The Fifth Summer.
About last week or so, Arisa, one of this year's new tutors of LnK, was asking me to stay around one more year. After all, it'll be LnK's 25th anniv come 2006, and it'd be my sixth consecutive year there should I stick around. That'd be an unprecedented feat, considering how many of us leave within their first three years, and how most of them leave because they never get "elected into execom", or worse, that "their friends left na rin". And I know what that feels like :D.
As tempting as Arisa's offer stands, I look to the future. The last of my peers who stuck around, Angel, shall soon step down as Chair by the end of the year. Migs Balma, Chreesy, Honeypie, Tara and Perry are all stepping up to the plate to lead. The new Claret boys gang are all growing into legitimate kuyas for the kids. The new Miriam contingent is as strong as ever, and with Issa's kid brother Migs recruiting, there's also a whole lot more people from the PAREF system teaching.
And where will I be, if I stay? I belong to no 'faction', nor will my leadership be greatly missed for there are others. There are also more than enough able bodies to fill out classes by next summer. (unless something goes terribly wrong).
So sige. Tomorrow, barring any strange events come next summer, shall be my very, very, VERY last day of LnK. Especially since Jess comes first, and that I can't make my last Tutors' Outing on Saturday. :(
Tomorrow, there will be no fanfare, no "Lifetime Achievement Awards" jokes, no lights nor magic, no teary eyes. It'd be a graduation of my last 9 kids (arguably the ones I've taken the best care of ever), a short party for the grad, and tutors' night. And when it's over, bahala na. I may still help out teach the UPCAT reviews, but that'd be it. After that, well... fate and Jess will decide.
[Oddly enough, there is word that tomorrow somebody from the Philippine Star will be on hand to cover their graduation. Hehe. Funny how there's this sudden interest in our group now that many of my friends, peers, and well, me are all on their way out.]
It's been a good run. If anything, the greatest achievement this summer is that all 9 of my kids have recieved full scholarship benefits for their final schoolyear in high school. Proud ako. ΓΌ
Never no mind that they shan't elect me into execom next summer. I'd be nice, but if they don't, then I'd have no reason to stay anymore. Ate JenTan always said that we come back year by year, because, in light of the big picture, the kids need us. But now, I realize maybe it won't necessarily be me that they'll be needing anytime soon.
I'll miss it dearly. It was the place where dreams came true (some, literally!). I've met more friends there in the past five summers than I ever have in my entire time in high school and college, and a lot of the closest confidants I keep are found there.
I'll miss waking up early to make it in time for class. I'll miss staying up late to write out exams for the kids. I'll miss the tambay times in friends' houses, or the massive impromptu parties at my pad. I'll miss having to defend my committment to tutor the kids before my parents. I'll miss the lunches out, the movies watched together, the birthdays in Mang Jimmy's and the debuts in posh places here and there. And most of all, I'll miss the quiet knowing that what I do, somehow, adds up to the future of somebody other than myself, somebody I probably may never see again, but somebody whose life, hopefully, I'd have made better.
If I wasn't part of LnK, maybe (or most certainly) I'd never have been a Dayzer, I'd never have the heart to shift out, or that I'd lead summers like many of those rich kids wasting money on the beach or long-distance trips abroad. And that's precisely what I'm trained not to do: waste money, not in how my family's been doing this far. And besides, A-Days keeps me busy too, among other things. And while I serve one master in both pursuits, somehow, it's as though He wants me to pick one way to serve Him. And somehow, LnK ain't it anymore.
Hence, my departure. With my kid sister and younger brother still doing the college thing, I have to get a job when I'm out of school. (haha. sounds like a prison story.) And I realize I'm not wont to do the Law School/MBA/Masters/Med School thing, since that's exactly what I shouldn't be doing: I need to find work, dammit!
I need to either find marketable skills, or actually do something "worthwhile" that can help me get them skills. I have to leave the chalk, red ink and eraser behind, and look for something else that can give me something to wake up for.
I have to go, when I personally feel I'm not ready to leave yet. Not yet.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
current music: Prayer Cycle - Hope
I've been thinking about doing something like this for a while now. Let's just see where it takes us. I consider this the message I'd write to be placed inside the very last bottle on this metaphorical deserted island. May it find the person it seeks.
OPEN LETTER TO ONE I DO NOT WISH TO EMBARRASS BY NAMING
Hi. We haven't talked in years, you and me. I know it's odd that you're reading this now. I find it unsual myself, considering that the last letter I wrote you served to drive us apart. But that's old stuff now. I'm certain much has changed in your side of the globe.
Me? I guess I'm okay. I'm positive you haven't heard about me in a long while. Friendster was enough to prove you had forgotten me. And yet, in a skewed, strange way, I'm glad you have. You see, I always thought that I should disappear from people's lives for long periods of time. Then, after I'd have gone through changes (like, become more outgoing, or lose weight), I'd find you again. And I'd see how people like you would find it all. How I got to start anew, how I got myself on the right foot.
Strangely enough, I'm the leopard who couldn't shed any of his spots. I still write poems when I'm lost. I still keep other people's secrets and worry about them silly. I still like reminding people that I'm around. I still wish I could let people understand what it'd be like if I weren't around.
I still think of you. After all these years.
I still think of you when I see starry nights, remembering how your eyes looked like, without your glasses. I still think of you when I see people dancing arm in arm. I still think of you when I see angels, and how you told me they meant something to you. I still think of you when I write poetry, and of the talks we've had about the topic. I still think of you when I hear stories about people who physically hurt themselves because they felt so lost and frustrated. I still think of you when I'm lost myself, and how your presence over a phone line kept me going fine.
I think of you when I see toenails painted red, like the night I told you how much I liked your shoes. You told me then that it wasn't new. But I wasn't really looking at your feet. I was just doing my best not to stare at your face that night, lest I be rude. And it wasn't easy mind you; you looked quite beautiful.
You haven't heard a peep from me about it, and yes, it's better that way. Last time we talked, you told me there was this man in your life, and that he was jealous as hell over guys like me who called. Fine. I decided to let whatever emotional attachment you held on me go. Like the poem goes "if little by little, you forget me, I shall forget you, little by little".
And yet somehow, I've not forgotten you. I can't forget you. Not you. After all, it's not easy wiping someone's tears and forget you were there when they wept? Or that maybe, just maybe, you knew what to do to stop them from crying, but you couldn't, and never forgive yourself for years to come?
Years passed and somehow, news about you still arrived. About how you were doing in school, or how you were so involved in dance and stuff. It was odd, hearing them. I thought I had moved on and was slowly making better. But truth be told, I also missed you. And it hurt knowing that when I started having feelings, we had to live separate lives.
For the most part, it's alright. But in my quiet moments in prayer, in thought, in meditation... thoughts still return to my past, which includes you and others I fail to be there for. Each time, I cannot do much but lift hands heavenward, for the hands can do little else than pray. And it isn't a good feeling.
I do not know why I'm compelled to write this. All I know is that somehow, we disappeared from each others' lives. I do not regret liking you, even if all the signs show me that you never did nor would feel the same way. I do not regret listening to your problems on the phone. I do not regret walking away from that evening an angel less and a few tears on my coat more.
All I know is that as I write this, I try to cast your memory away. For I know that I can't fully love others until I do.
I fervently hope that you're happy, wherever you may be. And if I find you again, please don't take it against me that I act like I've forgotten you. I'd prefer the anonymity, honestly, just as I'd expect you not to respond should I call out your name out of the blue some odd place else.
Goodbye and God bless,
Raphael
I've been thinking about doing something like this for a while now. Let's just see where it takes us. I consider this the message I'd write to be placed inside the very last bottle on this metaphorical deserted island. May it find the person it seeks.
OPEN LETTER TO ONE I DO NOT WISH TO EMBARRASS BY NAMING
Hi. We haven't talked in years, you and me. I know it's odd that you're reading this now. I find it unsual myself, considering that the last letter I wrote you served to drive us apart. But that's old stuff now. I'm certain much has changed in your side of the globe.
Me? I guess I'm okay. I'm positive you haven't heard about me in a long while. Friendster was enough to prove you had forgotten me. And yet, in a skewed, strange way, I'm glad you have. You see, I always thought that I should disappear from people's lives for long periods of time. Then, after I'd have gone through changes (like, become more outgoing, or lose weight), I'd find you again. And I'd see how people like you would find it all. How I got to start anew, how I got myself on the right foot.
Strangely enough, I'm the leopard who couldn't shed any of his spots. I still write poems when I'm lost. I still keep other people's secrets and worry about them silly. I still like reminding people that I'm around. I still wish I could let people understand what it'd be like if I weren't around.
I still think of you. After all these years.
I still think of you when I see starry nights, remembering how your eyes looked like, without your glasses. I still think of you when I see people dancing arm in arm. I still think of you when I see angels, and how you told me they meant something to you. I still think of you when I write poetry, and of the talks we've had about the topic. I still think of you when I hear stories about people who physically hurt themselves because they felt so lost and frustrated. I still think of you when I'm lost myself, and how your presence over a phone line kept me going fine.
I think of you when I see toenails painted red, like the night I told you how much I liked your shoes. You told me then that it wasn't new. But I wasn't really looking at your feet. I was just doing my best not to stare at your face that night, lest I be rude. And it wasn't easy mind you; you looked quite beautiful.
You haven't heard a peep from me about it, and yes, it's better that way. Last time we talked, you told me there was this man in your life, and that he was jealous as hell over guys like me who called. Fine. I decided to let whatever emotional attachment you held on me go. Like the poem goes "if little by little, you forget me, I shall forget you, little by little".
And yet somehow, I've not forgotten you. I can't forget you. Not you. After all, it's not easy wiping someone's tears and forget you were there when they wept? Or that maybe, just maybe, you knew what to do to stop them from crying, but you couldn't, and never forgive yourself for years to come?
Years passed and somehow, news about you still arrived. About how you were doing in school, or how you were so involved in dance and stuff. It was odd, hearing them. I thought I had moved on and was slowly making better. But truth be told, I also missed you. And it hurt knowing that when I started having feelings, we had to live separate lives.
For the most part, it's alright. But in my quiet moments in prayer, in thought, in meditation... thoughts still return to my past, which includes you and others I fail to be there for. Each time, I cannot do much but lift hands heavenward, for the hands can do little else than pray. And it isn't a good feeling.
I do not know why I'm compelled to write this. All I know is that somehow, we disappeared from each others' lives. I do not regret liking you, even if all the signs show me that you never did nor would feel the same way. I do not regret listening to your problems on the phone. I do not regret walking away from that evening an angel less and a few tears on my coat more.
All I know is that as I write this, I try to cast your memory away. For I know that I can't fully love others until I do.
I fervently hope that you're happy, wherever you may be. And if I find you again, please don't take it against me that I act like I've forgotten you. I'd prefer the anonymity, honestly, just as I'd expect you not to respond should I call out your name out of the blue some odd place else.
Goodbye and God bless,
Raphael
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Spent the whole day with LnK. Haha. I haven't done that ALL SUMMER. And it's so nice.
830 featured my class taking up sentence patterns and getting their midterms back. Which, I'm happy to say, that they learned real quick. Yey. :)
Late morning, I spent my free cut from PolSci with Michiko. She wasn't feeling too good at the start of her day, for reasons I shall not discuss. But I'm in the "cheering-up business" (as always!) and I did what I do best: buy depressed people coffee. :) We stole away from Della five minutes before Math class, I treated her to frap light with my newly-discovered Starbucks gift certificates. Lovely morning of coffee and talk. Always nice. So yes, naka-pagbond din kami ni Mich at long last this summer. And not a day too later either, as she's leaving tomorrow for America. Talked about all sorts of things, and we even got back to Della just in time for class to end.
A safe and happy trip we hope for the 'Soriano Sorority'. hehe. Lunch out was at Shakey's, their treat, making the despidida official. My god. Those two came prepared; they sent waves upon waves of pizza to over 30 LnK tutors. Aakalain mong pinapataba nila kami, hahainin, at babaunin kami papuntang 'tate. Normally, recent LnK tradition has that in Shakey's, host pays for food, you pay your drink. Mich and Migi spared us drinks! Five bucks per head lang for drink. Hehe. Ambait. In turn, I donated fifty bucks, just to help things along (and since some of us left early at the time).
I'm not complaining. Food was good, and I hadn't eaten this much in a three months! :) but unfortunately, i feel something like blood throb on my right shoulder (parang may pumipitik). yes, regret has reared its head. tsk. looks like i've got to do an extra day of working out lined up.
[Somebody remind me to ask VJ for the "incriminatingly stupid" pictures of Perry modelling an MC pep squad jacket in Shakey's. What fun. :)]
After saying goodbyes to the Sorianos, we went for billiards. I had to drive, drop them off at FBR, and park in Ateneo, as my kid brother was supposed to use the car. I park, and he texts that he'd take the jeep instead. Nge.
I take a trike to FBR, and game on na 'to! Paeng and I played two of the ugliest rounds of pool. BOTH of us just sucked on the day. :p (you can ask him. hehe.) Played some more until it was time to fetch Chimoms from UP Orientation.
All in all, a good day, except that yumaman ang mga "watch-your-car" boys at trike drivers sa akin. Haha.Now, I'm financially falling apart.
I wonder if I can still cook for LnK Parent's night?
ah, di bale. PolSci Long Test first.
830 featured my class taking up sentence patterns and getting their midterms back. Which, I'm happy to say, that they learned real quick. Yey. :)
Late morning, I spent my free cut from PolSci with Michiko. She wasn't feeling too good at the start of her day, for reasons I shall not discuss. But I'm in the "cheering-up business" (as always!) and I did what I do best: buy depressed people coffee. :) We stole away from Della five minutes before Math class, I treated her to frap light with my newly-discovered Starbucks gift certificates. Lovely morning of coffee and talk. Always nice. So yes, naka-pagbond din kami ni Mich at long last this summer. And not a day too later either, as she's leaving tomorrow for America. Talked about all sorts of things, and we even got back to Della just in time for class to end.
A safe and happy trip we hope for the 'Soriano Sorority'. hehe. Lunch out was at Shakey's, their treat, making the despidida official. My god. Those two came prepared; they sent waves upon waves of pizza to over 30 LnK tutors. Aakalain mong pinapataba nila kami, hahainin, at babaunin kami papuntang 'tate. Normally, recent LnK tradition has that in Shakey's, host pays for food, you pay your drink. Mich and Migi spared us drinks! Five bucks per head lang for drink. Hehe. Ambait. In turn, I donated fifty bucks, just to help things along (and since some of us left early at the time).
I'm not complaining. Food was good, and I hadn't eaten this much in a three months! :) but unfortunately, i feel something like blood throb on my right shoulder (parang may pumipitik). yes, regret has reared its head. tsk. looks like i've got to do an extra day of working out lined up.
[Somebody remind me to ask VJ for the "incriminatingly stupid" pictures of Perry modelling an MC pep squad jacket in Shakey's. What fun. :)]
After saying goodbyes to the Sorianos, we went for billiards. I had to drive, drop them off at FBR, and park in Ateneo, as my kid brother was supposed to use the car. I park, and he texts that he'd take the jeep instead. Nge.
I take a trike to FBR, and game on na 'to! Paeng and I played two of the ugliest rounds of pool. BOTH of us just sucked on the day. :p (you can ask him. hehe.) Played some more until it was time to fetch Chimoms from UP Orientation.
All in all, a good day, except that yumaman ang mga "watch-your-car" boys at trike drivers sa akin. Haha.Now, I'm financially falling apart.
I wonder if I can still cook for LnK Parent's night?
ah, di bale. PolSci Long Test first.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Current music: My Mistakes - 112
Hango sa isang kuwentong nabasa ko sa isang magasin. Hindi ko na sasabihin kung sino nagsulat nung nabasa ko.
Dissection
Raph Doval-Santos
The body's limbs
are spread on the plate.
Science students stare, fumble,
some know not what they do.
Pins are pushed like nails
on fins and places
where wrists would be
for people.
Later, they will lance its side
with a probe to flush away
fluids and blood.
A label placed near its head reads:
"Here is the cochlea. It allows
the frog to croak."
The teacher shows
his handiwork as an example for others.
He heads to the sink to wash his hands.
"Start at the sides and make a cross -
shaped incision on the chest,
and cut until you reach
the heart."
The pupils have hands
that shake scalpel and scissors.
They beg for the final hour when
the frog stops twitching like their hands.
Others sniff back
the formaldehyde's scent,
water leaking from the eye ducts.
Hango sa isang kuwentong nabasa ko sa isang magasin. Hindi ko na sasabihin kung sino nagsulat nung nabasa ko.
Dissection
Raph Doval-Santos
The body's limbs
are spread on the plate.
Science students stare, fumble,
some know not what they do.
Pins are pushed like nails
on fins and places
where wrists would be
for people.
Later, they will lance its side
with a probe to flush away
fluids and blood.
A label placed near its head reads:
"Here is the cochlea. It allows
the frog to croak."
The teacher shows
his handiwork as an example for others.
He heads to the sink to wash his hands.
"Start at the sides and make a cross -
shaped incision on the chest,
and cut until you reach
the heart."
The pupils have hands
that shake scalpel and scissors.
They beg for the final hour when
the frog stops twitching like their hands.
Others sniff back
the formaldehyde's scent,
water leaking from the eye ducts.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
current music: Banquet - Bloc Party
Later today, I'm driving Chimoms to UP for her faculty consultation. I'm also going to hand Perry and the others the LnK Logbook, meet up with Jemjem for a game of pool, and pick up Chimoms and kid brother to drive them home. Any further errands aren't noted here, as they can appear at any time.
Tomorrow, I'm giving a Creative Writing workshop to high school kids for LnK. Wow. I'm excited. :) Yun nga lang, cut ng classes yun. 2nd cut of summer... sigh.
Saturday features another A-Days _eval. Asteeg. I miss the people already.
Tuesday features me having to prepare a costume for TnT 2nd interview (jack-in-the-box na to!) and my 2nd PolSci Long Exam. Must maintain winning streak.
Must remember to get amp_writes band profiles by May 6. Sana pwede kong gawin siya sooner.
No rest, no rest, no rest. Not good for high-blood pressure.
One thing at a time, one thing at a time...
------------
Workshop... hmm. Since my genre is poetry, and it is a dying artform, I'd likely have them read it and try writing it. Yes, I know some of them have different artistic inclinations. I understand. But I'm positive that reading poems can help enrich their thinking. Besides, the workshop's only from 8AM to 12NN, with a thirty-minute break. Pipigain ko na 'tong oras.
Tara only asked me this morning, so I couldn't "assign" them to write stuff to crit. Crap. 'Di bale, I'll just have them do writing exercises a-la Lighthouse sessions.
Am also considering showing them "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer as an example of BAD POETRY, just like Sir Krip did. Hehehe. Yes, I know Krip's not exactly the best teacher, but I wholeheartedly agree that "Trees" is darned overrated.
Since they're high school, they're not likely to have read stuff. hmm... Know what? I'd love to whip out poetry for the kids to read. Here's a list of stuff I'd like to show them this far. Filipino poets get priority. Suggestions of stuff would rock.
1.) Patawad - Mikael Co
2.) Kursilyo - Hazel Caasi
3.) Icarus Christ - Eman Lacaba
4.) The First to Love - Simeon Dumdum Jr.
5.) Double Takes - Naya Valdelleon
and one more Tagalog poem. Probably "Bakit Minamadali" by Javier Bengzon, or something by Kapi. Anyway.
Also considering bringing my "all-star selections" of Neruda, Angelou, and other foreigners.
1.) Tonight I Can Write - Pablo Neruda
2.) One Art - Elizabeth Bishop
3.) Introduction to Poetry - Billy Collins
4.) The Road Not Taken - Robert Frost
5.) The Red Wheelbarrow - William Carlos Williams
Writing Exercises... Since they're kids, I'd want them to feel encouraged. So...
1.) First thoughts
2.) Rengga
3.) Photos & Memory
4.) Unforgettable moment
5.) Translation
Am at a loss, as some other exercises aren't always too applicable.
Later today, I'm driving Chimoms to UP for her faculty consultation. I'm also going to hand Perry and the others the LnK Logbook, meet up with Jemjem for a game of pool, and pick up Chimoms and kid brother to drive them home. Any further errands aren't noted here, as they can appear at any time.
Tomorrow, I'm giving a Creative Writing workshop to high school kids for LnK. Wow. I'm excited. :) Yun nga lang, cut ng classes yun. 2nd cut of summer... sigh.
Saturday features another A-Days _eval. Asteeg. I miss the people already.
Tuesday features me having to prepare a costume for TnT 2nd interview (jack-in-the-box na to!) and my 2nd PolSci Long Exam. Must maintain winning streak.
Must remember to get amp_writes band profiles by May 6. Sana pwede kong gawin siya sooner.
No rest, no rest, no rest. Not good for high-blood pressure.
One thing at a time, one thing at a time...
------------
Workshop... hmm. Since my genre is poetry, and it is a dying artform, I'd likely have them read it and try writing it. Yes, I know some of them have different artistic inclinations. I understand. But I'm positive that reading poems can help enrich their thinking. Besides, the workshop's only from 8AM to 12NN, with a thirty-minute break. Pipigain ko na 'tong oras.
Tara only asked me this morning, so I couldn't "assign" them to write stuff to crit. Crap. 'Di bale, I'll just have them do writing exercises a-la Lighthouse sessions.
Am also considering showing them "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer as an example of BAD POETRY, just like Sir Krip did. Hehehe. Yes, I know Krip's not exactly the best teacher, but I wholeheartedly agree that "Trees" is darned overrated.
Since they're high school, they're not likely to have read stuff. hmm... Know what? I'd love to whip out poetry for the kids to read. Here's a list of stuff I'd like to show them this far. Filipino poets get priority. Suggestions of stuff would rock.
1.) Patawad - Mikael Co
2.) Kursilyo - Hazel Caasi
3.) Icarus Christ - Eman Lacaba
4.) The First to Love - Simeon Dumdum Jr.
5.) Double Takes - Naya Valdelleon
and one more Tagalog poem. Probably "Bakit Minamadali" by Javier Bengzon, or something by Kapi. Anyway.
Also considering bringing my "all-star selections" of Neruda, Angelou, and other foreigners.
1.) Tonight I Can Write - Pablo Neruda
2.) One Art - Elizabeth Bishop
3.) Introduction to Poetry - Billy Collins
4.) The Road Not Taken - Robert Frost
5.) The Red Wheelbarrow - William Carlos Williams
Writing Exercises... Since they're kids, I'd want them to feel encouraged. So...
1.) First thoughts
2.) Rengga
3.) Photos & Memory
4.) Unforgettable moment
5.) Translation
Am at a loss, as some other exercises aren't always too applicable.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Today has been disappointing. Not disastrous. Just disappointing.
Wha? Who am I kidding? I am EVER so pissed off today!
Nothing that I wouldn't have anticipated. But it still wasn't all that nice. The people of LnK have heard about "part 1". The second part took place this afternoon. It's days like these that make living a chore. Worse, the TnT interview got moved to tomorrow, and no progress has been made on the fruit (which is now a pineapple, and that makes it no more easier).
There are seven knives in the kitchen. One is for fruit, one is for bread, one is for steak, and two more for vegetables. I forget what the other two are for. We just use them interchageably for various cutting needs. Six of them have black handles. They fit nicely in a wood knife rack beside the microwave oven at the corner of my kitchen.
I'm grateful that for the most part, I know how to control my rage.
Oh, at aliw panoorin ang "Significant Others". Shet, super nakaka-relate.
Wha? Who am I kidding? I am EVER so pissed off today!
Nothing that I wouldn't have anticipated. But it still wasn't all that nice. The people of LnK have heard about "part 1". The second part took place this afternoon. It's days like these that make living a chore. Worse, the TnT interview got moved to tomorrow, and no progress has been made on the fruit (which is now a pineapple, and that makes it no more easier).
There are seven knives in the kitchen. One is for fruit, one is for bread, one is for steak, and two more for vegetables. I forget what the other two are for. We just use them interchageably for various cutting needs. Six of them have black handles. They fit nicely in a wood knife rack beside the microwave oven at the corner of my kitchen.
I'm grateful that for the most part, I know how to control my rage.
Oh, at aliw panoorin ang "Significant Others". Shet, super nakaka-relate.
Monday, April 11, 2005
current music: Beautiful Day - U2
My song for today is U2's "Beautiful Day." Today, of all days, when my second Sem's grades arrived.
It looked something like this:
Philo 102: C+
Directing 1: B+
FA 102: B+
FA 105: B+
FA 107: A
Semestral QPI: 3.5
Yearly QPI : 3.15
Mahal na mahal kita, Lord. Thank you. Basta Ikaw!
Thank you too, for all who greeted before today [tulad ni Jason], and all day today. :)
I can sour-grape all day about working my ass off in Yan's class, and only coming up with 91.6, but fine. I may be .4 short of an A, but I don't care. 3.4 ang QPI I ko! Happy!
Next sem, cutting spree na 'to. :)
--------
Our block had a cool talk with Stephen Uy. I've spoken to Stephen before on theater set design way back in 3PO. He also works for Tito Dom in Darna. I was half-tempted to ask him to say Hi to the family's "resident director", but I decided against it. Some things are better kept under wraps (as of yet).
I took notes. It felt strangely cool. I felt like I was learning something that can help me with my future. Of course, selling sponsorship packages to big companies isn't exactly what I want to be doing for the rest of my life. Learning about how money can be made was. And I liked it.
I like the odds of our Fine Arts Festival. I invite everyone to watch out for it. This coming January siya! And it's gonna rock! :)
--------
Got Joboy's text regarding TnT.
I worry. I want to make it, but I worry.
Do I still got it? Can I do it again?
More on that some other time. But exciting stuff na 'to. :)
--------
Chatted with Sir DM Reyes on the way to the jeepney. He told me that in comparison, my poetry would not stand up. I shouldn't compare myself with others. I should, instead, work on my own voice. Once I find it, I'd be a-okay.
I forgot to thank him for the B+. But I didn't want to bring it up. I'm never comfy about discussing grades with teachers who give me high marks. I argue with those who dump crap on me, but if they're high, I'm happy. No need to argue over a few points for the A when the main point of me doing OK was already made.
-------
Bought my kid brother Warcraft 3: Frozen Throne as a late birthday gift. He loved it. Yey.
But not before I tried it out first. Hehe.
-------
Dad and I had a talk about God.
I shouldn't be surprised by how much he knows. He's an authority of sorts on the subject.
But still. I felt somewhat... trascendent, speaking to him.
I'm wishing everyday were like that: less drama, more understanding.
Basta, today's swell.
My song for today is U2's "Beautiful Day." Today, of all days, when my second Sem's grades arrived.
It looked something like this:
Philo 102: C+
Directing 1: B+
FA 102: B+
FA 105: B+
FA 107: A
Semestral QPI: 3.5
Yearly QPI : 3.15
Mahal na mahal kita, Lord. Thank you. Basta Ikaw!
Thank you too, for all who greeted before today [tulad ni Jason], and all day today. :)
I can sour-grape all day about working my ass off in Yan's class, and only coming up with 91.6, but fine. I may be .4 short of an A, but I don't care. 3.4 ang QPI I ko! Happy!
Next sem, cutting spree na 'to. :)
--------
Our block had a cool talk with Stephen Uy. I've spoken to Stephen before on theater set design way back in 3PO. He also works for Tito Dom in Darna. I was half-tempted to ask him to say Hi to the family's "resident director", but I decided against it. Some things are better kept under wraps (as of yet).
I took notes. It felt strangely cool. I felt like I was learning something that can help me with my future. Of course, selling sponsorship packages to big companies isn't exactly what I want to be doing for the rest of my life. Learning about how money can be made was. And I liked it.
I like the odds of our Fine Arts Festival. I invite everyone to watch out for it. This coming January siya! And it's gonna rock! :)
--------
Got Joboy's text regarding TnT.
I worry. I want to make it, but I worry.
Do I still got it? Can I do it again?
More on that some other time. But exciting stuff na 'to. :)
--------
Chatted with Sir DM Reyes on the way to the jeepney. He told me that in comparison, my poetry would not stand up. I shouldn't compare myself with others. I should, instead, work on my own voice. Once I find it, I'd be a-okay.
I forgot to thank him for the B+. But I didn't want to bring it up. I'm never comfy about discussing grades with teachers who give me high marks. I argue with those who dump crap on me, but if they're high, I'm happy. No need to argue over a few points for the A when the main point of me doing OK was already made.
-------
Bought my kid brother Warcraft 3: Frozen Throne as a late birthday gift. He loved it. Yey.
But not before I tried it out first. Hehe.
-------
Dad and I had a talk about God.
I shouldn't be surprised by how much he knows. He's an authority of sorts on the subject.
But still. I felt somewhat... trascendent, speaking to him.
I'm wishing everyday were like that: less drama, more understanding.
Basta, today's swell.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
As my blogspot has spent over a month languishing, I'm here to give it a shot in the arm with a survey nicked from Den.
Copy and re-post. Put an 'X' next to what you have accomplished.
(x) snuck out of the house
(x) gotten lost in your city
(x) seen a shooting star (only if a comet counts)
(x) been to any other countries besides the united states
(x) had a serious surgery (my right foot. stitch-scars are still there.)
( ) gone out in public in your pajamas
(x) kissed a stranger
(x) hugged a stranger
(x) been in a fist fight
( ) been arrested (I'm not counting the traffic fiasco. MMDA ain't cops)
( ) done drugs
( ) had alcohol
(x) laughed and had milk/coke come out of your nose
(x) pushed all the buttons on an elevator
( ) swore at your parents
(x) been in love
(x) been close to love
( ) been to a casino
( ) been skydiving (wag muna...mataas kasi BP. :p)
(x) broken a bone
(x) been high
( ) skinny-dipped
(x) skipped school
( ) flashed someone
( ) saw a therapist
(x) played spin the bottle
(x) gotten stitches
(x) drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour
(x) bitten someone
( ) been to Niagara Falls
(x) gotten the chicken pox
(x) kissed a member of the opposite sex
( ) kissed a member of the same sex
( ) crashed into a friend's car
( ) been to Japan (i know the plane took a stop there, but we didn't go down)
(x) ridden in a taxi (ilang beses na, dir)
(X) been dumped (yeah, in a manner of speaking)
( ) shoplifted
(X) been fired (ooh yeah.)
( ) had a crush on someone of the same sex
(x) had feelings for someone who didnt have them back
(x) stolen something from your job
( ) gone on a blind date
(x) lied to a friend
(x) had a crush on a teacher
( ) celebrated mardi-gras in new orleans
( ) been to Europe
( ) slept with a co-worker
( ) been married
( ) gotten divorced
( ) had children (kids ain't for me)
(x) seen someone die
( ) had a close friend die
( ) been to Africa
( ) Driven over 400 miles in one day (uy! something to do for summer 'to ah.)
( ) Been to Canada
( ) Been to Mexico
(x) Been on a plane
( ) Seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show
( ) Thrown up in a bar
( ) Purposely set a part of myself on fire
(x) Eaten Sushi
( ) Been snowboarding
( ) Met someone in person from the internet
( ) lost a child (and sincerely I hope not.)
(x) gone to college
( ) graduated college
( ) done hard drugs
( ) tried killing yourself (looking back... naah, not really)
(X) fired a gun
(x) purposely hurt yourself
(x) taken painkillers
(x) love someone or miss someone right now
Copy and re-post. Put an 'X' next to what you have accomplished.
(x) snuck out of the house
(x) gotten lost in your city
(x) seen a shooting star (only if a comet counts)
(x) been to any other countries besides the united states
(x) had a serious surgery (my right foot. stitch-scars are still there.)
( ) gone out in public in your pajamas
(x) kissed a stranger
(x) hugged a stranger
(x) been in a fist fight
( ) been arrested (I'm not counting the traffic fiasco. MMDA ain't cops)
( ) done drugs
( ) had alcohol
(x) laughed and had milk/coke come out of your nose
(x) pushed all the buttons on an elevator
( ) swore at your parents
(x) been in love
(x) been close to love
( ) been to a casino
( ) been skydiving (wag muna...mataas kasi BP. :p)
(x) broken a bone
(x) been high
( ) skinny-dipped
(x) skipped school
( ) flashed someone
( ) saw a therapist
(x) played spin the bottle
(x) gotten stitches
(x) drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour
(x) bitten someone
( ) been to Niagara Falls
(x) gotten the chicken pox
(x) kissed a member of the opposite sex
( ) kissed a member of the same sex
( ) crashed into a friend's car
( ) been to Japan (i know the plane took a stop there, but we didn't go down)
(x) ridden in a taxi (ilang beses na, dir)
(X) been dumped (yeah, in a manner of speaking)
( ) shoplifted
(X) been fired (ooh yeah.)
( ) had a crush on someone of the same sex
(x) had feelings for someone who didnt have them back
(x) stolen something from your job
( ) gone on a blind date
(x) lied to a friend
(x) had a crush on a teacher
( ) celebrated mardi-gras in new orleans
( ) been to Europe
( ) slept with a co-worker
( ) been married
( ) gotten divorced
( ) had children (kids ain't for me)
(x) seen someone die
( ) had a close friend die
( ) been to Africa
( ) Driven over 400 miles in one day (uy! something to do for summer 'to ah.)
( ) Been to Canada
( ) Been to Mexico
(x) Been on a plane
( ) Seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show
( ) Thrown up in a bar
( ) Purposely set a part of myself on fire
(x) Eaten Sushi
( ) Been snowboarding
( ) Met someone in person from the internet
( ) lost a child (and sincerely I hope not.)
(x) gone to college
( ) graduated college
( ) done hard drugs
( ) tried killing yourself (looking back... naah, not really)
(X) fired a gun
(x) purposely hurt yourself
(x) taken painkillers
(x) love someone or miss someone right now
Sunday, February 20, 2005
current music: Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours - Blue feat. Stevie Wonder
Coach Mike, my parents' badminton coach, suffered a sort of heart-attack. He's okay, although the hospital fees and all cost his family a very big financial blow.
So, my Dad's friends are starting up a concert. Performing are Jimmy Bondoc, Paolo Santos and Nyoy Volante & the Mannos. Tickets are 350 a head. :) Concert's at March 5, 2005 at Celebrity Sports. :) That's a Saturday, and it may well be the last big thing you can do before exams. :p
If you're interested, text me as soon as possible! If not watching, kindly spread the word!
Thanks!
Coach Mike, my parents' badminton coach, suffered a sort of heart-attack. He's okay, although the hospital fees and all cost his family a very big financial blow.
So, my Dad's friends are starting up a concert. Performing are Jimmy Bondoc, Paolo Santos and Nyoy Volante & the Mannos. Tickets are 350 a head. :) Concert's at March 5, 2005 at Celebrity Sports. :) That's a Saturday, and it may well be the last big thing you can do before exams. :p
If you're interested, text me as soon as possible! If not watching, kindly spread the word!
Thanks!
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Monday, February 14, 2005
current music: All This Love - El DeBarge
You Have A Type B+ Personality |
B+ You're a pro at going with the flow You love to kick back and take in everything life has to offer A total joy to be around, people crave your stability. While you're totally laid back, you can have bouts of hyperactivity. Get into a project you love, and you won't stop until it's done You're passionate - just selective about your passions |
Saturday, February 12, 2005
current music: Where You Are - Josh Groban
I thank Den for this gift of words.
Wala lang. It's my story too.
--------
Passion and Love
Paul Laurence Dunbar
A maiden wept and, as a comforter,
Came one who cried, “I love thee,” and he seized
Her in his arms and kissed her with hot breath,
That dried tears upon her flaming cheeks.
While evermore his boldly blazing eye
Burned into hers; but she uncomforted
Shrank from his arms and only wept the more.
Then one came and gazed mutely in her face
With wide and wistful eyes; but still aloof
He held himself; as with a reverent fear,
As one who knows some sacred presence nigh.
And as she wept he mingled tear with tear,
That cheered her soul like dew a dusty flower,--
Until she smiled, approached, and touched his hand!
I thank Den for this gift of words.
Wala lang. It's my story too.
--------
Passion and Love
Paul Laurence Dunbar
A maiden wept and, as a comforter,
Came one who cried, “I love thee,” and he seized
Her in his arms and kissed her with hot breath,
That dried tears upon her flaming cheeks.
While evermore his boldly blazing eye
Burned into hers; but she uncomforted
Shrank from his arms and only wept the more.
Then one came and gazed mutely in her face
With wide and wistful eyes; but still aloof
He held himself; as with a reverent fear,
As one who knows some sacred presence nigh.
And as she wept he mingled tear with tear,
That cheered her soul like dew a dusty flower,--
Until she smiled, approached, and touched his hand!
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
The other day, I wanted to paint. Yes. I wanted to paint. I wanted to grab a brush and splay a blank space with colors. Bright colors. Dull colors. Reds and yellows and blues and greens and oranges. Just plain playing with color, and them movements my brush's movements would evoke.
I used to be big on art. I was one of those kids who, for my entire life, just wanted to draw, color, watercolor, finger paint, pastel, clay mold my way through life. I openly told my parents I wanted to be a doctor, and I had quite an aptitude for science, mathematics and literary subjects.
But in truth, people could see that I never really read books for their text. I opened only the tomes with illustrations that interested me. I observed how they made me imagine the event taking place. I flipped, page after page, and marvelled at them.
Two things shook my consciousness quite remarkably as a child. One was cartoons.
Cartoons scared me at first. I was shocked at how a picture could move. I remember watching my first Mickey Mouse feature, and sat there open-jawed. I remember grabbing a crayon, drawing a dog on a piece of paper, and I waited. It didn't move. I looked at the TV some more, and there the black rat was, dancing, prancing his way.
I decided I wanted to find out how they made them move. I just had to. Otherwise, my work may never be as good.
The second strange event to me, and in a detrimental way, was my early introduction to video games.
I think I was three when Ninang Clar showed me Pac-Man. By then, I was used to the idea of moving pictures, and i didn't understand what Pac-Man was all about. I just liked being with Ninang Clar when she was playing it. And I had fun, for the most part.
But when I was introduced to Super Mario... Christ. I was stunned. Not only did the picures move, but I could control them now! I loved it. It was just so much fun.
Unfortunately, I think the two events in somewhat quick succession had delivered critical hits to my creative psyche. I looked back at my old sketchpads, and I discover that I had drawn nothing significant, save for replications of scenes I had produced when playing Contra, Mario or some other game. I watched cartoons a lot, but I could never imagine the still image of anything. I only knew how I wanted them to move. I could never draw them when they were not moving.
Maybe it was because, in city life like I've always lived, everything must move. Everything is in constant flux. The only things stationary are cars stuck in traffic. And even then, there's motion.
I don't know. I've forever had artistic ambitions. Writing is one way I can re-live them. Directing theater is another. And they work. I can implement the motions I like, because those media are very receptive of moving things. I could imagine how, say, an actor should speak, deliver lines, even dance, and I can instruct them, and they'd do it. Or I could write an essay or a short piece of fiction, and I can make characters behave any way I want.
But still, I still crave to grow capturing time standing still. I hunger for it.
I used to be big on art. I was one of those kids who, for my entire life, just wanted to draw, color, watercolor, finger paint, pastel, clay mold my way through life. I openly told my parents I wanted to be a doctor, and I had quite an aptitude for science, mathematics and literary subjects.
But in truth, people could see that I never really read books for their text. I opened only the tomes with illustrations that interested me. I observed how they made me imagine the event taking place. I flipped, page after page, and marvelled at them.
Two things shook my consciousness quite remarkably as a child. One was cartoons.
Cartoons scared me at first. I was shocked at how a picture could move. I remember watching my first Mickey Mouse feature, and sat there open-jawed. I remember grabbing a crayon, drawing a dog on a piece of paper, and I waited. It didn't move. I looked at the TV some more, and there the black rat was, dancing, prancing his way.
I decided I wanted to find out how they made them move. I just had to. Otherwise, my work may never be as good.
The second strange event to me, and in a detrimental way, was my early introduction to video games.
I think I was three when Ninang Clar showed me Pac-Man. By then, I was used to the idea of moving pictures, and i didn't understand what Pac-Man was all about. I just liked being with Ninang Clar when she was playing it. And I had fun, for the most part.
But when I was introduced to Super Mario... Christ. I was stunned. Not only did the picures move, but I could control them now! I loved it. It was just so much fun.
Unfortunately, I think the two events in somewhat quick succession had delivered critical hits to my creative psyche. I looked back at my old sketchpads, and I discover that I had drawn nothing significant, save for replications of scenes I had produced when playing Contra, Mario or some other game. I watched cartoons a lot, but I could never imagine the still image of anything. I only knew how I wanted them to move. I could never draw them when they were not moving.
Maybe it was because, in city life like I've always lived, everything must move. Everything is in constant flux. The only things stationary are cars stuck in traffic. And even then, there's motion.
I don't know. I've forever had artistic ambitions. Writing is one way I can re-live them. Directing theater is another. And they work. I can implement the motions I like, because those media are very receptive of moving things. I could imagine how, say, an actor should speak, deliver lines, even dance, and I can instruct them, and they'd do it. Or I could write an essay or a short piece of fiction, and I can make characters behave any way I want.
But still, I still crave to grow capturing time standing still. I hunger for it.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
current music: Over and Over - Nelly, Heaven Help - Lenny Kravitz
I didn't care about that 7 PM color-coding rule. I needed to return home. I just had to. I wanted to watch plays at Parada, and I wanted to chill out with some friends some more. But I just had to return home as I walked out of the Pub. I just wanted to get away to someplace more familiar.
At home, I kept my chores quick. I talked to my sister, watched the Simpsons and some American Idol (for a change) and ate dinner. My internet maintanance (email, gmail, etc), I kept quick. I just kept going. I didn't want my mind to go blank, and let me remember.
I got up. I walked to my room and closed the door gently behind me. Outside at the hall, I could hear my brother watching NBA basketball and my sister shuffling her feet downstairs to study. I closed the door tightly, and ever so gently such that it wouldn't creak or anything.
I closed my hand into a fist and punched the wall. I pounded it with my knuckles until they reddened and I heard a slight crunchy sound. I stopped lest some of that red would stain the wallpaper.
I took a deep breath. I looked around. I grabbed my pillow and threw it around like a wrestler does his hapless victim. In a fit of rage, I decided to just let it all out, in the privacy of this closed room. I didn't yell, curse, scream or anything like that. I just unloaded all the violence on inanimate things.
I curled into bed and wept.
When I cry, there are no tears. Only a sobbing that takes hold of me. I don't even know if it's really sobbing; it's not really crying if there aren't any tears, so is it still sobbing? But I know what a sob sounds like. And me holding a pillow in tight embrace, and trembling... yeah. I was just a pathetic sight.
--------
This is the worst day in the past week and a half and it has been the worst week in the past 4 years of my life. This is rock bottom, ladies and gentlemen. I'm juggling several tasks, watching my friends either fight among each other, disappear, or just plain pretend not to mind.
And I will do these tasks. I don't care if I'll die from another coughing attack. I will move mountains for once, because other people have been doing it for so long. High time I do too.
----------
I gave myself some time to listen to a friend's problem. Wahaha. right then, I realized that all the worrying I was doing is now on their hands. All their own, dirty, fucking hands. I thought a few days ago that I was the one carrying and spinning the stories so people won't get that hurt. Like I was the bearer of awful secrets.
As the story progressed, things started to spiral. Now, I notice that they're slowly starting to see the whole story like I've seen it for so long. They're starting to get the full extent of their faults. They see what I have been seeing, putting up with, keeping quiet for the past 9 or 10 days.
Putang ina. Dapat lang. May hangganan din ang tao. And I don't want this anymore. I have work to do, a life to lead. I'm tired of being used as some safe-deposit box, or some punching bag. Fuckers, all of 'em.
But nevertheless. They're my friends, and honor is something I'm not accustomed to throwing away. If they need me, I'm still here. I just pray I don't have to lie or anything. Please lang. I didn't ask to be here. Respect and sensitivity are all I need right now. It's really all I'll need. that, and maybe a hug.
-----
I decided to call James. Hehehe. Years may pass, and sometimes some things will never leave you. I talked to bespren James over Game 2 of the PBA Finals and stories of our lives this far. It was nice.
I had long decided to refrain from calling friends whenever I had problems. Slowly I stopped calling, and I started to solve problems on my own, to bug their lives less, to get my own game rolling with or without them. I decided to sever some ties, and I'm happy I did.
And yet, as things are turning from gold to shit, I'm glad that some people just never wanted to disappear. James is one of 'em, and I've not met a person who'd live "Basta Ikaw" better, even if he's got no idea where that phrase comes from. :)I'm surprised by how much I feel better. James, rakstar ka't mahal kita. Sayang lang natalo Talk N Text. Hehe.
--------
Jeb says he can do the play. And now that I have his sched, i can work around it too.
Mel has agreed to play the role of the girl. Astig.
James has agreed to act for me in the dire moment everything falls apart. Personally, I'd love it that my best friend's my actor. I just would. But we'll see.
Si Crisel, kakausapin ko bukas. Sana okey na lahat, for all our sakes.
Wow. Pwede na pala akong mag-timpla ng cast! :) This is a first for me. :) pucha, kulang na lang may baby (as in sanggol talaga) kaming gaganap ng papel ng baby. :p
This is exciting. I can't wait to start experimenting and I can't wait till I find that optimum performance cast. :)
yey. I love this job.
------
This is the song of my entire 2005 so far. hooo yeah.Julian knows why, all too well.
NELLY (f/ Tim McGraw)
Over And Over
'Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
And I can't keep picturing you with him
And it hurts so bad, yeah
Cause it's all in my head
I think about it over and over again
I replay it over and over again
And I can't take it yeah
I can't shake it
Nooo
I can't wait to see you
Want to see if you still got that look in your eyes
That one you had for me before we said our goodbyes
And it's a shame that we got to spend our time
Being mad about the same things
Over and over again
About the same things
Over and over again
Ohh
But I think she's leaving
Ooh man she's leaving
I don't know what else to do
(I can't go on not loving you)
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
And I can't keep picturing you with him
And it hurts so bad, yeah
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
I replay it over and over again yeah
And I can't take it yeah I can't shake it
Nooo
I remember the day you left
I remember the last breath you took right in front of me
When you said that you would leave
I was too damn stubborn to try to stop you or say anything
But I see clearly now
And this choice I made keep playing in my head
Over and over again
Playing my head
Over and over again
Ohh
I think she's leaving
Ooh man she's leaving
I don't know what else to do
(I can't go on not loving you)
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
And I can't keep picturing you with him
And it hurts so bad, yeah
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
I replay it over and over again
And I can't take it
I can't shake it
Nooo
(Now that I've realized that I'm going down
From all this pain you've put me through
Everytime I close my eyes I lock it down
I can't go on not loving you)
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
And I can't keep picturing you with him
And it hurts so bad, yeah
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
I replay it over and over again
And I can't take it
I can't shake it
Nooo
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
And I can't keep picturing you with him
And it hurts so bad, yeah
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
I replay it over and over again
And I can't take it
I can't shake it
Nooo
Over and Over again
Over and Over again
Cause it's all in my head
Despair is the worst of sins. It is when you believe that not even God can help you.
Lord, I'm sorry. I just feel utterly angry.
--------
not a total loss though. I think things are looking up somehow. Funny how the night loves me and showers me with blessings, but the sun greets me only to burn me hellishly.
I didn't care about that 7 PM color-coding rule. I needed to return home. I just had to. I wanted to watch plays at Parada, and I wanted to chill out with some friends some more. But I just had to return home as I walked out of the Pub. I just wanted to get away to someplace more familiar.
At home, I kept my chores quick. I talked to my sister, watched the Simpsons and some American Idol (for a change) and ate dinner. My internet maintanance (email, gmail, etc), I kept quick. I just kept going. I didn't want my mind to go blank, and let me remember.
I got up. I walked to my room and closed the door gently behind me. Outside at the hall, I could hear my brother watching NBA basketball and my sister shuffling her feet downstairs to study. I closed the door tightly, and ever so gently such that it wouldn't creak or anything.
I closed my hand into a fist and punched the wall. I pounded it with my knuckles until they reddened and I heard a slight crunchy sound. I stopped lest some of that red would stain the wallpaper.
I took a deep breath. I looked around. I grabbed my pillow and threw it around like a wrestler does his hapless victim. In a fit of rage, I decided to just let it all out, in the privacy of this closed room. I didn't yell, curse, scream or anything like that. I just unloaded all the violence on inanimate things.
I curled into bed and wept.
When I cry, there are no tears. Only a sobbing that takes hold of me. I don't even know if it's really sobbing; it's not really crying if there aren't any tears, so is it still sobbing? But I know what a sob sounds like. And me holding a pillow in tight embrace, and trembling... yeah. I was just a pathetic sight.
--------
This is the worst day in the past week and a half and it has been the worst week in the past 4 years of my life. This is rock bottom, ladies and gentlemen. I'm juggling several tasks, watching my friends either fight among each other, disappear, or just plain pretend not to mind.
And I will do these tasks. I don't care if I'll die from another coughing attack. I will move mountains for once, because other people have been doing it for so long. High time I do too.
----------
I gave myself some time to listen to a friend's problem. Wahaha. right then, I realized that all the worrying I was doing is now on their hands. All their own, dirty, fucking hands. I thought a few days ago that I was the one carrying and spinning the stories so people won't get that hurt. Like I was the bearer of awful secrets.
As the story progressed, things started to spiral. Now, I notice that they're slowly starting to see the whole story like I've seen it for so long. They're starting to get the full extent of their faults. They see what I have been seeing, putting up with, keeping quiet for the past 9 or 10 days.
Putang ina. Dapat lang. May hangganan din ang tao. And I don't want this anymore. I have work to do, a life to lead. I'm tired of being used as some safe-deposit box, or some punching bag. Fuckers, all of 'em.
But nevertheless. They're my friends, and honor is something I'm not accustomed to throwing away. If they need me, I'm still here. I just pray I don't have to lie or anything. Please lang. I didn't ask to be here. Respect and sensitivity are all I need right now. It's really all I'll need. that, and maybe a hug.
-----
I decided to call James. Hehehe. Years may pass, and sometimes some things will never leave you. I talked to bespren James over Game 2 of the PBA Finals and stories of our lives this far. It was nice.
I had long decided to refrain from calling friends whenever I had problems. Slowly I stopped calling, and I started to solve problems on my own, to bug their lives less, to get my own game rolling with or without them. I decided to sever some ties, and I'm happy I did.
And yet, as things are turning from gold to shit, I'm glad that some people just never wanted to disappear. James is one of 'em, and I've not met a person who'd live "Basta Ikaw" better, even if he's got no idea where that phrase comes from. :)I'm surprised by how much I feel better. James, rakstar ka't mahal kita. Sayang lang natalo Talk N Text. Hehe.
--------
Jeb says he can do the play. And now that I have his sched, i can work around it too.
Mel has agreed to play the role of the girl. Astig.
James has agreed to act for me in the dire moment everything falls apart. Personally, I'd love it that my best friend's my actor. I just would. But we'll see.
Si Crisel, kakausapin ko bukas. Sana okey na lahat, for all our sakes.
Wow. Pwede na pala akong mag-timpla ng cast! :) This is a first for me. :) pucha, kulang na lang may baby (as in sanggol talaga) kaming gaganap ng papel ng baby. :p
This is exciting. I can't wait to start experimenting and I can't wait till I find that optimum performance cast. :)
yey. I love this job.
------
This is the song of my entire 2005 so far. hooo yeah.Julian knows why, all too well.
NELLY (f/ Tim McGraw)
Over And Over
'Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
And I can't keep picturing you with him
And it hurts so bad, yeah
Cause it's all in my head
I think about it over and over again
I replay it over and over again
And I can't take it yeah
I can't shake it
Nooo
I can't wait to see you
Want to see if you still got that look in your eyes
That one you had for me before we said our goodbyes
And it's a shame that we got to spend our time
Being mad about the same things
Over and over again
About the same things
Over and over again
Ohh
But I think she's leaving
Ooh man she's leaving
I don't know what else to do
(I can't go on not loving you)
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
And I can't keep picturing you with him
And it hurts so bad, yeah
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
I replay it over and over again yeah
And I can't take it yeah I can't shake it
Nooo
I remember the day you left
I remember the last breath you took right in front of me
When you said that you would leave
I was too damn stubborn to try to stop you or say anything
But I see clearly now
And this choice I made keep playing in my head
Over and over again
Playing my head
Over and over again
Ohh
I think she's leaving
Ooh man she's leaving
I don't know what else to do
(I can't go on not loving you)
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
And I can't keep picturing you with him
And it hurts so bad, yeah
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
I replay it over and over again
And I can't take it
I can't shake it
Nooo
(Now that I've realized that I'm going down
From all this pain you've put me through
Everytime I close my eyes I lock it down
I can't go on not loving you)
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
And I can't keep picturing you with him
And it hurts so bad, yeah
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
I replay it over and over again
And I can't take it
I can't shake it
Nooo
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
And I can't keep picturing you with him
And it hurts so bad, yeah
Cause its all in my head
I think about it over and over again
I replay it over and over again
And I can't take it
I can't shake it
Nooo
Over and Over again
Over and Over again
Cause it's all in my head
Despair is the worst of sins. It is when you believe that not even God can help you.
Lord, I'm sorry. I just feel utterly angry.
--------
not a total loss though. I think things are looking up somehow. Funny how the night loves me and showers me with blessings, but the sun greets me only to burn me hellishly.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
current music: Untitled (How Does It Feel) - D'Angelo
Yes, it's high time I answer The Great "If You Call Me..." Survey!
If you call me "Raph":
you're my friend, a favorite teacher (and there are lots of you), part of my family and/or household, or I've just introduced myelf and have shaken your hand. You're about 78% of everybody I know, and you're special to me.
If you call me "Raphael":
you most likely read my name of a class list or attendance check list, or I've only seen you once and introduced myself as "Raphael".
If you call me "Ralph":
You can't quite pronounce "Raph" properly. Fine, it's okay.
If you STILL call me "Ralph":
I hate you. Very much so.
If you call me "Ralph" every now and then:
you must be trying to introduce me to a friend of yours and bungled it. That, or you're part of my Philo class (particularly, KC!).
If you call me "Raph, my friend" (or sometimes "Ralph, my friend"):
you're Dr. Leovino Garica.
If at the sight of me you go "Hey, Raph!" with a slight twang:
you're Mel! And you're cool.
If at the sight of me you go "Hey, Raph!" with a twang and you raise your hand in a strange handshake-like sign:
you're my best friend James, and you're the last one who remembers that handshake.
If at the sight of me you go "Raaaaaph!" and give me a hug:
you're Tine!
If you called me "Raffy" at one time or another:
you're one of Mom or Dad's friends. If not, I didn't like you very much. Odds are, I still don't.
If you called me "Papa Raph":
you're either Gillie from Days or Abu from Kaingin.
If you call me "Jose Raphael Federico Gan Doval Santos":
you're my birth certificate. Odds are, you're also my driver's licence, passport, school papers and insurance papers. You don't know me all that well.
There's also an outside shot you're Julian, making kulit. But Julian never gets my full name right.
If you call me "Mr. Doval-Santos" with a weak, somewhat faint voice:
you're Sir. D.M. Reyes or Sir Jonathan Chua, and I love your classes.
If you go "Hoy, Mister Doval-Santos" with an almost nasal quality to it:
you're Monix, and undoubtedly so.
If you go "Uy, Raph":
makali yung odds na ikaw si Fritz o si Bojit o si Mark, or any of my very trusted friends whom I've not talked to in a while.
If you called me "Ginoong Doval-Santos":
you must've been a Filipino teacher! Most likely you were Sir JoGon or Sir Morny de Guzman.
If you call me "Doval":
you must have met me back in grade school or high school. either a teacher or a classmate or batchmate. It's nice to see you again after all this time, too.
If you STILL INSIST on calling me "Doval" after some weeks have passed:
you've just GOT to be from high school. That's like, a handful of you.
If over the phone you still address me as "Doval":
you're Karen Manalastas, and I've not called you in a long while.
If you call me "Dovs":
you're problably Pol Carado (and I don't like you very much), or you're a Math blockmate and I like you a lot.
If on the phone you go "Oy, Dovs":
you're probably Emong.
If you call me "Dovski":
ah, you must be from Block W. You're either Pao, Jemjem or even Ryan.
If you call me "Duvie" (Y!M or otherwise) and like to either pinch my arm or hug me in embarrassing moments:
you're Mela. You're very makulit, endearing, funny and I miss ya!
If you called me "Dovar":
you're my confidant Pepper Relos and DAMMIT umuwi ka na sa Pinas!!
If you pronounce my name like "Rhaf" (with a slight silent H sound before the A):
you're Ma'am Sison, my English teacher from High School.
If you call me "Kuya Rap" while clambering up my back:
you're a kid from Kaingin. You're cute.
If you call me "Kuya Rap" and you jump on my back, giving me a slight shock of surprise and discomfort:
you must be Taruc! And yes, I've not been to area enough. Hehe.
IF you call me "Kuya Raf" and spell it like that too:
you're an LnK kid! You're my favorite kind of student, really. :)
If you call me "Jose":
you're the evil Dr. Torres from Pisay. I hate you very, very much.
If you called me "rakstar" the day I met you:
you're Kael. Tangina, rakstar ka!
If you call me "hvnspwn":
you must know me from forum or mail list I subscribe to. It's nice to meet you too.
If you call me as "hvnspwn" while trying to kill me:
you must have met me in BlueSkies years ago in a Counterstrike or Battlefield 1942 game. Yeah, the feeling's mutual.
If you all me "hvnspwn" and you're fighting the person I mentioned above:
you might have been my teammate back then. Hehe.
If you call me "Heaven_Spawn" in real life:
keep quiet. There are only about five of you, and I hold you very, very dear to me.
If you called me "an angel" at one point in time or another:
odds are you're Missy, Christa, Patch, Rach, Hi-C, Ailyn, or anybody I've helped out over the years. I love y'all.
If you called me "angel_spawn" and I corrected you:
You've just GOT to be Crisel.
If you just call me "Kuya":
you're somebody who isn't part of my family, but to me, you mean more than my 'real family' at times. You're either from LnK, Days or from Area.
If you called me "The Walking Tracy McGrady Shrine":
you're Jeb.
If you call me "Shaq":
you're my neighbors with whom I play basketball with. (And no, I don't play like Shaq. I'm not that good..)
It you call me "Direk":
you're Tita Teench.
If you call me "My Favorite Inaanak":
you're Ninang Clarise, and I love you very much.
If you called me "Snowman":
you must've been my classmates from 2nd year high picking on my white lab coat. I did not appreciate that very much.
If you called me "Mr. Santos":
you're a teacher whom I had to correct with my name. You're also likely somebody I'm talking to over an office counter (like, say, when I'm paying tuition) or when I'm explaining where I live when I order pizza.
If you called me "Bespren ng Lahat":
you're Mike Pineda, who wrote a write-up for me once in high school.
If you don't call out my name:
you're probably one of the following: an enemy who hates me, a friend who forgot my name but still smile at me in the halls, or you were talking to somebody at the time.
--------
I can't remember what the pseudonyms were for my workshop entries, so I can't enter those. :p
Yes, it's high time I answer The Great "If You Call Me..." Survey!
If you call me "Raph":
you're my friend, a favorite teacher (and there are lots of you), part of my family and/or household, or I've just introduced myelf and have shaken your hand. You're about 78% of everybody I know, and you're special to me.
If you call me "Raphael":
you most likely read my name of a class list or attendance check list, or I've only seen you once and introduced myself as "Raphael".
If you call me "Ralph":
You can't quite pronounce "Raph" properly. Fine, it's okay.
If you STILL call me "Ralph":
I hate you. Very much so.
If you call me "Ralph" every now and then:
you must be trying to introduce me to a friend of yours and bungled it. That, or you're part of my Philo class (particularly, KC!).
If you call me "Raph, my friend" (or sometimes "Ralph, my friend"):
you're Dr. Leovino Garica.
If at the sight of me you go "Hey, Raph!" with a slight twang:
you're Mel! And you're cool.
If at the sight of me you go "Hey, Raph!" with a twang and you raise your hand in a strange handshake-like sign:
you're my best friend James, and you're the last one who remembers that handshake.
If at the sight of me you go "Raaaaaph!" and give me a hug:
you're Tine!
If you called me "Raffy" at one time or another:
you're one of Mom or Dad's friends. If not, I didn't like you very much. Odds are, I still don't.
If you called me "Papa Raph":
you're either Gillie from Days or Abu from Kaingin.
If you call me "Jose Raphael Federico Gan Doval Santos":
you're my birth certificate. Odds are, you're also my driver's licence, passport, school papers and insurance papers. You don't know me all that well.
There's also an outside shot you're Julian, making kulit. But Julian never gets my full name right.
If you call me "Mr. Doval-Santos" with a weak, somewhat faint voice:
you're Sir. D.M. Reyes or Sir Jonathan Chua, and I love your classes.
If you go "Hoy, Mister Doval-Santos" with an almost nasal quality to it:
you're Monix, and undoubtedly so.
If you go "Uy, Raph":
makali yung odds na ikaw si Fritz o si Bojit o si Mark, or any of my very trusted friends whom I've not talked to in a while.
If you called me "Ginoong Doval-Santos":
you must've been a Filipino teacher! Most likely you were Sir JoGon or Sir Morny de Guzman.
If you call me "Doval":
you must have met me back in grade school or high school. either a teacher or a classmate or batchmate. It's nice to see you again after all this time, too.
If you STILL INSIST on calling me "Doval" after some weeks have passed:
you've just GOT to be from high school. That's like, a handful of you.
If over the phone you still address me as "Doval":
you're Karen Manalastas, and I've not called you in a long while.
If you call me "Dovs":
you're problably Pol Carado (and I don't like you very much), or you're a Math blockmate and I like you a lot.
If on the phone you go "Oy, Dovs":
you're probably Emong.
If you call me "Dovski":
ah, you must be from Block W. You're either Pao, Jemjem or even Ryan.
If you call me "Duvie" (Y!M or otherwise) and like to either pinch my arm or hug me in embarrassing moments:
you're Mela. You're very makulit, endearing, funny and I miss ya!
If you called me "Dovar":
you're my confidant Pepper Relos and DAMMIT umuwi ka na sa Pinas!!
If you pronounce my name like "Rhaf" (with a slight silent H sound before the A):
you're Ma'am Sison, my English teacher from High School.
If you call me "Kuya Rap" while clambering up my back:
you're a kid from Kaingin. You're cute.
If you call me "Kuya Rap" and you jump on my back, giving me a slight shock of surprise and discomfort:
you must be Taruc! And yes, I've not been to area enough. Hehe.
IF you call me "Kuya Raf" and spell it like that too:
you're an LnK kid! You're my favorite kind of student, really. :)
If you call me "Jose":
you're the evil Dr. Torres from Pisay. I hate you very, very much.
If you called me "rakstar" the day I met you:
you're Kael. Tangina, rakstar ka!
If you call me "hvnspwn":
you must know me from forum or mail list I subscribe to. It's nice to meet you too.
If you call me as "hvnspwn" while trying to kill me:
you must have met me in BlueSkies years ago in a Counterstrike or Battlefield 1942 game. Yeah, the feeling's mutual.
If you all me "hvnspwn" and you're fighting the person I mentioned above:
you might have been my teammate back then. Hehe.
If you call me "Heaven_Spawn" in real life:
keep quiet. There are only about five of you, and I hold you very, very dear to me.
If you called me "an angel" at one point in time or another:
odds are you're Missy, Christa, Patch, Rach, Hi-C, Ailyn, or anybody I've helped out over the years. I love y'all.
If you called me "angel_spawn" and I corrected you:
You've just GOT to be Crisel.
If you just call me "Kuya":
you're somebody who isn't part of my family, but to me, you mean more than my 'real family' at times. You're either from LnK, Days or from Area.
If you called me "The Walking Tracy McGrady Shrine":
you're Jeb.
If you call me "Shaq":
you're my neighbors with whom I play basketball with. (And no, I don't play like Shaq. I'm not that good..)
It you call me "Direk":
you're Tita Teench.
If you call me "My Favorite Inaanak":
you're Ninang Clarise, and I love you very much.
If you called me "Snowman":
you must've been my classmates from 2nd year high picking on my white lab coat. I did not appreciate that very much.
If you called me "Mr. Santos":
you're a teacher whom I had to correct with my name. You're also likely somebody I'm talking to over an office counter (like, say, when I'm paying tuition) or when I'm explaining where I live when I order pizza.
If you called me "Bespren ng Lahat":
you're Mike Pineda, who wrote a write-up for me once in high school.
If you don't call out my name:
you're probably one of the following: an enemy who hates me, a friend who forgot my name but still smile at me in the halls, or you were talking to somebody at the time.
--------
I can't remember what the pseudonyms were for my workshop entries, so I can't enter those. :p
Monday, January 24, 2005
current music: Over and Over - Nelly
I posted this here before, but I want everybody to get to read this, at least once. =)
Your Feet
Pablo Neruda
When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.
I posted this here before, but I want everybody to get to read this, at least once. =)
Your Feet
Pablo Neruda
When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
current music: Mata - Mojofly
You scored as The Allmighty Tallest. You are the Allmighty Tallest! You rule over others, and you always get your way. SNACKS ROCK!
Which Invader Zim Charecter are You? created with QuizFarm.com |
Thursday, January 06, 2005
current music: Beautiful Day - U2
Know what? I actually had plans for today! Yeah, for today, my birthday, was supposed to be that day I always tell everybody I'm not doing anything specail.
It turns out that the project to drink some coffee and to help clean up the venue for the batch tomorrow (patay) got flushed down the toilet. The reasons were my returned coughing and my kid brother needing the car that afternoon.
And he said he'd commute! SO, I took my time to research, and I texted that he should go on ahead in a jeep. Walang reply. I go home at around 11:30 (which is already late for me). And yun pala, hindi pa siya umaalis nang bahay nung umuwi ako. Hence, I ended up playing into what he wanted.
Then Dad bans me from helping out in the batch today because of my cough. Bastard.
What a birthday.
-------
Some people texted in greetings. I'm happy.
Some people forgot. Shit.
Turning 21, as I thought, would be no fun.
--------
Bright sides: people are turning out to be nicer than I expected them to be.
No, they're not greeting me in the halls or saying "Happy Birthday". But they are taking time to talk to me, like I do for them.
Imagine! Naka-upo ako sa Pub nang buong hapon kahapon, 'tas isa-isa silang dumalaw, naki-upo, at nag-kwentuhan!
It was a welcome change. :) Beautiful, really.
Know what? I actually had plans for today! Yeah, for today, my birthday, was supposed to be that day I always tell everybody I'm not doing anything specail.
It turns out that the project to drink some coffee and to help clean up the venue for the batch tomorrow (patay) got flushed down the toilet. The reasons were my returned coughing and my kid brother needing the car that afternoon.
And he said he'd commute! SO, I took my time to research, and I texted that he should go on ahead in a jeep. Walang reply. I go home at around 11:30 (which is already late for me). And yun pala, hindi pa siya umaalis nang bahay nung umuwi ako. Hence, I ended up playing into what he wanted.
Then Dad bans me from helping out in the batch today because of my cough. Bastard.
What a birthday.
-------
Some people texted in greetings. I'm happy.
Some people forgot. Shit.
Turning 21, as I thought, would be no fun.
--------
Bright sides: people are turning out to be nicer than I expected them to be.
No, they're not greeting me in the halls or saying "Happy Birthday". But they are taking time to talk to me, like I do for them.
Imagine! Naka-upo ako sa Pub nang buong hapon kahapon, 'tas isa-isa silang dumalaw, naki-upo, at nag-kwentuhan!
It was a welcome change. :) Beautiful, really.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
current music: Canto Alla Vita - Josh Groban
Yes, on the first week of 2K-nickel, it's begun to dawn to me.
I've lost the life I once led.
Once upon a time, I had things pretty nicely in place. I was a sophomore, member of Kaingin, Heights and AMS. I was a Math major who wasn't like any other Math major. I made lots of friends, and people would slap hands or wave when I passed by. When I'd introduce myself to total stangers in school, I'd be surprised when they'd say they had seen me before. I grew very skilled in schmoozing with the higher-ups of the school, and won praise for a lot of the things I did.
I credit this mostly to TnT. Apparently, people remembered me best there. And yes, I loved being part of Ateneo's "most amazing people". I loved the work there. In fact, it was the only kind of work I wanted to be doing the very first day I made it to Ateneo. I wanted to be a TnT, and I pursued the dream, and voila! I was one. I learned to chase a dream then, and I learned that they do come true.
Today, I'm a ghost. I avoid social situations. I don't like being seen by others. You will hardly find a smile on my face. I am no longer affiliated with any of the organizations I mentioned above. I left AMS because I no longer hung out at the ASG, and I've learned to despise how Kaingin's party politics ignored the work I've put into that org for two years.
And don't get me started with what happened in that God-dammed ivory tower called Heights. It was the only org of the three I really, REALLY wanted to keep, and fresh from a nomination to the Editorial Board, they fire me.
I love the Heights people to bits and they're some of my dearest friends, but I'm learning to avoid what they've become (or more accurately, what I fear I'm watching them become into: another more educated, sophisticated and snobbish version of Kaingin).
So yeah. It appears to me, while doing my translation writing exercises that the people of DWTL are the only "org" I work for. It appears that all this time throughout Junior year and all the changes and things I've lost, I've gained so much time to give to A-Days. I've staffed full-time for two batches, and I've headed a committee for the most recent one. If I'm not doing anything directly school related (which includes my directing class) or if I'm not doing something with the LnK'ers (like preparing Perry's birthday, or attending Carla's dinner bash), I'm spending time with the Dayzers. I'm working with them for a batch, or playing ball with them, or having lunch or whatever. Mostly, it's work, and I like it like that. I like having work to do, you see,
The rules say I can't tell you what I do, what we all do during these batches and what we give to others. That, you have to see for yourself. But that's another story.
This work ethic, combined with what I call "kamikaze work ethic" has not been kind to me. The stress has slowed me down greatly, and I've recently been hospitalized. Fresh out of the hospital, I still had work to do for the batch, and hence, my recovery had been very superficial. It took a whole Christmas break to get better, but then, there's work left unfinished.
I love the work, but I'm not feeling very good about what the work's left me: sick and pretty much alone.
I gave up things for A-Days. I gave up a lot of my free time, I gave up time studying to make meetings and practice for music. I sacrificed a shot to be a TnT a second year in a row so I could wrap up my work for a batch. Sure, I was still their friend, but I felt like I lost the right to be one of them. It sucked.
Now, I'm lost somewhat. While I love the Dayzers to bits, and that they're slowly becoming a family I don't have here at home, in school, I don't have anywhere else to go. I'm a shiftee; I don't have a block. My close friends all have lives of their own (LnK, former blockmates and even my bestest friends James and Fritz come to mind).
I don't usually think about belonging. I learned early in life that I was very different from everybody. I learned to live by myself. I'm like what my father says "truly one of males in the animal kingdom", as it's the males who live alone, and the females and children who live in packs. In essence, living alone isn't stange to me, and I take a strange pride in knowing that I work on my own terms. The problem is, everybody doesn't want to be alone forever.
I'm also very careful of who I trust. I've also come to realize that I live a life that very often forces me to make friends and then move on very suddenly, or that the friends I make have to move on too. I've got a handful of very loyal and loving friends, and I've got oodles and oodles of buddies I love to bits, but I find that I confide to only a very select few. I don't open up very easily (unless it's on printed media and I can control what others see). I don't make friends for keeps all that well, and the people I love often don't try or want look after me as much as I try or want to look after them.
Tomorrow, school starts. I'll most likely roam the corridors and encounter hundreds and hundreds of stangers. I'll see classmates again, who have their own little cliques that I've honestly no taste to be part of. I'll likely hit the library to get some stuff done for my classes that I did not get to all do over the break. I'll eat lunch on my own. I'll walk around the shops of Katips on my own. I'll run into some friends, talk to them, tell them stuff and have a blast, at least, until they have to go off and do things for themselves too. I'll do this from 7:30 AM when I get to school, and keep it up for 12 hours as I'll go home at 7:30 PM.
I don't know what I've got. I just know that when school starts tomorrow, if this keeps up I don't think I'll make it.
Lord, I beg you. Send me an angel or something. I hate being alone.
Yes, on the first week of 2K-nickel, it's begun to dawn to me.
I've lost the life I once led.
Once upon a time, I had things pretty nicely in place. I was a sophomore, member of Kaingin, Heights and AMS. I was a Math major who wasn't like any other Math major. I made lots of friends, and people would slap hands or wave when I passed by. When I'd introduce myself to total stangers in school, I'd be surprised when they'd say they had seen me before. I grew very skilled in schmoozing with the higher-ups of the school, and won praise for a lot of the things I did.
I credit this mostly to TnT. Apparently, people remembered me best there. And yes, I loved being part of Ateneo's "most amazing people". I loved the work there. In fact, it was the only kind of work I wanted to be doing the very first day I made it to Ateneo. I wanted to be a TnT, and I pursued the dream, and voila! I was one. I learned to chase a dream then, and I learned that they do come true.
Today, I'm a ghost. I avoid social situations. I don't like being seen by others. You will hardly find a smile on my face. I am no longer affiliated with any of the organizations I mentioned above. I left AMS because I no longer hung out at the ASG, and I've learned to despise how Kaingin's party politics ignored the work I've put into that org for two years.
And don't get me started with what happened in that God-dammed ivory tower called Heights. It was the only org of the three I really, REALLY wanted to keep, and fresh from a nomination to the Editorial Board, they fire me.
I love the Heights people to bits and they're some of my dearest friends, but I'm learning to avoid what they've become (or more accurately, what I fear I'm watching them become into: another more educated, sophisticated and snobbish version of Kaingin).
So yeah. It appears to me, while doing my translation writing exercises that the people of DWTL are the only "org" I work for. It appears that all this time throughout Junior year and all the changes and things I've lost, I've gained so much time to give to A-Days. I've staffed full-time for two batches, and I've headed a committee for the most recent one. If I'm not doing anything directly school related (which includes my directing class) or if I'm not doing something with the LnK'ers (like preparing Perry's birthday, or attending Carla's dinner bash), I'm spending time with the Dayzers. I'm working with them for a batch, or playing ball with them, or having lunch or whatever. Mostly, it's work, and I like it like that. I like having work to do, you see,
The rules say I can't tell you what I do, what we all do during these batches and what we give to others. That, you have to see for yourself. But that's another story.
This work ethic, combined with what I call "kamikaze work ethic" has not been kind to me. The stress has slowed me down greatly, and I've recently been hospitalized. Fresh out of the hospital, I still had work to do for the batch, and hence, my recovery had been very superficial. It took a whole Christmas break to get better, but then, there's work left unfinished.
I love the work, but I'm not feeling very good about what the work's left me: sick and pretty much alone.
I gave up things for A-Days. I gave up a lot of my free time, I gave up time studying to make meetings and practice for music. I sacrificed a shot to be a TnT a second year in a row so I could wrap up my work for a batch. Sure, I was still their friend, but I felt like I lost the right to be one of them. It sucked.
Now, I'm lost somewhat. While I love the Dayzers to bits, and that they're slowly becoming a family I don't have here at home, in school, I don't have anywhere else to go. I'm a shiftee; I don't have a block. My close friends all have lives of their own (LnK, former blockmates and even my bestest friends James and Fritz come to mind).
I don't usually think about belonging. I learned early in life that I was very different from everybody. I learned to live by myself. I'm like what my father says "truly one of males in the animal kingdom", as it's the males who live alone, and the females and children who live in packs. In essence, living alone isn't stange to me, and I take a strange pride in knowing that I work on my own terms. The problem is, everybody doesn't want to be alone forever.
I'm also very careful of who I trust. I've also come to realize that I live a life that very often forces me to make friends and then move on very suddenly, or that the friends I make have to move on too. I've got a handful of very loyal and loving friends, and I've got oodles and oodles of buddies I love to bits, but I find that I confide to only a very select few. I don't open up very easily (unless it's on printed media and I can control what others see). I don't make friends for keeps all that well, and the people I love often don't try or want look after me as much as I try or want to look after them.
Tomorrow, school starts. I'll most likely roam the corridors and encounter hundreds and hundreds of stangers. I'll see classmates again, who have their own little cliques that I've honestly no taste to be part of. I'll likely hit the library to get some stuff done for my classes that I did not get to all do over the break. I'll eat lunch on my own. I'll walk around the shops of Katips on my own. I'll run into some friends, talk to them, tell them stuff and have a blast, at least, until they have to go off and do things for themselves too. I'll do this from 7:30 AM when I get to school, and keep it up for 12 hours as I'll go home at 7:30 PM.
I don't know what I've got. I just know that when school starts tomorrow, if this keeps up I don't think I'll make it.
Lord, I beg you. Send me an angel or something. I hate being alone.
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