Happiness is…?

“Happiness is…”

Recently, I encountered an intriguing item in one of my many college entrance exams and it has not left my train of thoughts ever since I laid my eyes upon it. It was in the section where the purpose was to get to know the examinee better, I suppose. The items there created different routes that would help define who as a person by taking note of your responses to different things in your life. One item there had something to do with happiness and what it means to you. There were only four items: A, B, C, and D. I do not recall everything but the choices had something along the lines of “having inner peace” and others of the like. However, one particular item hit bulls-eye on what was running on my head that time. Among the more common answers about happiness stood one that people laughed about upon exiting the testing venue. It was not a laughing matter for me, though, since I did not really expect to find something that fit my own definition of happiness.


It was the choice I picked in the test, not because I wanted to wallow in self-pity nor because I wanted the exam checkers to have pity on me. I picked it because it was the sole thought that had entered my mind when I read the question for that particular number. I, however, did not shade the circle for that particular choice immediately. I actually spent a generous amount of that time for that item, contemplating whether I should let my thoughts out freely and let the exam checker know what kind of thoughts linger on my mind. I got paranoid, worried that it might affect my chances of qualifying for that said university. In the end, though, I ended up shading it despite the fears that constantly tried to warn me.

After the exam, I had a talk with a few of my friends who took the same exam I did. They mentioned about the item about happiness and kind of made fun of it, laughing at the choice which had “temporary”. I, of course, could not let them know that it had affected me in ways I didn’t know it could so I brushed it off and laughed along with them despite the empty feeling the realization gave me. I told them that it was what I picked and they were a bit surprised, probably because they didn’t think someone would actually pick such a choice among the more acceptable ones. Not wanting to ruin the playful mood, I added a chuckle after I mentioned it to my friends, making it seem like I found it rather amusing as they did. After it, the thought flew away along with the wind, as if we never talked about it. It just proves how minimal it was to them.

The thought never left my mind(it’s why I’m writing this right now) and kept bugging me every late night where everyone would be asleep and I had all the time in the world to contemplate about things and think a bit deeper. I realized how hollow I felt last night after several feelings of emotional outbursts(though I did not cry, I just felt really down). A simple sentence from my brother or my mother would be enough to get tears brimming on my eyes. It was weird but I have just realized that it was the result of having all the feelings bottled up securely in the confines of my heart. Nevertheless, I had come upon a conclusion that happiness should not be sought for(well, at least for me). Why? Because it’s temporary, everything is just a cruel cycle so even though I could get my feelings on the top, they would soon drop into the lowest point once again so why bother? Others would gladly take the risk as long as they’d experience it but the thought isn’t just so pleasing for me. I have treaded the paths in my life as if everything were normal during the day, only to get the empty, hollow feeling at night. It’s been like this for a while now and I guess it’s tolerable so far. I’d probably even get through my whole life like this. No one knows, I might change but for the meantime, I’m stuck, still searching for whatever it is that could heal.


Bliss? I think not.

Here I come, slowly taking big strides towards a more serious lifestyle. With every step and every intake of the breath, I could feel myself sinking into the depths of mild depression because of the inexplicable anxiety the concept of life causes me. Coming to think of it, I have spent almost all my life in the shadows of the roofs of concrete walls whose ulterior motives are to implant varying ideas and false concepts about how life should be seen as. Almost everyone has grown up to believe that they have to strive hard in order to attain a job of which they could settle with until the time when they would not be able to lift a finger anymore because of pure fatigue and of course, the nearing of the day when the ground will  take you back because, apparently, it is where you truly belong.

It bothers me how we spend our limited and precious time on this hell hole–I mean earth– with the sheer motivation of, “I have to do this in order to get a stable job!”. In fact, every time I think further about it, tingles are sent to my spine—and they aren’t the good kind, believe me. The main concept of how life works is simply burdensome for me. Like, you are sent to school in order for you to get a stable job where you can supposedly achieve your dreams but with the consequence of having to go through a lot of stress and fatigue, doing the same things over and over again until you reach the age in which you lose the ability and energy to continue doing strenuous activities. By the time you reach this, you have all the time in the world for yourself. However, you would not be able to do all there is in your bucket list because your body will tend to decline, unlike how your past teenage body would’ve been able to do the task without a sweat. So yes, that’s how I would summarize life if someone were to ask me to. It’s kind of depressing, honestly but I suppose it’s better than the concept of eternal life.

A few others would claim that life is nothing more than making memories and having to go through ups and downs, and that is enough for them to feel as though life is such a bliss. Others, on the other hand, like to hold on to the belief that after such a stress-oriented lifestyle in the mortal world we live in, we would get to experience true happiness and gain inner peace as soon as our souls are sent to the other world wherein we would get to experience how forever is like. In all honesty, both forms of bliss caused by the two common mindsets are boggling for me. Forever is not such a sweet term for my taste buds. In fact, it is more of a needle which continuously pokes through the poor tasting senses, causing more pain than I can endure. Forever is such a long, long time and the thought alone scares me. (I’m actually experiencing shaky fingers right now as I type about this ‘forever’). Nevertheless, the thought of life having no such significance also frightens the soul out of me.


I honestly think that I may just be thinking too hard and too deeply but what can I do, I can’t help it. Not at all. It just bothers me so much that I had to get out of my /cough/ daily routine /cough/ just to rant this all out and to feel a little bit better than I have before. It was a small anxiety attack so I needed an outlet of some sort, sorry if this is as organized as my room, ehe.


Recently, I have had conversations regarding religion and the like. Yesterday, I had come to talk with a fellow agnostic, two, in fact. The other day, I came across someone who identifies to have no religion but still keeps her faith with God. Also, I have a friend I am rather close with who is a devoted follower and is determined to make unbelievers and those doubting to come back to the arms of the Lord. I actually have diversity of friends with different religions. Truth be told, my mom hates it that I mingle with those who are not Catholic, much more be close with them. What she does not know is that it has been long since I have left my Catholic faith in attempt to find a better classification for what I believe. From my first to third year of high school, I have identified as a Christian, an atheist, and an agnostic respectively. At the moment, I am in my senior year and I have yet to classify myself once again. It might seem foolish but I am a person who is easily confused. Furthermore, my mood swings make it much more worse. I have been trying to regain the faith I have lost ever since I was in my junior year but I seem to fail every time. Alas, I have come to the decision to just go with the flow and see where it takes me. I continue life doing good as much as I can(and yes, bad deeds are inevitable). However, despite my lack of faith, I still go on by the teachings buried into my head when I was a child although I get doubts whether we really do believe in the right thing or not. But oh well, we won’t be able to do much in the end anyway.

Religion separates each and every one of us, unfortunately. It was the reason why I ended up trying to break free from the constraints religion tied down upon me ever since I had been born to this world so mad. I had always wanted to know what it would be like without religion, when faith alone would occupy the spaces in our hearts. Faith is something strong and I believe that with it, we can break through boundaries and discover something that had been hidden by the dark cloaks of religion that hindered us from witnessing something possible more peaceful and loving. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing with Christians and such, I am against religion itself. Your beliefs won’t be a hindrance to our possible relationship, be it romantic or friendly. I never judge based on your beliefs and I know that there are a lot of people like such.

So until then, I shall continue searching for where I truly belong and what I truly believe.



Yesterday, I had a talk with my friend about death and what comes after it. I asked him about his opinion and he told me that he did not believe anything and simply said,

“Whatever happens, happens. We won’t have a say on whatever it will be at the end, anyways.”

I stood still, smiling and nodding for I agreed. Before he told me that line, I believed in reincarnation although I am not fond with eternity. It gives me an uncomfortable feeling in my gut that I can’t explain. After he had said what he did, it gave me a sense of comfort in a way because I felt like I do not need to ponder over the trivial matter that much and as usual, just go with the flow and see where it takes me.


I see a lot who mourn in agony and depression because of this certain feeling oh-so-intoxicating. I hated this said sensation before but ironically, I had fallen into the depths of its evil, even as I had been an anti-love enthusiast back in the past years of my high school days. It had been confusing and yet beneficial at the same time, making it all the more reason to be considered as something along the lines of a headache and a heart burn. To say that I have never come upon to grow fond of this feeling would be a lie, in all honesty. I don’t even know why I ended up getting struck by the arrow inflicted upon my unaware heart at the wrong time. It, perhaps, might be my fault. Mea culpa. How? Well, I fall far too fast. Possibly as fast as the speed of sound(it’s still slower than light, you see). However, when this happens, I don’t usually get too stuck in too deep. it usually only lasts for a few weeks or so but at the moment, I have violated my own rules that I have made as restrictions for myself and worst of all, it’s getting stronger as time passes by.

Going back to the topic at hand, love is certainly something beautiful, something everyone must experience but get this. But, when someone’s says he or she is in love, it’s just mere infatuation. Love doesn’t feel like that, it’s not about butterflies and rainbows, flowers blooming at the end of the road. No. Love is something more simple, something harder to attain. A level of pure loyalty and devotion; like how a religious Christian values God in his or her life or how an agnostic feels settled in his or her chosen beliefs. Love is when you are past the infatuation stage and those tingly feelings are gone. However, the passion for the other is still there despite the teenagerly feelings being gone. I have kept these in mind for as long as I can remember and I have been going through life with this at heart and mind. So how can we just state the three words to someone who is not even at that level in our heart? How can we just throw those words that used to mean something really big? How can the word ‘like’, now mean more than love, was it not supposed to be the other way around? It’s saddening, to be honest, how love is simply being stuck into our mindset as if it is something we can say to each and everyone. I myself do the same thing but I do little revisions. I use the full word when I truly mean it and use a combination of letters that sound like love when it is not coming from my heart. In my whole life, I have used the word whilst talking to someone just once, just to one person. This, however, does not get me away from the fact that I say it to almost everyone as well. Let’s just take a moment and think before letting the word escape from our mouths. Is it our heart that is truly speaking or is it just the playful mouth?


So this is my first serious blog post. Like I said in my previous post, I did forget about this blog. It’s just that my memory is something close to rubbish. Haha. I’m like an old woman when it comes to memory, sometimes I’m even worse. Don’t get me wrong, though, I’m not old. I am young, youthful. Well then… I’ll start



“Disgusting” “That’s not normal” “God didn’t even make man and man nor woman and woman, right? He made man & woman”

These words, phrases and sentences are a sample of what I hear every single day of my life. I was raised by two very religious Catholics, thus, they have tried to keep me away from things concerning homosexuality and the likes of it. I have no idea on why my mom seems to hate such topics, my dad, however, is much more open to this topic compared to my mom. This open-minded state of his, however, isn’t really that open-minded as you think. He’ll just sit there, shutting his mouth from saying anything, listening to whatever the latter has to say. In contrast to that, my mom would blabber about how it isn’t natural and how it is weird.

I, a closeted not-so-straight individual, have once succumbed to the things, the advices, my parents would give to me. I have once give in and started hating on the LGBTQ community. Being a growing child, I believed that it was all wrong, all the work of wrongness. I didn’t even accept any form of skinship, not hugs, not kisses, not holding of hands, not even being physically close. None of the casual skinships friends usually do was tolerable for me. I was a child filled with hate for the certain thing.

Then, there came a time when I felt suffocated with all the love I was receiving that I started yearning for contact with others excluding my mom and dad.I started to loosen up and I began to accept small skinships, i.e, sitting with a friend with a small distance between us. I, however, still wasn’t open to the topic of homosexuality. What was worse, one of my close friends was actually in the same boat as I was, we both disliked such things.

During summer vacation before 7th grade, the big turn of events suddenly happened. I was too absorbed with watching anime that, being the curious child I was, I started searching all the different kinds of genres including Yuri(if you don’t know what this is, I advise you to google it). When I found the genre, I was still bitter when it came to the topic but being a reader, I actually decided to read the ones with good story lines. It wasn’t until I finished more than 10 Yuri manga, which I finished in less than an hour, that I started to yearn for more. That was the time when I was slowly getting fascinated by the love the characters shared, without me realizing it. After reading almost all of the Yuri/Shoujo-Ai manga at Mangahere, I started to become more open and accepting. I grew to be more mature and had gained more knowledge. I realized how rude and hateful I was during my I-hate-homosexuality phase. It was, indeed, just a phase.

I began to accept the LGBTQ community and I have learned to love them secretively, hoping my mom and dad wouldn’t discover the things I have been doing. I was contented and it was the time when I felt the world was full of love until…

…I came across a website which contained hateful remarks. I read everything and as I read, my eyes were tearing up. I wasn’t part of the LGBTQ community but I felt bad and slightly agitated because of the comment. I mean, why must you hate so much? Weren’t you taught to love your neighbors?

Months passed and I’ve reached 8th grade. This time, I knew there was something inside me that was waiting to be unleashed, waiting to be accepted by no other one but me. I welcomed this ‘thing’ inside me with warm greetings and, with the help of my friends, I was able to let it out. It was our third or fourth month of school, we were still getting to know each other better but we already felt comfortable, like the four of us were connected on purpose. For some reason I forgot, we started to coin a term to refer to those people whom you like but not that big, something less than a crush. We started telling each other who we liked(not in a serious way). When one of my lady friends said she was growing to like this certain girl, a part of me was clapping like a dork. I felt glad, relieved, that at least one of my friends swings that way. Soon, when all my friends were done, I realized that everyone had someone that they had interest on from the same gender. It was finally my turn and I gathered up all my courage to tell them that I was starting to get interested in this one classmate of ours, a girl. All of them gasped and they were all so surprised. I confronted them and they told me they weren’t expecting me to like a classmate, although they had their suspicions that I had eyes for girls.I asked them why they thought like that and the answer I received was,

“You just seem like it, like, you scream bi.”

After this event, I started becoming more open about me liking a couple of people from the same gender. I finally felt freedom of expression. I was contented for the first time. However, this wasn’t the problem I had, to be honest. The problem with me is that I despise love.


Signed: WrittenWithBlue ~

Introducing WrittenWithBlue

Edited: June 15, 2013


First of all, I would prefer being called by my pseudonym and remembered as, “WrittenWithBlue“. This may seem familiar to some but then again, the internet is a very large community.

This blog was created so that I, WrittenWithBlue, would be able to set my thoughts free via my laptop’s keyboard. This is the first time I’d be blogging and I’m a noob when it comes to this. My writing on the other hand is at, for me, at a satisfactory level since I am a writer of fanfics although I haven’t finished one… yet.

No, I am not a photographer who feels to share graphics nor am I a professional of some sort. I am a  high schooler in search of a means to express. I am no expert in any field regarding college academics but I have experience since I have already lived for more than a decade. For better or for worse, I wish this would be the trigger to unleash the inner blogger inside this teenage body.


Signed: WrittenWithBlue ~