Maybe I will regret saying this, but not today.

I do not trust my parents.

I don't mean that as if I've just broken the law and if I tell them they'll surely rat on me kind of trust (that would be weird) neither in a way that they're out to gossip about me behind my back (even weirder, and I don't really care :|) I mean that in an emotional security kind of sense. 

I am not willing to give the honor of trusting my parents that if I one day fail in the future, they will be there to back me up or help me stand on my two feet again. I can assure you that they'll watch me, yeah along with everyone else, but to provide you that swift kick in the arse that brings sense back to your head? Hah. I'll be overestimating them if they even give me a friendly pat.

I know what you're thinking. That I am too old for this teenage angst. But there isn't anything angsty about this. I don't hate my parents. I don't feel the need to whine on how unfair they were to me and how I much I need my freedom and that Mom, I'm already 21. I have my own life! I don't hate them, but that doesn't mean I trust them. 

I do not believe that my parents will one day take me in their arms if ever my boyfriend breaks up with me. In case something worse than a breakup happens in my life, like that crashing realization that you have been one hell of a failure, I don't think my parents will come knocking to my door with that cheesy and reluctant "Let's talk about it." line. There will be that awkward meal, awkward stares, and the awkward whispering behind my back on what to do with me, but not the actual actions.

I do not resent my parents for this. They are just those kinds of people. I am a bit disheartened, but I cannot change who they are. I do not trust my parents that they will be strong for me when the time comes that I will be weak. I will never give them that much credit. So I will just have to be twice as strong for my own good.

You

“I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.” - Charles Bukowski

I remember the time you travelled those 180 something miles again just to see me. The day you were going home, I surprised you with breakfast in bed. Something I swore I'd never do back during my angsty, anti-men and single days. While we ate and watched Adventure Time on television, you reached for the can of PikNik we bought the previous day.

"Try it. It's pretty good, actually." You said, offering me the can.

I raised a quizzical eyebrow at you, feeling a bit offended that you'd forget such an obvious detail about me. "Um, duh. You know damn well that this is my fav--" and then I felt something strange in the can and pulled out a necklace.

Anyway, I just realized that I wrote so much about how another person hurt me in the past, that sometimes I'd lay awake at night and think of that time. It confused me on why I'd still think of that time when it's obviously over, but realized that it's probably because I wrote about those days so much, but barely wrote about you.

I always wondered what it would be like to write about being so immersed in love that you're actually scared that you'd drown in it. But the thing is, you make me so happy that sometimes I am left with no more words. I don't ever want to forget the things about you. When things go wrong for us, I never want to forget how you made me laugh. So I'll start writing again.

Toothpaste kisses

I guess it's been my folly as well, being always obsessed with the right words, the right phrase and the right sentence that I've somehow deluded myself into thinking that those are what it takes to be sure of what someone feels for you. Before I always pushed you into describing things for me further, to say something memorable and though you were clearly having a hard time to form everything into words, I still pushed you to try harder. But you never made me feel any less loved, and if I do mention here all the ways you make me feel loved it will take me hours and one hell of a long list.

It was to my disadvantage that I wanted to hear more and didn't see much of what you were doing. You were lazy with words but never with actions. You are the boy who had a busy schedule until 10 in the evening but waited one hour outside the auditorium for my class to finish. All that just so you can take me home, and all the way home you had to stomach all my bullshit on how you never made any time for me. You are the boy who wakes up at 4am on a Sunday just to look for the exact location of the hotel I was staying in just so you can drop me off in time at the exam site for my big day... with a sandwich for me on hand.

I can still remember the short, simple but right words you've said to me but there's nothing I miss more than the actual feeling of having you right beside me, laughing at the same jackass or perverted joke we crack up.

But now you're miles away from me and all I have are words. :(

Something that feels like home.

God I haven't updated this page in ages. I've noticed that I usually update my online accounts during holidays, when I have all the time in the world. :)) (especially holidays that require me to be up until 12mn hahaha!) 

So the exam is finally over, and I am not really expecting something good, honestly. The funny thing is whatever the result is, even if it is a positive one, I think in this case the process to the big finale is actually greater than the finale itself. I met awesome new people, played a sport I never dreamed of playing, experienced things I had no idea would happen to me, actually had a few resolutions from last year happen, and finally found home. 

I'll save the details for my next update w/c will more likely be on New Year's Eve hahahaha!

I'm pretty sleepy and I've been jumping from one video game to tv sitcoms just to keep me awake, but the reality is all day I've been thinking of just one thing.

How much I miss this boy and the fact that I can't wait to punch him in the guts then force him to take those stuffed animal rides for a spin again.

Nothing Spaces

Can I please just say that I can be very ambivalent at times and not only that, I tend to ricochet back and forth from the third person pronoun to the first like a mad woman (my previous post is proof and I am ashamed at how I suck at proofreading)

So anyway, they are making a movie out of one of my favorite books of all time: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer.

First thing that came into my mind: HOLY SHIT!!! IT'S TOM HANKS!!!! AKSFHAKFHA AND SANDRA BULLOCK! BUT SHE'S OLD!!!

Second thing that came into my mind: Where the hell is Anna?

Anna is my favorite character in the entire book. I thought that making this into a movie would be impossible. I have seen Foer's other book (Everything is Illuminated) turned into a movie and disappointed is not even a bad enough word to describe it (AND DON'T EVEN LET ME GET STARTED ON NORWEGIAN WOOD BY MURAKAMI!!!).

After seeing the trailer, I'm not so sure if I still want to see it. They focused more on the 9/11 incident, but not even a shadow of Anna was seen. Anna is Oscar's grandmother, and from chapter to chapter, the story switches from the present to the 40s when Anna was still a little girl and how she lost absolutely everything in one night, and how in the future, she settled to be second best. It was absolutely one of the saddest stories I've ever read, and unlike Brod's story in Everything is Illuminated, Anna's story is actually realistic, and may have actually happened to someone or dozens of people after WW2.

But anyway, horrible or not, I'd like to see them give this book some justice.