The Truth

Wow. Who would've thought that I would actually keep this blog, or let alone, a blog running? I've never settled on a blog before. This is just so surreal I already deserve a finally-contented-on-a-url award. Wuzza.

Nuthin, it's just that recently... I had a conversation(a blunt one, not to mention) with someone that made me think about a lot of things. This person said nobody likes me, he was even trying to manipulate his words to make it a little bearable, but yeah, bottomline is "nobody likes me that they can't even fathom telling me or living with me" is what this certain person implied. I won't name names. The worst thing about it was he based his words on the old me. The high school me. Who graduated years ago, by the way.

I am not that person anymore.

And for what it's worth, he was the ulterior root why I became that kind of person. He fooled everyone. And forces of the earth forbid, but I have never forgiven him. I will never be able to.

Anyway, so not the point.

So when he told me that, I felt like I was the most terrible person that ever existed. Then I came to a point where I see myself on my own funeral. Made me think about things. So you see, it's like a tradition that someone should speak for you when you die, like sharing memories or stuff. I think I am a better friend than daughter, sister, relative, or whatsoever. I want a friend to speak for me, share memories of me on my funeral.  If my family(okay I named names oh my golly sue me now) really think that low(it's just that how this certain person's words made me feel) of me, then what do they have to say about me? I sure don't want my funeral visitors to hear such horrible stories about me, at least not when I'm already dead. So yeah, I want my friends to speak for me. Not because I'm a better friend than whatever-other-things-I-am, but because they are the ones who know me. I stopped showing who I really am to my family the moment some situation(like when my father cheated on my mom and on us and never said a sincere sorry. oh shit don't tell him i told you that hahahaha srsly)  broke me in the past. Or maybe, the pain was just too excruciating that the only thing they know about me after everything was that I was a screw-up rebel who knows nothing but to screw up.

I was really hurt. Sa aming magkakapatid, ako lang ang nakakaintindi nung sitwasyon. Basta, I was really a wreck at the time being. Since then, I never let anyone from my family get to know the real me. I'm different when I'm with them. I made sure of that.

Grabe, kung pwede kong balikan lahat ng nakaraan, I would definitely exclude going back to that part of my past again. Sobrang laki ng nasira sakin.

If you want to ask me, yes, "buo" pa rin ang pamilya namin. On the outside. Just for the sake of being called one. I still talk to my father like a normal kid... but no, I am far from normal.

I am really thankful I have my friends.

So Joanna Rose Santana, if ever you are reading this, when I die, speak for me. For the last time, tell the world who I really am.