You don’t know me.

You don’t know my passions, my dreams, my fears, and my faults.

You don’t know how many times chills have run down my spine whenever I would hear Led Zeppelin’s Since I’ve Been Loving You at MSG, 1973, or the times I stay still whenever I would listen to a symphony play Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor.

You don’t know how much effort I have put when I would play the guitar on my own without a guitar teacher, all the while my academic performance has always been mediocre at best, and I did it because I loved the tunes that I am capable of producing with the guitar, I loved the sensation of having my calloused fingers glide across the strings, the pounding, lifting, fast-paced rhythm that would get me rushing… it was through it that I was able to listen to the other voices within me that I have been suppressing throughout my life, and that in life, it was alright to feel these diverse emotions. I never really appreciated a bubbly pop song that dwells on happiness. I was more into mellow songs with bittersweet themes, and I believe that my life is somewhat like that. These changing themes are possible because without these elements, you could not produce a song that would be meaningful. Same goes with life.

You don’t know that I indulge myself in the arts, and would rather pursue humanities than the program that I am taking up, if I were well off in the first place. I have learned to love this program, yes, and perhaps in the long run I would thank myself for staying in it, but like Prince Rhaegar, I was torn between my Elia and my Lyanna–my duty to myself, or the passion that I possess. At times I would like to leave everything behind, and just cloister myself away from the world in hopes of regaining the energy that I had lost and the flame that had been slightly extinguished. But I’m not brave nor am I that brazen to do so. I fear for my despair in the future for when I have no money at my disposal. I’m certain that everyone is. Love is not all you need. Love can’t pay the bills. Love can’t afford such a lavish lifestyle. Love involves contentment, something that I have yet to master.

You don’t know how many times I have watched 10 Things I Hate About You and smile because I see myself as Kat Stratford, and how deep down, ever since the first time I watched that movie, I’ve been wishing for my own Patrick Verona too–someone who would see me for who I am despite my silence, my moments when I could get very irritable, my sarcasm, my indifference.

You don’t know about my dreams of traveling to Europe. This was one of the reasons why I pursued my program too. I never wanted to become a doctor, and I thought that my program was easier than it looks, but it feels as if Europe becomes more attainable in the situation I am now. You don’t know that I am practically dragging myself to school everyday just so that I could pass; though I want to learn, the feeling of having to meet a deadline for understanding all this information is constricting, and I genuinely want to learn, yet I need some air too. I was never studious to begin with. I never studied seriously unless it were exams and Math. I barely passed Biology in first year high school. But because I am in this program, I became a different person. I studied more, but it was more of a life-death situation. If I don’t study, it would be the death of my college life. And I hate it. I hate having to commit to deadlines when I am dead serious over learning something. Deadlines turn it into an obligation, and I run away from obligations.

You don’t know the anxiety that I would get whenever I would log in and open his profile, and the times that I had told myself not to keep in touch with him anymore. We were best friends, but before I knew it, it just happened, and everything was beyond my control. I never told him throughout the course of our friendship, and when I did, I decided to cut ties with him. We would never return to what we once were before that, and a long distance relationship wouldn’t work out. Plus, he never saw me in that light–to him, I was just a kid, and he never forgot the fact that I was 6 years younger than he was.

These are my stories. These comprise who I am. But apparently, you see me differently, and so as with other girls. You treat me as if you know my shades, that I am an open book, and that I am a girl no different from the others. My shades are not of black and white alone; I could be an open or closed book, depending on my mood; I am not different from other girls, yes. We have our similar traits. But don’t treat me like how you usually treat them. It’s not because I perceive myself to be superior over them, but because I deserve respect as a person. And at this rate, you are not being a respectful man.

You don’t know me, so don’t confine me to this entity with whom you can resort to when your self-esteem has reached an all time low… again. Because I am more than that.



I am grateful for the events that had transpired today. Being able to relax with the family… such things are what I find meaningful and would ponder on during late nights.

I’ve been trying to find the cause of this emptiness, or perhaps a reason as to why it exists in the first place. I’d like to believe that I found the answer, but then I’m too young to even be the judge of it. Is it because the thoughts which trigger these feelings of emptiness mean so much that its mere absence could make you feel as if you are missing something?

But in actuality, the things that make us feel the most are the ones which we think do matter in our lives. They mean something to us.

Lately, I’ve been thinking if I could ever mean so much to another person to an extent… it feels as if it’s hardly possible. I’d like to believe that it’s possible, but I’ve always known myself to be overly idealistic, and could create realities in my head that are too good to be true. I’m aware of that weakness of mine, and I know it too well for others to use it against me.

Lately, I’ve been filled with so much doubt. Attempting to resolve this conflict, I’ve been seeking validation through my environment and convincing myself that my own validation is all that I’d ever need, but even I can’t understand this side of mine that cares about the opinions of others. I don’t understand how my emotions move me to do things that my thoughts would find irrational and reckless. I do know it’s not a sin to be whoever you want to be, especially the person whom you think you are, but I was thinking that perhaps I could develop that “thinking” function of my personality even more, without having to compromise on emotions.

Or is it because I feel too much, to the point that I’d have manic tendencies?

It does run in the family though.

I want to be sure of everything, but it’s not turning out so well.

According to Your will, Almighty God.