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How to Date An Invertebrate
First, get the definitions over with. An invertebrate is an animal without a backbone. Of all the animals in the world, about more than ninety percent of them are invertebrates. It is general knowledge that humans have spinal columns. Some don't, however.
It is easy to secure an invertebrate. She looks like other vertebrates at first glance. But you will easily see signs of the lack of backbone once she starts talking. She is silent. She looks like she has a problem. You feel compelled to ask her what's wrong. She shakes her head and forces a smile. You proceed with your life. You look at her again and it's the same expression. You get worried. She looks at you, then looks away. Your conscience bothers you. You buy her a drink. She smiles.
Let her tell you her name. Allow yourself to listen to her stories: about how she feels alone, how nobody understands her, how stressed she is, how her head's been aching for the last few days. You don't want her to cry, so you put your arm around her. She will say she's okay, she will thank you for being there. She will text you good night before you sleep. There will be a smiley face. You will feel better about making her feel better.
Buy her lunch. Ask her what she wants. She will tell you, Whatever you want. You will feel selfish for deciding for her, so you ask her again what she wants. She throws the question back at you. Finally, you decide on beef steak. She will shake her head and say, Can I have chicken? You will oblige. You will buy chicken for both of you. She will never bring out her wallet. You will never ask. It never becomes an issue. You will eat lunch together for the next few weeks.
She will tell you how irritated she is in this one class. Her professor did not explain the lesson well. Try to understand where she is coming from. Look at your watch. It's only twelve-thirty in the morning. And it's just a long exam. It can wait. She needs you. In between her sobs, she asks you how you are. You tell her you have an exam tomorrow. She remembers something she forgot to tell you. You cannot put down the phone. She will tell you you are the only one who understands. You wonder if she has any other friends.
You will wake up to your phone vibrating, she is calling. She is angry. You didn't say good night. She got worried. She was studying last night. You were supposed to stay up with her. You were her moral support. She will begin to question your sincerity. She will doubt the weight of your promises. If you cannot even stay true to your word of saying good night, how will she believe you really care? You blame your pillow. But you fall asleep again anyway.
She will demand for your time. Your breaks will be spent with her. She needs you to hold her hand and tell her things will be okay. In the hallway, you see a friend. You ask him how he and Anne are doing. He smiles. We're doing great, he says. Anne is in class. They'll see each other later that week after their exams. You wonder why Anne doesn't ask him to fetch her in class. He is not needed, you conclude. You smile. Then you realize you still have that exam. You look at your watch. She comes out of the restroom. You give her back her bag. She raises her eyebrow and asks you, Can't you be a gentleman for me? She walks ahead of you. She makes you feel needed.
Your friends text you about a party. You want to go. Before you even ask permission, you notice a new update from her on a social networking site. It's a lyric about feeling ignored and unappreciated. You ask her what's wrong. She feels alright. You tell her about the party. She does not reply. Your friends start calling. You decide to go. Five hours later, you check on the thread. She will be musing about how men never understand and that they never know when to put their girlfriend's feelings first. All her friends agree with her. You will feel inadequate.
Hold her hand. Carry her things. Buy her food. Give her medicine. Understand her mood swings. Let her take the lead. Tell her everything you're doing. Do not leave her out of the conversation. Do what she says. Follow her when she walks out. Don't point out her mistakes. See beyond her insecurities. Praise her. Let her know you are there. Forget her irrationality. She makes you feel needed. She makes you feel like a man. She needs taking care of. She is fragile. She is special.
You wouldn't even consider dating a vertebrate. Doing so would mean not being required to see each other when you two are loaded with academic works. A vertebrate will let you spend time with your friends without her feeling insecure. You wouldn't want your phone not ringing with "Where are you?" and "Who are you with?" texts. You would definitely hate the opportunity to choose your own lunch for yourself. Your back would miss the weight of her girly-colored bag. Vertebrates are independent; they do not allow their lives to revolve around you. Why would you want that?
An invertebrate will divide her days in two ways: Time with you, time not with you. The latter part will be spent in agony, despair and confusion. She will make you question your priorities. Why would you choose a measly homework when she is feeling down and alone? She will take it against you when she says I'm okay, and you believe her and don't read between her sighs indicating that she really isn't. She will demand you to call her again after she hangs up on you. Twice. She will let you bring her home everyday. She will be incapable of going home without you. In fact, she will be incapable of anything without you. There is no other world existing without the two of you in it. She will find it difficult to decide, to choose, to make a point without you in mind. She will need you. She will hurt you, but you will believe she didn't mean to. She only just wants to feel that you care.
You feel what you have is special; this is truly what you want, and consequently this is truly what you need. You will open your Biology book. You will see the different kingdoms of the animal world. You will study about symbiotic relationships. You will read about parasitism, and how usually they are done by worms, bacteria, and insects. They are all invertebrates.
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This is something I just randomly felt like doing in response to this article about dating illiterate girls. If a girl cares more about you not saying good night than your exhaustion over the amount of school work you had to do (that she never asked about), I think that's saying several things: (1) She clearly has time on her hands to wait for you, (2) She doesn't spend this time reading a book, or anything else equally productive, and (3) Your friends are already secretly judging her (HAHA KIDDING! Sort of. Maybe.) Labels: creative nonfiction, fiction, I cannot really decide which is which right now
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How to Date An Invertebrate
First, get the definitions over with. An invertebrate is an animal without a backbone. Of all the animals in the world, about more than ninety percent of them are invertebrates. It is general knowledge that humans have spinal columns. Some don't, however.
It is easy to secure an invertebrate. She looks like other vertebrates at first glance. But you will easily see signs of the lack of backbone once she starts talking. She is silent. She looks like she has a problem. You feel compelled to ask her what's wrong. She shakes her head and forces a smile. You proceed with your life. You look at her again and it's the same expression. You get worried. She looks at you, then looks away. Your conscience bothers you. You buy her a drink. She smiles.
Let her tell you her name. Allow yourself to listen to her stories: about how she feels alone, how nobody understands her, how stressed she is, how her head's been aching for the last few days. You don't want her to cry, so you put your arm around her. She will say she's okay, she will thank you for being there. She will text you good night before you sleep. There will be a smiley face. You will feel better about making her feel better.
Buy her lunch. Ask her what she wants. She will tell you, Whatever you want. You will feel selfish for deciding for her, so you ask her again what she wants. She throws the question back at you. Finally, you decide on beef steak. She will shake her head and say, Can I have chicken? You will oblige. You will buy chicken for both of you. She will never bring out her wallet. You will never ask. It never becomes an issue. You will eat lunch together for the next few weeks.
She will tell you how irritated she is in this one class. Her professor did not explain the lesson well. Try to understand where she is coming from. Look at your watch. It's only twelve-thirty in the morning. And it's just a long exam. It can wait. She needs you. In between her sobs, she asks you how you are. You tell her you have an exam tomorrow. She remembers something she forgot to tell you. You cannot put down the phone. She will tell you you are the only one who understands. You wonder if she has any other friends.
You will wake up to your phone vibrating, she is calling. She is angry. You didn't say good night. She got worried. She was studying last night. You were supposed to stay up with her. You were her moral support. She will begin to question your sincerity. She will doubt the weight of your promises. If you cannot even stay true to your word of saying good night, how will she believe you really care? You blame your pillow. But you fall asleep again anyway.
She will demand for your time. Your breaks will be spent with her. She needs you to hold her hand and tell her things will be okay. In the hallway, you see a friend. You ask him how he and Anne are doing. He smiles. We're doing great, he says. Anne is in class. They'll see each other later that week after their exams. You wonder why Anne doesn't ask him to fetch her in class. He is not needed, you conclude. You smile. Then you realize you still have that exam. You look at your watch. She comes out of the restroom. You give her back her bag. She raises her eyebrow and asks you, Can't you be a gentleman for me? She walks ahead of you. She makes you feel needed.
Your friends text you about a party. You want to go. Before you even ask permission, you notice a new update from her on a social networking site. It's a lyric about feeling ignored and unappreciated. You ask her what's wrong. She feels alright. You tell her about the party. She does not reply. Your friends start calling. You decide to go. Five hours later, you check on the thread. She will be musing about how men never understand and that they never know when to put their girlfriend's feelings first. All her friends agree with her. You will feel inadequate.
Hold her hand. Carry her things. Buy her food. Give her medicine. Understand her mood swings. Let her take the lead. Tell her everything you're doing. Do not leave her out of the conversation. Do what she says. Follow her when she walks out. Don't point out her mistakes. See beyond her insecurities. Praise her. Let her know you are there. Forget her irrationality. She makes you feel needed. She makes you feel like a man. She needs taking care of. She is fragile. She is special.
You wouldn't even consider dating a vertebrate. Doing so would mean not being required to see each other when you two are loaded with academic works. A vertebrate will let you spend time with your friends without her feeling insecure. You wouldn't want your phone not ringing with "Where are you?" and "Who are you with?" texts. You would definitely hate the opportunity to choose your own lunch for yourself. Your back would miss the weight of her girly-colored bag. Vertebrates are independent; they do not allow their lives to revolve around you. Why would you want that?
An invertebrate will divide her days in two ways: Time with you, time not with you. The latter part will be spent in agony, despair and confusion. She will make you question your priorities. Why would you choose a measly homework when she is feeling down and alone? She will take it against you when she says I'm okay, and you believe her and don't read between her sighs indicating that she really isn't. She will demand you to call her again after she hangs up on you. Twice. She will let you bring her home everyday. She will be incapable of going home without you. In fact, she will be incapable of anything without you. There is no other world existing without the two of you in it. She will find it difficult to decide, to choose, to make a point without you in mind. She will need you. She will hurt you, but you will believe she didn't mean to. She only just wants to feel that you care.
You feel what you have is special; this is truly what you want, and consequently this is truly what you need. You will open your Biology book. You will see the different kingdoms of the animal world. You will study about symbiotic relationships. You will read about parasitism, and how usually they are done by worms, bacteria, and insects. They are all invertebrates.
--
This is something I just randomly felt like doing in response to this article about dating illiterate girls. If a girl cares more about you not saying good night than your exhaustion over the amount of school work you had to do (that she never asked about), I think that's saying several things: (1) She clearly has time on her hands to wait for you, (2) She doesn't spend this time reading a book, or anything else equally productive, and (3) Your friends are already secretly judging her (HAHA KIDDING! Sort of. Maybe.) Labels: creative nonfiction, fiction, I cannot really decide which is which right now
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She's a modern lover; it's an exploration, she's made of outer space
Hello, I'm Karla Bernardo. If you Google my name, you will find the Wikipedia entry of a Canadian serial-killer (and trust me, you do not want
to read about that - but I'm sure you will because now you're curious), which is why I suggest you type Bombastarr instead so you can stalk me better.
I spent eight-and-a-half years of my life in the University of the Philippines, where I graduated with degrees in Creative Writing and Juris Doctor. It is also where I learned how to speak a bit of Italian, got a taste of the best tapsilog, and took striptease for PE.
I love telling stories, as much as I enjoy finding them.
____Want more?
Featured Works
Stargirl ( Cover story for Nadine Lustre, Scout, January-February 2017)
Surreal / So Real (at Scout)
Ode to a Great Love's 17-year-old Self ( Love.Life, Philippine Daily Inquirer)
Postcard from Diliman
( Youngblood, Philippine Daily Inquirer)
Writer for Philippine Law Register
A Call to Arms (January 2017)
Expecting the Expected (March 2016)
Former Writer for Stache Magazine
The Hero's Journey (June 2013)
The 8 People You Become In Your Youth (June 2013)
The Best Bad Idea That Is Argo (April 2013)
Mike Ross Remembers Everything You Don't (August 2012)
Style Between the Riffs (August 2012)
Book Lovers Never Sleep Alone (June 2012)
A Spectrum of Change (December 2011)
Digital Art (October 2011)
Elements of Style (June 2011)
In Her White Dress (All-Art April 2011 issue)
Morning After Pill ( Fervore: Literary Folio 2013, UP Portia Sorority)
How To Make a Blueberry Cheesecake ( Kalas: Kalasag Literary Folio 2011, UP College of Arts and Letters)
January 14th ( 100: The Hundreds Project, UP Writer's Club)
An Ode to The
Pillow Book (at New-Slang)
Introductions (at TeenInk)
One by One (at TeenInk)
Ask, and you shall be answered
Got a comment, question, violent reaction, love letter, or random piece of information you want to share with me? Just fire away. I don't bite.
(I changed my form and went back to Freedback because Ask.fm's being a bitch, requiring people to sign up for accounts before asking questions. Because I love you guys, I tweaked my ask box a bit, so that the questions will now go directly to my e-mail, but I'll be posting the answers still on my Ask.fm for convenience. TL;DR - I'll still be getting your questions so no worries. You're still free to harass me / send me your love.)
Answers
Most Frequently Asked QuestionAre you a pornstar?No, I am not a pornstar, stripper, or your friendly neighborhood call girl. It's just a fancy pseudonym with a long history, and two R's. Rawr.
Bombastarr.com
Bombastarr is my personal blog and my little corner in the Internet since 2005. Yes, I started writing here when I was 13 years old (aka when I was very angsty, hormonal, and always gushing at the littlest things) -- ergo, you'd have to forgive me if you come across an old post that reeks of immaturity and slightly unpolished grammar. I did a lot of growing up here, and from the looks of it, there's still a lot of growing up to do, so I don't think I'll be leaving this place any time soon.
The domain, Bombastarr.com, was purchased on June 2014 and
launched on July 2014, on the blog's ninth year (and fifth month, to be exact).
It's crazy to think that this blog is now thirteen years old, because (1) that seems like an eternity in internet years, and (2) that means if my blog were a kid, it's a teenager! That's insane.
Here's to more tales, explosive and otherwise.
So, why Bombastarr?
If you've been living under a rock and think I'm a threat to world peace or an object of covetousness, sorry to disappoint you, folks: it's just a fancy pseudonym.
As in most things, it started in high school. It began as a joke between me and a couple of friends during our freshman year. We were practicing for a field demonstration dance which involved the use of shawls, and being the crazy-always-trying-to-be-funny person that I was (or I always attempted to be) I started doing poses with the garment. Someone started taking my picture using my phone, and one shot looked like I was posing for those B-list movies (or should it be R-list, as in R-rated?) of the vegetable-nomenclature variety. #IKYWIM. Hence, the word, "Bombastarr." Yes, very cheeky, I know, but for a 13-year-old, it was quirky enough to figure as a username. That was 2005, right around the time I trying to decide on a URL for a new blog. It's been a lot of years since, and what started as a joke became something I've eventually embraced as an identity.
Despite the many other chances I've gotten to permanently move (to Multiply, Livejournal, Tumblr, Wordpress; to a bigger platform where I can earn or use the blog as a venue for commerce), I've come to realize that Bombastarr is something I can never truly leave behind. It is a place I've grown to appreciate and love because it is a place I can call my own. It's a venue for my rants, my views, my writing. It is home, and it is who I am.
Bombastarr is a glimpse of my life: the thoughts, ideas, and stories that shape it into what it is, and what it will still become. This journal has been with me for all my crazy, often embarrassing adventures, but I'm sure there will be more anecdotes and feelings and people to write about. Which is something I'm really looking forward to. After all, you know what they say about the greatest stories - sometimes, there's still a lot that's left unwritten.
Credits and thank you's
This blog is hosted by PhilHosting.net, and powered by Blogger. The layout is coded entirely by me.
Photo hosting: TinyPic, Photobucket
Question box: EmailMeForm, Ask.fm
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