Click this if you're an anti-Twilight, err, kind of person. Worth the read.

The writer in my head tells you a story about me.

This is how my day went.

Her bouncing ash brown curls suit her round youthful face; her brown eyes twinkled when she looks at me. She's running around in circles holding a white daisy on her hand, smiling, laughing, giggling. I couldn't help but be happy just seeing her; as if she's the epitome of happiness, the human form of sunshine, of rainbows, and of smiles. I am so proud having her as a daughter; if being a mother feels this good, I shouldn't have thought of it as tiring--

Feliza wakes up, her eyes blurry, and tries to adjust her vision. I dreamt of her again, she sighs to herself, checking the time. It was 8:30AM. She checks her cellphone for messages that was sent during her sleep, and finds a message from her friend, telling her that he missed her. She sighed yet again and got up.

After fixing herself, (when she thought her hair looked decent enough for the day) she went downstairs, skipping on the third step (as it creaks loudly) and finds her brother studying his lessons.

"Has dad gone?" she asked.

"Yeah, he's already gone."

She stood there, blank for a moment, expecting to hear more, probably, (aren't we all confused in the mornings?) and went directly inside the bathroom, thanking the heavens that her mother wasn't using it.

Feliza skipped her breakfast, preferring to eat when she's hungry, but got a big glass full of water and that concluded her breakfast. Maybe it was enough to boost her artistic energy.

Running up the stairs without spilling the water, she went inside the room quietly and drew up the foldable table, grabbed her sketchbook and pastels, and starts scribbling about the page.

That goes on for two hours or more; until her sister wakes up and fixes the bed, and sweeps the floor.

When 11 o'clock comes, she goes downstairs, and cooks the rice. She makes sure that the fire is not too high or too low. Just enough to bring it to a boil after fifteen minutes, she goes upstairs and continues her sketch.

She eats her lunch.
She washes the dishes. (That is if her sister did not volunteer to do it first)
After drying her hands, she grabs the Grade4 Science book and tell sher brother, "Come on, let's do Science now."

"... and so what are the three parts of the large instestine?"

"Uh, ascending... transverse... and, wait, what was that again?"

"Come on, make an effort to think."

"Oh yeah! Descending colon."

"Very good. Questions about the chapter?"

Her brother replies a flat 'no' and they resume to quizzes.

After that, she gets online, charges her phone through the USB chord, checks her e-mail, and gets irritated at the continuous lagging and disappearing windows.

"What the fricking hell is this effing computer doing to my fudging time!" she bursts quietly, so that no one hears her swearing.

And when everything clicks to place, she writes a blog entry, play a bit of Vampire Wars on facebook, (after untagging herself on some pictures, too) and checks every forum that she's registered to, she retires and goes to cook rice again.

And after the night's events (which I don't dare write anymore) she goes to sleep, dream about her daughter again, and wakes up in the morning to find herself living a routinely life again and again.

Is what I feel every night when I've done everything I needed to do; it's always an awkward time for me when it's ten PM: I'm not yet sleepy, yet it's too late to do anything. The other night, you could have plastered a sticker on my back that said 'retarded' because I was basically lying down on the bed, staring into nothing, and doing nothing, waiting for nothing.

Most of it's because I'm bored and could not be bothered by doing anything.
And mostly because I want to get out of the house and do something... productive.

I hope I end my being fifteen with a bang, or something.
And that I might actually do something productive these days.....

I don't want to end up like the people I know who, retarded, and was stuck on it for life. No achievements, no doing nothing.

And, oh, God, I sound retarded.

Bless my soul.

Three names you go by, other than your given name:
1. Rec
2. Feliz
3. Iz

Three screen names you've had:
1. Reccura
2. Zai Zhu
3. Azi Aiturru

Three physical things you like about yourself:
1. My eyes.
2. Ears. Lol.
3. Height.

Three physical things you don't like about yourself:
1. Nose...
2. My right side of the hair. Always fly away.
3. Height.

Three parts of your heritage:
1. Filipino.
2. Spanish.
3. Chinese.

Three things you are wearing right now:
1. Yellow addidas shirt.
2. Blue shorts with polka dots....
3. My necklace.

Three favorite bands/musical artists:
1. Greenday.
2. Enigma.
3. Godsmack.

Three favorite songs:
(At the moment )
1. Tell Her - Jesse McCartney.
2. Touch My Hand - David Archuleta.
3. Scream - Zac Efron.

Three things you'd want most in a long-term relationship:
1. Love.
2. Loyalty.
3. Honesty.

Three physical things about the preferred sex that appeal to you:
1. Eyes.
2. Built.
3. Height.

Three of your favorite hobbies:
1. Reading.
2. Drawing.
3. Slumping.

Three hobbies you'd like to try:
1. Painting using the REAL STUFF everyday.
2. Bake.
3. Run every morning.

Three things that scare you:
1. Thunders.
2. The Dark.
3. Mum.

Three places you want to go on vacation:
1. Portugal.
2. France.
3. England.

Three meals you've cooked for yourself or others in the last week:
1. Eggs.
2. Rice.
3. Meatloaf.

Three careers you have considered/are considering:
1. Culinary.
2. Digital artist.
3. Nursing.

Three current career skills:
1.
2.
3.

-- I wouldn't know that yet.

Three ways you are uniquely you:
1. I can entertain/amuse myself.
2. I can shift moods as easily as you can say 'dog'
3. I can be random and serious at the same time.

Three things you wish with all your heart you could do:
1. Be a bitch and a snob and still be accepted by people. Kind of impossible.
2. Cook a perfect egg.
3. Fly.

Three impossible dreams:
1. Save everyone I love from going to Hell.
2. Finish Tess D'Urbervilles in an hour.
3. To not drink that awful enzyme that my dad seems to have a stock.

Answer it; I'd like to see yours.

The DON'TS to remember:

Don't wait for time. Make it.
Don't wait for love. Feel it.
Don't wait for money. Earn it.
Don't want for the path. Find it.
Don't wait for opportunity. Create it.
Don't go for less. Get the best.
Don't compare. Be unique.
Don't avoid failure. Use it.
Don't dwell on mistakes. Learn from them.
Don't back down. Go around.
Don't close your eyes. Open your mind.
Don't run from life. Embrace and enjoy it.

This has been like my 'guideline' about life; keep an open mind and embrace whatever comes to you, and be happy with what you have, instead of asking the impossibles.

I'm sure time will come when I can finally eat a whole tiramisu cake.
I shouln't pray about it every night.

* * *

Loneliness - The pain of being alone.
Solitude - The glory of being alone.

Is it possible to feel both at the same time?
Why, yes.

I feel it all the time when I'm alone in the mornings, afternoons and night. You enjoy the quietness, the sound of silence-- which sometimes go eeeeeee-- when no one barges in the door and tells you to look for something; the very peace you look for. But it does get lonely when you're at it for a period of time, and you start to look around and say to yourself, "Where is everybody?"

But I just tell myself that I won't be minding their businesses, so long as they don't disturb my peace-bubble when they know I don't want to be disturbed-- I snap at people harshly. Maybe just a wee bit.

* * *

3 THINGS TO WATCH: Speech, Behaviour, Action.
3 THINGS TO CONTROL: Tongue, Temper, Temptation.
3 THINGS TO LOVE: Purity, Honesty, Hardwork.

I couldn't say more.
It's true I watch my tongue, behaviour, and what I do.

One wrong step and I'm quite doomed. Been proven the hard way.

The second one I'm ALWAYS on the lookout for. It's hard to control my tongue, because what I say usually just slips out and produces bad effects (no, I don't swear) especially when I am angry, or irritated.

Temptation I don't think so... I'm highly deprived (in my own little way) of everything at the moment, and I don't see where temptation could be.

And of course, the last, are the actions that are loved and adored.
Who wouldn't want to have those characteristics?

What do you do to attention-seeking-drama-queens?
.
.
.
.
.

Do you burn them, scald their flesh, or pop open their eyes and lunge it down their throats?

Hmm, I should think about the things that I could actually do.

Hack her in all her accounts, make her cry using my tongue, bombard her e-mail with viruses... That's all the 'revenge' I can think of online.

I am feeling severely pissed, and there's nothing I can do but torture her in my thoughts, and pray that she trips somewhere. And have her body rot in the sewers-- I think I'll just keep my thoughts to myself.

Everything is lopsided because she's confused.

So I am thinking I won't be writing much about Satanism-- because 1., I am a coward, 2., I am afraid he'll grab my feet at night, and 3., because it depresses me and it made me go through an emotional breakdown.

Meanwhile, feeling quite emo today, I listened to this song:

Creep ~ Radiohead

When you were here before,
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel,
Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fuckin' special

But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts,
I wanna have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice
when I'm not around
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here, ohhhh, ohhhh

She's running out again
She's running out
She run run run run...
run... run...

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't belong here...

I can very much relate to it, seeing as many people classify me as a creep and a weirdo; my first tag here in blog UK was 'strange', and I don't know who put it. A creep indeed.

And sometimes I feel like I wasnt to exist out of life. Sometimes I feel like breathing and living is such a burden, and feeling so alone slowly kills you from the inside.

The feeling that some times no one cares, no one will ever understand, and you're left alone in your corner of the world.

Meanwhile, I was slightly cheered up when I saw google's picture today:

There was supposed to be a meteor shower today, but hah, it never came.

Just letting you guys know that I am not from San Francisco, Nueva Ecija.

I am from Quezon City, Philippines. I don't think there's a place called San Francisco in here, as far as I'm aware...

It's quite irritating whenever I visit blogs with traffic feed and it shows that. I don't know why. It just hits a nerve.

Well I hope that clears up.

I know it's such a powerful title, the word itself creeps me out, but I've got to write it down.

Since Antonin Glass is nearly finished, I started working on a new story. The drafted title is 'Hunters', five men who came to Earth from Hell. It sounds really pesky and mediocre, but screw that please. Moving on, I needed to research about Hell, about the demons, so I could get my facts straight, and that there would be a little truth to what I'm writing.

So I went to google, searched, "Satanism", and got chilly results.

Some of the highlighted words were 'Church of Satan', 'Signs of Stan'; but I clicked the 'Joy of Satan', powered by angelfire.com.

A quote appeared on the first page, saying,

""THERE IS NO GOD BUT MYSELF"
"KNOWING THIS, WHO DARES WORSHIP THE FALSE GODS OF THE KORAN AND BIBLE?"
-SATAN

And then there were key points to what their religion is all about; but this is what revolted me: Satanism is not about "evil." and True Satanism is about elevating and empowering humanity, which was our True Creator (Satan's) intention.

Then what the heck is it all about, if it's not about evil? And Satan was the creator of us, including God himself? Excuse me?

We have found Satanism is the original religion of humanity. We have done our research. Satanism is based upon the ancient religions that predated Judaism and Christianity from hundreds to thousands of years.

Then I would very much wonder where it all started. If Satanism was the original religion of humanity, why oh why do the Christian Bible sell quickly like pancakes? Why isn't their bible even on the shelves of bookstores? Is it on the restricted section? Very funny.

Spiritual Satanism is a life loving religion. Satan accepts us as we are, but guides us to advance ourselves to where we evolve to a higher level. Spiritual Satanists are free to live their lives as they choose- responsibility to the responsible. We live by natural law and encourage everyone to develop themselves to their fullest extent.

If Satan was such a loving 'Creator' (I won't even darewouldn't there be peace in the world then? Wouldn't we live in a comfortable, safe environment? God and him in a joyful relationship, because they understand each other?

Of all the religions I've read about, researched about, this one is where my blood boiled, where I really felt great hatred, and where I was almost hypnotized.

As I was reading, my mood seemed to have been... altered with. I felt the need to know more about it, to know about the people who worked for Satan, what his 'teachings' were-- I was dead curious. And all the while I read, it's like I already half wanted to join him. Or else as if it was already fixed in me that I'd let him have my soul. It's all confusing and all weird; everything in a daze. There was a time that I thought his demons were cool, because I never knew much about Angels.

And that's just by reading.

How much more can it convince and lure a gullible mind? After I went offline I felt like I've sinned greatly, and I prayed right after, asking for forgiveness.

But after praying, I pondered about what I read again. It distorts the mind. It manipulates you. You can feel it luring you in your veins, telling you to come, telling you to join...

Is that what Satanism is all about? Feeling the dirt in you?
Feeling the 'need' to follow?

And what would happen after Judgement Day has come? You'd be living in Hell with all that life and love, with demons as your pals, everyone at peace with each other?

Then it won't really matter wherever you go, doesn't it?

Satan said that a pyramid is a powerful shape/object because it's pointed at the top. Isn't that where God dwells? When you pray for Satan, where does your head tilt? Up or down?

Writing this exhausts me emotionally. I've got a lot more to say but I think I'll just write it tomorrow. No tags for this post.