words: jeselle tarin

edits: mine

pcr. owners

Alaala x Pusong Ligaw

i failed in doing aesthetics, i'm sorry, i'm a failure

Confessions of a Fangirl

Confessions of a Fangirl is an article made by Kyla in 2015, published on their English school newspaper, The Genzette, wherein she's the Associate Editor of the said school publication in that year. The article is modified due to typographical errors and to keep up the accuracy of the contents inside for the year 2016.

     Being a fangirl is not easy. You may think it's easy as a, b, c's, but no. Fangirling is a tough job, especially if you're a K-Pop fan. Again, it's a job. I also repeat, it's K-Pop. K-Pop is extremely far from western music you guys usually like. From the language itself, the region it came from and its style of creating music.

     Now that you know it's obviously different from each other, let me show you our "fangirl burdens" through this piece of writing.

     First of all, we face a lot of discrimination struggles whenever we were asked about our favorite genre of music. Yes, we like K-Pop. No, we are not Koreans. That's it, end of story. Why do people have to discourage us about loving K-pop? Is it a big deal if we don't like your fave artist because we love our oppa(s) and eonni(es)? Why do people push us to like artists whom we don't like? We aren't bandwagons and we don't follow it. We stand for what we like and what we don't like. Just because you like this *insert genre of music/artist/band* doesn't mean you have to push people to like them. We have different tastes. Respect everyone's choices if you don't want your idols to be exiled and bashed because you, narrow-minded people. We are extremely powerful than what you think. We can stop you from using your social media accounts by just letting a single hashtag trend for days (if it is actually a serious case). K-pop has various sub-fandoms. Once you attack a certain fan of the group or the group itself, all of the fandoms will join in to defend this certain fan or member. Think before you act.

     Second, we are not racists. How could we be one of your so called "racists", if every single race has a k-pop fan in it? Don't underestimate our ability to influence non-kpop fans because we can turn them to be one of us in a heartbeat. We possess that communication skill. @koralike_ | kairms.blogspot.com

     Third, don't underestimate the capability of a fan to hold emotions; also their brain's memory storage of events, Hangul (Korean writing), and speaking skills. Even if we aren't Koreans, we know how to read and write it. Somehow, we are able to speak Korean words or phrases just like saranghaeyo, jinjja, and eottokhae. We can also stay up to 5:00 AM just to watch a group's comeback music videos such as EXO's "Love Me Right", BTS' "Run", and Seventeen's "Mansae". Take note, we don't watch it once, but we kill the F5 button to break certain views.

     Being a fangirl is a job, with no income. Instead, we are the ones who spend money, handle raging emotions, and keep up a fansite active all at once. Fangirling is a way of life. A life out of the 'feels'of a world too mainstream to understand. Are you one of us?

Kärlek ♥

     Growing up I always thought true love was red roses, dates on Saturday nights, little block box that held expensive things and always knowing what to say. I thought true love was a kiss under the rain, deep explanations, and the perfect story. But now, that I'm older, I've realized it's not like that at all.
 @koralike_ | kairms.blogspot.com
     See because true love for me is ugly snapchats and peeing while you're on the phone. True love is kissing at 6 AM despite the morning breath and singing at the top of your lungs. It's saying all the wrong things at all the wrong moments. It's sarcasm and being honest even when it HURTS. It's late hours of the night when it's been a long day and it's no make up and bad hair. It's tears from laughter, it's tears from sadness and it's nothing like any storybook you've ever read. It's never running out of things to talk about, and it's being comfortable in the silence of things. True love is watching The Titanic though you swore you never would. It's getting mad over stupid things. It's "you're an idiot," and "come here you 'lil shit!" and knowing you're so lucky to hear those everyday. It's spilling your fillings at 4 AM when you should be asleep. It's that song you hear on the radio that always makes you smile. It's the worst story you could imagine, but thank God it worked out anyways. True love is never losing the magic. True love is not leaving when things get hard.

     I like my definition better anyways.

Snapshots of the Past

     Everytime I hear his name, his wide smile fills up my mind. His sparkling eyes that stares at me gives me chills. I like his boisterous laugh where you can see his hundred teeth that you even need to wear sunglasses so your eyes wouldn't be hurt. His weird voice that makes my heart skip a beat everytime he sings (especially when he knows that he's out of tune), his jokes that makes me laugh even though it's not funny. He goes there beside me, just staring on what am I doing. He even threw me pick-up lines that makes me blush. He's so good to me whenever I feel nobody does. He's the only who cares for me when no one did. I like everything he does, I like what's in him. I LIKE HIM.


     He cheered me up when I was down. He treated me like a princess. He let me feel special even in a short time. Questions are conquering my mind again...


Is he the one for me?
Will I experience what my friends does?
Can I relate myself to them more?
@koralike_ | kairms.blogspot.com

     I left them unanswered. I want HIM to answer it for me.


"Yes, I am the one for you. The one you've been waiting for so many years. Yes darling, we'll experience what they are doing but we'll do it more better than them. You'll relate yourself to them more for we'll be making our very own love story that will be written in the history."


     Of course, I am daydreaming! Probably, it may happen on some books, but never in the reality. I'm used to it, to be hurt. Three rejections. Three big rejections that almost ruined my life. When I attempted at my first, I stopped myself for I am too young. The second one, he doesn't like me, but my best friend, he does. The third one... he ignores me and he really torn my heart. In this fourth attempt, I wish he'll never break it for it took me years to heal it...


     Oh! He's my source of joy. I don't know why, but I'm extremely happy when I'm with him. He's the one who usually wipes my tears; he gives me his words of wisdom. He always wanted to reach out for me that makes me feel that I'm special to him. He said that he's happy with me. Is it? Am I special to him? I hope so...


     But the only permanent in this world is change.


     After one month of sweetness, everything is just a memory now. His sweetness turned into bitterness. I can still hear his sweet lines, but that's not for me anymore, but into somebody else. He's the one who wipes my tears but now, he's the reason behind it. I see him happy, but I really hope that I'm still the one, the one behind his smiles, but definitely not. He found someone better than me! He sees that I don't care, but deep inside myself, I'm holding back my tears. I'm breaking inside. I thought he's the one. He helped me to move on for my third attempt. He told me that he's happy with me. I thought there's a SPARK between us, but I think, I'm the only one who feels it. We used to do what we usually do everytime we're together, but now, he's doing it with someone else.


     Hey, I'm sorry! I was serious on what we we're doing, but it was just a fling for you. Yes, a fling. All this time. I thought there was something, but there's none. I thought you're the heaven's sent for my agonizing heart, but no. You weren't. Everything was scripted; you manipulated me, gave me false hopes... how dare you to play with my heart... Well I'm moving on for I am tired of this. Fourth attempt, failed. No, I won't stop loving for the sake of loving me back. I will come back stronger... and thank you for the memories, it's just a snapshot of the past now.

Let You Go

                   

          At first, I did what I think that's right.... to let you go. To avoid you. To forget you because it's like you're telling me that it's for the better even though you didn't approach me or anything. Maybe because that's the only way to move on. I did it. I did what you wanted me to do. But at least once, have you ever asked yourself if I liked what  I did? 

          Sometimes, I don't know why does my heart keeps on fooling around even though it knows it hurts. Don't you know that while I'm following what my mind says, my heart shouts "Can't you just hold on a little bit longer?"

          Sweet. But deep inside, while I'm following my head like a robot that everything it commands, I kept following, my tears are dropping a little bit and my heart do break into tiny pieces. Bits. I keep on asking myself, "I didn't give up but you already did. Why is it like that?!"

          But they say that "There's no perfect love. Everything should face struggles. If you get tired or refuse, just let it rest and it'll come back again." I look forward that it may happen. But it didn't. Even though I doubled my effort. tripled it too I guess... but I waited for nothing. I was so sincere when I expressed my feelings for that letter but you ended it up being a joke. It's so damn hard to bring back those days when we're still talking to each other and we do some stuffs together. I'm so sorry. It was my fault too. I shouldn't expect too much. I should've hold on. I shouldn't let you go. I shouldn't forget you and kept still. I should've fight for you for that you may fight for me as well... I-I kinda like you that time... I shouldn't let you go.

                               

Loss: To Feel or Not To Feel

               

     My memories come as isolated snapshots now, a kaleidoscope of colorful fragments that somehow add up to a MAN I once called MINE. I accept the loss in stages, quietly closing one door and moving on to the next. Healing is a process, gradual and slow.
www.iamsuperkyla.blogspot.com / SuperKyla :3
     How do I keep this from being a life long lesson? How do I keep it an isolated incident something so over aching, so devastating, so pervasive in my life still? How do I keep from being crippled by it? The answer, I believe... If there is such a thing as a concise answer to such questions is to slowly learn to live with the loss and not under it, to let it become a companion rather that a guide. I won't say this is easy; I know how hard it can be. But I also know it can be done, and I know the comfort that comes from hearing how other coped with similar challenges and fears. It'a like a loud sound in an empty house, it echoes on and on. The sounds of silence left to echo without response, become more haunting than the actual words. 

     This time, though the pain refused to stay underground. As the initial shock of separation wore off, I began to cry with a ferocity that, quiet literally, one night brought me to my knees. It didn't matter that I was the one who walked away; I still felt abandoned and completely alone. 

     It hurts me more than I can express to hear he's still hurt. He asked me, "How are you?". After a pause, I said I'm doing fine. I asks how he's been, and he says "Fine". Another pause, and then we say goodbye. 

     I remember what he gave, what he made, what he did. What we were to each other, what he taught me, what I learned at him. That he made things, that he made words, that he fed me with so much love. Where he had dreamed of going, what our first words were and how he had quarreled with me. 

     I am fooling myself when I say he exists now only in the photograph or in the outline of my hand or in the armful of memories I still hold tight. He lives on beneath everything I do. His presence influenced who I was, and his absence influence who I am. Our lives are shaped as much by those who leave us as they are by those who stay. Insight is our gift. Memory is our guide. Loss is our legacy.

Women are SPECIAL ♥

           

A little boy asked his mother, "Why are you crying?" "Because I'm a woman," she told him.

"I don't understand," he said. His Mom just hugged him and said, "And you never will."www.iamsuperkyla.blogspot.com / SuperKyla :3
Later the little boy asked his father, "Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?"

"All women cry for no reason," was all his dad could say.

The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry.

Finally he put in a call to God. When God got on the phone, he asked,

"God, why do women cry so easily?"

God said, "When I made the woman she had to be special.

I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet gentle enough to give comfort.

I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children.

I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up, and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining.

I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her very badly.

I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.

I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him And finally, I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed."

"You see my son," said God, "the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart the
place where love resides.

- Credits to the owner