Boredom = Fun

i'm far too young to understand the true complexities of life.

i'm no 80 year-old who can say she has lived a full life. i have neither lived for a quarter of a century, nor seen four popes come and pass. i have no grandchildren to share my stories of my childhood to, for i myself am still living it.

i'm no 65 year-old who can say she has seen it all. i have seen nothing, heard nothing, experienced nothing compared to those before me. my life is still an empty book, its pages waiting to be filled with stories of great adventure, of disappointment, of anguish, of love.

i'm no 50-year old who can say she has seen more than half of her life. i have not watched my children have children of their own. i have not seen how oddly the third generation acts, or seen how it kids of today are so much different from those of before. i am much too busy seeing how people three generations before are simply perplexed at how different my generation is from theirs.

i'm no 30 year-old who can say that raising her own children is much harder than she perceived. i have not experienced the pain of childbirth, and i'm not even sure i want to experience it. i do know how to balance a checkbook, but i have no idea where to get that money to balance from. i have never experienced a day of hunger in my life—i do not know how to earn money from, i do not know how hard it is to earn every single peso i spend. i do not know how to work for a living. i do not know how it is to sweat for everything i need. i only know to carefully time when i ask for money. i only know to do good and get good grades when i want something. i only know what i can have and cannot even ask for. i only know to be tactful.

i'm no 20-year old who has seen the confines of college. i do not know how to live alone. i do not know how to budget money given to me to survive the week. i do not know how to do my own laundry, to wash the dishes i have eaten from, or cook the food that i will eat. i only know how to receive, and be thankful for those that i do. i only know that this lifestyle will not last forever, that an end to my dependence will eventually come.

i am a mere 15 year-old. i only know to ask, to receive, and to thank.

i do not know how much life is like a city—there are many streets, but eventually you will learn your way through them. there are different alleys, backways and passageways that are a bit unconventional but will get you to your destination faster than the street would. there are streets that you thought you knew, but lead to different places once you tried to walk along it. there are places that you thought were dangerous, but underneath the façade was a rich culture waiting to be discovered.

i haven't experienced anything more than the emotional anguish of being a teen. money is no object—it is at my beck and call. everyone is there for me, guiding my way in the new streets i stride.

to me life's ups and downs are the works of my peers—those who like me and those who don't. i do know that this is trivial, but with everyone else handling every other aspect of my life, i have no choice but to focus on this one. i seem to carry the weight of my friends' problems, for even though my parents are the ones solving mine for me, i unintentionally appreciate my friends' company more than that of my parents. i try to protect them in any way i could, even if it causes me more distress than that of what my own problems give me.

and then there are the people who seem to be against me. i am doing nothing ill, yet other people seem to find something wrong. i simply fight for my friends, my family and all others i love. i simply stand up for what i believe in, sometimes fearing judgment, but never thinking of future imlplications when i act on my feelings. yet people seem to be looking at the negative part of my actions, never on my actual reason of doing it. people puzzle me, especially when they judge how i act on my feelings when they merely act on their own.

i know i should not be affected by what others say or do. i know i should learn to accept the fact that not everyone will agree with what i do, with what i think, and what i believe. i know that i should know that other people may not be as open-minded as i am. i know i should know they can be fierce in judging others' faults while not being blind to their own.

i know i should learn that people are people, and nothing can change that.

but what i know surpasses what i have learned. i might know these things, but i am immature enough to know their true meaning.

but for now i will condole myself, knowing the novel of my life is the one i myself write.

for the first time, i actually stood up for myself (and my sister, and my friends)...AND DIDN'T CRY IN THE PROCESS! WOOHOO!!!

because normally, i'd have a panic attack about halfway through the first sentence.

but today...whoa. it was SO NOT ME.

BUT IT WAS.

teehee.

i was like supergirl. seriously. because not once did i stutter or choke. i actually spoke whole sentences. IN ENGLISH.

(sorry if i seem to be making too big a deal of this, but i hardly ever finish a sentence in those situations. i'm too much of a crier.)

anyways.

this morning he sat beside me and went no insulting me (again) with the usual EPAL-BACKFIGHTER-DUWAG-GALIT SA'YO LAHAT NG TAO routine. no matter how many times he says it, it still hurts (well, the words don't hurt, just his way of saying it. because i know for a fact that what he's saying isn't true. and i actually kinda pity him, because he's obviously delusional for thinking that his friends actually agree with the stuff he's saying), so don't tell me to ignore him--BECAUSE I'VE ONLY DONE IT A MILLION TIMES. AND I'M SICK OF IT.

(as i'm typing this, i hear daddy defending me. how sweet! HE ACTUALLY WANTS TO PUMMEL SUPER FAG!!! at least someone's thinking the same as i am.)

i was like, "ha, sino kayang duwag sa'tin? eh ikaw nga babae lang saka lower years ang pinapatulan mo." (when he called me a coward) and "ang baba mo. sorry, but i won't stoop down to your level. (and then i shut up)" wahaha...ang taray! (that was in the morning.)

but then in the afternoon was when the real fun started.

the fag was LYING IN THE PREFECT'S FACE. and sir didn't even realize it. (ah well...we all have our flaws) or maybe he was just letting it pass. i dunno.

right after the prefect left, he immediately started making parinigs again. i was talking to my sister actually (well, i never did get to talk to her, thanks to super fag and his sword of a tongue) and i was going to tell her that the writer of the book i was reading was only sixteen, but then he started BUTTING IN.

don't you just hate that?

ack. i mean, stuff that don't concern you don't. so don't ever BUTT IN. not only is it annoying, it's ill-mannered too.

anyways,

he started calling my sister names (again)...told her that, "HOY, WAG KA NGANG-EEPAL-EPAL, SINGIT KA LANG DITO!"

(sino kayang singit ng singit sa usapan ng iba? tell me.)

so i told him, "AKALA KO BA TAPOS NA? EH BAT DADA KA PA RIN JAN NG DADA?"

and then he told me, "KALA MO BA HINDI KO ALAM? ALAM KONG KUNG ANU-ANO ANG PINAGKAKALAT MO SAKIN TUNGKOL SA CLASSMATES NATIN!!!"

so i was like, "UH, KAPAL MO AH! SIGE NGA, ANONG SINABI KO, HA? ANONG SINABI KO????"

and this was when they started singing.

to shut us up.

thank you adele, for your wonderful idea.

because if that went on, i would have stuffed his face with my bag. and pulled his bright red mickey mouse ears down to the floor.

so thank god it didn't.

(singit ko lang...in between all of that, he was saying defamatory words like EPAL and calling me a backfighter (pronounced bac-PAYter..haha) and all of that...just thought you wanted to know)

we were quiet after that...well, i was. he was, again, speaking to himself. or possibly thinking that his seatmate was agreeing with him. which his seatmate was not.

and just before he went out of the service, he told me (with my back facing him, as it always was), "O, AYAN, PUEDE MO NA ULIT AKO I-BACKFIGHT, BACKFIGHTER. ITULOY MO NANG PAGBA-BACKFIGHT MO!!!" (he said this about five times in rapid succession)

so i smiled and said, "sure." (i would NEVER give him the satisfaction of knowing that i'm scared of him, you hear me? NEVER.)

and did i forget to mention that i was reading during this whole incident? i was doing absolutely NOTHING to him. because that's what i usually do. pretend that something i don't like dosn't exist so that it won't bother me. but when that something insults me, my family or my friends, i try to make it shut up in the best sanction-free way possible. especially when it starts hurting the feelings of the people i love. mushy, but true.

perhaps he had nothing better to do. because he had no REAL friends, only people who were scared of him. and the ones he befriends because he copies from them. and say "yeah." or "okay." to all his statements because they are all defamatory and insulting, and it was best not to react. at all.

p.s. i don't care if you read this, super fag, i'm still happy. because i managed to defend myself without cursing. which i NEVER managed before.

p.p.s. i never did thank you for unintentionally teaching me that cursing was bad and distasteful and basically self-demeaning. because it practically says that, "LOOK AT ME, I HAVE NO MANNERS! MY PARENTS DIDN'T RAISE ME, BABOONS DID!!! CHEER ME ON AS I CURSE MY WAY TO HELL!!! WOOHOO!!!!!!!!"

joined del.icio.us. the only problem is, i haven't the faintest idea what it is. but i think it might be useful. in the future. or something.

anyways, i am SOOO behind on schoolwork. ack. i still have to make the past assignments i forgot to pass (about six of them, i think). and i forgot to take a quiz after class, and i still haven't got any latex AT ALL. fresh from the tree's what i need, which i'm going to use for my thesis. gawd, are they planning on killing me any time soon? i'm a 14-year-old high school senior, for crying out loud. they can at least give me SOME credit for staying at the top of my class despite being decades younger than my classmates. (oh wait...did i type 14? i'm 15. i turned 15 a month and a half ago.)

i'm not asking for much...just props for the fact that i haven't gone brain-dead yet.

maybe this is hypochondria (or something like that).

yes, it possibly could be.

or maybe i really do have asperger's (and ocd and cyclothymic disorder).

possibly.

well, here are the stuff they say about it:

1. People with Asperger syndrome lack the natural ability to see the subtexts of social interaction and also lack the ability to broadcast their own emotional state. Non-autistics are able to gather a whole host of information about other people's cognitive and emotional states based on clues gleaned from the environment and the other person's facial expression and body language, but people with Asperger syndrome have an impairment in this ability, sometimes called mind-blindness. To be mind-blind is to find it difficult or even impossible to figure out things a person implies but does not say directly (more colloquially, to "read between the lines"). This is not because they cannot imagine the answer but because they cannot choose between the possibilities; the mind-blind person cannot reliably gather enough information to do so or does not know how to interpret the information he or she does gather.

Now, how is this one like me? Oh nothing, just that i'm slower than the slowest slug in getting social stuff. no, not in school stuff--i get them just fine, thank you very much. but oddly enough, most people have to S-P-E-L-L out those subtexts of social interaction to me. just yesterday florenz told me that i was stupid (because i didn't get a thing he said when it was in plain tagalog). and honestly, i really wasn't offended because i get that a lot. the 'stupid' thing, i mean. in social subtexts. rarely with other stuff, though.

2. Along with this difficulty in reading the nonverbal communication of others, most people with Asperger's have difficulty expressing their own emotional state via body language, facial expression, and nuance as most people do. Such people have emotional responses as strong as, or perhaps stronger than, those of most people, although what generates an emotional response might not always be the same; the difficulty is in expressing these feelings, although it sometimes comes across as lacking them. For example, many people with Asperger syndrome have difficulty with eye contact. Some make very little eye contact because they find it overwhelming, whereas others have unmodulated, staring eye contact that can cause discomfort to other people. Similarly, the use of gestures may be almost nonexistent or may seem exaggerated and differ from what would normally be considered appropriate for a situation.

Ah, so true.I find it hard to express ANY kind of facial expression. Except laughter and sadness. Which I seem to be extremely abundant of to a point when i seem to be overreacting (when i SERIOUSLY am not--i really TRULY feel the actual feeling). And with the other expressions, well, let's just say I only have them because I think they're appropriate for the situation. So as to not make people think I'm more of a freak than I already am.

3. Asperger syndrome can involve an intense and obsessive level of focus on things of interest.

Duh. So true, because obviously I'm still searching for psychological disorders at two in the morning.

4. People with Asperger syndrome often have little patience for things outside these areas of interest. During the school years, many are perceived as highly intelligent underachievers or overachievers, clearly capable of outperforming their peers in their field of interest yet persistently unmotivated to do regular homework assignments (sometimes even in their areas of interest). Others, in contrast, may be hypermotivated to outperform peers in school.

Unmotivated smart girl? Totally me. I mean, I'm not saying I'm absolutely BRILLIANT or anything, but I can definitely do better than I am now. I'm just too lazy to do anything. Or unmotivated, if you want a damn fancier term. (But I'm still lazy to me. I rarely even do my homework.) But then I can be extremely hyper when I think someone's trying to make themselves better than me. Who don't really deserve it, but only do it for the bragging rights. I mean, duh, do it for yourselves, boys and girls, not for other people. DUH. If you're smart (like you claim you are) you should know that. Besides, smart people don't need constant reassurance from other people. If you're smart, you would most possibly know a lot about a lot of stuff. So obviously, also included in that 'lots of stuff' is the fact that you're smart. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure the bloody thing out.

5. Many people with Asperger syndrome also make idiosyncratic use of words, including new coinages and unusual juxtapositions. This can develop into a rare gift for humor (especially puns, wordplay, doggerel, satire) or writing.

One of my recently discovered talents, writing. Humorously. I think. Mae usually likes my one-liners. My grade school teachers always told me that I wrote well, but I never did listen to them. I always thought that I only have a good aptitude in English, but I didn't have the emotion to go with the compositions. But teenage angst has drove me to actually write how I felt about stuff I loved and hated. Unlike in grade school, when I don't even think I felt anything.

6.Children with Asperger syndrome often display advanced abilities for their age in language, reading, mathematics, spatial skills, or music, sometimes into the "gifted" range, but this may be counterbalanced by appreciable delays in other developmental areas. This combination of traits can create problems with teachers and other authority figures. (It may be relevant here that one of the social conventions many people with AS ignore is respect for authority. Attwood notes a tendency to feel that everyone should be treated much the same regardless of what social position they occupy; the student with AS may not give respect to an authority figure until he or she feels it has been earned, an attitude many teachers either do not understand or take strong exception to.) Like many other gifted children, a child with Asperger’s might be regarded by teachers as a "problem child" or a "poor performer." The child’s extremely low tolerance for what they perceive to be mundane and mediocre tasks (such as typical homework assignments) can easily become frustrating; the teacher may well consider the child arrogant, spiteful, and insubordinate. Meanwhile, the child sits mutely, feeling frustrated and wronged and often having no idea how to express these feelings.

I've always been above my grade level in reading and maths, above average in spatial and good in music (I sing and play a couple of instruments). But then I've always had problems with teachers who I don't respect. (Seriously. I think the guy who wrote this artice has been spying on me.) Quote from an artice I previoualy wrote (entitled 'RESPECT IS TO BE EARNED, NOT ORDERED'): Some think that just because they hold high position in office or come from a good family with a good reputation, they have to be respected. But actually, they don’t, because that respect should be gained by a person as an individual, and not by just riding the bandwagon. And as I mentioned earlier, I don't make stupid assignments like those you only have to copy from the textbook to your lecture notebook. I mean, DUH, then what use is your textbook? To ogle at when the class gets too boring??? (I make maths and everything because you can actually learn from it, but never those copy-the-blahblahblah from the book. Especially for Religion class. Because my this little thing I have called my common sense could've told me that. And we would've discussed the bloody topic anyway.)

7. On the other hand, many people with Asperger syndrome may experience inordinate levels of distress at having their routines disrupted or being denied the opportunity to express their special interests. For example, a child with Asperger syndrome may be a gifted writer for her age and may be happiest when spending class time working on her stories. The teacher may insist that the student instead pay attention to the lesson or work on assigned homework assignments. A non-autistic child in such circumstances may be mildly upset but probably would go along with the teacher. For a child with Asperger syndrome, on the other hand, such an experience can be extremely traumatic and leave the teacher and the rest of the class wondering why the normally withdrawn child is suddenly angry or upset seemingly out of proportion to the situation. Dismissing the child’s concerns at such a juncture – perhaps by characterizing the concerns as immature or disrespectful – can be a serious blow to the child’s self-esteem, which is often fragile already.

This. Guy. Is. Spying. On. Me. SERIOUSLY. Because this is what always happens in class. I listen, but I don't take down notes. I write poems or other stuff instead. And then my teacher would usually ask me what I was doing in this accusatory tone. To which I couldn't answer to for some unknown reason, even though I've already planned my answer in my head for the past five minutes. (And is it my fault her class doesn't interest me AT ALL? Duh, it's her job to interest us, but then she get's mad if we aren't. It simply means she's not doing her job right.)

And I'm actually planning on showing this list to the Guidance Counselor at school, to have them tell the teachers to lay off my case, at least for the time being, either for having Asperger's, hypochondria or simply being paranoid.

Gillberg's criteria are as follows (All six criteria must be met for confirmation of diagnosis):

1. Severe impairment in reciprocal social interaction (at least two of the following)
   1. inability to interact with peers
   2. lack of desire to interact with peers
   3. lack of appreciation of social cues
   4. socially and emotionally inappropriate behavior
2. All-absorbing narrow interest (at least one of the following)
   1. exclusion of other activities
   2. repetitive adherence
   3. more rote than meaning
3. Imposition of routines and interests(at least one of the following)
   1. on self, in aspects of life
   2. on others
4. Speech and language problems(at least three of the following)
   1. delayed development
   2. superficially perfect expressive language
   3. formal, pedantic language
   4. odd prosody, peculiar voice characteristics
   5. impairment of comprehension including misinterpretations of literal/implied meanings
5. Non-verbal communication problems(at least one of the following)
   1. limited use of gestures
   2. clumsy/gauche body language
   3. limited facial expression
   4. inappropriate expression
   5. peculiar, stiff gaze
6. Motor clumsiness: poor performance on neurodevelopmental examination

I think I'm turning into one of those crazy people in Veronika Decides To Die, who want to be considered crazy so they could act in an aberrant way. I think I'm one of the few people on earth (except those who ask for alms) who don't actually mind being pitied. I mean, it's pity. SO WHAT?

Ack. Maybe I am crazy.

when i woke up (for the second time today...i'll get to that later), i thought it was noon. but then my sister came home. so i was like, "why the hell are you here? it's 1am! you should be in school!" (as i was supposed to be. but, as i said, i'll get to that later)

then she told me it was 5pm.

seriously.

i thought it was bloody noon.

so my plans of *still* going to school were ruined.

but why *was* i home in the first place? oh nothing, only because:

1. i had a quiz first period and i knew zilch
2. i had a project due second period which i hadn't even STARTED (which, come to think of it, i *still* haven't started)
   
3. i had a report sixth period, and my recitation grade for history of music class only depended on it
4. i had another quiz in seventh period--basic accounting (elective period)--which only made my brain bleed. okay, i LOVE my elective (all those balancing and t-acounts and stuff) and i didn't even need to study, but i didn't need it to add up to my already crappy day

i'm sure there are more reasons, but i'm too crappy to think about those right now.

anyways, those are the reasons i skipped school. that, and my stomach painfully hurts everytime i feel cold.

ha! (thanks to the wonder of eating hot fudge sundaes and drinking coke at the same time)

at least i have a *real* reason. i mean, apart from the fact i've hardly been able to cope with schoolwork, what with my crazy life and all (you can almost hear my siblings screaming).

and in relation to Story #1, i fell asleep about 10am and when i woke up, i thought it was 1am. so i went downstairs and made myself a sandwich. then i went back up to watch tv. but then my sister came in and told me, "why didn't you go to school? you told me you were only coming in late! you're so dead!!!"

and so i was like, "why the hell are you here? it's 1am! you should be in school!"

and she was like, "are you on drugs or somthing? it's 5PM!"

OH.MY.GOD.

(i was actually still planning on going to school. or at least sending someone to bring the stuff i was supposed to for our report. but all that was foiled by the Evil Sleeping Kim. drat.)

oh yeah, and there's this motherfuk!ng gay fag who's been picking a fight with me and my sister. without us ever doing anything to him. (i mean, kaye--my sister--only told him to stop punching saul (her friend). dude, IS THAT A CRIME NOW?)

so there. i have to study for about a hundred quizzes, make a dozen projects, make up for about ten homework assignments and make one gay fag ass sorry he was ever born in this bloody world.

oh yeah, baby. I AM SO BACK.

Forget the Flying Spagheti Monster! Spread the word of the hottest sex God there ever was! (yeah, like the Flying Spaghetti Monster was EVER hot...um, hello, 4000-year old pasta? so not hot)



{ convert }

<center><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y46/Fossilized/Untitled-2.jpg" /><br /> <span style="font-size:-2;">{ <a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/jmfossil/12689.html">convert</a> }</span></center> spread the love!

anyone in their right minds would never let me near IMDB. especially when i stumble upon hot guys' profiles.

i mean, hello, who could resist HEATH LEDGER? seriously?

if no one'd stop me (or exert external force, as my physics teacher told me), i'd probably never leave the computer. yes, i love it THAT much.

and it makes me want to watch all those movies. (well, duh, it is the Internet Movie Database)

but at least i learn stuff.

i mean, did you know that Heath Ledger was named after that character in the Emily Brontë novel "Wuthering Heights" (besides hardcore fans, of course)?

and that his dad's name is Kim (like, so same as mine!)?

and that kate hudson is goldie hawn's daughter?

and that the girl in stuck in the suburbs is the older sister of the extremely chipper girl in phil of the future?

and that alicia witt (of urban legend fame; and she also happens to be in one of my favorite movies of all time, two weeks notice (OMGHUGHGRANT!!! still hottt, even though he's like, a bajillion years older than my PARENTS) and ring of nibelungs (which i honestly only liked because that was where i first saw Robert Pattinson)) and kate hudson were offered the role of mary jane on spider-man 2, but both turned it down (which is why the role went to kirsten dunst)?

and that kirsten dunst's name is actually pronounces keer-sten and not kur-sten?

and that robert pattinson and goldie hawn share the same birthday?

okay, FACTUAL OVERLOAD. and talk about friendster-type connections!

i mean, these might deem useless (for now, at least...you never know, i may join Beat The Geeks in the future...you never know) but at least they're fascinating