migblog

oh, how i wish i could just write and not worry about somone else grading it... but as is the story of this entire university and the rest of my time here, i'm gonna have to write to impress people, only sometimes to inform them, but more often than not it's the former rather than the latter. i hate that, though, it makes me feel as if i'm whoring my skill to express myself for other people to judge my capability to think. it's disgusting.

then i think, wait, miguel, come on -- you're writing on an online weblog, one that people can access any freaking time of any freaking day from any freaking computer. aren't i writing to impress whoever's gonna come to this site and look at whatever i have to say, how awesome the layout looks, how i now have my own domain name, at how deep my thoughts can be while i can stay purely superficial?

there comes a point in web publishing, much like in any regular writing, that there's a line drawn somewhere set ultimately by the publisher himself to define how much of himself he wants to expose, to say, 'here i am, look at me,' to show other people how much stuff is floating around in his head and how he can organize his thoughts just as well on a canvas that translates code to display on a browser as on a piece of paper or a cotton layer with lead and graphite or acrylics and temperas. i wish i could let it all just hang out, per se, but i think in the end i'd be doing whoever's reading this a disservice rather than an in-depth look inside my head.

as truthful as i want to be, there really are things that need to stay unsaid, until of course you reach that breaking point wherein you're trying to just stay sane.

i've never had a problem expressing who i am, except maybe in junior high where i was the perfect wallflower. i was the weird new kid, transferring in from god-knows-where, looking all crazy and having apparently no accent at all. eighth grade, same thing, only this time, i had friends that would transfer to different high schools or would just not keep in touch with. in high school, my freshman year was one of the most defining moments of my life. it led me to be in the band, to meet a core group of friends that i would eventually stick with for the rest of my high school career (and am proud to say that i still am very good friends with them), and to be an honors student. i was in so many social circles -- the band geeks, the orch dorks, the honors crowd, the halfway nerds... by the end of high school, people knew who i was, and that felt good, to be recognized by your peersfor being yourself.

now it's the second semester of my college life, and things have changed so much already. of my high school friends that went to berkeley, i see none regularly; of the core group of friends in high school that i had, i talk to three regularly (which is an unfortunately small number); of the friends i have here at cal, nobody really knows what's going on inside my head. it's tough sometimes when all i have to talk to is my worn blue sketchbook that serves as a journal, and sometimes this laptop of mine that can double as a web-publishing tool, but when i need to talk to someone and i know that no one's going to understand me, it's tough. the silence that can happen in this very room, when the only sounds you hear are clickety-clacks of a computer keyboard or the subtle taps on the left mouse key, it can drive you mad.

and what am i trying to say? absolutely nothing. it's not as if i had anything better to do, because if i posted the goings-on of my everyday life, you will be bored as hell. you will know my monday-wednesday-friday schedule just as well as my tuesday-thursday schedule, that everyday will somehow seem to repeat itself. i can't believe myself that there's only about a month of instruction left for the semester... i guess i'm just in an extremely reflective mood lately since i'm overwhelmed with so many things at once.

yesterday was so crazy, what with going to lecture and then finishing up a paper and finishing up more papers and getting a writing assignment and interviewing people for a magazine article and meeting for a presentation and practicing and not sleeping until about 2. and today, even more crazy, with oral workshop, non-lunch, another lecture, another meeting, more busy work, and rehearsing for wind ensemble. it's really a wonder how someone can manage that much time and cram thirty-six hours into a twenty-four hour day.

my relationships with people are bit off-kilter. i've reconnected with my core, with megan, mikey, nate, carie, and band friends from high school, but the relationships i've formed here at cal i think are weirding me out. my roommates and i have gotten closer and at the same time more distant, my friends are all of a sudden busier, and the dynamics among me and a few people have drastically changed. needless to say, change is inevitable, but it was nice when everything went a little smoother and not everything was stretched and stressed out. i've made new connections, reconnected old ones, and strained the ones i've wanted to keep. there's a lot of work and a lot of difference talking to someone over aim or through an email and talking to them face-to-face.

which brings me back to those friends i haven't seen in a while. i miss you all terribly, that sometimes i wish i could just go back there and hug each and every one of you even if you don't remember who i am anymore. those friends i had in the ateneo, those friends that i had in middle school, those friends i had in high school, those friends, these friends, i have now, these friends who i know know me way too well yet at the same time know nothing. these friends are the people i care for the most, dare i even say moreso than family. we've gone through a lot of shit together, and sometimes i just want to thank you guys for everything you've done for me. no matter how long or short i've known you -- if you're joseph in manila, ryan in abu dhabi, miho in japan, miriam in germany, wes in australia, andrea in anaheim, bruce in boston, ladan in san francisco, jacob in my room, jon in rockridge, megan in los angeles, jay in vanderbilt, kim in san diego, nick in davis, shereen a few blocks away, liam in ireland, christina in virginia, or hell, if you're reading this -- i thank you so much for having been a part of my life, for leaving a dogear in this one chapter that's obviously not sprawled out for just everyone to see. (seems kinda oxymoronoic to be posting that on a blog, isn't it?)

this post might seem too long. it probably is, but i have a lot of things to say.

writing for the sake of writing, without getting a mark for it in the end... that's what i hope to accomplish with this little sucker here. whether you like it or not, i can actually care less since it's what i write, and not what you tell me to write. that's where the beauty of this thing comes from. it illicits a response that you wouldn't have felt otherwise. it's the ultimate in meeting something halfway, in forming a relationship with the author and the reader: that the author has some form of representation through his work, and that the reader, in some capacity, will try to understand that point of view presented to him. it's amazing what kind of relationship that is, so voluntary and so mandatory, to command your attention while you have the power to stop reading at anytime.

i feel kinda bad for how i've been acting the past few days -- a bit more stoic and apathetic to the general cause, something to the effect of living for myself since it's my life -- yet i have no urge to apologize for what i did, since i was just being myself, driven purely by my head and what i thought would be best for me. it can easily come across as selfish (and to an extent, it probably was), but i guess it's just in my nature to act like this since i've grown up like this. it's a weak argument, for sure. it's just the fact that i can't seem to explain myself any further than i can.

trying to explain myself to other people is one of my biggest peeves. if ihave a bad day, for example, the most you'll probably ever get out of me is a "meh" or even a "nothing, i'm fine" since about seventy bajillion people have asked the same question before you, and that i've answered them with the most meticulous details, and now i'm just repeating myself because no one else was paying any attention. you try it sometime: you'll see how quickly a question can get on your nerves and frustrate the hell out of you by the third asking.

i feel like i should be talking to somebody about this, but i guess writing it out is the simplest way for me to do this. if you end up reading this, you just found out a nice big chunk about me, and if you didn't, well, you'd be lying to yourself, otherwise, you wouldn't be reading this line had you not read this. (i've confused myself, don't worry.) it's that silence again, creeping past every curve of my surroundings, the keyboard maliciously click-clacking away, to a rhythm that resembles evil laughter and a pained expression of processing thoughts into actions into something that you'll see on a browser, one mouse-click away from the rest of the world.

for now, i'll just sit in my corner and appreciate the silence. maybe i'll put some headphones on and jam on some wilco or coldplay or radiohead, but at least i'll be sitting. if i impressed you, let me know. i promise i'll try to stay away from that next time.

posted by Open Source Food @ 10:44 PM