:: deer lodge prison ::

If I am to truly understand them, must they must first be objectified?

Thu, 30 Nov 2006 05:34:14 GMT

It is a sad reality, but that is my frame. The one through which I view the world.

The last few weeks of my life have been one big social experiment. I find myself constantly on the sarge, trying to find that delicate balance between demonstrating higher value and toning it down and being myself.

Some of it seems to work, but more often than not, I crash and burn. I am becoming a social robot, as Neil Strauss so despondently puts it. My life seems to be coming to a standstill, ironically as a move toward achieving my goals. Along the way, people I care about, or should care about become objectified. Ultimately, I need to ascend, to find that higher plane of thought where everything just comes naturally.

People are like objects, they're made to be used.

As dehumanizing as that sounds, I find myself thinking a lot about it. This person provides validation in the sense that they make me feel intelligent. This person provides validation through sex. This person helps me with my homework, they provide me with company and social proof. Not only is this line of thinking degenerative of my thinking of others, it degrades me too. I am human as well as all the others, yet as I degrade them to elevate my own self-image, it doesn't help.

He cannot be my friend if he does not serve some sort of purpose.

Like most of my other problems, I percieve it even though I am living it. This may be a useful and healthy frame to people more Machiavellian than I, but I can't see myself viewing other people that way. However, this is my frame, and I'm buying into it, even though I shouldn't.

What's the point of all this? That's easy. I need a life. =p

When I am gone, the world will stink of me.

Sun, 29 Oct 2006 03:54:02 GMT

My world is surrounded by talent.

I've met, seen, associated with and am related to people who seem to live the life. Their occupations include music, modelling, acting, writing, you name it. Everywhere I look it seems as though I meet another person who lives the life of an artista. My relatives, friends, acquaintances, you name it. There's someone there.

It makes me wonder what I'm doing. It's that quixotic desire to surpass each and every one of them. What I love about being a guy is that you don't need good looks and a preppy disposition to succeed in life.

For now though, I'll be watching Cruel Intentions on my laptop. Fun fun. :D

This won't be so elongated.

Sat, 28 Oct 2006 16:53:53 GMT

I checked my MySpace for the first time in a long while, and naturally there's friend requests, comments, birthdays and all else waiitng for me. Kinda like presents under the Christmas tree. I especially love comments.

This is my favorite outta the comments box. From an old friend.

"dont push it carl
calling me things like that will get you de-friended"

Slight background: I made some picture comment agreeing with a friend of mine saying that she looked like a slut in the picture. Even though we were both joking - or at least I was. So I don't have the right to kid? Fuck you.

I hate being misunderstood, so I commented back saying I was kidding. T'was truth, because I never insult people unless I have a reason.

Still though, as if it's such a big deal to be defriended by her. I hate how some people can just be so full of themselves and have this illusion that the entire world kisses their ass because they're attractive.

Oh well, she'll get her reality check sooner or later.

In the meantime though, it's naptime for me. It's sembreak, so I'll be updating this thing more often. Sweet dreams.

I'm a sick boy.

Mon, 02 Oct 2006 16:32:18 GMT

Something is wrong with me, and I don't know what.

There seems to be a hole draining my emotional resources. I'm not sure what to fill it with yet. It's slowly but surely eating away at my academics, my relationships, my aspirations, my life. I don't know where it came from, or why it's there.

Maybe some unknown someone pushed a button in my subconscious to send me down this crazy cycle of whirlwind emotion. Maybe it's just that time of year, October. It's that time when my confidence is on overdrive, but so are my insecurities. The time where I feel like some fragile see-saw constantly being teetertottered by interactions forcing my mood to either direction. Land on just the right side and no one can stop me. Land on the other and I'll rain on your parade.

It was less than a week ago that I had someone I'd recently met bawling over the phone telling me she wanted me, and it was just a while ago I had someone telling me how she thought I was ugly, inside and out. One minute you're letting go of someone for being needy, the next you're being told that you're a rotten apple. Talk about teetertottering. Talk about bringing up details of your personal life up on display. Talk about something I'll probably edit out later out of embarrassment and sheer assholism. I need to get out more. I need alcohol. I need a one-night stand. I need help.

I've tried filling the hole with women. However, I often point out to my friends that a relationship is supposed to be two wholes. Not two halves, not one and a half. As of now, I am a person halved, a state not conducive for concocting any sort of romance. I'm resigned to failure because I am not happy. It's a given. Happy people attract happy people. Miserable people...well...sometimes attract other miserable people and do misery together. Ironically, misery and hate are my comforting emotions. I refer to the latter girl in that previous paragraph as "that cold bitch." Call me narcisstic. It's not everyday I get shut down like that. When I do though, it's usually a sign something's wrong with my interaction. Something's wrong with my game.

Your inner state is directly influential to your outer state. Basically, I fucked up because there's something wrong inside. Still though. That fuckin' glass ho. That cold bitch. That cocksmoker. That goddamn piece of trailer-park trash.

Yeah, I'm bitter. It'll go away eventually. Promise.

My blockmates seem to be growing distant. Even if I am shifting, what's keeping me from going to the smockets to say hello every now and then? What happened to the Carl who was over-the-top? What happened to the horny eccentric guy we all liked to joke about? The guy who tried to get over his perpetually serious mug and become a boon to be around? Hell, "Carl Decides To Give Head"? Sure, why not?

I've been asked on more than one occassion if I'm alright. It usually amounts to the fact that I'm not being myself. I'm not the only one who notices I'm being a drag. Looking back through the year and a few months I've been here, a drag was the last thing I wanted to be. That was, and still is my tragic flaw. I'm like the scorpion in that parable about the frog and the scorpion. I sting because it is my nature.

I can't let this happen to me. I'm too proud to turn to that seemingly snobby cluster of Ayala Alabangers who used to be my batchmates for a year in high school. Then again, maybe I was the snobby one. Too afraid of getting hurt. Too afraid of their culture. Too angry at the world for returning me to the environment I'd held such a superiority complex over for so many years. I can't bring it to myself to judge them, but I find them cold as well. Hard to relate to. My soul does not interface with theirs the way it interfaces with my friends.

My friends are really all I've got in this campus. I love them. I appreciate every nice thing, every wave, every smile that they throw at me. I love the conversations that go on about nothing in particular. The fact that people acknowledge and enjoy your company is already something to be thankful for, and I'm taking it for granted.

I should be shot. I've been so counterintuitive it's ridiculous.

On a side note, I've found a new interest in hypnosis and NLP. Should account for something if I'm eyeing a psychology degree.

Hey, no one ever told me your shrink had to be sane.

Weather report. Well, maybe.

Fri, 29 Sep 2006 08:11:56 GMT

Anyone who lives anywhere in Luzon probably knows about the typhoons that cancelled school for two days (including today, and hopefully Saturday as well), so I probably don't need to go on describing in detail the havoc that's been wreaked on the mainland. Rooftops wrecked, billboards toppled over, trees partially uprooted and causing roadblocks, debris scattered across the highways and small streets. If you don't have one already, I guess this may give you an idea.

In spite of this, I'm here at school, with my trusty laptop, typing away at my LJ when in fact I should be working on two projects for Lit, taking our ES project out of developmental limbo, finalizing my plant care project report, ugh, the list goes on. We haven't even started with math and the goddamn Taekwondo finals (which I won't be fighting in, but still have to participate and be present at).

This is freshman year. I'll be shifting in the summer so I'll have some extra summer classes to worry about. Couple that with the prospective extra chem classes with their 4-hour labs, and you have yourself a pretty sore individual. Sore, yes, but by no means a loser.

On another note, Robert Kiyosaki and my dad seem to have a lot in common. Except my dad's not a millionaire...at least not yet. Haha. I've been reading some of his material and it puts a smile to my face. It made me realize why my parents don't (and shouldn't) care what my course in college is.

You don't get rich at work, you get rich at home. Your work should be what you love doing, instead of something you do to catch up to your bills. The trick is to make money work for you, instead of working for money.

For more info, check out Rich Dad Poor Dad and Rich Kid Smart Kid.

What a day to start a blog.

Mon, 25 Sep 2006 15:30:11 GMT

And just when I'm in the middle of writer's block, among other things.

The past few days have seen me being a total ass and making a total ass out of myself. I look at myself these days and think "Damn, what a cold bastard I've become." I find myself not bothering with things I'd normally do to make people's days a little brighter. Where I used to include a smiley in my text messages, I'll just plain ignore it, or if someone's thanking me, apologizing for something, or just plain saying anything to me, I'll just be like "Yeah, whatever." I just don't care how people feel anymore, when before I used to really give a damn.

I'm starting to take people for granted, and I feel it'll bite me in the ass later. Oh well, that's later.

I got shouted at in class twice last week. The first was during ES lab, while I was discussing some assignment with a friend of mine, whispering in his ear (which was stupid, we were right up front, where the teacher could see us) about how we'd do our plant care results. Just then, someone from the back called my name, so of course, I turned around to face her.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!"

The teacher fucking snapped. The person behind me didn't want my attention, she was trying to point it at the teacher. Boy, was I screwed. After getting blasted in front of the entire fucking class, the best thing I did was to keep a straight face. Normally, I'd make some lame excuses and explain the situation to whoever would listen, but somehow I didn't. Wow, maybe I've become smarter.

The second time was during our Saturday Fil class. We had these group presentations on certain stories that week, and after each group's presentation, the class was allowed to form a panel of questions. It just so happened that I had a question on foreshadowing, which I asked.

To save myself the trouble of description and any readers from sifting through the messy details, I'll just put up the bare-bones dialogue of that scenario. Looking at this, Hemingway would puke.

"Were there any instances of foreshadowing in the story?"

"Yes, there were, as a matter of fact...[goes on about the TYPES of foreshadowing presented in the story, and not the INSTANCES, which is what I asked for]"

"Yes, but were there any instances of foreshadowing?"

At this point, my classmate snapped.

"Did you even READ the story?"

"Were we supposed to?" Puzzled look on my face.

"What're you doing, asking questions just for the sake of asking them!" Her tone intensified.

"I'm in the middle of answering your question and immediately you follow up with another one! What do you think you're doing?! Do you even know what you're talking about?"

Up to now, I don't know why I didn't point out that that was what I was asking for in the first place. Perhaps it would've turned into a bigger argument. Something any half-asleep individual doesn't need. Especially when their presentation's up next.

Just an aside, our presentation sucked. I'm gonna feel so assed out on Saturday. -_-;
As for the lack of coherence and flow in this entry, cut me some slack. It's been a while.