What Happy Looks Like

rainy days 
long talks 
sunshine after the rain 
cupcakes 
puppies that sleep long enough to poke and annoy 
caramel-drenched ice cream 
watching ballet
writing poetry 
watching sunsets 
looking at stars
running on the seashore
DIY
classical music 
old movies
walking barefoot in sand
lazy Saturday mornings
coffee and talks
'Good morning' texts
caramel popcorn
jumping waves
long bike rides
airplane window views
a day curled up in a hotel bed doing nothing
indie music sound-tripping 
helium balloons
doodling
sunrises
talking to little kids
bathroom concerts
the smell of a new book
pressed flowers
finding size 9 shoes that fit me
breaking a new book's spine
travelling
making new friends
stolen glances
1990's and early 2000's cartoons
new books

And the list goes on. 
(And yes, This is What Happy Looks Like by Jennifer Smith is driving me nuts)

Day 10: First 10 Songs on Shuffle

1. 93 Million Miles by Jason Mraz
2. Girl of the Year by FM Static
3. Enchanted by Taylor Swift (Cover by Adam Young)
4. Yellow by Coldplay
5. You Picked Me by A Fine Frenzy
6. Crushcrushcrush by Paramore
7. Emma by Imagine Dragons
8. Daylight by Matt and Kim
9. It Will Rain by Bruno Mars
10. Sunday Morning by Maroon 5

(I may or may not have cheated on this one. Nyahahaha.)

Day 9: How Important You Think Education Is

School is hard. That's undeniable. But during one of our classes just a few days ago, we were made to see the reality of how many people are privileged enough to go to school. 

Coming from a school where majority of students are well-off, this doesn't seem like much of a reality to us, considering we know that all of us are going to college. 

I guess it's a gift that's taken advantage of over and over and over again by so many people while a lot of people, on the other hand, are yet to find ways to get that gift. 

Estranged

</3

Yes, by the looks of that broken heart emoticon, this'll be another rant but because of homework and other things that caused me a hiatus, I'll keep this one short and not necessarily too sweet. 

3 words: I want distance. 

I'm on the verge of giving up. Yes,it gets tiresome listening to everything you say about 'that person whose place I'd love to be in right now' and it's even more tiresome to see you using up precious time for something that you and I both know you'll never have. 

Upon friends'advice, I'm extending (more like painstakingly trying to) my patience. They told me that maybe its too soon for me be hands-off completely--that I might not be there when you really really really need me. (Well, obviously that tugged on my heartstrings)So,there. We're not completely alienated yet but whatever's holding us together is slipping away as fast as my patience is. 

Kbye.

Pandemonium, Chaos, Insanity and Bedlam? Yeah, Blame Me

I haven't even spent an entire week in Senior Year and I already want to crawl back into summer and sleep forever. OMG. It's just so not what I'm used tooooo. *creys* No, well, homework and all of course but the quantity of it and what's expected of us has totally leveled up.

Okay, so about my title, I seem to find it fitting that the Greek mytho character assigned to me, (Greek mytho impersonations are basically some of the most awaited parts of the Senior schoolyear. I just don't get why it has to be so early on. :'() Pandora, as most of us know unleashed chaos, bedlam and so on and so forth into the world because of her curiosity. 

Welp, I believe entering Senior year is me opening Pandora's box. It's chaotic. 
Oh, and the lid is hard to put back right now. These evil sprites of looniness, hunger, failures, broken nails and bad hair days are aggressive. 

Oh, but yes, bring it on, Senior Year. 

The Beginning of The End

Nope. Not the apocalypse. 

Today marked the beginning of my last year in high school. Honestly, unlike other people, I was super excited for the first day of school. And because I am very very very much unlike normal human beings, I woke up at 4 am. Yes, 4 am for my 7:20 classes. Oh, and my house is just a 6-minute drive to school. So, maybe this was because i was excited for my Jillian Michaels work out but meh, I guess I was just super stoked for school. 

It's always that feeling of wanting to see my friends again every single day and not have to worry about having mom and dad come home to a house in disarray since all of us were out for the whole day. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for academics but the need to see my classmates overpowered that. 

Naturally, the class proper went by slow for me but the 3 hours I spent with my friends afterwards went by like three minutes. 

Ah, so this is my official goodbye to sunglasses, beaches, all day internet sprees, ombre shorts, flipflops, shopping sprees, hopes for summer love, hopes for summer tans and my pathetically fractionally fulfilled summer bucketlist. 

This isn't too much of a post since I guess there's nothing to write yet considering that today's just the beginning. 

SY 2013-2014, let's dance.

Day 8: What You Ate Today

Some people call it Cookie Butter. I call it spreadable heaven. :3

Since the hullabaloo about this gingerbread-ish spread started, I always wanted to taste it. Then, yesterday my Cookie Butter virginity was broken.  And yes. I have no words to worthily describe the experience. Just do what the jar says that to understand this heavenly treat, you'll have to taste it. :)

(Off to pig out on more Cookie Butter sandwiches)

Day 7: 5 Pet Peeves

Lazy, lazy, lazy. That's my explanation but I'm back on track soooo,

YAY! A blog post where I get to talk about stuff I hate!
Here goes nothing!

1. Know-it-alls. When you can explain something in just a sentence, kindly do so. Save flowery words and words with more than 15 letters in them for vocabulary in English class and no one really cares if you can memorize all the elements of the periodic table, their discoverers, their atomic weights and in which household items you can find them. 

2. Line cutters. We all know one of these.

3. People with no respect for my books. Hmm, this includes spine breakers, doggy-earers, cover folders, page rollers and overdue borrowers. Honestly, I think I'm the only person with the right to destroy my books. (Meehee)

4. Excessive worriers. Life is stressful enough. People, especially leaders who can't take stress well and worry and go crazy and are borderline irritating (more like sanity-robbing) are just the worst. 

5. People who play music on their phones in public vehicles. Dude. Stop. Just--stop.

Little Things

No, this post has nothing to do with the dearly loved boyband. 
As I've noticed, most of my posts have been laced, garnished and served with a whole lot of negativity. So, here's what I'd like to call my "Happy Post". This is obviously a post of all the little superficial things that make me smile. 

So basically, here's a quick explanation from L-R from top to bottom:

1. My undying love for Gossip Girl
2. Cheesy fries
3. My first pair of Keds
4. Chocolate
5. Basically anything animal-ish and plush
6. Sunsets
7. My fantasy world in writing
8. Bubbles
9. Pink peonies
10. Ballet (which I used to do and still adore)
11. Science
12. TFIOS and all things John Green
13. Waaaaffles
14. A few sorts of video games
15. Lace and bows
16. Carousels and amusement parks in general (That includes laser tag)
17. Piano
18. All things geek
19. Coffee: My life companion
20. All things Italian
21. AS TOLD BY GINGER (From childhood to moody adolescence) 
22. Biking
23. Stars
24. My dreams of making it big in New York

So, there. I hope that breaks my frown-y streak. 

:D

Aaaand bipolarity prevails.

Poured Out

I have to admit. My last post was horrid. It was long, sappy and over all, horrid. I personally told some of my closest friends to read it with the very specific warning that they might end up throwing up. And yes, undeniably, I gave them headaches last night. 

I gave myself one too. 

I can't say I spent the entire night unable to sleep because of the amount of stupid guts I put into that post, not to mention emotion I'd scraped out to make that post. Okay. 

I'll try not to make this post as sappy as the last one but I guess I need to keep venting. 

After that humongous downpour of emotions yesterday, I wish I could say that now, I feel better about how I feel about that certain person. But the entire time I was awake last night and even now, I could just never stop thinking about how empty-feeling I am. 

I know. it's weird, emo, blaaargh, whatever. I just feel totally lame and empty and alone and How to Save a Life's been playing over and over and over again in my head. 

He hasn't reacted yet, of course but, gahhh, I'm having second thoughts about that post. 

I can't delete it right now since I might end up regretting that but yeah. There's that feeling: empty. 

You. (Yes, You)

[Warning: This post has been heavily influenced by too many lonely As Told by Ginger marathons this summer and morning coffee coursing through my veins. Will be highly cheesy and emotional. You have been warned. Plus, it's really really, long. And if you feel like this post is about you and feel freaked out, you don't have to finish reading. If you feel uncomfortable considering it might be you I'm talking about, for the cosmos's sake, stop reading.]

Hello stranger,

We know each other far too well to be strangers. We're joint at the hip, in fact. We're each other's shadows, each other's can't-be-seen-without... It hasn't been too long since we first started talking to each other but we've gone a really, really, really long way from being just acquaintances. You basically know everything about me and I basically know everything about you. We can barely keep secrets from each other or at the very least, stop talking to each other. As I've said, we're each other's shadows. Where one goes, the other's bound to be close by. I could go on and talk about how close we are but that isn't the point.I just want it to come across, first of all that we are no where close to being oblivious of each other's existence. So, now, I guess it's funny of me to call you stranger.

I'm making myself a stranger to you and in the process, making you a stranger to me. My walls are going up while I'm tearing our bridges down. I'm sorry for that, Stranger. It's just that I can't stop. I don't want to keep doing it but I just can't stop.

There's just this horrible weird feeling I get every time we meet face to face now. Every time we talk,it feels like I'm talking to a person I don't know at all. Now,I act like I have to impress you every time we meet. Before you start thinking, I'll tell you, it's not your fault, I promise. I just don't get why it feels so different around you now. It's like we have force fields that make us repel off each other. I don't like it that way at all. I just want things to be back to normal--me feeling comfortable around you, not having to wear pressed powder or worry about how I look when we meet up, us calling each other bitch and just hollering at each other wherever we go. You might say that we still do all this but I swear to you, if you were in my shoes, you'd understand that they don't feel the same at all. 

It's not your fault. Really,it's not and  honestly, I'm not too sure whose fault it really is. I can blame myself, though, for the mean time. I can't always go on blaming my idiot hypothalamus for making me go head over heels over for you, but I guess I made a mistake somewhere down this path. Sometimes, I hate myself for making that happen--that weird encounter we had in my living room. I didn't really think those five words would drive me deeper into this totally weird emotion I'm wallowing in right now but I guess it did. 

I'm pouring my heart out right here, right now on the worldwide web where just about anyone can see how pathetically stricken I am by you--even you can see this, but that's not my biggest fear. Well, I did put thought into every word I penned onto this post right now but what's there to fear when I know you already know the entire truth of it all?

There's a difference to knowing what's going on inside my head   and actually believing what I've told you. It was my fault, probably, stranger, that you seem to be an unbeliever of my confession. I have to admit, it was uncalled for. it did put our friendship and everything in between at risk. It was  a stupid idea. A really stupid one. And it was more stupid of me to laugh at my own words. Could I have expected you to take me seriously when I couldn't take myself seriously? 

Meh. 

This post is probably going to be me pouring diesel and tossing a match at the last bits of bridges we have left from the ones I've dessicated with a mental sledgehammer. And it might also be the one thing that would grow my mental protective walls to 400 feet all around me but what's the worst I could do after saying it in your face? 

I know well enough from what you tell me and what I force myself to keep listening to that I won't ever be the girl to you. Like, ever. No. I know that and now that I know how excruciating it is to listen to and sing along to that certain Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat song and get feels, I get why you've always to leave this 'zone'. Singing along to it and only being able to relate to the words that regard myself and despise the lines that supposedly include how you feel make me realize how sucky being in this 'zone' feels. I know you get how I feel but this is just to bash the ever-made-popular idea that girls never get put into this twilight zone. 

Stranger, I've made an agonizingly long post here and even I don't see the point of it. I don't get why I'm bearing myself all out like this simply because I'm secure that you already know what I feel about you. I don't get why I want you to understand that I was serious when I'm supposed to be reveling in the fact that you kept it cool between us. Seriously. I don't get why I'm letting myself drive me to typing all this! 

Meh. 

Just humor me for these next few lines, stranger--the way we humored my little 5-worded confession to you. I can't stop thinking of you and how stupid I was for not ever knowing that you were there for me all along. You really were. We laughed together, we fought and at least once, I've soaked your shoulder with my tears, literally. I was exuberant when I found out and confirmed to myself that my feelings for you were real. But that was back when I saw you as my rock and the anchor that kept me on my feet when everything tried to knock me down. Now, you're one of those things that'll make me trip and I made you that way. Humor me when I say this in every way I know, or better yet, don't read this or forget that I ever wrote it: As Chuck and Blair fought about and all, I just want to say 3 words and 8 letters that could alter the course of my entire universe. I love you. 143. ILY. Je t'aime. Wo ai ni. I ove-lay ou-yay. 

Yes, I said it in pig Latin. I am that  serious. I just hope you humored me enough to finish reading this post.

You're close, actually and congrats for enduring this literary mess. 

So, stranger, I know this post would one way or another reach you and it'll be my loss and not yours if you read this. See what an obsessed, boy-worshiping fangirl I am. You won't be new to it. I used to do this stuff a lot in front of you... Only that now, it's about you. And if you still don't believe me after I tear my heart out and shamelessly bear it out here on the internet, at least you can listen to those people who'd read this and actually believed in what I felt. All these 1,437 words that’ll appear once I press this annoyingly orange publish button is how serious I am about what I'd said that fateful day in March.

 I don't need you to love me. I know you do but just not in the way that I love you. All I want from you is for you to believe what I'd said and if it isn't too much to ask, I'd like you to pick up a big ass sledgehammer and tear down these walls I've made. 

Affectionately, 

Danielle

PS. Yes, I know how stupid I am. I don't blame you for thinking that. 

[And now, I'm just going to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment and utter sadness. My heart... It hurts... Really bad. And you won't be here to let me cry]

[Eh.]