if he leaves me spilling everywhere, i am still here– still able to move along the tides of life.

i couldn’t seem to explain why i couldn’t seem to be angry at him for not holding up.. but this, i always believe: it is a tragedy– a love like ours being lost.. T.T

BLOG*what.made.you.let.the.romance.bleed.away??*jv

i don’t seem to know myself.

but if there’s one thing

i am sure of, it would be

what i felt for him…

he is the only person

i am so sure of wanting..

the only thing,

i am so deprived of..

i don’t know

what the hell is with me

why i couldn’t

step out of his shadow..

everything of beauty,

of perplexed entity–

reminds me of him:

the only thing, i couldn’t have…

*BLOG.the.haunting!XP*jv

as i sluggily dragged myself out of bed today, i suddenly came to terms with the reason why majority of my relationships is a failure.

it was kind silly.. i was blaming all the people in this shitty world for all of the misfortunes coming my way when the problem, in the first place, was in me!

each time someone gives me exclusive attention, i easily get overwhelmed. and when that someone talk of love, i rush things between the two of us and "think" that i love him back. this brings me to realize that all this time, i have been engaging myself with the same cycle of boyfriending men. boyfriending minus the love, that is.

i have intimacy issues. i hurt all the time beacuse i’m profoundly addicted to the thought of love. i was verbalizing "i love you"s consciously not knowing i was faking them.

i have been deceiving myself all along.. and my own fickle-natured heart was to be blamed for all the nonsensical tears that i’ve cried.

i NEVER really loved.. and i’m just dumb to admit that i have mistaken infatuation with love.

*BLOG.my.I.LOVE.YOUs.don’t. mean.a.damn.thing..Xp

i used to believe in Andrew E.’s song that goes: "humanap ka ng panget at ibigin mong tunay.."

i thought that ugly men would love me the way i needed them to love me.. so i never paid too much attention on how my boyfriends look like. it’s not that i couldn’t see their monstrously-hell-raising features.. it’s just that i didn’t concern myself in scrutinizing their faces. i just focused myself with the tiniest grain of beauty i could see in them and tada! it made all the ugliness, bearable.

i thought of myself as a saint.. painstakingly loving someone despite his lack of beauty. it was like eating someone else’s puke and enjoying it. i thought that was quite noble of me.. i thought that was romantic.

hell was i wrong! monstrous-looking men are not like Shrek. they are brutes. and they could never have pure hearts. neither could they love me as i do deserve to be loved. these monsters have ripped my heart out and left me scrambling on the floor– battling for air with a large hole in my chest. these monsters never looked down on me neither did they show me an ounce of mercy. such ungrateful bastards! lucky for me, i came out alive after loving them.

so, piece of advice? never settle for ugly men. it’s already worse to have your heart broken. don’t make it worst by pointing one ugly man as the perpetrator.

BLOG*boycott.those.ugly-good-for-nothing-shit-head-monsters*jv

DISCLAIMER: I did not write this for EJG.

how do i love to hurt? let me count the ways..

although i have given up all hopes on love, i must say, i LOVE how it feels to be hurt.

to let tears cloud my eyes and let them fall freely. they are raindrops that washes away the bitterness. and like raindrops that leave water stains on wind shields, tears leave slithering trails on my face –trails that form an invisible mask of strength that people just don’t see in me.

how i love to hurt.. to feel this crushing pain inside my chest. to linger on a lump that neither a thousand glasses of water could flush out, nor a single slit on the throat could extract.

it must have been a joy to hurt. to feel the knife’s blade on my empty stomach, to slash my wrists and watch blood rush out.

i could have given my life to this love.. for my love to hurt.

*BLOG.i.just.have.to.much.to.give–that.it.hurts*jv

P.S.

to the EXs who could be reading this, don’t think that YOU made me suicidal– I just am. *witchy witchy laugh*

P.S. II

this is what happens to EMOs: you stab us with a fuckin’ knife, and we push it further inside. the Pain Theorem.

today, the twenty-first of january, i am twenty one.

i can’t seem to imagine that i have lived for the span of 21 years! tsk.. still, i do not know what it means to be alive.. neither do i know what life is..

i can’t help but think that perhaps, living is the experience of pain. i do not know.. all i know is that though i’ve hurt from time to time and i’ve cried (almost everytime), i haven’t felt living a LIFE.

hai.. it’s mah fuckin’ birthday and i ain’t happy.

*BLOG.twenty-one.pukes.for.the.birthday.girl*jv

P.S.

please don’t think you’re makin’ me sad.. you’re not. so you have no obligation to make me happy. besides, i ain’t gonna be happy with you. cruel noh? ahihi (*.*)V

"why won’t you smile..?" you said.

why won’t i?

could it be.. that i can’t?

i guess you should have asked me why the hell im still alive.. i could have answered you: "..coz you kept me hangin’ on.."

how could i smile? when i want to raise my middle finger and curse at the terrible circumstances between us?

you should have known.. you’re everything i’ve ever wanted.. but soon.. i guess i have to learn how to let you go..

how could i smile, erik? when thoughts of losing you lurk in my head? it pains me.. but i’ll wait.. i’ll beg.. i’ll hold on.. and i’ll love you til my heart gets ripped off of loving you..

i guess i know nothing but this: that you belong to me solely.. as i do belong to you, solely..

BLOG.i.fuckin’.love.you.so.much.that.it.hurts*jv