The White Rabbit Would Hate Me For This

Recently, I've been hit with this heavy feeling I couldn't quite understand. Whenever I look up on the wall clock in our living room, I receive a pang of ache in my chest. No, I am not in a relationship, I am not seeing anyone, I am not talking about the consequences of falling in love. There's just something about the incessant ticking of the timepiece that brings countless waves of dread to wash over me.

The thing is, I am on the extremes when it comes to the concept of time. I'm too early, too late, or nowhere to be found. Never shall I understand how these numbers are ruling over our lives like some sort of olden-times monarchist government. Off with your head, the midnight chime would say, the words reverberating eerily through my bones. You have failed to do any good for the past twenty-four hours. Or for the whole extent of your existence.

Before my mind thought it was good to lose some sanity over time-telling devices, I barely gave a second thought about how I should go on and end my journey. All that I had was "there's still tomorrow to save myself". Sometimes the days seemed to get progressively worse, but with a scroll through my phone's calendar app, I knew I have more than enough time. I can still make it without claiming something that's not mine to claim. I can still get to see better days to happen to me. But I turn to the next page and surprise surprise, everything is blown up, out of size. When I try to go and inspect, the world decides it is best to play a joke on me and starts spinning faster, people are moving faster, life is happening faster. Right in front of me. I can't get to fall into step with anybody or anything. I'm stuck on quicksand I walked by in Dreamland.

And I'm left questioning the idea of Time. What is Time? Why does Time enjoy imprisoning me (and/or you)? Why must we always be chasing down Time?

Why am I wasting so much time on... Time?

The act of having to be updated 24/7 is a must, a need, a requirement. Updates easily fly their way in and out and all around in these faster-paced days. The way I see it, it's almost like a crime to not be updated on the cute antics of your best friend's pet dog or your aunt's trip to Guam. Yet, I relish in isolation. I crave for peace and quiet. To make all those happen, I forget all important dates to remember and jump off the cliff that life had ordered me to climb. I greet the surface of the ocean with a blue kiss, and sink down to the floor, muting away all of the noise, just leaving reality.

But not for long. Time is quick to pull me out of the ocean. It's as if Time is desperate to save me from solitude, listing off danger after danger had It truly lost me to the quiet. And here is foolish me, promising never again shall I do something so ridiculous. Time comforts me with a hard blow on the stomach --- what I missed, what I should've done, and what I must accomplish. I can sense my face  turning green in discomfort, so I turn my head away, and grudgingly allow Time to take the reins on my life.

See? I could never grasp Time. It has me captive, instead. It forces me to go sleepless for days, just to complete my daily quota of catching up to everything and everyone. Time warns me that falling off course is not an option.

I'm tired, and I'm done. I have to throw away Time from the throne It dulled and dirtied. And to do so, I have to be faster. I have to be more cunning, more unexpected.

I have to claim my shrinking force of life. Something that is not mine to claim.

Give Me A Sign, I Want To Believe

We all know that lying is very bad. That lying causes more trouble. That lying will "directly send you to hell". My parents condemn the very act. They never forget on reminding me that lying will bring no good to life, and I must never try to lie or hide anything from them. And I, being programmed to do so, nod and say yes.

I guess there is something wrong with my code because, despite all the warnings and reminders and the numerous do's and don'ts implanted in my ROM, I cannot execute what is expected of me.

'Don't lie'. Ha. I can't even remember when I uttered my first lie. I am terribly sorry for disobeying this one on an almost 24/7 basis. You call and ask for my whereabouts and almost automatically I answer with an "I'm only here at the dorm" when the truth is I am sipping a relaxing 16 oz. of ice-cold coffee at a 7-11 with one or two friends. You express your strong dislike for student organizations in university and I comfort you, saying that I won't join any of them don't worry, but honestly, I have just taken my org shirt out from the laundry. You fret over my physical health and remind me to get enough sleep and I say yes of course, whilst yawning into the back of my hand because it is my third day of having no sleep at all. I lie a lot, that's the truth.

'Don't hide anything from us'. Unlikely to be able to run said command. If I were to be open to my parents about everything that's going on in my life, about the decisions I have made and will be making, I am 500% positive that they will disagree with everything, and then POOF! The tables have turned, my life will be completely manned by my parents. I will have no say, because apparently my plans are unrealistic or impractical or selfish or shallow or just plain stupid.

Lying and hiding are two of my favorite habits. I don't have to explain anything nor worry whether or not the points I made got through people's heads. It's easier to put on a mask and say the letters 'o' and 'k'. People judge you less. They have no right to look down on you because you're functioning with whatever an "I'm okay; everything's fine" can ensure.

Because when you admit that you are far from being okay, there's a higher chance of getting scolded by your parents than receiving comfort. There will be more judging and criticizing than there will be supporting. More triggers than there are band-aids.

I lie about this flourishing garden of sadness inside me. I lie about enjoying my classes in college. I lie about taking my vitamins every day. I hide the fact that anxiety is holding me captive. I hide this strong desire of wanting to jump off a bridge.

Because I also want to believe that this is just a phase. A short-term effect of stress. I want to believe that there is more happiness in my life, that studying is more fun and interesting, that my overall health is at it's optimal state. I want to believe my very own lie that I am 'okay'.

I Have A Ring, And It's Not 24K Gold

There came a point in my life where waking up was insignificant. Pointless. Unimportant.
"Do I have to wake up?" I would ask myself. The rational answer was yes. So I did. I pushed my blanket away, and pulled myself up. I woke up, got dressed. I faced life.

Now, that seemingly once-in-a-lifetime point has multiplied. It's safe to say that it has become a circle. A cycle of my life that I can't escape.

Everyday, I struggle with waking up, with getting up and having to face the events of the day. Just thinking of responsibilities pain me. Deciding what to wear tires me out already. What more of walking from class to class, racking up my brains for an answer to question number three, keeping my cool when the professor calls on me?

When my classes for the day are all over, I crash on my bed. I stare up the bunk on top of mine, and watch a recap of my day. Complete crap. What did I expect. I am anxious about how this will greatly affect me in the future. What's worse though, is am more tired than I am anxious.

All these obligations suffocating me, I want them flying out the window. I don't want to think about deadlines, exams, and passing rates. I don't want to spend all-nighters memorizing definitions and terms and formulas. I want all of this to be over. I want to put a stop on my recurring failures. I want to walk away from this life and never come back again.

Sometimes I ask myself, What would have happened if I made that choice instead of this? Would I still be messed up? Would I still be unmotivated? Would I be passing with flying colors instead of failing? Would there have been a happier me?

Happiness seems so far away. It sits high at the summit; I am barely at the foot of the mountain. Even when I succumb to my desires of sleeping and sleeping and sleeping, in hopes of feeling better later, I wake up feeling void. Empty. Burned out. I am even disgusted at how the negativity is getting to me. Sure, I never was a huge talker, but I used to be optimistic. I used to dream big and achieved things. Now I'm just this empty shell sitting through lectures and never understanding a thing that was discussed. I couldn't even remember the last time I felt and lived in genuine happiness.

I can't really explain why I'm feeling so low for months. Why I'm hating myself more and more with each passing day. Why I can't accomplish school requirements without experiencing waves of anxiety. I don't know why I have become like this. Am I allowed to feel like this? Do I have valid reasons to be like this?

It's not laziness, that I am sure of. My laziness is opening up all my books and readying all pens and notebooks and starting to summarize Chapter 1 then leaving it to go on to social media. This circle I'm trapped in is darker and more ominous. It reminds me of the things I have to do, people I have to meet, but it never allows me. It closes in on me, reminding me over and over again with my obligations but never letting me go to work on them. When I finally find an exit, it's too late. My to-do list grows longer and never gets checked off, deadlines get nearer, anxiety builds up inside me, and my brain goes blank for days and days and days. And the circle comes back again.

I just want this emptiness to be gone. This anxiety to calm down and go away. I want my will to live to come back. I just want this ring of depression around me to get cut off and thrown away to the deepest, darkest part of the abyss.

Band Goals

Music saves everyone. Do we all agree on that or nah?

Whatever your stand on that may be, it is undeniable that music adds color, or drama, to our lives.

Truth be told, I listen to music more than I listen to lessons in my classes.

Lately, my friend and I have been obsessed with the idea of starting a band. A day won't pass without us talking about it, our supposed band name, members to recruit, instruments to buy, and so on and so forth.

We planned the band as if our lives depended on it. We would sometimes even forget we have school-related things to do. So we end up staying up late til 3 AM, just to finish assignments and papers, or review for exams, then waking up groggy at 7 AM

And it is because of studies being our no. 1 priority that our dream band is galaxies away from our grasp. We can't do much but listen to bands like Fall Out Boy and Sleeping with Sirens while cramming papers due the next day.

But one night, I just knocked on their door.

Blessie: "Why do you have a guitar with you?"
Me: "I have nothing to do. Let's jam."
Blessie: "Let's let's. Let's be happy for tonight."

And thus, our first cover was born!

After finishing the cover, we realized we took a step closer to our dream of starting a band. We were both overwhelmed by our accomplishment, that we shared it to our social media sites.

And here I present to you all our first ever cover. I Don't Love You, by My Chemical Romance. Blessie Ayalde on lead and vocals, and yours truly, on rhythm guitar. Listen and enjoy!

The Last Leaf

"Daddy, Daddy, look!" my sister squealed, pointing out the car window. Different shades of brown and yellow were fluttering around us, as our car passed by a row of trees.

"It's already the fall season. Your favorite, isn't it, Ellie?" My dad asked, without taking his eyes off the wheel.

"Next to ice cream," my sister replied matter-of-factly. This made my dad and I chuckle.

"Let's make leaf angels together when we get home," I told her.  She tore her gaze away from the window and turned to my direction. Her eyes sparkled, and I could almost see her ears clapping at the thought of leaf angels. It's a yes, I thought.

We were on our way home from school — Dad picks Ellie up first, then me. It was a daily routine. Even my classes are routinely; I was bored to death. Nothing outstanding happened today, just like all the other days.

I stared out the window at my side, taking in the view of the trees bared of their leaves. The season's changed, but my life haven't yet, I thought. Just how long should I lead a life filled to the brim with routines? I wanted to step out and start anew, but how?

"Stephen, you will be continuing your violin lessons, right? Your teacher has returned from Canada," my dad told me, which brought me back to reality. He was looking at me through the mirror, waiting for my response. I nodded yes without giving it much thought. Well, at least music was there to make my life a wee bit less normal.

Twenty more minutes and we were already pulling in front of our house. Our front porch turned into a sea of gold and rubies. Perfect for making leaf angels. I didn't notice my sister was already out the car, until she opened the door at my side and tugged at my arm.

"Hurry up, big brother! Let's go make leaf angels already!" She said, and I let myself be pulled by her tiny hands.

I saw Mom step outside the front door, donning a blue apron and holding a ladle in one hand. "Oh, you're already home. Sorry for the leaves, I was too busy cooking and cleaning inside," she told us, waving the ladle.

"It's okay Mommy, we'll be playing with them anyways," Ellie exclaimed. She was gathering a huge pile of leaves, and when she was satisfied with it, she took a few steps back, and finally plunged into the heap. Mom and Dad laughed, and not long after they went inside the house.

"You really made a splash there, Ellie," I smiled at my sister, who had leaves all over her hair. She was already making a new pile of leaves to jump into, but this time a bigger one.

"That was what I wanted," she beamed at me. When she was done with the pile, she stood beside me. "Now, big brother Stephen, it's your time to splash!" 

With all her strength, she pushed me sideways into the pile of leaves. I was caught by surprise that her small push made huge crunching noises. I sat up, and saw my sister at my side, giggling while making a leaf angel. I laid back on the leafy heap, and started to make my own leaf angel too.

"Leaf angels are the best. Jumping into piles of leaves are the best. Fall is the best!" I heard my sister exclaim.

"All next to ice cream, right?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. Um, ice cream is the best of the best!" She said, pumping her fists into the air. I laughed and turned my gaze upwards. The young evening sky and tree banches hovered over me.

All the branches looked the same to me—woody and leafless. But one branch caught my attention. It was different amongst the others, albeit inconspicuously. A yellow leaf was solely attached to the branch. The leaf looked like it was holding on for dear life.

"Should we be really happy that leaves are falling?" I suddenly blurted out. "I'm okay with it, because I can make leaf angels. They can fall anytime, and then I can make leaf angels anytime!" My sister answered innocently. I sat up and saw her in a different spot. She had already made three leaf angels. 

But I thought differently. That one last leaf made me think of the ideals of never giving up, but more of never surrendering to conformity. Somehow, I felt a small part of me was enlightened. I looked back at that particular leaf, and saw it sway, and slowly the wind took it away, finally mixing in with the hundred other leaves on the ground.

"To start anew, to lessen the boring routines that make up life, I need a lot of courage and strength to stand out from the crowd," I said to myself, smiling. I finally found a brand new way to live my life.

I was about to stand up when all of a sudden, leaves poured down on me. I looked up and saw my sister's face hovering over me, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. I stood up, stretched, and cracked my knuckles.

"Oh no, Ellie. You know what happens when you do mischief to big brother," I told her, smiling playfully. She gasped, took a step back, and dashed away.

"I don't and won't know unless you catch me!" She giggled. I laughed, and chased after her.

Just two siblings chasing each other, in a sea of gold and rubies. A sea that contained the last leaf.

Living in a Pressure Cooker

I am seventeen years old.

I haven't done much yet for all the years I have existed here in this Earth.

But what is so scary, is the feeling of pressure.

Pressure around my neck. I feel like all the oxygen in my body is being squeezed out.
Pressure around my wrists. It stings, I feel like they have been slashed for hundreds of times.
Pressure around my waist. The urge to vomit is too great; I fear that I might throw up my intestines.
Pressure around my feet. They have gone numb. My feet were probably cut away from me.

The air around me is so dense. I can smell methane with every sharp breath I take.

The road I'm walking on is splatted with a crimson red and sometimes adorned by a murky blackness.

The buildings are corroding, faster than a mouse can escape a cat's claws. Heaps of debris lie everywhere.

My eyes are slowly being void of any glimmer of hope. They have become pools of apathy.

Why, why is this happening?!

What have I done to face a life so bleak?

Our family was tightly-knitted, I was acing my academics, I was enjoying school. I was loving music, I was laughing with my friends.

Then came "society".

I had to go over hurdles, just to get to what is called "happiness".

If I leave for a day off, I would have missed a year's worth of happenings.

Even if I do not want to, I am force-fed to want it, to like it.

I am always told to make my own choices, but the choices laid out on me just lead to the same, dull ending.

Everything around me is controlled.

Everything around me pressures me.

Yet all these pressures brought zero happiness to me.

Working day and night, trying to take over time, but still... Pressure did not make me do a lot of things worth living for.

Deep scars and memories of pain were the things, the horrible things that pressure left in my life.

To enjoy the little things of life is my aim.

Not to live in a pressure cooker.

Who Would have Thought + Intro Yey!

Over the new Year's, I came across my best friend's blog.

Then, enlightenment washed over me, like BOOM.

I would love to have my very own blog too!

A place where I can rant my thoughts away.

Where I can publish my writings.

Where I can share various things of my interest!

But I never thought much about it.

"If I create a blog, it's either I'll be too focused on it, or forget all about it after a few months," I said to myself.

So I tucked the idea of blogs at the very back of my mind.

But who would have thought that I get to make one?

Though partly because it is a requirement in one of our subjects, but still.

I finally get to own a blog!

And before I forget, let me introduce myself to you.


I am Nyrveli A. Alidon. Call me Near if my given name's too hard for you to pronounce.

Currently, I am a freshman gathering knowledge and polishing skills at the University of the Philippines, Los Banos. 

I am taking up BS Computer Science. A degree program that paved way for my dream of owning a blog.

I have been converting oxygen into carbon dioxide for 17 years.

I have a lot of interests and hobbies in life.

I love manga. I love mangoes too.

I love music. I have no specific genre, I just listen to whatever tugs at my heart.

And because of my love for music, I also study it. I know how to play a little bit of this and that on the piano, or on the guitar.

I am also dying to have my very own violin, and learn how to play it.

I also love spending hours on the Internet. What can I say, it's a haven of trivia, information, and laughs!

I love watching Youtube videos by Ryan Higa, Lilly Singh, Motoki Maxted, and many more.

And I love writing just about anything.

Now that is a lot of "I love"'s.

What to do. I just love a lot of things.