Grey's Anatomy: Unaccompanied Minor.

So, I just finished watching Grey's Anatomy Season Seven's final episode. No guns and police were involved with this episode unlike season six's final episode, where a lot of people died. 

This season's finale was kind of weird for me. 

I mean, Derek left Meredith with Zola; Karev's new "Izzie" (you know, with the commit-in-a-relationship-then-leave-sort-of-event) stole  his shot for a residency in Africa ; Yang's pregnant but again, she doesn't like the thought of her being a mother and then there's Owen who's insisting to keep the baby; Lexie is obviously still in love with Sloan even though she and the Avery are together BUT she chose to stay with Avery because he makes her happy; Adele, the chief's wife was technically the reason why Mer tampered with the drug trial; April became the chief resident (ooh, the follow-the-protocol girl); and the most awesome thing that happened to this episode was when Teddy finally realized that she has feelings for Henry too (take that trauma counselor!). 

What can I say about the finale?

Well, it wasn't as bongga than last season's finale but the thing about this finale is that it leaves you hanging. It made me formulate scenarios as to what might happen next. If Karev is going back to Mer's house or if Derek comes back to his senses or if Yang changes her mind about terminating the fetus or if Mer can handle being a mother or if . . .

 The worst thing about Yang and Mer is that they only think about themselves, they only think about their own pain, they only think about their own future. They shouldn't have gotten married if they want to do things their own way. I love them both but as what I saw, they deserve what they got. They should learn from this. Marriage isn't just about having sex or having a baby or who's going to provide this or that; marriage should be about sharing the right to make decisions or to plan for a future together. 

Anyhoo, I could really relate to Mer's last words before the last scene fades out. I feel her pain.

"Losing love is like organ damage, it's like dying, the only difference is death ends, this--it can go on forever."

I'll end this post with the song that was played in the end of the episode.

IN FRONT OF YOU by THE QUIET KIND

 *senseless Na.Na*

They Choke Me Like a Noose

I've been feeling low lately. I feel like nobody trusts me anymore (Am I paranoid or what?). I'm having suicidal thoughts again. Whenever I am thinking deeply about something or whenever I try to close my eyes, I always think about cutting through my abdomen or my wrists. I don't know. I just want to run away from this horrid place, you know. This place doesn't feel like home; this doesn't feel right.

I'm tired of pretending to smile, I'm tired of pretending that I care for others, I'm tired of feeling inferior. In short, I'm tired of feeling anything. I can't even cry anymore. 

Whenever I think about my situation right now, I feel this tightness in my throat and this horrible ache in my chest (I am not exaggerating!). I don't know whom to confide these thoughts and so I decided to put it in my own version of Dumbledore's Pensieve. 

Whenever I am in my parent's house(As what I have said, this place doesn't feel like home), I feel inferior. It feels like I am not important here at all, that I am a burden and that they don't need me at all.

I am tired. I am really tired.

I don't feel loved at all. I don't feel that tender feeling. I want to feel loved. I want to be needed. I want to feel something other than pain. This may sound OA or whatever but what I'm saying is true, in every sense of it. I feel pain. Every random conversation, every word uttered, every smile faked, every forced laughter -- these are painful reminder of how aloof I am.

In school, they also see me as this strong, fearless, playful person BUT truly, I am nothing like what I am showing. I ain't strong, I ain't playful. I am always scared. I am scared of being left out that's why I am faking laughs and smiles, so everybody would want to be friends with me. I am scared of being rejected that's why I am chasing after someone whom I knew I can't have. I am scared of failing. I am scared of the reality, of consequences. I ain't a risk taker. I don't take risks, I always play safe. I am scared and nobody knows about it other than me. I talk a lot about myself. I know that for a fact. I am involving myself in every conversation and making it all about me because I want to be heard. I want to be heard. I want people to listen to me because it seems like no one ever listens to me here.

I have issues, A LOT of issues and no one is there to help. No one cares about me here.

I want to die but in reality, I am scared of death.

 I'll end this post with a song from ESCAPE THE FATE entitled ISSUES.

 

This is the death of me;
I feel it constantly.
Just like an enemy
that wants to see me bleed.
So I try to be silent, but my words, they explode like hand grenades.
I just gotta stay calm, before I let this time bomb blow up in my face.

These issues pin me to the floor.
These issues are my overlord.
I feel so dominated;
These issues, they choke my like a noose.
(Issues)
They choke me like a noose.
(Issues)
They choke me like a noose.

The Hounds of Hell, they cry,
that's how they get to me.
Inject my head with lies, the pain's astonishing.
Like a brick or a stone, slowing crushing my bones, sending me to my grave.
And it's such a fake, this life that I've made, I'm going insane.

These issues pin me to the floor.
These issues are my overlord.
I feel so dominated; These issues, they choke my like a noose.
(Issues)
They choke me like a noose.
(Issues)
They choke me like a noose.
(Issues)
(Issues)
They choke me like a noose.

These issues pin me to the floor.
These issues are my overlord.
I feel so dominated;
These issues, they choke my like a noose.
(Issues)
They choke me like a noose.
(Issues)
They choke me like a noose.
(Issues)
they choke me like a noose.
(Issues)
they choke me like a noose.

credit: video photo lyrics 

   *senseless Na.Na*

Behind the Name.

The Senseless Pensieve.

Yes, I changed my URL domain. Why? Because I just had the urge to change it. Blame me and my impulsiveness. Last Tuesday, I was browsing through my tumblr dashboard when I came across a photo of the second part of the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. So, I decided to read the book again but I got tired and so I decided to search for awesome quotes from the books.

While I was browsing and reading through the quotes, I fell in love with a quote by the headmaster himself, Albus Dumbledore. It was all about the pensieve.

I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind.... At these times... I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. ~Albus Dumbledore

I have such crazy thoughts and I think too much, thus, the quote above somewhat explains my desire to post random thoughts in my tumblr and blogger accounts.

My blogs and journal are like Dumbledore's Pensieve. They are places where I store most of the senseless thoughts that my mind produces. 

  *senseless Na.Na*

Wounded, Barely Healed Heart.

Was I ever in love with him? What is love? Can someone really have a definite definition to an abstract thing? Can we trust Mr. Webster with this one?

I think, we all have our own definitions of love; these definitions may be simple or it may be complex but all I know is that even until now, I don't really know what love really is.

If having that feeling of being in cloud nine is love, then I must have been in love; or

If thinking about that someone too much that all you could ever talk about and think about is him, then I must have been in love; or

If having that urge to see him everyday or make out as much as you want is love then I must have been; or

if being hurt and having to feel your heart literally breaking after you found out that he doesn't "love" you anymore and that he found someone who's way better than you are is love then I must have been insanely, irrevocably in love with the wrong person.

I know, I was young then and I didn't have any clue what love is all about, even now. Maybe it's just infatuation or an addiction or was it just a phase? or maybe it happened because I found someone who's attracted to me for who I am, a weird and disorganized being? 

I don't really know but all I know is that when he hurt me, when he dumped me over another girl, it destroyed my innocence. He destroyed my thoughts, my fantasy about this magical, abstract thing that they call love. I even burned bridges which clearly sucks because I've been shooing guys who might actually be right for me.

Maybe the reason why I am into chasing guys who aren't attracted to me is because I have been subconsciously protecting myself from another heartache, from another rejection, from being dumped again, from being hurt or from whatever baggage that love brings with him. I guess, I'm saving myself from love's after-shock.

Six years after the incident, I kind of lost my hope to love. Will I ever love again? Will I be able to give myself to another guy just like what I did the last time? Will I ever be ready? Am I totally healed? 

I conclude this post with a song from one of the talented bands that captured my wounded, barely healed heart: THE SCRIPT.

The End Where I Begin

 "The cure for the heart is to move along . ."

 

  *senseless Na.Na*

Extraordinarily Ordinary.

Like any other storybook, mine started with. . . .Once upon a time.

In the morning of November 28, 1991 at exactly 7:14, a baby girl named Na.Na was born. Yes, I was born that day. I wasn’t born healthy though. I experienced cord coil thus I was held inside my mother’s womb for quite some time until the OB – GYN decided that it was time for me to see the world, well, the delivery room first.
Fact is, it isn’t our mothers who saw us first when we're born, it is the OB-GYN; also, it isn’t our mothers who first touched us, it is the nurse-in-charge in the nursery room.

The pediatric doctor thought that I may have ingested wastes because I was held too long inside my mother’s womb and so, she ordered the nurses to have me injected with antibiotics.Yes, for one week after my mother and I were discharged from the hospital, I had to have antibiotic shots.

I read a book once and it stated there that there is a big possibility that I may have a damaged brain or worst; I may have died even before I opened my eyes because of the cord coil thing. So, I came up with a conclusion that maybe because of what happened to me, having experienced your own cord, the cord that connects you and your mother, coiled around your neck which hindered oxygen to go into your brain, is the reason why I have such messed up thoughts.

My name isn’t really Na.Na. but  I’d like to keep it that way. I am extraordinarily ordinary; I was raised by an ordinary family in an ordinary house. In short, I am just a commoner. A common person just like anybody else.

I have a story just like everybody else. Like, how my father bought me a car but then he decided to sell it; how I tried hard to be somebody else when I know that I am better off, me; how I can't seem to understand my own mind; how I picture myself cutting off my abdomen a lot of times and planned murders and suicides; how forgetful I tend to be; how I brave I let on just so nobody would ask me if I'm okay; how stupidly I acted in high school to the extent that my teacher named me names; how badly I was hurt when I got cheated on by the first person I trusted so much; and etc. 

I have trust issues, abandonment issues, hell lot of issues. I may never be able to totally trust someone because I've done that and it fuckingly ruined my life. I have messed up thoughts, confusing brain.

My life is a book. It's a compilation of stories, stories that may be tragic or happy or whatever emotions are there. I don't know how and when it will end. Will I have a tragic ending or a comedic one? or  Will I ever have my own version of prince and 'happily ever after'? Truth is, I don't really know and no one will ever know.

All I know is, this is my life; this is my book. I am the editor, author. It may take me a year, maybe 20 but it's still an on-going book made in order to give this mixed up world a tiny eenie bit of significance.

This book may never be read and my name maybe forgotten but honestly, I don't really care.

*senseless Na.Na*