To loathe Regina George…

(To Angel, Nix, my dear darling Denmark and everyone else: keep it secret.)


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People could make so much sense. But lately, I can't help the annoyance actuated by people who stop making sense. Maybe it's a case of word vomit: people say things but truth is they don't have a clue. At one point he asserts something; next thing you know, he's contradicting it ( Read more... )

Song Verona Lee ( Read more... )

It was so nice of Joe to open up over dinner. He had to deal with a bunch of classmates who looked at him differently ever since the "group text" he made ( Read more... )

I miss my Krizelda. I remember her looking at me when I'm seated infront of the dresser combing my hair infront of the oval mirror. From me to the left was the bed bearing my nine-year-old sister--Krizelda and I were ten years apart, but still so close. She was lying on her chest, both hands supporting her chin. She stared, perhaps memorizing the ( Read more... )

The world of Verona Lee is a mystery ( Read more... )

When Pie commented on my voice, things were never the same for days. He may have meant well for constructive criticism, but for me, not was destructively offensive. I grew bitter days after he said that thing about my high notes, so embittered that I'd grown cold at him. But I couldn't bring myself to hate him for the rest of the first sem, so I ( Read more... )

Today marks the beginning: another six months of toiling with papers and profs. It's another chance to achieve ( Read more... )