Tik Tok..

Deafening clicks and ticks.. The clock is constantly ticking, my ardous forbearing reader. And its skinny hands shall continue coursing its way second by second to sugary infinity.

Hi! It's me again. Quite engrossed in this sweet reboot I am venturing in. Lacking in this requirement the human body demands though. Earthlings call it "sleep". An unfamiliarity to your vocabulary as well? Ahh, fellow nocturnal creauture, you know... The imminent act where we close both eye lids. We shut down our conscious mind.  Let our subliminal selves take us blissfully away to dream land. The haven of deliruim and utter ecstasy. A yearn for euphoria I suppose. Who wouldn't want to habituate in paradise, eh? Hell yeah, I would.

So... I am currently submerged, nose-deep in shimmering shenanigans.. It is what you would call.. An oh so buttery "venture". I am painstakingly treading my way above the waters of majestic confection. A sweet, sweet culinary expedition. I am pretty pumped up! Took me a long time to feels this again. Hungry.. Excited! The fire is back! But I am not going to lie... The sugar buzz contributes to the hyper modes, my beloved reader. Ahhh, it has never let me down me, the power of glucose.. Amen.

PS.

Stay tuned for the best cookies, cakes, pies and everthing nice you will ever, ever consume in your lifetime and beyond! Hehe. I kid, I kid. But seriously, I shall humbly present my babies soon. I just have to make everything perfect for you guys. Share a piece of my ultimate euphoria. Sweet sensations for the perpetually hungry.

Ready your sacharrine fangs, my co ravenous martians! My sugary babies are on it's waaaay!
(Instagram for updates!)

Hungry Rosey

http://twitter.com/#!/hungryrosey
http://instagram.com/crimsonsandcream

From EX To Next Part II

Hi!   Well well.....   We meet again, my co wandering escapists. A part two of the previous, controversial post. Let us not waste one nanosecond, shall we? We have lots of poignant yet enthralling absurdities to discuss! Let us stimulate the ridiculousness within all of us! Let us begin!

The EX. Ex annoyingly itchy back scratch-ing. Ex I-am-going-to-die-from-giggles tickl-ling. Ex knockedout-from-minuscule-amounts-of-alcohol carry-ing. Ex I-ate-the-last-piece-with-a-huge-grin-on-my-whatever-sauce-covered-face-and-I-am-not-so-sorry-about-it convicti-ing. Ex even-people-from-Mars-deciphers-cacophonous-chuckles laugh-ing. Ahh.. Silliness. That's the thing that kept me in the relationship. *fake old man cough* Aside from that L word ofcourse. These memories are refreshing. It tells me why I should still treasure a failed relationship. Failed with quadruple big fat capital F's. But then... Reality bangs me in the head with an attention-grabbing reminder in neon lights that the worst thing out of all of  these is/was losing a best friend.

How did I know I have moved on? *dark, apocalyptic background music cue* Well first and foremost, I was still breathing. Anomalously short and seldom inhales. But enough to keep me alive (ish). Oh believe me, I wouldn't even attempt to glaze a whimsical I-was-fine veneer over the harrowing truth. That's bullcrap. I was a mess, my dear reader. A gigantic horrific, ghastly, widely abominable mess. Ahh just thinking about it pinches a certain segment of my heart. How horrible I felt.. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't talk. Couldn't even think straight! (Well that wasn't knew) All I did was eat and cry. Mostly at the same time, even. What a calamitous combo! That was how I dealt with it for a few months. But then, thankfully, before I began losing myself completely, I started this blog. Then began reading my eyes out. More intensely than before. From gory Scarpetta books to food and art history. Then I started to draw again. I discovered a hidden passion for these things. I was happy again. Just by being me. I realized the simpler things that became part of my animated daily self. Dilatory days were behind me. I was contented. My best friends were a big support. Pushed me to shed some vitamin D into my skin. Pushed me to date even! Ahh.. Now the dating part. Oh my goodness gracious golly  gesundheit gee whiz. How I hated this. Took me awhile.... A definite WHILE. My awkwardness paired with paranoia. A guaranteed disastrous typhoon! I tried it after two creativity rebirth years. It was rejuvenating. Well for one, he wasn't somebody I didn't know. We were actually pretty close even during my one relationship. He was a lil' sneaky then even. Though, any full bloomed love story didn't even get a chance to reach its Once upon a time. I sure did enjoyed it. The simple times. Simple easier times..

Now to be wooed.. To be swept off both my two left feet.. To be carried and flown away to utter bliss.. To be once and forevermore, treated like a queen and his world. *slo mo shampoo commercial-worthy hair flip* That's a different story. Yet to be written I guess? *wink

***to be continued

Now after this post....

Hugs and cookies,

The Hungriest Rosey.

http://twitter.com/#!/hungryrosey

From EX to Next Part I

It's that time again internet. And here you are! So if you would allow me to.... Ever, ever so kindly.. I shall babble a few of your precious minutes away! *No pun intended.

Here I am... Attempting to exude a lil' bit of enthusiasm about this e-e-entry. The trembling, apprehended post. Well.. To be utterly honest. It is quite liberating :) Ah what the hell! Let the grinding begin! Release the Kraken!!! *ginormous PUN definitely intended.

THE EX.. Uh, if you do not have any yet.. Well then! Congratulations!! Go on and continue reading my fortunate, fortunate friend. Hihi... Nah. Unnecessary jokes aside. I am welcoming you with both warm and slightly sweaty arms. *wink. Now where were we? Ahh.. The EX. Ex lover. Ex cuddler. Ex sweat wiper. Ex mind boggler. Ex stress causer. Ex stress lifter. Ex leftover eater. Ex food sharer. Ex makes me say I-hate-my-life-er. Ex makes me shudder and shout with all drools and conviction life-cannot-get-any-more-perfect-now-er. Ex constantly pushes me to do better-er. Ex I-am-corny-as-fuck-now maker. Ex tear jerker. Ex life threatning-fart from laughing giver. Ex perpetually my everything and anything in life-er. Whoever he/she is/was in your life.. The EX. The exed. Or the ex-er.

I have one. But let me tell you... From the roller coaster of emotions this one relationship has graciously bestowed upon me, it felt like I've been with a dozen men. Oh let me correct myself, not even close to a man yet, boys. Through years with this "boy". I have known him even before he had interest in boobs and booze. The single main reason of his existence was an old school analog controller held by both his sticky cheese-covered innocent hands. (Same goes for me btw way. Hihi) We weren't really that close during those dreaded pre adolescent years. But during "the" ever so fickly capricious relationship. I may have played all roles known to man. I have been like a naggy ass mother. A snot filled little spoiled brat desperate for attention. A terror, stoic as stone math tutor. A mysterious, passionate, sucker for romance lover. Different modes of Rosey were needed during these different, confusing times. It's amazing how growth transforms people. Well, I could go on and on and not finish by the time you get bored of me! But I think, my favorite version of myself to him was his loyal, resilient, I-would-catch-a-grenade-for-you-and-hug-it partner in crime. You see.. These different versions of you depend on wherever phase in life you're in. It doesn't mean you are/were a different person. It's just you being human. A human freaking being. My sweet dear friends... This is called.. The unending evolution of the man freaking kind.

More often than said, an EX is usually intertwined with something negative. A word you wouldn't dare mention, thought of even. It is either you end up getting a mandatory plaque of being the heartbreaker or the heartbroken. The culprit or the victim. Kind of sad actually.... *sigh* Why can't it be.. The former heartbeat-er. Or.. Former heartbeating. And beating.. ..and beating.....

***to be continued.

Well, still hungry....

 *wink

http://twitter.com/#!/hungryrosey

*GASP*

NEW POST.  Click. Inhale.  *lungs status: maximum oxygen capacity, a lil' more on the left lung*

Hi. *gasp* hihi.. Guess who's back, internet? Moi!

Okay... This is where things get a little awkard-ish. I guess..

Well....... I actually prepared a tini-tiny speech. Ehem. Here goes my close to unprecedented reputation.

*inhale*

I am filled with overflowing hoarded plans and ideas. Fluorescent lightbulbs that seem to give birth to unintended AND uncalled for brats. Multiplying every flying second. That is in desperate need of action by the way. Major results. ASAP.

My former fire and zeal was put out by  this metaphoric bucket of halts and orange lights. Frustration is squeezing out both the fuel and igniters within me. That flame I have been waiting for for so damn long? The one I have been saving for consumption during "the" race? Where the hell is it? I must say it. And I must blurt it out real quick. *inhale* At this point in my life, I would have wanted myself blazing through life with my chin held up high, shoulders back, a perfectly honed knife on my right hand, a little bruised and burns here and there, and on my scarred left hand, a humble Staedtler pencil. I would have pictured myself, at this hour cuddling with significant other, greasy cheeks to greasier cheeks, feeding him my oh so majestic double chocolate chip cookies. A Rosey surrounded by the people she values most, all smiles and laughs, couldn't imagine life getting any better. Fulfilled. Contented. I am 21 years old now. Yes OLD. I feel old. Mouldy even. I keep thinking like an old woman. Just too old.

This is a warm up post. A short entry to heat up my ever so blurred yet raw thoughts. I wish, whoever you are that's reading this right now, could read beyond these sluggish lines. Feel the feelings I am trying to come across. That maybe, in some distorted way, I could reach you, a person who's trapped too. A silly willy who just can't keep up with her continuously silly-ing self. You are not alone fellow alien. We come in peace. (I think)

 The still..
 Hungry Rosey

  http://twitter.com/#!/hungryrosey

An ABC Away

An easy, lighter post. No fancy-shamncy emotionally perplexing words here. This is just a fun, getting-to-know-myself post. Okay. Here we go!

(A) Age: 7 years of bratty, snot-covered, fat-and-sugar diet years, 12 years of less brattiness, snot-free, yet still immersed in with the same diet, a year of yoyo moods and a combination of everything else. 20 years total. FACT: I am now a lover of nature's rainbow. I have fully come to love the freshness and miracles of nature in its natural state: that is fruits and veggies to you, junk foodies out there. Don't you worry. Those peanutbutter cups shall never be neglected!

(B) Bed Size: Queen Size. With two royalties sleeping on it.

(C) Chore You Hate: Worrying. UGH. Such a chore. It is the worst of them all.

(D) Dogs? I adore them. Wish I could own one. A big dog. A black Labrador! I shall name him Jack.

(E) Essential Start Your Day Item: FOOD. Within 5 minutes or less of waking up.

(F) Favorite Color: Orange. To wear? Black, white and gray. With a pop of color.

(G) Greens? Like what I said, I couldn't get enough of them. For about 6 months now, they've become my best friend. I literally have to have something green in every meal. (That's up to 6-8 meals a day) Though quite frankly, I can never be a vegetarian. The vegan or whatever meat-free diet is just not for me. This girl has to have her meat and cheese. And again, just so we're clear, some junkfood just can't be obsolete. Balance is the key. 70% what your body needs, the other 30% can be what YOU need. Emergency cases are an exception of course. Yes. Those are THE days.

(H) Height: 5' 5"

(I) Instruments You Play: The spatula, baby!

(J) Job Title: An unemployed, struggling culinary artist-artist

(K) Kids? Sure. In about a decade.

(L) Live: A humbly, estrogen-oozing, single-womanly run home. (by my mega mothaa)

(M) Marriage? The beginning of my happily ever after.

(N) Nicknames: Rose, Rosey (there are a handful of people who could pull off calling me Rosey. And when they do, it's one of the sweetest sounds), and Abba (short for TABA-meaning fat in Tagalog. Only a family member calls me this.) Why yes internet. I am innately and perpetually a fatty. But remember, balance, balance, BALANCE

(O) Overnight Hospital Stays? Yes. 2 weeks when I had dengue. I was quite the sickbug. That's why I kept losing weight. Regular colds and flu would last weeks with me. Unfortunately until now, I am 20 years old and I still get sick quite often. My mom says I naturally have a weak body. It's quite upsetting actually. That's why I'm always hungry. (the literal kind) It's my body's way of coping I guess. This is the main reason why I am fully committed to this new leaf. The balance thing is going great so far. Hopefully no more sick days for me. Anyway. Let's go back to these questions, shall we?

(P) Pet Peeve: Liars and assholes. A combination is catastrophic.

(Q) Quote from a Movie: Oh. Couldn't think of one right now. I wouldn't want to simply search for one. Mmmmm. How about from a book instead? "I love you everyday, now all I can do is miss you every day." It's from For One More Day by Mitch Albom. It's imprinted in my head ever since.

(R) Right or Left Handed? Lefty.

(S) Siblings: An older sister. She's a junkfoodie too! A harder one to steer, though. But.... challenge accepted!

(T) Time You Wake Up? Depends. All I know is I get cranky when I sleep less than 8 full hours. Which means I am a pain in the ass on most mornings.

(U) Underwear: How am I supposed to answer this? Uh. Yes? I wear one everyday.

(V) Vegetable You Dislike: I don't dislike any vegetable at all. I have learned to love them. Really. Which is good. And that includes bitter, slimy veggies. They are my pals now. Huraaah huraaaah

(W) What Makes You Laugh: Mmmm. You can't really pin point exact moments of jovial outbursts. All I know is my genuine laughing-my-panties-off, on-the-verge-of-peeing-a-little laughs are simply priceless.

(X) X-tra Large? Softdrinks? No. I have cut that out of my system for about a year now. Rehabilitated and proud of it! But everything else that I truly, truly like has to supersized. Or else I'll end up getting seconds. But yet again, BALANCE

(Y) Yummy Food You Make: EVERYTHING! *taps on the back* Kidding. Well at least I try to. My motto is to cook with all the senses you have. That entails how it will smell, look, taste, and feel on the tongue. The cacophonous sizzles in the pan takes care of the sound. Of course, the laughs around the table shall complete your masterpiece. Cooking with the heart always comes through your food. It's like you are sharing a piece of you for them to take in (literally). They may not remember all the random conversations you've had that day. But the one's who were able to genuinely enjoy the gems of your labor shall have that within them for the rest of their lives. (And yes, even after going to the bathroom)

(Z) Zoo, Favorite Animal: Sharks and Dolphins. Have seen them only once at the Manila Ocean Park. And I fell inlove. They are misunderstood, magical kings of the sea.

This was fun! I'd like to do one purely about food.
TAG! You're it! Comment and try it.
Have a great one, YOU!

https://twitter.com/HungryRosey

(A) Age: (B) Bed Size: (C) Chore You Hate: (D) Dogs? (E) Essential Start Your Day Item: (F) Favorite Color: (G) Greens? (H) Height: (I) Instruments You Play: (J) Job Title: (K) Kids? (L) Live: (M) Marriage? (N) Nicknames: (O) Overnight Hospital Stays? (P) Pet Peeve: (Q) Quote from a Movie (R) Right or Left Handed? (S) Siblings: (T) Time You Wake Up? (U) Underwear: (V) Vegetable You Dislike: (W) What Makes You Laugh? (X) X-tra Large? (Z) Zoo, Favorite Animal:

Breathing... and HUNGRY.

Why hello there, Internet. It's me. Your fist-gripping, annoyingly credulous ghost-like virtual friend.

Do you know that feeling where there are gazillion trillion things, feelings and words you want to release and scream? But when you do open your mouth, nothing comes out. Zilche. It is that untrappable feeling where all you seem to hear are chirping birds and tight held up breaths. So.... Let's just skip all awkward shenanigans and just jump right in to it. Shall we?

I just finished reading ALL my posts. Posts that can be miraculously summed up into two teeth-grinders that happen to both begin with two dreaded A's-- ANGST and ANGER. I panicked. I was apprehensive and chafed. And I will beat you to it by saying that it was verily quite a ride. I can tell you right this weary moment that it is not one of those theme park adrenaline-pumping rides we all line half of an entire day for. It is the overbearingly existing kind, an amateurishly composed script for a rejected movie about a hormonally unstable girl that at the beginning had her heart pulverized into unsightly micro pieces of dust, and then with the fast-pace nature of life, by moving on she realized that in her mischievous subconscious, what she desperately seek for is paternal-love. From there on, a loop-DE-loop of shitholes had emerged. That somehow, in the semi-distorted position she is in now, she has managed to dodge all these and maintain the perpetual state of whatever it is that she is in. (Which is yet to be found out) Confusing, I know.

Well. I guess it is finally safe to say that I am breathing again. Almost full inhales of oxygenous, smoggy and semi-herbaceous air. My nostrils couldn't be more thrilled. Lungs flaring with excitement. Taste buds curious and are refusing to settle for the mundane. People who know me can tell you that I am quite the eater. I was greedy for grease. Too greasy for green. And too green for solemnity. But this appetite has evolved into something different entirely. Though butterfingers, peanut butter cups and cheetos are still occasional, alleviating flings. But what I want now is something bigger, not in quantity but bona fide, unadulterated quality- the world. The world and its entire greatness. The sensations of life without its limits. And I'm ready for that now. I am all set, and well... hungry.

Now I pledge to you my precious, precious reader: I, Hungry Rosey, a self-propagating catalyst to an expedition to true supremely transcending greatness (superlative overload), my cheapo 10-inch knife on one hand, utensils on the other, shall delve, smell, taste, touch and experience the very essence of God's magnum opus-- life.

Let's go! Melodic burps await!

http://twitter.com/#!/hungryrosey

Stronger Than Ever!

Total and utter bliss. *fingers crossed*

I was beyond wrong to doubt it. He does care. Now I'm sure. I love you, Papa.

On a seemingly sour note,

I must repel all negative shenanigans lurking on all corners. All bullshit attacks towards me shall nonetheless, retain its perpetual state, B-U-L-L-C-R-A-P. You know who you are. I feel sorry you and your pathetic attempts on making an ass out of yourself, whatever kind of creature you are. Seriously, who would even have the ability to think of saying such disgustingly fabricated remarks?

I know myself. Quite frankly, I would put the lives of everyone that matters to me on the line and say that I am the type of person who makes sure each and every second of my time that I do good, be the best daughter of God that I can be. The people who loves me knows this too. And that's all that matters.

I hope everyone who'll be able to read this never thinks twice on trusting him/herself. Never let anyone, and I mean any living soul pull you down. Never give them the satisfaction with your falls nor faults, you won't allow it because you'll always, always stand back up- stronger!

I'll take character over reputation. Your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are. -Drake

Cake!!

Maaaan. That was some previous post, wasn't it? I had to catch my breath while I was reading it. Now how the hell did I manage to be both mean and pitied at the same time?

This moment of my existence has got to be written off history. A vastly brutal phase emerging from the grounds of who-knows-what. Who knew an almost twenty-year-old lunatic would have the strength and dexterity to grasp all of these stricken at her with an embossed dignity? To tell you honestly, I had barely wrapped a finger on the situation, Internet. But, I attacked it head on.

Perhaps all of it was too much. Too heavily brought. Too unbearably real.

I wanted to post as much as I possible could. My art. My food. All the things that drives my being. Not just the I-hate-world part. Fighting all hurdles isn't what life's about, my dear Internet. It's what we're fighting for that makes life worth living.

My birthday's coming. Who wants cake?!

To Saint Nicholas of Myra

Dear Santa,

What's up Sir Nicholas? Hope you're not too busy. So according to my contrived delving, you will in no possible terms ignore any white flag that reaches you. Well you see... I have not been and in which case I verily mean never had been a believer, ever. I'm guessing I just always loved Christmas, every snowy-bejeweling sprinkled molecule of it. The tacit awareness set aside. The anticipation for food, gifts and of course, chachiiiing. There is just something in the impending cacophony of squeaky laughs and giggles from little sugar-hyped rascals. Yeah well who else? It is the infamous, ineludible agitated ninjas ermerging during this time of the year, including yours truly. So let us cut to the chase shall we?

Well mister santa sir, I am proud to say that I have been a really really REALLY bewitchingly good lil' girl. Well atleast I try to be. So I'm assuming and truly hoping that I'm in your nice list. HIHIHI I know, I know. I should not be getting above nor ahead of myself. But really now. I have been extremely good my ENTIRE life. (well of course acknowledgements to all drunken and hormonal actions done hihi) This is my first and *fingers crossed* not the last time asking you. So what the blushing nose reindeer! Here goes nothing!!!

by the way, these are clearly 19 years too late. So it better be good. Kidding :)

A box of the best tasting chocolate I could possibly ever EVER devour.
A top of the line knife set (Henckel or Wustoff to be quite specific) bag included
Another box of chocolates haha
Best EARphones made (can't stand headphones ughhhhh) I repeat, please oh please, no big-ass headphones
Two pairs of vans (Men's US 7, Women's 6.5)(gray orange-lined, the other one hmmm surprise me!)
A set of charcoal, graphite pencils and a drawing set
Skylight confessions, Illumination Night and the Third Angel books by Alice Hoffman

And now for the more over reaching gifts,
A 13" Macbook air
A white iPhone 4s or after whatever upgrade Apple has, no surprises, miraculousy whipped up in just a matter of nanoseconds!
Courtside tickets to the impending 2012 NBA finals
A fairy god mother (Cosmo and Wanda would suffice)
My mother's perpetual peace of mind
Papa's health
Adine's career success
World peace
The end of world hunger

A little over 19 things collectively, but hey, my smile is priceless! :)

The End

She's Alive!!!

Yep.. It's official. I am verily the most unstably stable person alive (Why yes Internet, I believe this is yet another paradoxical statement). Sorry to say, but the facts must and shall be blurted out with all hard on conviction. An adamantly embossed label might as well be zapped right in the middle of my forehead saying "Beware: ridiculously too fickle to fiddle".

I can now understand how the perks and chirps inside this head are wound up. Little cracks and twists here and there. Not exactly an impervious labyrinth to get lost in, but actually really quite close. You see.. Any normal human being couldn't truly, even inside different realms tested, would be able to decipher the rather absurd complexities I have. These what may seem to be absurdity now, are the very things that mold me to who I am. It's what makes us who we are, who we'll be.

So instead of isolating myself from this world, even from all its cruelties, I should learn to face it with my head held up, handsfree. Defense mechanism off, no masochistic ammunitions in hand whatsoever. I must slowly peel off the armor I built. Learn to trust and feel. LIVE.


Life is testing me. It's testing my families' capability of surviving this fucked up event. Myself as a daughter, even as one struggling individual. Something this big should have been taken care of a lot sooner, a lot quicker. It had almost devoured all of us completely, unnoticed. I am really scared. I'm afraid I'm not strong enough. Strong enough for the three of us. Help us dear God. Help me for my family. I forgive mama. I cannot even imagine hating her. She's my everything. Cliche as it may sound. But I would die for her, right here, right this second.

I love you, ma. So for now... What's for dinner?