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The Diary of a Sociopath.
dailydraughtofinsanity.

Trisha | 15 | PH

A wishful thinker & a mindless dreamer.A princess in ripped-up jeans plotting to rule the world. I'm not a saint and I'm not what you think. Call me insane, crazy, shizoid or whatever. I won't give a damn. (It's true kasi haha.) Proud nerdfighter. I'm not made up of cells and organs and stuff; I'm made of awesome. I am legen-wait for it-dary. Having the time of my life fighting dragons with him. DFTBA ♥

/ Made this blog 'cause it's a prerequisite for our elective class.

I expected him to cry all day like he usually does when I’m ignoring him and making taray to him,pero he’s the one ignoring me.

I am totally loving Crazy World by Boys Like Girls. Ang favorite song ko dun sa album is Life of the Party. The song sorta reminds me of Graviton 2k13’s class presentation during our prom. O.o

What I’m about to post is really mainstream. If you don’t wanna put up with a post you’ve probably read before, then I suggest you stop right now and carry on with your scrolling. :)

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NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. THIS SHOULDN’T BE HAPPENING. I DON’T WANNA MEET THE MOTHER. AND I DEFINITELY DON’T WANT HER TO BE THE MOTHER. THIS IS DISAPPOINTING. I DID NOT WATCH  EIGHT FCKING SEASONS FOR THIS. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.

Haha joke ang OA. Pero seriously. I despise that bitch, kung sino man siya.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. THIS SHOULDN’T BE HAPPENING. I DON’T WANNA MEET THE MOTHER. AND I DEFINITELY DON’T WANT HER TO BE THE MOTHER. THIS IS DISAPPOINTING. I DID NOT WATCH  EIGHT FCKING SEASONS FOR THIS. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.

Haha joke ang OA. Pero seriously. I despise that bitch, kung sino man siya.

Of late, I had been constantly fretting about UPCAT and what course I should choose and all things UP. I assumed that when I got home for the weekend, I would somehow forget the anxiety that I get whenever I think the acronym ‘UP’ pops into my mind, but alas, what I supposed is mistaken.
Yesterday, my mom came to fetch me when I got off our carpool, and we walked off to Jollibee for our weekly mom-daughter quality time. Routinely, I would tell her about the crest and troughs of academia and she tells me about the crest and troughs of society, politics, the government and other stuff moms usually tell their daughters. While we’re going through this routine, she mentioned something about a UP student’s suicide. She didn’t go into detail about the incident because she didn’t remember much of it, so I made a mental note to search the net about it later.
I was having second thoughts on searching about it. I chose not to, because the thought of death scared me. I tried to keep it out of my mind, but when I opened Facebook, my news feed was full of UP-student-kills-herself stories. Curiosity got the best of me, and I was soon searching for “UP student suicide”.
The articles are about a 16-year-old named Kristel Tejada who took her life because her family was bereft of money to pay for her tuition. (She’s just a year older than me. O.o) She just wanted to finish college on time to help her four siblings. However, she owed P10,000 in tuition for this semester at the University of the Philippines in Manila. She asked for a tuition loan or installment payment and offered a promissory note, and when all of these have been turned down, her mother even knelt before UPM chancellor Manuel Agudo to plea for their situation. All their efforts to continue the girl’s studies have been turned down, and she was compelled to file a Leave of Absence (LOA) last Wednesday due to her failure to pay her tuition payments on time. This has made Tejada dejected, and her financial limitations have been the major reason for the suicide.
In November last year, the UPM administration forbade students who were unable to pay their fees on time from attending classes by strictly imposing the “no late payment” and “forced LOA” policies. I was taken aback by these, because I thought UP scholars were supported financially. I thought they were “iskos and iskas ng bayan”.
It’s a fact that the Philippines is home to many unfortunate families that try to survive through the meager income that they earn. Some families barely have money for food, much less for education. It appears that education has been more of a privilege for the wealthy than a human right.
However, United Nation’s second Millennium Development Goal, which is to achieve universal primary education, is being followed by our country. There are public schools for the primary and secondary education of children from financially-deprived families. On the other hand, I am perplexed by the fact that some parents do not utilize the ten years that their kids spend in elementary and high school for earning enough money for the latter’s college education. I mean, ten years is enough already.
Then again, there are cases such as Tejada’s where they deserve to be educated but they do not have enough money to fund their fees. I think it’s the government’s turn to address this need. After all, education is a right, not a privilege.
 
Photo credits to Pixel Offensive.
Source: http://www.bazics.net/2013/03/kristel-tejada-up-manila-student-commits-suicide.html#ixzz2NlEfxupp

Of late, I had been constantly fretting about UPCAT and what course I should choose and all things UP. I assumed that when I got home for the weekend, I would somehow forget the anxiety that I get whenever I think the acronym ‘UP’ pops into my mind, but alas, what I supposed is mistaken.

Yesterday, my mom came to fetch me when I got off our carpool, and we walked off to Jollibee for our weekly mom-daughter quality time. Routinely, I would tell her about the crest and troughs of academia and she tells me about the crest and troughs of society, politics, the government and other stuff moms usually tell their daughters. While we’re going through this routine, she mentioned something about a UP student’s suicide. She didn’t go into detail about the incident because she didn’t remember much of it, so I made a mental note to search the net about it later.

I was having second thoughts on searching about it. I chose not to, because the thought of death scared me. I tried to keep it out of my mind, but when I opened Facebook, my news feed was full of UP-student-kills-herself stories. Curiosity got the best of me, and I was soon searching for “UP student suicide”.

The articles are about a 16-year-old named Kristel Tejada who took her life because her family was bereft of money to pay for her tuition. (She’s just a year older than me. O.o) She just wanted to finish college on time to help her four siblings. However, she owed P10,000 in tuition for this semester at the University of the Philippines in Manila. She asked for a tuition loan or installment payment and offered a promissory note, and when all of these have been turned down, her mother even knelt before UPM chancellor Manuel Agudo to plea for their situation. All their efforts to continue the girl’s studies have been turned down, and she was compelled to file a Leave of Absence (LOA) last Wednesday due to her failure to pay her tuition payments on time. This has made Tejada dejected, and her financial limitations have been the major reason for the suicide.

In November last year, the UPM administration forbade students who were unable to pay their fees on time from attending classes by strictly imposing the “no late payment” and “forced LOA” policies. I was taken aback by these, because I thought UP scholars were supported financially. I thought they were “iskos and iskas ng bayan”.

It’s a fact that the Philippines is home to many unfortunate families that try to survive through the meager income that they earn. Some families barely have money for food, much less for education. It appears that education has been more of a privilege for the wealthy than a human right.

However, United Nation’s second Millennium Development Goal, which is to achieve universal primary education, is being followed by our country. There are public schools for the primary and secondary education of children from financially-deprived families. On the other hand, I am perplexed by the fact that some parents do not utilize the ten years that their kids spend in elementary and high school for earning enough money for the latter’s college education. I mean, ten years is enough already.

Then again, there are cases such as Tejada’s where they deserve to be educated but they do not have enough money to fund their fees. I think it’s the government’s turn to address this need. After all, education is a right, not a privilege.

 

Photo credits to Pixel Offensive.

Source: http://www.bazics.net/2013/03/kristel-tejada-up-manila-student-commits-suicide.html#ixzz2NlEfxupp

All my life, I was known to be just a meek, ingenuous girl. I was overlooked most of the time. At first, it was painful to be snubbed by everybody, but as time elapsed, the dire feeling slipped away with it and was replaced with impassiveness. And as time elapsed, I metamorphosed into a lady in a sleek, black dress.

When a friend saw me, he told me to enter a game show. Everybody wanted to join, but only a few watched it. The only times the show had a high number of viewers were when it almost went defunct. The game was unsafe, but I took the risk to slide down a treacherous slope and joined the game.

During the show, I was given two boxes. I had to choose between the two. One was glass, and one was covered in black velvet. The glass box contained a silver necklace with a diamond-studded pendant. I had no idea at all on what is encompassed within the margins of the black box.

The mystery that the black box begets allured me, but it wasn’t enough to capture me. My eyes were caught by the glass box and the necklace it holds. Everything about it was exquisite and impeccable, even the red tag that said “For the woman in the red dress”. The box wasn’t meant for me. My dress wasn’t red. It was rigged up for someone else.

Regardless of this fact, I didn’t obviate my gaze from the glass box. I secretly considered opting for the black box because it had a tag that said “For the woman in the black dress,” but I still plumped for the glass one. When the host (who was dressed in red) asked me what my final pick was, I told her I wanted the glass one. Although she showed reluctance, she still gave it to me. I felt a blissful gust of wind when I finally held the box in my hands. And to my delight, the tag in the glass box mysteriously changed to “For the woman in the black dress”. I plunged in the bliss that swiftly dashed through my body when my hands caressed the necklace that the glass box contained. But in spite of this, I still thought of what’s inside the mysterious black box. I wore the necklace with a sigh.

This happened about a year ago. Many heartbreaking things, as well as delightful ones, have happened ever since I got hold of the necklace. Just recently, a friend told me that a lady garbed in royal purple entered the game. She chose the box wrapped up in black velvet. It was a beautiful silver bracelet speckled with uncut diamonds, but the tag still said “For the woman in the black dress,” even after she wore it.

When I learned what the black box contained, the regret that I felt at first increased tenfold. I began to long for the bracelet, but I told myself to just be satisfied with the necklace that I have possession of.

Eventually, the text of the tag of the black box altered. Now it’s “For the lady in purple”.

All doubts are gone now, and all regrets have totally faded away.

This may be another boring prom story to you, but to me, this is a fairytale.

It didn’t take off as magical as I imagined it would be. I was awfully upset about everything. My very first promenade almost turned out to be a series of unfortunate events.

The night before prom was the first time I got to see my gown. I was very thrilled to see it because the gay patarahi promised to make a gown like this:

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But the one he made wasn’t nearly as close to the original design as I’d been led to expect. He made white see-through sleeves that were very hideous, insisting that it really goes well with my gown when it was actually the opposite. I didn’t want to wear a gown with no sleeves, so my mom came to the rescue, got out her threads and needles and sewn straps to my gown. It turned out to be this:

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And the mask he gave me made me look like I had just gone to a funeral.

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The paratahi promised that he will take charge of all my accessories, but he gave me a pair of fake stones glue-gunned to a hook. My mom again came to the rescue. She lent me the pearl earrings that my dad gave her.

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My cocktail dress was too short that I didn’t know if I should pull it up to cover up my bosom or pull it down to cover my legs. There were too many wardrobe malfunctions and I couldn’t even move because of that stupid cocktail dress. I ended up bawling my eyes out. Though my friends tried to cheer me up, I couldn’t stop crying. My tear glands eventually stopped producing what they’re supposed to produce when a friend advised me to stop crying of I don’t want my mascara to run. Besides, I don’t wanna look unsightly.

I put an end to all the drama and just partied like the party animal that I truly am.

 

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My date offered me his coat when it got too chilly.

 

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With me is my good friend Mariah. She helped me get through one of the many wardrobe malfunctions that I’ve gone through.

 

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My awesome friends and I.

 

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With my journalism classmates and the very gorgeous Mr. Jerry Noveno. Unfortunately, Ferna is not present in the pic because she went home early. I suck at photoshop so I used MS paint to include her in the pic. XD Chia’s taller than you now Ferna :P

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Meet my prince. He’s responsible for making the night lovely. I love him. (Well, that escalated quickly haha)

It all ended when the clock struck 12 (jk it ended at 12 30). My date carried me to the carriage (in the form of a Mitsubishi Strada) that drove me back to my castle here in Iriga. It was indeed a magical night. image

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Never date a girl who hides behind a façade. Underneath her imperceptible mask are a myriad lies that you will never ever expect of her. Behind those sweet, innocent words are more profanities and spiteful notions than you could ever think of. She will hide from you her true colors for she flaunts the white dress of a sweet, little angel. Watch out, for her pretenses will fool you into thinking that she will never hurt you, when in fact, she has already maimed you and gored your back incalculable times. You’ll believe that she will stay by your side through thick and thin, but she will desert and betray you when everybody else labels you wretched and despicable. You will never understand why she will slowly detach herself from you until you catch her red-handed. She will fabricate a hundred stories about her world and the people who inhabit her world and the things that fill her world, but you will never have a clue that she is feeding your mind with deceit. If you happen to read her thoughts, your neck will go stiff the moment your eyes set on the many tall tales that take refuge in there, and if you study her eyes, she will take you to a fictitious world very far from the reality. Never date a girl who lies, for she will escort you in her many worlds cluttered up with vindictive words, and these words will then take the reins of your thinking. I swear, one day you will feel intense remorse once you date a girl with a fraudulent guise.

Photo grabbed from vb.uiraqi.com.

Last long weekend, it was mandatory for all juniors to answer a worksheet on the Nervous system, define 20 terms and answer all 18 questions in a worksheet on the Endocrine system, write at least one paragraph for each of the 18 questions given in an assignment about the Nervous system, and write our own Journal about the Fetal Development. It was really tiring. We had to find our own baby picture for the last page of the journal but I got too lazy to do so, so I improvised. XD

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