My Thoughts Exactly


Let me start this post with some dramatic feeling.

It’s been almost a month since I’ve posted something in my blog. I guess I’ve got nothing to say. Could be that or I just kept things to myself. It’s been four months of my senior life and so far it’s kind of great with the all new classmates but not so great when it comes to academics (especially, with the shocking news about grades!). It’s been a rocky two weeks for me.

My mother isn’t home for almost three weeks already and it feels completely wrong. It feels as if things aren’t in order. Things have been fine.

Until this the out of the blue situation sparked that I am in when some classmates (and even batchmates!) are giving me flying kisses. And no, no boys are part of this conspiracy. Just girls which adds up to the whole weird situation. This event was completely random and out of the blue. One classmate just started calling me her sister just because of that stage play we had where I played a role as her sister. It’s okay really. It’s fine she’s calling me that but it seemed so tiring that she’d say that all the time to me. Then from calling me sister, she gave out a flying kiss. Then several others followed her because they found out from a friend that I didn’t like when this friend gave me a flying kiss and oddly enough, when they give me a flying kiss I would shield my face or wipe my mouth. Now you may ask why I don’t like it. First, it’s strange. No one in my life has ever done that, okay. Second, it’s even weirder because they hardly know me and I hardly know them. Third, I don’t think it’s genuine. You guys are only making fun of me pretending as if you did care. From flying kisses, they would just shout out, “I Love You!” And once again, refer to reason First and reason Second. Well, my parents and one sister already told me those words but that’s different. They know me, I know them. Normally, when these classmates would say that to me I would say, “Please stop!” or “Shut Up!” or “I don’t love you.”  I would tell them those things but as jokes. I don’t “don’t love them”. I’m not indifferent either. I care for this people. It’s just that it’s not obvious. But it bothers me now realizing that people do this to annoy me. Well then, this is what I said: “My misery is your happiness so I won’t give you the satisfaction.”

This shouldn’t be a big deal. But it seems like it is. Some have noticed that when people are showing me this “affection” I won’t respond nicely. Someone even said that I am emotionless. Completely not true at all. If I was emotionless I would imagine myself like some one-face actress. That’s okay. That’s actually good that someone said that. It means, you don’t know who I really am. I’ve spent a lot of nights thinking all about the things that makes me happy, the things that makes me sad. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I just don’t know how to show my true emotions. Maybe I’ve been hiding under a mask. Maybe I don’t know how to say it and that I could only write it down or keep it in my mind. But I know two people who have seen me completely breakdown under the pressure, under the things have made me feel wrong.

Just one last thing and this is the only thing I was thinking the whole time they’ve been giving me flying kisses and telling me, “I Love You!” – Stop saying those words as if you mean it because I, personally, don’t feel like you mean it. Because I cherish the people who I know genuinely care and love me and they don’t act like that. These people who I know are genuine mean a lot. To me, knowing that there are people who genuinely care means a lot specially when I feel I’ve been downed by the world. I’m not use to people vocally and aggressively showing their love for me that’s why I think it’s superficial. What I’m used to at is not like what you guys are showing me. Maybe one day we could sit together and I’ll tell you. Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell it’s all real.

I apologize if I sound cocky or proud or something. It’s been a rocky month. I apologize to these people for not letting them know. I’m sorry.

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