Nine

9. "I" Rajon Rondo, Michael Jordan's Olympic number. My birthday.

Nine days left. Nine has always been my number, and I love counting down to my birthday especially if it's less than ten days left... in short... nine days to go.

Despite growing old, I've always looked forward to my birthday, every single year. I love birthdays, they're just the one day I love that allows me to just forget everything and be whoever I want to be. I don't know why... I just love it.

It always starts nine days before my birthday. March 1. A major countdown is always happening. So, nine days left... I always make a series of journal entries, blogs, etc. I just want to remember what's happening before my birthday comes, I guess.

Hahaha. So, this is the start of a major countdown. So far, nothing's been happening. It's a bit more than a week off my birthday, and I won't let anything get to me, between now and then.

Eleven

11. "K" My high school class. John Wall.

I have twelve days to go in my teen years. I'm currently on an accounting class free cut. Watching the Miami-Washington game in the CTC computer lab. Speaking of the Heat. Wade is having a great game. LeBron is playing well, with twenty points, and Bosh is shooting poorly, but has contributed in some way or another. Nick Young and John Wall have been working for the Wizards.

The Miami Heat. There are analogies very few will understand. This is one of them. The Miami Heat. As I'm edging away from my teen years, things are starting to get more serious for me in life. This is one of them. The Miami Heat is a very important team in the NBA for me now. I have been a LeBron fan since he was playing for the Cavaliers. It's not just LeBron James, though that I support in Miami. Dwyane Wade, Eddie House, Mike Miller, the whole lot, also Erik Spoelstra, the Fil-Am head coach.

The game has ended though, with Dwyane Wade logging in another huge game for Miami. A plus-10 point differential. Scoring 41 points, 5 rebounds. He did his part in a shootout with Nick Young who had 38 for the Wizards.

For those who will understand this analogy, it isn't about basketball. I can feel everything already becoming so serious, and I think it's definitely time to be. I think it's time for LeBron to stop blaming his teammates and to stop chasing after the teams who will give him a title. It's time for him to bring the Miami Heat to a title of their own. LeBron needs to get it in his head that he can only play for one team, he can only have so many people to help him. It's time to get serious in Miami and bring a championship to this town. No Dallas Mavericks, no Boston Celtics, no Houston Rockets, no more Cleveland Cavaliers. There is now only LeBron, the Miami Heat and the NBA Finals in the near distance. It's time to get serious.

Thirteen

13. "M". Steve Nash. Unlucky. Friday. Janine's birthday. Etcetera. Sassy's MnMs. The number thirteen reminds me of so much things.

Thirteen days to go. Thirteen last days of my teen years. It's the morning of the twenty-fifth, and well... There are some recollections to do, some memories to visit, and a lot to contemplate on.

I feel like an NBA player, or an NBA team perhaps...? It's like I'm nearing the end of the regular season when everything's just so light, and I'm heading towards the playoffs, where everything gets bloody. Fouls are harder, more physical play is allowed, more pressure, and everyone's just more intense.

So, I'm nearing the end of my teenage years. It's time to turn the big TWO-OH. Twenty. I'm excited, but kind of sad. I'm ending my life as a teenager. I wished that I could have lived forever in the teens, but time cannot stop for me or anyone. So, the most has to be made out of what I have left, so... let us be irresponsible and immature for thirteen more days. How does that sound, who wishes to join me? Whoever will, if you can read this blog, when you see me, punch me in the arm, I'd enjoy that. Make me feel like a kid, one last stretch before everything gets to being serious.

Oops!!

There's a big "OOPS!" moment in everyone's life. A big accidental moment where you feel something change. Not necessarily your entire life, but maybe your outlook on something, feelings for someone, an attitude, among other things.

It's just like that one time you pick up that carton of milk in the fridge. You smell it to be sure it's fine, and it seems fine. But, OOPS! You take a sip and well... beg to differ. A big oops moment, that may get you sick of milk.

It's just like that one time you get stuck in school, and hang out with someone only to find out that she's not who you think she is. Appearing in front of you and everyone else in public, she puts on a mask that will allow her to blend in with everyone else and what everyone else is doing. However, all you need is a half-hour alone, everything may become clearer.

It's like that one more gulp of chocolate milk. When you have a spicy feeling in your throat, and have no choice but to drink milk. Then in an instant, milk is not so horrible for you, and you start drinking every night again before you know it.

It's just like that one-time you're both stuck in school, and you get to know each other better. It's just like that one time you spend time with her, and suddenly, you fail to study for that test you have tomorrow.

Tudiculate

v. to bruise or pound.

They said when you run, your heart gets bruised, although just a little bit. It heals quite quickly as well, but it still bruises. I have been taking beatings day after day after day. The school stress, the mental incapacity to handle everything around, the emotional incapacity to do what I have to do now. Everything is just leading to a bruised heart that will just take longer and longer to heal.

I know I should take a rest from all this, but there's nothing I can do, I don't actually want to do anything. Whenever I try to take a rest, something comes up, and this time, whatever's happening is kind of awful. I guess....

Teliferous

adj. bearing darts or missiles.

There are things in life that you have, and you love having, but hurts too much to hold on to. Just like an abusive friend perhaps? Maybe a cheating girlfriend? Or a crush that just keeps you around, and plays with you. Or feelings for a person you know you'll never be with. Or your first car, that always breaks down, and constantly need repairs.

This car of mine, a really old model, older than my sister, is too much of a pain. I've had it repaired so many, many times before. It just keeps on breaking down, one problem after another, but I love that car. It's my first, and it's something special to me. It's close to my heart.

However, it being old, it's teliferous mileage is starting to beat down on it. Damaging and wrecking every single mechanism that works in it, slowly. Costing so much in repairs, as much as I'd love to keep it around, when it gets unbearable, there is a need for goodbyes.

And compared to damages from darts and missiles, a goodbye is a nuclear bomb, just waiting to annihilate every single drop of life in me. So, I guess, I'll pick my poison when the time comes.

Succisive

adj. of spare or extra time.

There are a lot of dead moments in life, where you find yourself just staring into either: a) another person's eyes, b) at the television/computer, or c) into nothing. Let's just say that scenario (b) is happening to us. Imagine a very hot and dry summer day, and all you have right now is the television set, one of your favorite TV shows, and an electric fan pointed straight at you. What do you do? What is happening?

Here's what happened: the first thing you did was eat breakfast, and due to the annoying summer heat, you can't take it upon yourself to get up, put on a shirt and jeans and walk outside. You're still wearing that same old basketball jersey, and soccer shorts you went to bed with. Because you can't go outside, you find something to do at home, and Facebook just doesn't quite cut it when there's nothing else happening, so you turn on the TV. You lie on your bed, cross your legs, and flip through the channels, slowly, one by one, looking for a show to watch.

Finally, you settle on one of your favorite cartoons as a child. Boredom has gotten to you already, you're watching a TV show, you've supposedly outgrown. After, say, ten minutes, you've outgrown it, almost instantly, so you find another show to watch. Then, a few channels up, you see an old episode of an old sitcom. So you proceed to watch, only to find out you're in the midst of a marathon. But wait, two or three episodes in, you're already so bored, that you're watching, but not paying attention. You're watching to the point that you don't understand what's happening. You fail to comprehend the humor of an old episode you once enjoyed so much. Succisive moments has done so much for you, you've lost your sense of humor, you've lost your sanity.

However, unsuccisive moments do just as much for you. What do you get when you're on writing a 15-page paper, for 10 hours straight. You realize that you're title, introduction, the first two pages of the body have no connection with what you're writing now. What was I writing about? A TV show? Dead moments in life? The summer heat? And now, school? How did it get from there to here? Succisive moments do that much, you lose your ability to comprehend. Or have you really? Every patch of something is connected to another patch of something through spare, empty spaces. It's impossible not to pass through nothing to get from point A to B. So, going through life, succisive moments exist, and these succisive moments are what fill up life, when you have nothing to do at the moment.

Obstrigillate

v. to oppose; to resist

In my life, there are a lot of things that happen that I don't necessarily enjoy, or even want to happen. There are a lot of things that I can't control, a lot of phenomena that I have to live with.

It's a pretty rough time, and only one other person will get this. So, let's just say that we have two subjects, a refrigerator and a magnet. The magnet has an attraction to the refrigerator, and the magnet can't do anything about it until a human hand pulls it off the refrigerator. The refrigerator can't suddenly stop being made of metal and just drop the magnet. The refrigerator will never understand how the magnet is just so hung up on the fridge. Then, again, the magnet doesn't realize it either. But, the magnet is just one of many others stuck on the magnetic door of the fridge, and other special magnets just take up better places than this magnet. Would it be possible for this little magnet to obstrigillate a magnetic force, and just drop to the floor?

Vadiation

n. act of requiring a pledge.

I've often said that I'm willing to wait for her, with "her" referring to many different people in the course of my life. However, during the waiting period, there are things that happen and every once in a while, I lose contact, thus she takes whatever feelings I had for her, away.

But, as I normally put in these blogs, many things have changed, since the past, and always, I try to make something good out of all these changes.

This time, I'm not so sure that the girl can just go away like that. We're in the same school, the first time in 12 years that I actually had girls in my class. There's no possible way to ever lose contact, because we're together almost everyday. But there's one problem, and I shall quote Ted Mosby on it. It's hard to be around her. Although, it's not for the same reason Ted Mosby gave, it's for the same reason he meant, almost the same reason, at least.

Ted said first those words: "Lily hates you. She hates you so much it's hard to be around you." Meanwhile, Ted, inside, was speaking to himself: "Ted loves you. Ted loves you so much, it's hard to be around you." Thus, ending the friendship with Zoey. But doesn't everything start from friendship as that episode proves already. Ted and Zoey used to hate each other's guts, but became friends and fell in love with one another. Doesn't that disprove the whole theory that friends won't work out, and gives life to the saying that, "that's how it starts." I believe that not everyone goes out to meet people to be lovers right away. They don't start that way. I've never heard of any couple that started out as lovers the moment they first laid eyes on each other. They always began as friends.

I have no reason to believe that I cannot have feelings for a friend, when I have done so quite often in the past. I don't have feelings for appearance, or beauty, but attraction definitely starts there, but I've developed feelings for character, and the friendship we normally go through. I have never admitted to having feelings for someone knowing them just a couple of days. I've had feelings for, however, a lot of my friends, and even sometimes, though they've left me behind in their memories. Sometimes, those feelings eventually return, just like a reminder of a promise I once made to truly fall in love. Oftentimes, they don't last, but feeling the way I once did feels good, and I am feeling that now. I have to ask a vadiation of myself. I need to feel this way, maybe a subtle reminder that if this goes away, it will never go away permanently until I find a reason for it to. So, whoever you are, if you can read this, I hope that you'll be able to feel the same way too, it's a great feeling, and I want to make you feel the exact same way. I hope you'll let me let you, and if you will, vadiate me to say I will love you whole-heartedly, and forever.

Veteratorian

adj. subtle

There are a lot of things in life that need not be said, or that cannot be said. There are things that are better left unsaid, but need to be known. And sometimes, veteratorian hints are not really enough to say what you need to say.

So, another Valentine blog? Maybe...

If you get to read this, I hope you get the hint.

So, it all started about more than a year ago: when we met. I never really thought much about it 'cause I had feelings for someone else. However, things happen, times change, and well... it just happened, about a year ago. I started seeing her everyday, and well, I started talking to her, about randomly small things. And through a very confusing part in my life, what started out as a small-time crush, had eventually developed into what I call "butterflies." Slowly, from time-to-time, I'd drop obvious hints, and I've been trying to tell her in a veteratorian manner what I really want to just shout to the rest of the world. Isn't it pretty obvious that no matter how much I get hurt, I still won't stop trying? Isn't that subtle enough for you?

Well... It's a day removed from Valentine's, and another not-so-veteratorian surprise is waiting in less than 24 hours. It's a bad move, but I just wanted to support a friend. I hope it won't turn out so bad...

Archiloquy

n. first part of a speech

Everything has to begin from somewhere. And having finished our case study on the origin of life, I must think that I have begun from somewhere as well. All relationships begin from somewhere. And since it's Valentine's day soon enough. Let us talk about the archiloquy of the novel I'm attempting to write, and someday I hope I'll finish, my love story. A story I won't be ashamed to tell.

Let us recount the experiences. It's like a long, well-thought, written speech a speaker would deliver at some talk. He uses notes, a slideshow, pretty much, he has a guide to help get through his presentation. However, a speaker's archiloquy has pretty much no factual data to support his upcoming, still non-existing stand. Thus, notes will probably not help him.

The archiloquy to my love story is pretty much the same thing. I had no guides, nothing to help me remember that beautiful girl's face when we were introduced. So she waved hi, spoke my name, and re-introduced herself. And what did I do? I nodded, gave an awkward smile, and proceeded on my way. When I left, I resisted looking back, and resisted having an awkward conversation in an already awkward moment. And then, well... that's how it all began.

It's quite funny how introductions quite often turn out as wrecks for presentations. When you try to be entertaining and play a game, it never comes out as planned. Thus taking too long, or the crowd becomes too unruly. In my case, well... I never planned an introduction. The archiloquy wrote itself. What's worse is that, when I know I need it to stop writing itself, the pen just bleeds on more. It's like that last piece of food on your plate you know you need to finish, but you know you can't eat one more bite. The archiloquy kept on writing itself. And one day, it just ended, and moved on to another part of the novel I wanted to go through, the rest of it. And when the novel ended with a somewhat sad ending, an ending I never wanted to tell, the sequel started to write itself, too.

Ossifragant

adj. bone-breaking

One eventually goes through the troubles of injuries in life. Especially if you're either, athletic, trying-to-be-athletic, or intensely clumsy. What more if you're a combination of all three? You're a walking disaster waiting to happen. Also, there are some people cursed with scaevity(n. unluckiness) who, without managing to do anything suffer injuries.

However, ossifragant injuries do not only occur physically, but as a figure of speech, I have been injured ossifragantly before. I've never had a broken bone in the past. Except for what I think could possibly be either a stress fracture in my shins, or shinsplints. But that's the worst injury I've probably gotten, or maybe the carpal tunnel scare during the golfer days, or the ankle back in 2009 (I couldn't walk for two days(?) I think)

But the worst injuries of my life cannot be felt physically. (Although physical effects may occur after some time.) These injuries cannot be avoided as well. No matter how careful you are yourself, as time passes, you'll just have these injuries, and they will change your life forever.

However, Valentine's season is not a time to grieve, not a time to be sad at all. It's a time to rejoice, a day for couples to celebrate what they have, what they've shared, what they've been through, or what they are going through, despite it being good or bad.

And despite this blog having a very negative title. I must share something that was, for me, ossifragant, yet it gave me more reason to believe in something. An event that occurred so far away from Valentine's day.

I'm one of the jealous types, I think there's no argument there. So, when I found out that some of my friends had been keeping stories from me, I decided to deceive and play around. I took advantage of the internet, online messaging almost killed this friendship. Eventually, I found out the stories they were keeping from me, but at the cost of something greater. This friend of mine... let's call her Coke, just vanished. She was online, but she never talked to me, even as I tried speaking to her. She just went about her own business, never failing to ignore me. Fast forward... around 7 or 8 years later... to 2011. Well... I can just say now, that she's the person I really tell everything to. Despite our limited chances of seeing each other, because she lives and studies so far away. Approximately eight years ago, I was twelve. It was an emotionally ossifragant experience for me, losing a friend I had held so dear, I guess it was a broken experience. And the broken bones, a broken heart really teaches you something. I guess a broken heart is a good experience every once in a while. But break a heart too much, and it becomes as cold as ice when it heals. It will never break again, probably, but it's pretty hard to soften up as well. So, a heart can only break so much times, but this Valentine's I don't want my heart breaking, but if it must, let it be as ossifragant as it can get. It'll heal stronger that way.

Embolimaeal

adj. intercalary; inserted into the calendar.

Why not we have a countdown? FOUR days left. It's the tenth of February, and well, I have [somewhat] a plan for Valentine's. It's just like a birthday for me, I plan on doing something special, but my plan never turns out the way I want it to. Valentine's, Christmas and my birthday are significant embolimaeal events for me. They're always pretty big, and Valentine's was never a part until I got into college.

So, let me recount all the Valentine's days I've planned since my first year in high school...

Ok fine, second year, I don't remember my freshman year so much...

In second year, I was planning to screw Valentine's day, go home, and sleep! This was the year where A*** and myself well..... things ended quite badly... I don't really remember how everything started and ended, and now, I don't think she remembers me.

In third year, Valentine's day... was on a weekday... and it was PROM season. Wow, I think I'll keep the details between me and my prom date. (Hello to you, prom date, if you get the chance to see this blog.) But to summarize, well... I had fun, and now I possess a traboccant collection of fun but somewhat awkward memories. It wasn't exactly Valentine's but PROM night was pretty amazing in itself.

In my senior year in high school... Wow, Valentine's in my senior year. I remember spending Valentine's this year with new-found friends. I'm not so sure on this, but this year, Valentine's was spent well.... goofing off.

In my college freshman year... Well, I liked Valentine's day this year. Though, if memory serves me well, it was on a Sunday, so, my Valentine's plan was delayed by one day. However, the memory should remain between me and her. So, the details shall remain hidden elsewhere, in a separate latibule.

Sophomore year of college... Well, this year has proven to be full of surprises. I have a plan, I'm not sure about anything though, because as of late, everything's been pretty confusing. I could say that Valentine's has a fifty-fifty chance of being a complete wreck, and the other fifty percent chance with everything remaining the same. I'm sure of this already, that this Valentine's no progress will occur. I can only hope now for the better fifty percent, for things to remain the way they are with.... [Bugs Bunny].

So, do I smell a personal tradition in the making? Valentine's with equal embolimaeality as my birthday? Maybe so. I don't know. I'll just play it by year, whether Valentine's would be as special on a yearly basis. For as long as I remember, Valentine's never really meant anything to me until recently.

Isangelous

adj. equivalent to the angels.

A Valentine's blog for the upcoming Valentine's day? Maybe it is just fitting, or a bit too soon?

Either way, it's up here already, and if you're reading this, then maybe you're excited perhaps? (Or you may have managed to find my blog if you're not Janine, Crystal, Arlene or Ariela.) I'm a bit love sick, since the last How I Met Your Mother episode had a very sweet break-up-to-make-up ending.

The recent episode made me dream (or rather, daydream) about my love story yet again, about my wish that it would be like in the movies, a happy ending after a struggle to find love? Is that the love story I wished for myself?

Probably not.

No one likes to suffer, but not everyone can have their way. In love, there is always sacrifice, compromise and understanding involved. And I have begun to love, or adore, or whatever term may suit my feelings the best, and I have understood that I may be hurt, or I may hurt, if I am not careful with what I do or what I say. All I can do is be careful and hope that every decision will lead me to the path where no one gets hurt, but we know that's too an ideal thought. So, I'd rather that I get hurt, if ever one needs to be. That's the sacrifice and compromise I'm willing to make. And beyond all the cuts, bruises and wounds, if the horrible exterior would disguise my interior, or if anyone would choose to turn a blind eye to what is isangelous about my interior, then so be it. In my eyes, she is no longer isangelous as well. However, if there was just one girl, any one, that would be willing to look past all the marks and scars that these injuries have left me, then she must be the angel I'm looking for: the angel that has understands all these injuries, however, has seen me equally isangelous to her, though that is probably not quite possible.

Traboccant

adj. superabundant

There are a lot of things that makes life worth living, but what are those things?

First would probably the thrill of mystery. We don't know whatever to expect, the best way to find out is through anticipation, or making a wild guess, or just feeling things. There are things I thought I felt, when in fact there was nothing. There are times I couldn't feel or know anything, when I should have known that there was something. These things are pretty hard to pinpoint, and my fair share of these experiences has been somewhat up and down for me. Of course, everyone has their bad times, everyone has their good times. I've had former crushes like me back, after I've finally gotten over everything. I've had fights with friends. I've had disagreements, and make-ups, and break-ups.

However what makes life very interesting for me is the traboccant amount of memories and stories that I have to share. They may not be interesting for you, but without every single one of these memories, life won't be as colorful for me. All the drama makes life exciting to live, all the joy makes the hardships worthwhile, and all thee pain and sadness are but mere obstacles to make this game called life a bit more challenging. Just like a video game, it's not fun if it's easy, so life has a default difficulty setting, where-in the difficulties we experience will give an array of traboccant life-long memories, which we will someday tell. Tell to who? Our kids? Our grandkids? Not only, of course! We will tell them to our friends. Those who gave and enjoyed with us our traboccant array of memories. Recall a single time you had so much memories to share with your friends. Maybe re-tell the story, and ask them if they remember. Maybe twenty, thirty, forty years after your graduation, apart from all the new memories you'll make. You'll always have an extremely traboccant supply to share, laugh about and to reminisce.

Quaeritate

v. to ask

There are many questions that have been plaguing me for a long time now... And I want to ask them all. But the biggest question of all is this: "why are these questions haunting me?"

I've always wanted to have an answer for everything. It always pained me to answer: "I don't know." Until I realized that 'I don't know' qualifies for a legitimate answer after all.

Being just a human being, I'm not omniscient, I'm not omnipotent. I'm just regular old me. There are really questions that I will never be able to answer. I've always wanted to give the best answer when someone asked me, 'why?' It's a quaeritation that has a capability of being ineffable, especially with very trivial topics such as love, life, and faith. And recently, I've quaeritated myself, 'why do I...?' It's really hard to answer that question. And there are a million and more ways to answer these types of questions. All that I have left to ask now is: "Why do I need an answer?" I guess I have a somewhat correct answer, but it's for the wrong question. "I don't need an answer.... just yet."

Venustation

n. act of causing someone to be beautiful or handsome.

I have always wondered: what makes girls beautiful? What phenomenon must occur for there to be attraction?

I have always been one to find many, many people attractive, but not necessarily the way everyone finds someone attractive. My type isn't exactly as you put it, 'normal.'

I have been asked before why I liked someone. Yes, someone has told me that my crush isn't pretty. I guess it was a let down at first. Then, I realized that I didn't really care so much. In my eyes, I saw beauty, and from my eyes, no one can steal beauty away.

I've even went up to someone and told her she beautiful, but instead of a 'thank you,' I received in reply: 'okay, this is awkward' and a 'why?' I didn't know how to respond. By some venustation, perhaps, there is an answer. I will never really know. It's like having a favorite color. Would you ever know what makes a color attractive? Or what makes music soothing? Or what makes flowers so pleasing to the eyes? God made made them that way. That's why.

This is now addressed to all those who ever asked. I can give you a reason, just one. I don't need to explain or defend myself, I just need you to hear me out. God is your venustation. He made you that way, God made you in such a way, that you have someone that will adore you. Someone that will find you beautiful, gorgeous, lovely, irresistible. I am one of those guys, and I pray to God that He made me equally as beautiful in your eyes. For beauty isn't something that will only be external. I hope that my beauty will be found by someone, and loved by someone.

Latibule

You may be wondering (if you'll ever find this) why the title is "My Latibule" or why the URL is inalatibule (in a latibule). Or before anything else, you may wonder what a Latibule is.

There are a lot of dying words in the English vocabulary already, there are words that not even a dictionary can define. A friend of mine once sent me a link to where a few of these words may be found.

It's a very entertaining website where certain words of old may be found and incorporated into our vocabulary. You can even adopt (use in everyday speech as often as you can) a word here.

And, in a long, desperate attempt to write an epic poem, or a blog, or something similar to any of those two, I searched for a word I can start with.

It was just there, on a black background, very unseen, in silver script: "latibule." It was defined like this:

n. hiding place

A latibule isn't a latibule if everyone knows about it.

So, with that, I leave everyone to search for me here, if you'll all find me. It's time for me to retreat now, into my latibule.