Yeah, I might kill this blog.
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Two of my friends have recently reported to me of creepy guys in their lives. In both situations, the guys asked for the girl’s number from someone else, and proceeded to text them. With Girl A, the guy said that she had, she had, and I quote, “caught his attention”. Girl B told me that the guy seems to be following her everywhere, appearing where she is. He also texts her about the places where he saw her. Creepy indeed.
I don’t know if it was because these guys’ parents never talked with them about courtship, or there was some fundamental mistake in the way that they were raised, or if they really, really love the Edward Cullen character in those sparkly vampire books.
I’ll start with Girl A’s situation.
Girl A has never met Creep A. The reason that they have come into contact is because they share acquaintances. Creep A noticed Girl A, and how attractive she is. Creep A then decided, after Girl A had left, that he was going to ask for her number from some of his dumbshit friends.
Later that day, Creep A decided to text Girl A, and tell her of how she caught his attention, as if it were some great honor. But Creep A didn’t introduce himself, and had no intention of doing so. He intended for Girl A to try and find out.
Girl A theorized that it could have been this guy who was trying to get her attention while she was with her orgmates, but she wasn’t sure. She felt obliged to find out, because it made her uncomfortable enough to stay away from all the guys in her course until such time she found out.
Let’s look at Creep A’s firs mistake. He did not introduce himself. I don’t know what possessed him to think that this would be beneficial to whatever goal he has with Girl A, and I don’t care. By not making himself known, he pushed Girl A to set up a wall around herself, and only against him.
His second mistake. “Caught his attention.” I believe he intended this as a compliment, but all it serves is to kick his purpose in the cojones. He has already set himself up as a creep by refusing to introduce himself; why would she find that flattering in any way?
We move on to Creep B, and Girl B.
Following a girl and just watching her. Then texting her later in the day that you saw her doing this and that. What purpose could doing these things possibly serve? What aim could he have had? I don’t think I even need to say more about this. It’s just fucking creepy.
I honestly pity these guys. Their idea of courtship is quite skewed.
Summer classes have ended, with nothing but finals left. I’m currently at my leisure, updating myself on the unfinished webcomics I had saved. It has been a strange summer, and I am thankful for this.
StarKid’s new musical came out, and I have watched it over twelve times in the last couple of weeks. It is still my intention to write a musical, but I have no idea as to how it will be performed. I have far too many plans, and most of them involve writing, and music.
Lately, I’ve been wondering if I had chosen the right major. I’ve always been interested in Civil Engineering, but now, it is a field of knowledge that doesn’t come natural to me; I seem to have no talent for it.
A good friend of mine suggested that I shift to something else, something literature. I’ve thought of it, and it has always been tempting. Unfortunately, the circumstances *coughparentscough* will never allow me to shift to a course they think will make me no money. I am thankful though. Maybe I’ll get rich, then write.
My personal has been a roller coaster as of late. I was recently thrust into an involuntary exploration of the human experience, and now am out of it (no, it’s not rape). What could have been perceived as self-destructive behavior (I don’t mean cutting.), didn’t feel at all destructive. Just mandatory.
Vague much?
Well, when things are less vague for me, the less vaguely I’ll be able to explain them.:))
I am writing again, and rather prolifically. Whatever time I have, I devote now to the words that flow out of my fingers and onto computer screens. Every day, a new idea is born, and I write. I write, and write, and write. Ugly words, beautiful words, whatever words, I write. It’s the most amazing feeling in the world.
My friend said to me, in quote, “Snap the neck of your self-doubt, and write.” And that’s what I have done.
Sorry for the short post, but I have to get back to the short story.
Right now, I am looking at typewriters. I am staring at a picture of an Olivettti Linea88 Manual Typewriter. It could use a little cleaning, and according to the page on eBay, it could use some ribbons. Unfortunately, it is was overpriced, and I can’t bid on it.
I have had the worst writer’s block for months now, sometimes hovering over the same sentence for hours, only to delete it at the end. Fiction seems lost to me now. This blogpost is the first thing I will publish in months, and even then, my self-doubt will try to eat this alive before I hit the publish button.
I’ve been thinking of giving up movies for a while; I have noticed that I can visualize what I want to write quite well, but come time to put it into words, I am left with nothing but the images. I sometimes wonder if I have the mind of a director rather than a writer; I wonder if I should really be trying to correct this. Maybe I am meant to be behind a camera, not a typewriter.
I will not give up, though. I will keep writing. Maybe, one day, I will defeat the Block. That fucking block that keeps me from believing in what I write.
I apologize dearly for the hiatus. I have been both busy, and been suffering from WB.
I am not a materialistic person. I am simple in my tastes, hobbies, and other proclivities. See, my iPod was my graduation gift from my dad, and since then, it has grown to be very reliable, and undeniably precious to me.
It wasn’t just a form of entertainment to appease my boredom. In it, I have stored drafts of short stories and songs that I have yet to finish. There are small pieces of art in there made from the Sketchbook app. My collection of random quotations, which I type into a note right after I’ve heard them, is in there. Over a thousand quotes now. In the Notes, I’ve written down ideas, and plans for the future. I have pictures stored both in public and hidden folders. Videos. Some of these are saved nowhere else.
You don’t just have an iPod. You have in your hands my time capsule. You have the container of the memories, thoughts, ideas, words, and pieces of people I have decided are worth remembering, and returning to..
If you know that I own it, and your intention is to return it to me, I would be grateful beyond grateful. You would never know the extent of my gratitude. For the rest of the semester, I would treat you to an order of Kuya Steve’s siomai weekly; if we miss any meeting, I would replace it with an extra order the week after. I’d never forget how good enough you were to return my iPod to me.
If you don’t know who owns the iPod you just found, and intend to give it or have given it to a lost-and-found, I commend your decency. Even if it never returns to me, I hope one day your good deed will return to you as good fortune.
If you are neither of the above, I would first wish you good luck getting past the 23-character password that is needed to get into my iPod. I hope this comes back to bite your goddamned ass off. If you know who I am, and have interacted with me, I dearly hope that you freeze in the ninth circle of hell, and all alone, because Judas and Brutus have been reconciled. Should I pass you on the street, and recognize my iPod in your hands, I will break each of your fingers, at each of the joints. In the spirit of this paragraph, fuck you very much.
There is a scene from “The Incredibles” where Mr. Incredible sees this little boy, then asks him what he’s waiting for. The boy replies that he was waiting for something amazing. As I clicked on the “New Post” link, that scene just popped into my head, and thought I’d go with it.
It’s been a while since I’ve posted; school has kept me quite busy these past few weeks. My to-do list app on the iPod gets replenished every day; it never goes below ten tasks. I don’t know if it’s just because school has started, but as of late, I have been suffering from a bout of an excessive sense of responsibility. I do everything in advance now, from reading, to exercises, etc. Today, I actually planned to continue doing schoolwork, but I changed my mind.
Today is November 20, and I have turned 20. Actually, right now. I was born 10 pm. There was no party, or special celebration, or any giving of offensively large gifts. It started with mom just bringing me breakfast in bed; it was a bowl of pasta, and a shot of Yakult. I spent most of my hours at home, just reading, watching, bumming, and playing on my iPod. Typical weekend activities for me. Somehow, though, this was probably among the best birthdays I’ve ever had. It was just this feeling of contentedness that made the day amazing.
Christmas, and my birthday are nearing, and in the spirit of the birth of Jesus and me, I’m going to be incredibly materialistic. My friends have been asking me what I want for these two days, and I’ve always told them, “I’m going to make a list, don’t worry.” (“HAHA, kapal.”" as they say in the Philippines). Of course, most of the things on this list will be a little bit too expensive to ask someone for, so I’ll either just wish or save up for them. I’m also not including guitars on this list; there are too many of those that I want. So, here goes.
1. The Harry Potter Series Hardcover Boxed Set
My Harry Potter collection is incomplete. I only have Books 3-7. My Book 1 was lost when we moved, and my Book 2 was lost in a flood. My Prisoner of Azkaban’s sleeve was ripped apart by the dog of the person to whom i lent it. Unfortunately, the movie franchise is close to ending, and this would be just a wonderful thing to receive before it does.
2. Bluetooth Headphones
Did you know that the rate of bacterial growth in your ear is raised by by the power of seven every hour you’re using earphones? It’s one of the reasons I much prefer the headphones. And. It’s wireless, good god.
3. The Sandman Boxed Set
I was unfortunate enough only to have read this series on a computer. Out of respect for this series, I named every file properly. It would be an amazing addition to my collection.
4. The COD: World at War – Zombies for iPod Touch app
This is a game I have been craving for a long time, with its online play capability, and wireless gaming capability. Yes, you can use your WiFi to play with your friends. Yes, you can use Bluetooth to play with your friends. Nuff said.
5. Hellogoodbye’s upcoming album
Hellogoodbye is one of my favorite bands. They haven’t released a studio album since 2005, but are going to release a new one this November 9. I just don’t know when that’ll reach the Philippines.
6. Books
See, anyone could give me any book, and I’d appreciate it. Save, of course, if it is the unabridged version of Alexander Dumas’ “The Man in the Iron Mask”. Never will I tolerate seven paragraphs about a man’s beard ever again.
7. iPod USB Cable
Mine is frayed; frankly, I don’t know why or how it still works.
8. iPod earphones with mic
I have never been able to use my iPod’s recording functions. It is sad. Though if the Bluetooth headphones already come with a mic, that would be grand.
9. Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett
This was the first book to ever make me laugh so hard that I cried. Unfortunately, I lost it. I had the white version of it.
Of course, the list doesn’t end here, but I’ve never really felt comfortable asking for anything.
Today, I was talking to an old friend about relationships. She had just started one, and is in the initial stages. This basically means being as cheesy as Switzerland, which in Filipino would be “lumulutang sa kalandian”.
She told me about this chain of incidents that had happened within the last week (if I remember correctly); she and her boyfriend were sitting on a bench in her school, and one of the old English teachers passed by. The teacher faced them, and told them, “Don’t you two…yeah.” in Filipino.
Earlier today, the same teacher discovered them in the front lobby of the school, sitting next to each other. This time, rather than the single-sentence warning, she asked the boyfriend if she could have a word with him. I was told it was a long-ish conversation that she could not hear, but can be summarized as such: “Don’t get a girlfriend; if you already have one, break up with her.” The unfortunate couple was quite nervous afterward, knowing now that the teacher will watch them like an eagle from now on.
She asked me how I’d deal with people like this; I told her I’d tell them to mind their own business, politely. I asked her what her parents’ stand on relationships was. Her parents want her to avoid it absolutely, hopefully until after college. She also told me that she was planning to tell her own parents when she graduates.
I’ve heard this lecture before, from older members of my family. “Study first, relationships later.” To that, I’d reply that I have been a scholar of the Republic of the Philippines for years now, and that all I do is study. I don’t mean to be defiant, but I do believe that it would be my business alone, and only when the relationship becomes destructive should parents come in.
My dad has always insisted that I be allowed to discover, and learn about these things on my own, to my mother’s disdain. Over the years of my turbulent relationships, my mother’s favorite line has been “Hindi naman kita pinagbabawalan, pero…”, which translated is, “I’m not prohibiting you, but…”. I always just heard that part anyway, so.
Of course, my mom’s just looking out for me, and I am grateful. And she has every right to voice out an opinion. Others, however, do not. And the advice I gave my friend was to tell this teacher was what I’d do. Tell her it wasn’t any of her business. If it weren’t an authority figure, I’d even append “Kiss my ass,” to it, and leave it at that.
Stockholm Syndrome Courtship
It is not uncommon in the Philippines for one girl to have many suitors professing love for her, without really dating any of them seriously. While it is strictly not a wrong process, it can occasionally lead to the maltreatment of said boys, depending on the girl. Some girls even base a guys qualifications on how much he can demean himself for her. It may seem like a horrible way to screen for possible partners, but it is certainly not without foundation.
Double standard sexism is still quite rampant here in the Philippines, in that it is okay, even encouraged, for a man to womanize; for a woman, she may as well sign her own death certificate should she commit adultery.
This has led to a fairly large percentage of girls having a screening process reminiscent of an obstacle course, only with dragons, and the booby traps from the Indiana Jones movies. Some reading right now may have experienced such a woman in his life, a woman whose dating philosophy is “Battle Royale”.
What few people notice about this kind of courtship is that it’s a lot like Stockholm Syndrome. Stockholm Syndrome is the paradoxical psychological phenomenon wherein a captive or hostage expresses empathy towards his or her captor. It’s the reason why some heavily abused women tend to protect and defend their husbands’ actions, despite them being obviously wrong. It’s a psychological problem developed from abuse.
Stockholm Syndrome has four stages, the first of which is being held captive itself. The suitor agrees to the terms of the courtship, in that the woman may choose to date multiple men, but only eventually choose one. The suitor chooses to relinquish this luxury in order to gain the approval of the lady, hence held captive. He voluntarily enters this risky situation where he can have his heart horribly broken despite his best effort.
Stage Two is when the suitor/hostage gets to know his captor. He learns about her, her likes and dislikes. he learns to do what he can to please her, if only for the moment he is with her. He has other guys to compete with; his time with her has to count. He also learns to tread carefully, not to say or do anything that might garner her disapproval. He does this for fear of having his heard metaphorically ripped apart.
Stage Three is viewing any kindness as a sign of goodness. When she tells him he is sweet, or that she likes what he did, or does him a small favor, he thinks the world of it. This tiny kindness is a a major accomplishment; what he forgets is that she still can choose someone else. We all know that it isn’t always the best guy that wins the girl.
The final stage is thinking of the suitor affectionately, even defending them in the event of a possibly abusive situation.
There are some men who much prefer women like this; it’s not because they have masochistic tendencies, or anything. It’s because a lot of us are taught that this is the way. This is the way that courtship should be. The women are precious, fragile things, so we must be pounded into submission in order to be chosen. We are raised to become knights, fighting our way through everything to kneel in front of that princess.
But I would much prefer to be a king looking for a queen than one of the knights looking for that princess. I want someone who is my equal. I want someone who is strong enough to never need the humiliation of someone else to have them prove their feelings for her. I want someone to live with, not live for.
If it were up to me, I’d tell every girl in the world to choose the man who dares to be her equal, rather than begs to be her bitch. But, alas. It is too much to ask of the Philippines. We are still living in the past.