28 August, 2010

Sleeping Beauty

I saw her smile in deep slumber
her thoughts wandering and searching
for the dearest kiss
if i can remember
the dearest kiss, she's waiting for the dearest kiss
even if it would take forever

27 August, 2010


Where's the sincerity in the word, "sorry?" When people say I have to be sincere when I make an apology, I lose my mind. I can never think of a way how I can do that. I just lose my hope of being forgiven and spend one night talking to God about how unjust this child of His is. Not only is showing you're sincere very difficult to do, I also just don't see sincerity per se on every sorry I say in my life. Does this mean I'm a horrible person? Probably. Well, the virtue of sincerity to people drives me crazy. Sometimes they demand a lot of things from you and will never believe you're truly sorry until you do something ridiculous on your part . They say, "Actions speak louder than words, babe." I say, "Hey, there! I'm really sorry. Wanna watch something awesome? *sets myself on fire* *WBHOOSH* Forgiven?"

And I'm not. Never will be.

But that's only when I make a huge terrible mistake. On a daily basis, I don't say sorry while wanting to set myself on fire. I say that word reflexively. That means I do not mean it at all. It just comes out of my mouth when I bump onto someone and that person must thank my mom for programming my brain that way. More often, my sorry is said just for the sake of being polite. For example, when I inadvertently step on someone's toes, "oh, sorry" is just a polite way to say, "Goddamn those ugly feet." When I bump into someone (or when someone bumps into me, uhm how do I know who bumps on who? We bump into each other.) not looking at the way on the corridor, "oh, sorry" is just the polite way to say, "Watch where you're going, idiot!" Whatever kind of reputation and however low ethos these confessions give me, I will want to say that I mean every apology that I'm going to say in this post. I am at my sincerest while saying these apologies. At my sincerest doesn't mean anything. It just means I really want to say sorry for a few things.

26 August, 2010


Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit, sed diam nonummy nibh euismod tincidunt ut laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat volutpat. Ut wisi enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exerci tation ullamcorper suscipit lobortis nisl ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis autem vel eum iriure dolor in hendrerit in vulputate velit esse molestie consequat, vel illum dolore eu feugiat nulla facilisis at vero eros et accumsan et iusto odio dignissim qui blandit praesent luptatum zzril delenit augue duis dolore te feugait nulla facilisi. Nam liber tempor cum soluta nobis eleifend option congue nihil imperdiet doming id quod mazim placerat facer possim assum. 

Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima. Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, fiant sollemnes in futurum.

gratulatio a vita.

23 August, 2010

Dancing with Demons

Teenagers, students – we like having fun. And to us, the opposite of fun is school. Schoolwork, homework, lab reports, exams... aggh! They drive us crazy. The bitter truth, however, is the fact that they alone aren’t responsible for that ‘driving us crazy’ thing. It is actually the existence of temptations, of the fun that we love and we are required to allot just a little time to, that drive us crazy. 

“I have an exam tomorrow... I have to study... uhm... maybe after I reach level 73.” And you’re at level 72, which means you have to fight two more bosses and do 70 more missions and fight 20 other players. That’s a total of 18 hours since you have to recharge your energy every so often. Am I right? I don’t play Mafia Wars. I suck. No, I don't play Vampire Wars either. I'm just... yeah, awful.

So, hello temptations, wanna hang out with me and save me from the very boring life with my textbooks? Being sixteen years old, probably at the peak of being a teenager, I suffer so much from these demons. I always want to spend four, five, or six hours studying but I can’t even start doing anything school-related. Being an awesome person, I know I have to fight these vicious fiends. Who are they? Those who won’t let us study. I originally made a TOP 10 List, but I realized my blog post would be too long if I would mention all of them. Well, I can just mention those that are at the bottom of the list now and not talk about them: parties, mall, instant messaging, blogs and gaming consoles. Now here’s my list of TOP 5 Temptations to Teenage Students:

17 August, 2010

Singing with Angels

What will make you happy? I read in one of my favorite novels that this question will ruin your life. If you tell yourself what it is, you will learn that you don’t have it – giving you the realization that you were never really happy with your life. You will then decide to go for it, reach it, and leave the life you currently have to pursue the life that you want to have… with happiness… but until then, you will suffer with much more sadness – much more than you can ever bear.

Paulo Coelho is such a genius.

Luckily for me, my answer to that question is nothing like the girl’s in the Coelho novel. I don’t want to go away just to find more time to discover myself and what life is about. That makes some sense… for a senseless person. Sorry, I shouldn’t be saying that the idea is stupid. It’s kinda disturbing, though. Will you really want to leave the life you currently have just because you want to try to understand some more what the most profound thing in this universe is? Life, that is? It’s just not the way I see happiness. The story taught me that lesson. The story taught me how to love.

That is why I’m not going to watch Eat, Pray, Love. I don’t have the luxury to go backpacking around the world to, well… eat, pray and love. I can do those things right here in front of the computer. Let me do it now. Eat! Okay, I’ve got oatmeal and a slice of apple. Pray! God, I’m talking to you. Please pay attention. Love! I love everyone! So… maybe girls would love to do it. Guys just won’t. It’s a pain in the ass… I mean in that back pocket where you place your wallet.

So what makes me happy? Really simple things: getting passing scores in exams, spending time with people I love, being alone while listening to music, seeing trees and greens, and doing what I love. I don’t always get passing scores in exams. That means I get sad sometimes. Who doesn’t? I don’t always spend time with people I love either. I also don’t always spend time being alone while listening to music, even seeing trees and greens, and I don’t always do what I love. I even get forced to do things I hate. Chores and integrals, who hasn’t heard of those things? What a sad life.

When I come to think of it… I think it is the way I discovered happiness, by realizing how sad or incomplete I get without those things that make me happy. We need to understand that happiness is, by nature, a luxury. We don’t get it everytime. That’s why we become happy whenever we get it – because we just don’t have it all the time. This ain’t heaven on earth, love. There are so many things we want to have but we don’t get them. It’s just a matter of choice, of satisfaction, and of measure of happiness. That is why we have friends, family, and the TV show Friends. We may not have heaven on earth but we do have angels on earth – those people and things that make us happy.

But don’t I get happy when I see people I hate suffer like hell? I do. Define guilty pleasure.

Well, I just randomly thought about this. I just remembered the story and I can’t get it out of my mind so I’m pouring it out here. So what do I want? A lot of things. But what if an angel knocks on my door and gives me just one wish, what will I wish for? Ten more wishes? No. Happiness, definitely. Why not?

Sorry about this very random post about happiness... I was listening to Hey Jude (on repeat in my playlist) and I found myself singing along the whole time. I felt a tinge of happiness.

kudos to the hearts of people who love their lives.

14 August, 2010

I am Not a Hero

I am not a good person, and I cannot fly.

Hey, guys! I haven’t blogged in a while. Yeah, there’s a student right here who’s been quite busy during the weekdays. Well… Before anything else, as you can see, this blog just underwent a major overhaul. I’ve wanted to redesign my blog for quite some time and just recently I decided to finally do so. I think this is better than the black one but I will surely miss the former OVERVILLE header (the one with the maple leaves). This new design is really nice. What do you think?

Okay. Today is a Saturday and I had a class from 1:00 to 4:00 pm. Basically in this class we are being taught how to become better citizens by learning how to help people in need, specifically during times of disasters and accidents. Last Saturday we were taught different ways to properly carry people (victims). Those carries are applicable during certain situations like when you see a decent-looking man lying unconscious on the street and you care enough for dead-looking strangers that you decide to carry that man on your back and take him somewhere as he waits for the perfect time to slit your throat and steal your bag. During real accidents, like during a fire, say in an office, you can also apply those carrying skills to further incapacitate yourself to escape the burning building by carrying your good-looking female workmate, who apparently passed out by suffocation, on your shoulder, regardless of the fact that she only found out that Ricky Martin is gay. 

So what did we learn today? The art of pumping someone’s chest and discharging your breath into his/her mouth, abbreviated CPCR, stands for cardio-pulmonary cerebral resuscitation. So ideally, when you see someone unconscious, being a good citizen, here’s what you’re gonna do:

1. Survey the scene.
    If you’re the only person in that area, pretend you’re doing some kind of CSI work. Look for clues that may tell what happened to the victim. By doing this, you can tell whether something fell from the stairs on that person… or the person fell from the stairs, or he fell off an airplane, or something fell off an airplane on him… or he’s just drunk. I’m not even gonna do this first step. If I see someone like that and I’m the only person around, I’m gonna hurry and get away from the scene before the cops arrive and accuse me of homicide. I’d rather not be a good citizen than become a prime suspect or be questioned by the police. I don’t like police officers.

2. Check for responsiveness.
    Tap the person’s shoulders. Say, “Hey ma’am/ hey sir! Are you okay?” If the person doesn’t respond, you have to do something you’re not gonna like. If the person does respond, leave him alone. No. That just means you no longer have to proceed to the next steps. If the person responds, and he bites you, and you fall in love with each other, then you’re probably inside Stephenie Meyer’s head.

3. Check for ABC.
    A is for airway, B is for breathing, C is for “Call 911 quick!” No. C is for circulation. So remove anything that blocks the airway. Check if the person’s still breathing. Check for pulse. If there’s no breath and no pulse, you might just want to think the person’s dead. Being a good citizen, you have to do CPR to revive him/her. I’ve told you I’m not a good citizen.

4. CPCR: place the heels of your hands on the person’s chest near the sternum.
    So first, you have to Google where the hell a person’s sternum is. But whatever, just place the heels of your interlocked hands on the victim’s chest. Then you have to pump twenty times for twenty seconds. After that, count another ten pumps. There’s a proper way on how to do this. I just can’t explain it here. I am not an expert on this, not even a good enough citizen.

5. Open the person’s mouth, pinch the person’s nose, and give two full breaths into his/her mouth.
    Don’t you think this step is really awkward? If you’ve seen someone do this, then you know what I’m talking about. Mouth is on someone’s mouth. What if the victim suddenly wakes up and he/she sees your mouth on his/her? Slap on the face. Punch on the stomach. Explanations. Apologies. Thanks. This is really weird. I will never do this.

Yes. I know how to do CPCR but I’m never gonna do it. Why can’t I just call the emergency hotline? The instructor told us that before anything else, we should call for help. Okay. So why not just call for help and leave that person alone? I’ve become a good citizen already by even bothering to call for help. Do you think if you get in a situation like that, you’ll actually kneel by that person, push his/her chest, and breathe into his/her mouth, just to become a good citizen? Just to help? Just to become a good person? Why not leave that person and go straight to church and pray for his/her recovery? Or if you expect worse to become worst, just pray for that person’s soul. Now you’re a much better person.

Off the topic: it’s my sister’s birthday today. She just arrived home from her makeover. She came home with full bangs and shorter hair. She doesn’t like it. My mom doesn’t like it either. I like it because now I get a hearty laugh whenever I look at her. HAHAHA…ppy birthday!

kudos to good deeds and good bangs.

09 August, 2010

I am a Dummy

"Oliver, you are stupid!"

Most people believe I’m smart. I graduated in a science-specialized high school and I am currently in my second year in one of the prime universities in my country, being a chemistry major at sixteen years old. It’s crazy how most people think I’m a goddamn prodigy just because of those things. Well, I am not smart. Okay, at least, I’m not that smart. I mean I’m not as smart as you probably think I am with what I’ve just told you.

I am not the most brilliant of students. In my high school, there were lots of guys who were more awesome students than I was. It’s because of two things: one, I don’t have a study habit; and two, I don’t care about my grades. I just go to school and force myself to learn the lessons and yeah, life goes on. Now, being a chemistry major, I don’t even feel like a science genius. Firstly, I hate my major. It’s not that I hate chemistry, but I just never thought that I would become a chemistry major. Secondly, I hate math! I suck at math. Really. I understand integrals and all those shit but I just really don’t do well in that subject. Lastly, I consider myself more of an art guy – I love reading and writing. I also love to draw and I also love music. It’s just so ironic how I ended up being a science person. It’s my mom’s dream of me becoming a doctor that shoved me into this path. So yes, I hate my academics. So I get passing grades; not excellent grades. So I get good scores; not perfect scores. So I’ve got my point across – I’m a dummy.

I’ve convinced myself that I’m stupid last Saturday night as I was trying to study for my orgo exam. Okay, let me just talk about this first: my orgo exam earlier was bat-effin insane! It was really damn difficult. When I walked into the room, I told myself, “Okay, Oliver, you can do this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.” So I took the exam paper and read the very first instruction: “Draw the structures of the missing reagents, intermediates, transition states and products of the following reactions.” Okay, so that’s nothing new. We’ve been doing that thing for quite a while. Then I read the very first reaction… %&*#!!! What’s CH3CH2SNa? OMG, chithreechitoosna?! What the hell was that thing doing there? I don’t recall having encountered that reagent. Well, maybe it’s because of lack of practice… The succeeding parts of the exam were even more challenging. “Draw the line structures of the most stable conformations of the following…” “Explain the following observations by writing the mechanisms of their reactions…”

August 9th, 2010. A nuclear bomb exploded inside my head. Fifty million neurons killed.

Going back to the Saturday night… I was trying to study for my orgo exam and I was really not doing anything. I was just staring at the book and thinking of lots of random stuff. After an hour of not accomplishing anything, I told myself, “Oliver, you’re stupid.” Okay, I had convinced myself that I’m totally stupid… but then I switched on the TV. The ultimate test of genius-ness was on! I’m not talking about the annoying versus fifth-graders quiz show – not that self-esteem destroyer. I’m talking about… *tune* Who Wants to be a Millionaire?


I watched this smart-looking twenty-something female play the game. She said she became a chess champion twice in college. (Oh! Smart!) The first round of the quiz is the dummy quiz as we all know. The first three questions, sure, she got them all right… but then, on the fourth question (and still on the dummy round!), she was asked, “Which of the following is a name for a master?”

A. Slave

B. Lassie

C. Czar

D. Pet

Oh of course, the correct answer is C. Czar. But the girl said she wasn’t sure! Come on! Wow, I felt so smart when she said that. She used [and wasted] a lifeline. She used “Ask the Audience.” So then yes, a huge percentage answered C. (Damn, some of the audience answered A. Slave and D. Pet and C. Lassie! Like come on! Seriously, who needs a lifeline for this question? This is very stupid!) She answered C. Okay, now congratulate her for being able to answer. The fifth question got me even more annoyed at her. The question was, “How many points are there on two five-pointed stars?”

A. 5

B. 10

C. 15

D. 20

Zero! There are no points on two five-pointed stars!!! Just kidding. The answer, obviously, is ten! Basic arithmetic: two times five. But the amazing girl said, “Uhm… I’m not sure.” Goodness! Just that night I was almost totally convinced that I’m very stupid, and then here’s this girl saying on national TV that she’s not sure of the answer to a question as simple as two times five. Great, eh? She used the lifeline “Phone a Friend.” The friend was on the phone and the girl told her the question and the choices. You’re not gonna believe what happened next. The friend answered, “Uhm… twenty?”

Goddammit. Birds of the same feathers (brain size) flock (fail) together.

So go ahead, people! Crown me! Crown yourselves! We’re geniuses. Give me the Nobel Prize, baby!

The girl didn’t want to believe her friend. She said she was still unsure and that she was thinking of answering twenty, but she was still really unsure. So she used her last lifeline, 50:50. Oh God, she should’ve left the show instead. She’s an embarrassment. And thank the computer for removing 20 from the choices. She answered… “B. 10”

Hooray! Ode to Joy should’ve been played in the background. I’m sooooo proud of her… I almost cried.

After that, I realized that I’m a smart guy, after all. With the new confidence, thanks to the very glorifying stupidity of that contestant, I went back to study. I was able to practice a little, but I think I dozed off.

Why was I even convincing myself that I am stupid? I just need to tell everyone that I am not a genius. What’s our measure of genius-ness, anyway? Who Wants to be a Millionaire? That remarkable contestant? How about Albert Einstein, how about that guy who invented Facebook (whose name I don’t care that I don’t know), or Lady GaGa?

Lady Gaga wins.

kudos to you, smart friend.
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