So this is just like Tumblr

Except no one's forced to read it. I mean what?


Reading someone's blog is like reading someone's mind. No...it is.

Nervous

No. This is supposed to be a party.

I get lonely too

When I watch a good movie that makes me feel warm inside

When I want to snuggle into the comfort of another person

When I eat particularly delicious food

When I'm in a gorgeously beautiful place

When I have a good joke to tell

When I have a clever thought

When I go to sleep and it's cold

When I can't sleep and it's hot

When I want to care and nurture something

When I want to use a relaxed voice

When I have a weird pseudo-maternal mood to my heart

When I want to jam.

This is getting too weird. I want to sleep and dream. Hugo was a good movie.

And this is where I'd go on a depressed rampage on Tumblr

I am brave. I am an explorer.

I am 17 and brilliant and bold.

If I'm hoping it gets better, then I'm going to make it better.

If it's going to be the fucking holiday season, it's going to feel like the fucking holiday season.

I want it to feel like Christmas. Like the holiday season. Please please please.

No more mopies or weepies or worries or scardies. I will be happy and goddy with this holiday season.

Even if I have to open my heart to feelings.

When you think, "I want what they have."

Oh my. Here come the lonelies.

Happy Home Life

That phrase. Why is it there? It just popped up..

Happy home life. Somehow it fits.

Happy home life. Happy home life. Happy home life.

Straggler Thoughts

I'm kind of grossed out by nail polish now.

I am starting to see the negatives in everything. Hopefully this gives me a more equal point of view with everything.

I hate missing out.

What if a Disney princess couldn't sing?

Bedrooms are really personal places.

Things are hard, and nothing's impossible.

I need some rest. I've been getting weak sleep.
And also twitching.

It's a little bit more comfy.

I want earmuffs.

All the charity. ALL OF IT. Remind myself to fill some shoeboxes.

Away from myself, remember? Everyone is important. But what they think of you does not matter unless you let it matter.

Believe in myself

So I'm bringing friends to my house and we're going to make beautiful music together

...and I'm not going to let myself feel like an amateur.

...in regards to literal music. Not "music". Okay.

My heart is in a strange place

I will not have it affect my actions.

Now I guess I have a heart, because it's aching. I guess. Whatever.

Don't think about it Marius. With all the years ahead of us, I will never go away and we will be together everyday..Everyday, remember that night and the vow that we made. A heart full of love, a night full of you. The words are old, but always true...oh God, for shame, You did not even know my name!

I want to sing this. With meaning. It's so sweet. And romantic.

I guess I'll indulge in romantic daydreaming for now.

But in the middle of the night, who is there to talk to?

When I'm at my lowest low, and I'm wide awake

Everyone else is fast asleep .

How do I not find comfort in a large bed

Or solace in the availability of friends?

How do I ask for help? When I need help, no one is there for the taking. I'm too inconvenient.

The Grumpiest Person in Dinosaur Footie Pajamas

I've always found solace in music.

But I'm so tentative with doing it . My confidence and comfort with music has been shaken recently. Often. I don't like it.

I don't feel I'm good enough for music. Music deserves to be done by people who are good at it

There are times when I don't feel like a musician. Those are all the time z

I've never felt like a musician. I've never felt like a real, thriving, enjoyable musician. I've had, at most, one moment..

But I've always wanted to be a musician. I still want to be a musician. But am I worthy? Am I pretty damn good for being in a non-musical environment and teaching myself everything?

Nope! I have a lot to learn. I don't want to classify myself as a musician. I don't feel good enough

I'm going to dump all my bad thoughts here because, let's face it, they're not important, and there are important things to care about.

I thought I was a fucking good writer

If I can't make it in music then I can't make it in fucking journalism either

What the fuck can I do! I CAN'T FUCKING WIN ANYTHING

IF I'M SO GOOD WHY CAN'T I PROVE MYSELF

WHAT THE FUCK

CAN I BE GOOD AT SOMETHING PLEASE

FUCK JK ROWLING WAS REJECTED A MILLION TIMES BEFORE SHE GPT HARRY POTTER PUBLISHED

WHAT IF I'M LIKE THAT

WHY DO I SUCK

WHY CAN'T ANYONE LIKE ME

WHT's WROG WITH ME WHAT DO I HAVE TO FIX

HOW DO I ACCOMPLISH THINGS

WHY CAN'T I DO ANYTHING

FUCK. THIS ISN't HELPTING

I DON'T WANT TO TRY ANYTHING THAT INCLUDES SUICIDE

BUT I PROMISED MYSELF I WOULDN'T JOKE ABOUT THAT BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE SERIOUSLY DEPRESSED AND I DON'T MATTWR

FUCK PEOPLE REALL DIE GET OVER YOURSELF

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKUCKFUCKFUCKYCJ


That is not all.

I found God

I've found God through music.

I has some musics

http://www.soundcloud.com/ciarlene


Just in case someone's interested.

STOP BEING SO SELF-CENTERED, ME.

I'm a lot less anxious of the future when nobody mentions anything.

Anxiety does not win; confidence and breathing conquers.

On Being a Person Who happens to be a Filipino

I want to be of no race.

Being Filipino, I'm apparently constricted to the mold of a confined personality, appearance, and life. If I break the mold, I am 'not Filipino'.

I don't eat meat.

"Wow. You're so not Filipino."

I hate karaoke.

"You're totally not Filipino!"

I don't care about Pacqiao fights.

"You are not a Filipino."

Well fuck! I guess I'm not! Then what am I? Am I "white-washed"? Am I a dreaded 'Kano? I thought white skin was the best! I thought our ancestors willingly moved to America for the opportunity.

I respect and honor every culture, race, and ethnicity. None is better than or inferior to the other. However, I am a person first. I happen to be Filipino. Being Filipino does not, an will never restrict me to be less of me.

There lies a real, beautiful, Filipino culture, in respect tropical nature, or flower festivals, and the liberation of peoples. In native history and modern literature. In inventions and innovations. The unfortunate thing? It's hidden behind fallacies of the superiority of food, pale skin, behavior, cheap pop culture, mediocre singing, and a possible inferiority complex.

I am Ciarlene. I have brown eyes, dark wavy hair, and am 5'2". I am chubby, I have small hands, and thick eyebrows. I like to create music and crafts. I like theatre. I have pretty good grades and a fast, absorbent intellect. Diversity is fantastic. I am a goody-goody at 17z I am the oldest of four and I believe in God, after rough patches. I'm straight and am not attracted to any specific kind of male.

Also, I happen to be 75% of Filipino descent.

What's more important?

Lamentations of a Self-Aware Teenager

I guess teens would be my pet peeve. As a teenager, I am in the midst of teenagers and can't leave (yet).

I hate to sound bitter/cynical, but this really grinds my gears. By 'this', I mean the topic of...teenagers.

I cannot take seriously adolescents who take themselves so seriously. Enraged hormones lie at the basis for every action, whether it be fooling yourself to think you're in love, fooling yourself to think you're the top of the world, fooling yourself to think you're not a fool with your pants on the ground. Teenagers are so self-centered and sensitive, it's enough to literally drive me crazy. Teens have a horrible lack of ability to appropriately correlate mind and actions; teens can have mature thoughts and immature actions, or immature thoughts and immature actions. [Taking AP classes doesn't always make you smart, kiddoes.]

Now, here's where the complexity kicks in: when I say teenagers, I definitely do not exclude myself. I have ugly emotions, immature thought processes, and the dreaded internal alliance of narcissism and low self-esteem. My hormones also run crazily and a lot of times I want to be lazy, procrastinate, an eat junk. I am a teenager, an I cannot escape that.

"So," ask myself, "how are you able to get your head over stupid waters?"

Well, I have an answer: self-awareness, and all related concepts. I used to be a horribly prime example of a teenager, with obsession to falsely-romantic entanglement (otherwise called "infatuation") and unhealthy freak outs of low and high self-esteem. HOWEVER, however however however...I learn from mistakes. If I do something stupid that doesn't end up well, I DON'T DO IT AGAIN. I gain whatever knowledge I earned from having myself embarrassed/hurt/butthurt, pick myself up as slowly as I need to, and grow. I feel as if I am blessed with enough of a grasp on the concept of myself to actually grow forward, rather than stay in a sedentary sulk of awkward youth and horny substance abuse. I want to benefit and celebrate myself healthily.

Also, as being (as much as it hurts to say) a fellow teenager, I have teenaged friends. Some (most) of my teenaged friends have teenaged problems. Some (most) times they're awfully annoying and self-inflicted, and I literally want to go somewhere far away from them.

But what do I do about it? I swallow my pride and open up my mind an heart to help in whatever way I can. Feelings are feelings, no matter how small. Small feelings can lead to big actions, which can hurt infinitely. A scoop of patience with a dash of perspective is always necessary when connection with teenagers; it's not our fault that our young minds and rushing hormones lead us to mistake-we're only so strong. I'll help as much as I can when drama is self-inflicted, and I'll always open up for actual external issues. No one is perfect, and teenagers are maybe the farthest group of people away from perfect. But there's no one to blame for that, and excessive frustration is completely inappropriate.

Ah crap. I wrote about myself again, with extensive use of "I"s and "my"s. External issues, Ciarlene! External issues!

Photos

Also sometimes I like to pretend that I' a photographer. I got a very very almost undeservingly-nice Nikon DSLR, and I like self-teaching myself (like I like self-teaching almost everything).


I will create a spam of photos.

Introduction

I couldn't keep myself from online blogs any longer.


Tumblr wasn't working too well for me-too many familiar people and acquaintances with a VIP pass to my inner monologues.


There's just something from online blogging that I can't get from writing in my personal journal or directly talking to people. I find some comfort in letting my thoughts free somewhere, outside of my personal holding and out for people to (maybe) see. It's nice to share, isn't it?


I need to make a change in what I care about/post about (so...things other than myself). I know I have cares and concerns outside of myself, so why don't I share them? I need to have a nice, cozy place that's not so lonely to just be myself, both in real life and on the Interwebz.


What will I post about, you (I) ask (myself)? Well, I'm all about body-positiveness, comments on human relationships, awareness of self, spirituality, idle views of current events, and whatever happens to make its way into the tangled workings of my head and heart. And body (I suppose I consider myself a strong advocate of the love for oneself).


I also like popular culture/media (a.k.a. good movies/television), music, theatre, crafts, and other things I can't bring myself to think of because I really have to pee.