Of all of the four years I've stayed in the institution that I am working for, I've never felt like I want to leave more than how I feel now. I have to repeat time and again that this is probably the worst school year for me and for everyone else. A lot of changes have happened to me, and I don't like any of these changes even one bit. The only consolation that I have is the fact that I am actually trying to help young minds develop their skills and talents. That's what I am thinking about. That's the reason why I am still having the strength to go to school. Other than that, if these kids are not around, I would like to abandon my work completely. I don't want to show up at work. There are a lot of bad vibes around. Evil spirits are constantly roaming around the halls of the damned institution like heck, and I don't think that I can take it any longer.
I cannot help but complain about these things. To tell you frankly, I don't want to complain. I am tired of complaining, especially with the thought that nothing is happening, anyway. Others submissively say yes to the commands of the strong, but I don't. I believe that it's another thing to be a complete sycophant, and it's another thing to fight for your principles. I have taken the righteous road, and I think I am being defeated. I hate it.
Something has happened this morning. I don't want to elaborate on it. What I can tell you about it is the fact that I never thought that it would happen. I never thought that it would be considered as a big deal. It was not a big deal for me, but I guess it was for them. Perhaps that was one of the things I decide to deal with upon choosing the road taken by a revolutionary. I wanted change so much, and stagnation is what I get. I advocate something righteous, but it is certainly not righteous in their own merit. I guess this is what someone has to face sometimes. I still want to fight for what I believe is righteous, but what if you would lose everything that you care for in the end, anyway? It is such a tough decision to make. In fact, I don't want to do anything about it anymore, but these freaks keep on bothering me. They keep on watching my every move. They keep on watching what would I do to them.
I am assuming the role of an antagonist. Problem is, I am not an antagonist. I am an anti-hero.
I can't take it anymore. :(
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Quasi-Movie Review: 500 Days of Summer
I've always thought that I am not an ordinary girl. I don't usually wear skirts or high heels. I like wearing sneakers, jeans, and shirts. I don't like romantic movies that much. I always thought of them as corny because they always present love as something idealistic. Come on. Let's be realistic. Love does make you giddy, but it certainly does not make you smile all the time.
Perhaps that was one of the reasons why I like 500 Days of Summer. As it is said in the movie, the film is not a love story, but it's something very much connected to a love story. Thanks for Bettina for sharing the movie on Plurk. haha. :D
The story is presented in a non-linear narrative, which is oftentimes reminiscent of most independent films (which makes it more attractive for me to watch). The story revolves around Tom Hansen, who graduated with an Architecture degree but ended up writing for a greeting card company instead. There is certainly a reversal of roles in this particular movie. The stereotypical qualities of men and women are deconstructed --- Tom is someone who believes that he can never be happy unless he finds the woman that he's bound to spend his life with forever. His love interest, Summer Finn, on the other hand, believes in living the life for the moment. She does not believe in tying herself up to the idea of falling in love with just one person all throughout her life. The clash of their beliefs thus provides the driving point of their story.
The story begins as such: boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl and vice versa, but it has an extra twist. Tom is instantly smitten with the free-spirited Summer, but Summer does not seem to give the same arduous affection that she is given by Tom. Their relationship is very much characteristic of the Friendster - slash - Facebook relationship status: It's complicated. Summer admits that she is not in for anything serious, but Tom is. The complexity of their relationship and the uncertainty of whether they are boyfriend and girlfriend confuses Tom, but in the same manner, the mystery of their situation draws Tom more into Summer.
When Summer breaks up with Tom, his world crumbles down and he undergoes a deep depression, which is very familiar with men and women undergoing a break-up. He stays in his room only with some booze and junk food; he curls up in bed while feeling sorry for himself, and he abandons work. No matter what he does, he can never forget Summer. The worst thing was, she has already forgotten him. The movie shows Tom's expectation of finally finding 'the one' to the process of moving on from a break-up and eventually finding a new love. The last part of the movie is a satisfactory ending of that process of moving on.
This movie, is, by the way, a romantic comedy, if you don't know by now. Yes, I know that the plot is pretty much depressing: who would be happy for stories about break-ups, anyway? However, perhaps independent film movie goers would appreciate the fact that this movie has a very distinct quality which sets it apart from the annoying romantic comedies that mainstream movie goers are going gaga with --- it tells us the reality of breaking up. It tells us that love should not only be a fuzzy feeling. Love is not only something that you might want to connect with forever. It may also exist for the moment. Tom missed that point. He was always thinking of what may happen next with his relationship with Summer, but he forgets the fact that he is happy with her, and that's all that matters.
The style of the director, Mark Webb, is pretty much refreshing. Other critics might say that his style is a mix-match of the styles seen in other movies, but for me, it was pretty much convincing. I especially like the part when the director has presented the two sides of reality and expectation. Reality is indeed what we don't think of in the first place; we try to avoid reality because we often know that it would hurt us.
For those who haven't watched the movie, I urge you to do so, especially if you are not really into the romantic comedy genre where the boy and the girl usually end up together and living happily ever after. 500 Days of Summer had the courage to do away with this plot, which makes it even more interesting to watch than any of those Sarah Geronimo flicks.
Perhaps that was one of the reasons why I like 500 Days of Summer. As it is said in the movie, the film is not a love story, but it's something very much connected to a love story. Thanks for Bettina for sharing the movie on Plurk. haha. :D
The story is presented in a non-linear narrative, which is oftentimes reminiscent of most independent films (which makes it more attractive for me to watch). The story revolves around Tom Hansen, who graduated with an Architecture degree but ended up writing for a greeting card company instead. There is certainly a reversal of roles in this particular movie. The stereotypical qualities of men and women are deconstructed --- Tom is someone who believes that he can never be happy unless he finds the woman that he's bound to spend his life with forever. His love interest, Summer Finn, on the other hand, believes in living the life for the moment. She does not believe in tying herself up to the idea of falling in love with just one person all throughout her life. The clash of their beliefs thus provides the driving point of their story.
The story begins as such: boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl and vice versa, but it has an extra twist. Tom is instantly smitten with the free-spirited Summer, but Summer does not seem to give the same arduous affection that she is given by Tom. Their relationship is very much characteristic of the Friendster - slash - Facebook relationship status: It's complicated. Summer admits that she is not in for anything serious, but Tom is. The complexity of their relationship and the uncertainty of whether they are boyfriend and girlfriend confuses Tom, but in the same manner, the mystery of their situation draws Tom more into Summer.
When Summer breaks up with Tom, his world crumbles down and he undergoes a deep depression, which is very familiar with men and women undergoing a break-up. He stays in his room only with some booze and junk food; he curls up in bed while feeling sorry for himself, and he abandons work. No matter what he does, he can never forget Summer. The worst thing was, she has already forgotten him. The movie shows Tom's expectation of finally finding 'the one' to the process of moving on from a break-up and eventually finding a new love. The last part of the movie is a satisfactory ending of that process of moving on.
This movie, is, by the way, a romantic comedy, if you don't know by now. Yes, I know that the plot is pretty much depressing: who would be happy for stories about break-ups, anyway? However, perhaps independent film movie goers would appreciate the fact that this movie has a very distinct quality which sets it apart from the annoying romantic comedies that mainstream movie goers are going gaga with --- it tells us the reality of breaking up. It tells us that love should not only be a fuzzy feeling. Love is not only something that you might want to connect with forever. It may also exist for the moment. Tom missed that point. He was always thinking of what may happen next with his relationship with Summer, but he forgets the fact that he is happy with her, and that's all that matters.
The style of the director, Mark Webb, is pretty much refreshing. Other critics might say that his style is a mix-match of the styles seen in other movies, but for me, it was pretty much convincing. I especially like the part when the director has presented the two sides of reality and expectation. Reality is indeed what we don't think of in the first place; we try to avoid reality because we often know that it would hurt us.
For those who haven't watched the movie, I urge you to do so, especially if you are not really into the romantic comedy genre where the boy and the girl usually end up together and living happily ever after. 500 Days of Summer had the courage to do away with this plot, which makes it even more interesting to watch than any of those Sarah Geronimo flicks.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
The Power of Spontaneity
Exactly two months have passed.
I finally said it.
I am glad. I just don't know if it would be normal again.
But I do hope so. I've been in so many troubles now, and I don't think I can still handle them. :(
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Random Thoughts: On 2009
I am going to mark this year. 2009.
I really hate this year. This is an unfavorable year for me. Most of the things which are unfavorable for me have happened this freaking year of 2010.
I really want this phase to finish. I don't think that I can still manage to withstand everything. :(
A Terrible Remorse
If there is anything that I hate about a person, that is insensitivity. I have always thought that it is best to always be sensitive about the people around you because surely enough, you expect others to understand you as well, and not only you understanding them.
I was insensitive today. And I hate it, I really hate it. I hate the fact that I've always thought what to do before. I always made it a point to calculate every move that I do. I evaluate first the pros and cons of what I would do before doing something. Ask any of my friends who have known me for years and you'd probably receive tons of comments saying that I'm not a person who does things spontaneously. I always made it a point to think before I act. For all of the years of my life, I was cautious in doing every inch of everything, even to the point that it's even quite irrational.
That was what I missed doing today. And I was irrational by not doing that.
You may wonder what happened today that caused me to feel such a terrible remorse over what I did. I did something that hurt a good friend of mine. Worst thing is, I did it without even thinking of the reaction that might be given to what I've done. I guess that misconceptions are inevitable at some point. Have you ever had an instance when you teased a friend and you thought that person won't be mad at you, but what you thought was wrong? That was what happened. The worse part is, I am not a person who jokes often and yet, I cannot accept the fact that I actually did something like that. Good job, Darth. You ought to be put in a pedestal with the label, "Worst Douchebag Ever."
If there's something I learned today that I already know beforehand, but was not able to be fully aware of it before, it's this fact: no matter what you do to a person, whether it's something you think of as trivial or otherwise, that deed will affect that person in a way that you do not even know. That's why it's very important to be tactful by thinking first about what you're going to say or do.
Actually, I learned this months ago, but the difference is, I guess what I did before was not something which was offensive, but there was another problem.
But now, I blew it.
I am really sorry. :(
I was insensitive today. And I hate it, I really hate it. I hate the fact that I've always thought what to do before. I always made it a point to calculate every move that I do. I evaluate first the pros and cons of what I would do before doing something. Ask any of my friends who have known me for years and you'd probably receive tons of comments saying that I'm not a person who does things spontaneously. I always made it a point to think before I act. For all of the years of my life, I was cautious in doing every inch of everything, even to the point that it's even quite irrational.
That was what I missed doing today. And I was irrational by not doing that.
You may wonder what happened today that caused me to feel such a terrible remorse over what I did. I did something that hurt a good friend of mine. Worst thing is, I did it without even thinking of the reaction that might be given to what I've done. I guess that misconceptions are inevitable at some point. Have you ever had an instance when you teased a friend and you thought that person won't be mad at you, but what you thought was wrong? That was what happened. The worse part is, I am not a person who jokes often and yet, I cannot accept the fact that I actually did something like that. Good job, Darth. You ought to be put in a pedestal with the label, "Worst Douchebag Ever."
If there's something I learned today that I already know beforehand, but was not able to be fully aware of it before, it's this fact: no matter what you do to a person, whether it's something you think of as trivial or otherwise, that deed will affect that person in a way that you do not even know. That's why it's very important to be tactful by thinking first about what you're going to say or do.
Actually, I learned this months ago, but the difference is, I guess what I did before was not something which was offensive, but there was another problem.
But now, I blew it.
I am really sorry. :(
Monday, November 02, 2009
Random Thoughts: November 1 - 2 2009 + sometime in October, 2009
I am sick. I reckon that it's because of the cold, strong, rough winds of the typhoon Santi last Saturday. I was feeling fine last Saturday until the weather became really cold. I caught a terrible cold last Saturday plus I hate the fact that the power supply has not gotten back yet up to this date. You wonder how in the world I am able to blog, though? It's because of a super-duper long extension cord that my father came up with. Right now, my aunt, grandmother and I are mere parasites when it comes to electric supply. Ugh.
Anyway, about the electric supply, I called up Meralco for about five or six times, and all they could tell me is that they will have a follow-up about our complaint. It turned out that our neighbors, except for three, have all of their electric supply back to their houses at Saturday evening. The post where our line was supposed to be connected is freakin' broken, and I don't heck know when will our power supply be back.
That scenario adds up to my utter desperation.
Well, I am not really here to rant about the fact that Meralco has been treating us with severe apathy, because I have had enough of that. I'm just going to tell you what happened so far, although I know for a fact that this is not even a bit interesting for anyone of you.
October 29, 2009 - Thursday
We went to Joyce's debut. There's nothing much to talk about here since we went home early, andI was sitting with some folks I'd rather not sit with (OMG, here we go again)
October 30, 2009 - Friday
The particular events which happened during this day are all mentioned in the controversial Facebook note. If you are not my Facebook pal, then too bad. You will not be experiencing one of my worst rants ever. Well, I don't think that you want to experience it, anyway.
October 31, 2009 - Saturday
I am beginning to be sick, literally and figuratively.
November 1, 2009 - Sunday
Ah, finally, a concrete narration about something.
I finished the grades yesterday while using the power supply of my uncle. I admit that I am feeling a little bit awkward, though. I never would like to use other people's resources on my own, as much as possible. But I guess since the reality is that we do not have a power supply, I guess my uncle understands it anyway.
Yes, I have been sick since yesterday (but admittedly, I am more sick today, that's why my adrenalin is pushing my writing skills to the limits), but I still went to the cemetery to visit my grandfather, who passed away since I was several months old.
My grandfather's grave
On the way to Love Memorial, my aunt and I happened to ride the bus with an old friend (name withheld, for fear that he might search his name on the net). This person, whom we'll just call RJ (first name and last) was my classmate when I was still in Preperatory, in Secret Academy of the Magical and the Mysterious or more popularly (?) known as the oh-so-defunct Jimel Academy, where I studied during my elementary and high school years. One of my best friends, Irene, cannot remember him in any possible way. When I told her that I saw this guy, she was like, "Di ko talaga matandaan ang taong yun" while I, on the other hand, can vividly remember him like heck. Well, maybe it lies on the fact that he was my childhood crush. hahaha.
Well, anyway, yes, his mother talked to my aunt. He sat in the front seat of the bus while his mother sat behind us. His mother said, "Yan ba yung kaklase ni RJ noon," to which my aunt replied, "Yes." I didn't know that his family spoke Chabacano too until his mother spoke at us that afternoon.
That was the only conversation that happened. I didn't talk to him, because I am afraid that he does not remember me, or I might be labeled as, well, one of those girls whose descriptions I'd rather not be associated with (a coquette). However, seeing and meeting with a remnant of the past made memories flash in my mind again, like heck. For instance, would he remember how we played with Tootsie Roll and made it appear like poo? I don't think so. People forget the times they've spent with their childhood pals once they grow up. Only a few people remember, and what they remember remains just a fragment of the past. These fragments can never be whole. People remember them in one way or another, but they can never preserve a whole, concrete memory of the past.
Nakanang. Emo.
There was a huge traffic yesterday, as usual. We arrived at past five, and stayed there until about six, because I was already feeling terribly sick. As a form of entertainment, these vagrants performed a VERY ENTERTAINING AND EMOTIONAL dance which I captured on cam:
Yes, I exploited them. Forgive me.
Nothing much to look forward to when we came home, because there was still no power supply. This is terrible.
Will write again later, if my creativity permits me to.
Anyway, about the electric supply, I called up Meralco for about five or six times, and all they could tell me is that they will have a follow-up about our complaint. It turned out that our neighbors, except for three, have all of their electric supply back to their houses at Saturday evening. The post where our line was supposed to be connected is freakin' broken, and I don't heck know when will our power supply be back.
That scenario adds up to my utter desperation.
Well, I am not really here to rant about the fact that Meralco has been treating us with severe apathy, because I have had enough of that. I'm just going to tell you what happened so far, although I know for a fact that this is not even a bit interesting for anyone of you.
October 29, 2009 - Thursday
We went to Joyce's debut. There's nothing much to talk about here since we went home early, and
October 30, 2009 - Friday
The particular events which happened during this day are all mentioned in the controversial Facebook note. If you are not my Facebook pal, then too bad. You will not be experiencing one of my worst rants ever. Well, I don't think that you want to experience it, anyway.
October 31, 2009 - Saturday
I am beginning to be sick, literally and figuratively.
November 1, 2009 - Sunday
Ah, finally, a concrete narration about something.
I finished the grades yesterday while using the power supply of my uncle. I admit that I am feeling a little bit awkward, though. I never would like to use other people's resources on my own, as much as possible. But I guess since the reality is that we do not have a power supply, I guess my uncle understands it anyway.
Yes, I have been sick since yesterday (but admittedly, I am more sick today, that's why my adrenalin is pushing my writing skills to the limits), but I still went to the cemetery to visit my grandfather, who passed away since I was several months old.
My grandfather's graveOn the way to Love Memorial, my aunt and I happened to ride the bus with an old friend (name withheld, for fear that he might search his name on the net). This person, whom we'll just call RJ (first name and last) was my classmate when I was still in Preperatory, in Secret Academy of the Magical and the Mysterious or more popularly (?) known as the oh-so-defunct Jimel Academy, where I studied during my elementary and high school years. One of my best friends, Irene, cannot remember him in any possible way. When I told her that I saw this guy, she was like, "Di ko talaga matandaan ang taong yun" while I, on the other hand, can vividly remember him like heck. Well, maybe it lies on the fact that he was my childhood crush. hahaha.
Well, anyway, yes, his mother talked to my aunt. He sat in the front seat of the bus while his mother sat behind us. His mother said, "Yan ba yung kaklase ni RJ noon," to which my aunt replied, "Yes." I didn't know that his family spoke Chabacano too until his mother spoke at us that afternoon.
That was the only conversation that happened. I didn't talk to him, because I am afraid that he does not remember me, or I might be labeled as, well, one of those girls whose descriptions I'd rather not be associated with (a coquette). However, seeing and meeting with a remnant of the past made memories flash in my mind again, like heck. For instance, would he remember how we played with Tootsie Roll and made it appear like poo? I don't think so. People forget the times they've spent with their childhood pals once they grow up. Only a few people remember, and what they remember remains just a fragment of the past. These fragments can never be whole. People remember them in one way or another, but they can never preserve a whole, concrete memory of the past.
Nakanang. Emo.
There was a huge traffic yesterday, as usual. We arrived at past five, and stayed there until about six, because I was already feeling terribly sick. As a form of entertainment, these vagrants performed a VERY ENTERTAINING AND EMOTIONAL dance which I captured on cam:
Yes, I exploited them. Forgive me. Nothing much to look forward to when we came home, because there was still no power supply. This is terrible.
Will write again later, if my creativity permits me to.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Random Thoughts: Sometime in October... That I Couldn't Remember
After a few months that I haven't written a thing (or perhaps did write some things, but they are very succinctly written, and in a gibberish manner, even) I actually found time to write a blog entry about the things that happened for these past few weeks. I could barely remember when they happened, why they happened, or sort of things like that, so if you could bare with me with my irrelevantly chronological narration of things, I would appreciate that a lot.
First: Going to Former Students' Dorm
I think it was my second to the last week in UST when Addah texted me, saying that she wants us to meet along with my other former students who are also Thomasians. I got excited by that fact. I don't know why, but for me, there is always a hint of excitement whenever I see my former students around. Perhaps seeing them gives me an idea that after faltering in the search for the familiar, there are still things which haven't changed, and that's what they are.
I even ran late for my meeting with Addah that Saturday because my classmates and I still had to photocopy some things for our Teaching Reading and Writing class. Our professor said that all of the things that have been reported by our classmates and discussed in a snap by our professor herself have to be included in the exam. I felt like giving up just thinking of the amount of workload and reviewing I had to do for that particular final exam. Ugh.
After finally having the stuff photocopied, Addah and I met by the Benavides Library and we went to their dorm. I thought that we'd still ride a jeep or something, but it turned out that their dorm was just across the street. At the instant I went inside their dorm, thoughts of college flashed into my mind again like heck. I remember my days as a college student -- messy rooms with books, socks, uniforms here and there. They were all coming back to me at that point.
Kamille was there when Addah and I came. Joyce came a few minutes after, and we all talked about random stuff for more than an hour. That was fun. It was really surreal that I was talking with the people I used to instruct not as students, but more like a friend or a sister. That was really something.
I went back to the Benavides Library to research about stuff after going to their dorm. It was back to normal life where I had to face the books that I resent reading for the time being, but nevertheless, I have to study.
Second: It's something I'd rather not talk about publicly, so I'd talk gibberish again.
People do some things unexpectedly, causing you to think again about what they have done although you know for a fact that it probably does not mean anything to them after all.
Third: Last Day as a Thomasian for the Moment
I had my last day as an enrolled Thomasian two Saturdays ago. I had that exam that I was dreading to take. As I expected, the exam was darn hard. There were a hundred items of 'Accept and Reject' (much like True or False) and then another hundred points for essay items. I felt like I was taking a bar exam cramped into three freaking hours. I also passed my project (which didn't make sense, in my opinion) and I left my professor a note which says:
I wrote that at the last page of my exam. I know she has read that for sure. I hope to pass that subject. Cross all of my fingers and toes. Ugh.
My college pal, Kate, texted me and said that she wanted to meet me in UST. I agreed with it because the last time I saw her was about three years ago. I guess something like that is inevitable once you finish college --- friends rarely meet. You call and text each other, but it would be a rare occurrence for you to meet.
While I was waiting for her, I got bored and took pictures around campus instead:
When Kate came, we managed to talk about a lot of stuff which we didn't have time to when we talk or text on the phone. I miss the old times when we just hang around FEU either talking about literature or looking for cute boys who would occasionally come around (haha). We do not do the latter activity anymore, but it seems quite interesting to have everything back the way it was before. However, we all know that we can't. Everything remains just a figment of our memories.
Fourth: Annoying Some People Again
Yes, I've included this in a Facebook note. I won't post it here, for fear that they might say that I am antagonistic again.
I'll write again sometime. My nose is dripping like heck.
First: Going to Former Students' Dorm
I think it was my second to the last week in UST when Addah texted me, saying that she wants us to meet along with my other former students who are also Thomasians. I got excited by that fact. I don't know why, but for me, there is always a hint of excitement whenever I see my former students around. Perhaps seeing them gives me an idea that after faltering in the search for the familiar, there are still things which haven't changed, and that's what they are.
I even ran late for my meeting with Addah that Saturday because my classmates and I still had to photocopy some things for our Teaching Reading and Writing class. Our professor said that all of the things that have been reported by our classmates and discussed in a snap by our professor herself have to be included in the exam. I felt like giving up just thinking of the amount of workload and reviewing I had to do for that particular final exam. Ugh.
After finally having the stuff photocopied, Addah and I met by the Benavides Library and we went to their dorm. I thought that we'd still ride a jeep or something, but it turned out that their dorm was just across the street. At the instant I went inside their dorm, thoughts of college flashed into my mind again like heck. I remember my days as a college student -- messy rooms with books, socks, uniforms here and there. They were all coming back to me at that point.
Kamille was there when Addah and I came. Joyce came a few minutes after, and we all talked about random stuff for more than an hour. That was fun. It was really surreal that I was talking with the people I used to instruct not as students, but more like a friend or a sister. That was really something.
I went back to the Benavides Library to research about stuff after going to their dorm. It was back to normal life where I had to face the books that I resent reading for the time being, but nevertheless, I have to study.
Second: It's something I'd rather not talk about publicly, so I'd talk gibberish again.
People do some things unexpectedly, causing you to think again about what they have done although you know for a fact that it probably does not mean anything to them after all.
Third: Last Day as a Thomasian for the Moment
I had my last day as an enrolled Thomasian two Saturdays ago. I had that exam that I was dreading to take. As I expected, the exam was darn hard. There were a hundred items of 'Accept and Reject' (much like True or False) and then another hundred points for essay items. I felt like I was taking a bar exam cramped into three freaking hours. I also passed my project (which didn't make sense, in my opinion) and I left my professor a note which says:
Dear Prof. Orillos:
I tried my best to contact (insert name of damn groupmate here), but to no avail, he didn't come to school anymore. I hope that you would still give me a considerable grade even though I didn't work collaboratively with a group member.
PS. Thanks for being our professor. :)
I wrote that at the last page of my exam. I know she has read that for sure. I hope to pass that subject. Cross all of my fingers and toes. Ugh.
My college pal, Kate, texted me and said that she wanted to meet me in UST. I agreed with it because the last time I saw her was about three years ago. I guess something like that is inevitable once you finish college --- friends rarely meet. You call and text each other, but it would be a rare occurrence for you to meet.
While I was waiting for her, I got bored and took pictures around campus instead:
When Kate came, we managed to talk about a lot of stuff which we didn't have time to when we talk or text on the phone. I miss the old times when we just hang around FEU either talking about literature or looking for cute boys who would occasionally come around (haha). We do not do the latter activity anymore, but it seems quite interesting to have everything back the way it was before. However, we all know that we can't. Everything remains just a figment of our memories.
Fourth: Annoying Some People Again
Yes, I've included this in a Facebook note. I won't post it here, for fear that they might say that I am antagonistic again.
I'll write again sometime. My nose is dripping like heck.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Searching for the Familiar (allegorical)
I have been missing a lot of things for the past few weeks now. I guess it's inevitable that people change. Things change. You just can't get hold of what you have for the moment and keep it forever with you. Time will come when you just have to accept the fact that you cannot live with the things you used to do and you used to have anymore.
And yes, you have to let go.
What depresses me most is my search for the familiar. I search for familiar, reassuring smiles. I search for hearty laughs. I search for intellectual conversations. I search for absurd conversations which ironically make sense. I search for that same fervor to fight for something worth fighting for.
But I can't find them anywhere. If ever I find one of these things, they remain all but bits and pieces of what used to be familiar. But chances are, I could not find anything familiar anymore. Everything is alienated from my own self. There are certainly no more of that stupid, sensible laughs, intellectual conversations, absurdity and the other familiar things I grew up with four years ago. All I could find today are empty, senseless talks, meaningless jokes which remain absurd and nothing more, increased desire for luxury, self-sufficiency and self-love, heightened state of madness for nothing else but romantic conquests, and averted glances of those who used to be one of the closest people with you.
Nothing more, nothing more.
And with that, I am still searching for the familiar. I am still hoping that beyond the superficiality of familiar unfamiliar people around, I will still take hold of what was it like before.
I am fearing that I might falter in my search for the familiar, though. :(
And yes, you have to let go.
What depresses me most is my search for the familiar. I search for familiar, reassuring smiles. I search for hearty laughs. I search for intellectual conversations. I search for absurd conversations which ironically make sense. I search for that same fervor to fight for something worth fighting for.
But I can't find them anywhere. If ever I find one of these things, they remain all but bits and pieces of what used to be familiar. But chances are, I could not find anything familiar anymore. Everything is alienated from my own self. There are certainly no more of that stupid, sensible laughs, intellectual conversations, absurdity and the other familiar things I grew up with four years ago. All I could find today are empty, senseless talks, meaningless jokes which remain absurd and nothing more, increased desire for luxury, self-sufficiency and self-love, heightened state of madness for nothing else but romantic conquests, and averted glances of those who used to be one of the closest people with you.
Nothing more, nothing more.
And with that, I am still searching for the familiar. I am still hoping that beyond the superficiality of familiar unfamiliar people around, I will still take hold of what was it like before.
I am fearing that I might falter in my search for the familiar, though. :(
Sunday, October 25, 2009
When Thoughts of Freedom Come Into Mind
I have finally finished one semester in UST, but I don't know if I passed or not. In all of my years studying, never did I come to a point where I doubted if I will pass. That is, until now. There is a great deal of doubt looming over my ever pessimistic stance, thinking that I might fall short of my expectations.
But anyway, I passed every requirement that my professors were asking, and I was never absent in class. I am hoping for at least a passing grade. I don't even hope for that honor roll thing the way I aimed for in my whole life. My only aim now is to pass. I'll get the good grades later, once I get out of this figurative prison I am in.
Hence, the title of this FB note: When thoughts of freedom come into mind.
Of all the years that I have stayed in this school, this year ought to be one of the most controversial ones. I need not explain the nitty gritty events that are happening, but every employee in the school probably feels that way. Everything that has been happening right now in school can somehow be likened to an apt conclusion in a telenovela. Let me enumerate to you the instances why:
I can think of more, but my mind cannot process these thoughts into concrete words. Darn writer's block.
But anyway, you know what? I reckoned that there is absolutely nothing wrong with my job, neither do I hate it. I love teaching, but there's just something in this environment that is not conducive to anyone's prowess, so to speak. The higher-ups, perhaps?
Exactly.
What's funny is that I keep on thinking where would I go or what would I do at the end of these last five months. I still have some unfinished business to do, as indicated in my list in "25 Things to do before leaving A*toot*" Never in my life have I felt wanting so much as badly as I want it now.
Anyway, I tell my self not to be too hasty. Five more months before the climax finally blends into a perfect resolution. What's happening now is not even close to a denouement.
I'll write in detail next week.
But anyway, I passed every requirement that my professors were asking, and I was never absent in class. I am hoping for at least a passing grade. I don't even hope for that honor roll thing the way I aimed for in my whole life. My only aim now is to pass. I'll get the good grades later, once I get out of this figurative prison I am in.
Hence, the title of this FB note: When thoughts of freedom come into mind.
Of all the years that I have stayed in this school, this year ought to be one of the most controversial ones. I need not explain the nitty gritty events that are happening, but every employee in the school probably feels that way. Everything that has been happening right now in school can somehow be likened to an apt conclusion in a telenovela. Let me enumerate to you the instances why:
1. Some of the main characters' lives are put in danger. Not in real danger, like someone's going to assassinate him/her or whatsoever, but it's more of a threat in an abstract form.
2. New characters have been introduced. Some characters play a significant, active role in the culmination of the whole event. The others serve as mere spectators.
3. Old characters, whom you often thought of as protagonists, now appear menacingly. The protagonists realized that a friend is now a foe, or a lover an enemy, sort of like that.
4. The antagonists come in full force, with new antagonists on tow. They now shout a big "bwahahahahaaha" with matching annoying laugh, ala Count Dracula in Sesame Street.
5. The protagonists put their lives in danger for a noble cause.
6. Revelations are everywhere, ranging from personal to business matters. To give you an idea, these might help: in soap operas, a mother knows that her child is not really her son, or the protagonist is facing a deadly, incurable disease. Something like that.
7. The idea of revenge seems to be a very convenient idea, on the part of the protagonist.
I can think of more, but my mind cannot process these thoughts into concrete words. Darn writer's block.
But anyway, you know what? I reckoned that there is absolutely nothing wrong with my job, neither do I hate it. I love teaching, but there's just something in this environment that is not conducive to anyone's prowess, so to speak. The higher-ups, perhaps?
Exactly.
What's funny is that I keep on thinking where would I go or what would I do at the end of these last five months. I still have some unfinished business to do, as indicated in my list in "25 Things to do before leaving A*toot*" Never in my life have I felt wanting so much as badly as I want it now.
Anyway, I tell my self not to be too hasty. Five more months before the climax finally blends into a perfect resolution. What's happening now is not even close to a denouement.
I'll write in detail next week.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Of Work and Self-Confidence
I just printed out my project to be passed in Contemporary Literary Theory. It turned out that we all had to pass it on an earlier date because our professor's secretary would not be in school on Saturday. I wanted to complain about that because I have to be absent in work this Friday (at least for a half day) just to pass my project. And then I have to go back on Saturday to pass another project and take the examinations for another subject. Ugh.
I edited some points in the work that I did. Prof. Dimalanta (yes, THE Dimalanta who won tons of awards and stuff) is my professor, and I don't think that my work can pass her standards. I guess one of my failures would always be literary criticism, since that was also my disqualifying grade when I was in college (gee whiz, thanks, Sir Herbert). But anyway, you know that feeling that you want to be assured that your work is fine, but you are void of any other logical responses because you think that it's not that good? That's what I am feeling as of the moment.
To tell you frankly, I wasn't like this before. I always believed that my writings could somehow be equal to those who are practicing their craft in real life. I always believed that I was a born writer, and I could write about anything at all if you asked me to. I always believed that I have more than average grammar skills. How come all of my self-confidence has been flushed down, down the drain?
It's because of some people. It's because of them. They robbed me off of my sheer belief that I am quite good, and my work can be comparable with that of a regular writer. I know that I should not even say any of this out of contempt for what they have done most likely to most of their employees, but I attest that they have a way of really getting your self-confidence out of your system as they trample on it on the floor with their bare feet. As one of my co-teachers have said (of course, she has also been out of the institution for several months now), her skills have deteriorated. This is ironic, of course, considering the fact that she works as a teacher and she uses these skills to improve the skills of others. However, I can testify to what she said. These people really have a way of pulling you down rather than pulling you up. Now that really sucks.
I feel that my skills are also deteriorating.
So, if ever I keep on ranting at Plurk about how I fear failing that subject, please bear with me. It's just that all of the things happening to me right now are too much for me to handle. This is the price I have to pay by not being an underdog.
I need a dose of optimism.
I edited some points in the work that I did. Prof. Dimalanta (yes, THE Dimalanta who won tons of awards and stuff) is my professor, and I don't think that my work can pass her standards. I guess one of my failures would always be literary criticism, since that was also my disqualifying grade when I was in college (gee whiz, thanks, Sir Herbert). But anyway, you know that feeling that you want to be assured that your work is fine, but you are void of any other logical responses because you think that it's not that good? That's what I am feeling as of the moment.
To tell you frankly, I wasn't like this before. I always believed that my writings could somehow be equal to those who are practicing their craft in real life. I always believed that I was a born writer, and I could write about anything at all if you asked me to. I always believed that I have more than average grammar skills. How come all of my self-confidence has been flushed down, down the drain?
It's because of some people. It's because of them. They robbed me off of my sheer belief that I am quite good, and my work can be comparable with that of a regular writer. I know that I should not even say any of this out of contempt for what they have done most likely to most of their employees, but I attest that they have a way of really getting your self-confidence out of your system as they trample on it on the floor with their bare feet. As one of my co-teachers have said (of course, she has also been out of the institution for several months now), her skills have deteriorated. This is ironic, of course, considering the fact that she works as a teacher and she uses these skills to improve the skills of others. However, I can testify to what she said. These people really have a way of pulling you down rather than pulling you up. Now that really sucks.
I feel that my skills are also deteriorating.
So, if ever I keep on ranting at Plurk about how I fear failing that subject, please bear with me. It's just that all of the things happening to me right now are too much for me to handle. This is the price I have to pay by not being an underdog.
I need a dose of optimism.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Random Rant (yes, I didn't abide with the blog leave thing)
I admit that some things are bothering me right now. That is why I couldn't crack up a smile or two. That is why you often see me staring blankly at nowhere. That is why I often sigh deeply as if something really bad has happened. To tell you frankly, I don't even like feeling these things. I don't like sighing; I don't like ranting about this matter. But it seems that everywhere I go, the thoughts of some things which are bothering me follow me. They won't leave me alone. I see them everywhere. People talk about these things everywhere at work. I am living in the dilemma, which all started in doomsday about several months ago.
I often think that there it would be futile to think about these problems, but I can't. I don't know if you know what I mean. Can you imagine the feeling of an upset stomach? You know, the one which makes you feel that you want to drop your load off somewhere just so you would have a better feeling. Out with the constipation, in with the relief. Something like that.
However, unlike an upset stomach, you cannot simply do away with something that bothers you. If you are either an optimist or perhaps an apathetic person, you would simply let these things pass away. If you are a regular feeling, thinking person equipped with rationality but you fail to apply rational thoughts most of the time, it would be a big problem. Unlike an upset stomach, the problem now becomes a part of you, like a scar which stays until you grow.
This is one of the things that I hate about growing up. Everything has to be complex. Things were simpler than before. However, how could I expect to grow as an individual if I do not undergo these terrible thoughts which ruin my positive perceptions about some things?
I often think that there it would be futile to think about these problems, but I can't. I don't know if you know what I mean. Can you imagine the feeling of an upset stomach? You know, the one which makes you feel that you want to drop your load off somewhere just so you would have a better feeling. Out with the constipation, in with the relief. Something like that.
However, unlike an upset stomach, you cannot simply do away with something that bothers you. If you are either an optimist or perhaps an apathetic person, you would simply let these things pass away. If you are a regular feeling, thinking person equipped with rationality but you fail to apply rational thoughts most of the time, it would be a big problem. Unlike an upset stomach, the problem now becomes a part of you, like a scar which stays until you grow.
This is one of the things that I hate about growing up. Everything has to be complex. Things were simpler than before. However, how could I expect to grow as an individual if I do not undergo these terrible thoughts which ruin my positive perceptions about some things?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Indefinite Blog Leave
I have to do this. Or else.
As of October 11, 2009, I declare my indefinite blog leave. As you all know, I am currently on my way to finish my first ever semester as a graduate student. I need to pass my two classes desperately, if that's how you want to term it.
I admit that this school year has not been good to me at any rate. It has caused me a lot of problems, troubles and pains that I could not withstand, in a way that everything, including periods of sudden annoyance and despair, are manifested outwardly through my mood. I'd like to tell you that it only has very little to do with the things happening to me in Grad School. However, it has a lot to do with the hell other people have caused me at work.
On the other hand, this is something to look forward to:
I was one of those who got a high score in our exam about a month ago in one of my subjects. No one got a perfect score. No one was able to finish the exam, and a lot of people drastically failed. Well, actually, no one got a grade higher than 84, I think. My grade is as low (not high) as those who are already in their PhD levels, and I didn't really expect it. I thought that I'd even fail that darn exam, because it was too darn long and too darn hard. It was just too overwhelming. :)
Now, I have to finish a project on that subject, and I had to contact my groupmate and ask him to do the project with me, since it is a collaborative project, according to my professor. The problem is, I have already talked with him, and he told me that he had intentions of not attending that subject anymore, so I'm starting to work on the project on my own. However, my professor said that I still have to reach out to him. Ugh. That's one of the reasons why I hate doing group projects with members who are indefinitely absent from time to time.
The other subject was as tough as well. We have to make an eight-page literary criticism paper concentrating on one theory. We could discuss any work that we want to, whether it belongs to a foreign or local writer. However, I don't think that I could write at par with most of my classes. I am but a premature talent, but what the heck, I'll do the best that I can.
And with those reasons, I am opting not to blog, and if possible, not to open my Facebook account for several days, until I get through this semester. With that, this is Darth, signing off. :)
As of October 11, 2009, I declare my indefinite blog leave. As you all know, I am currently on my way to finish my first ever semester as a graduate student. I need to pass my two classes desperately, if that's how you want to term it.
I admit that this school year has not been good to me at any rate. It has caused me a lot of problems, troubles and pains that I could not withstand, in a way that everything, including periods of sudden annoyance and despair, are manifested outwardly through my mood. I'd like to tell you that it only has very little to do with the things happening to me in Grad School. However, it has a lot to do with the hell other people have caused me at work.
On the other hand, this is something to look forward to:
A low score I am proud of. Lol. :))
I was one of those who got a high score in our exam about a month ago in one of my subjects. No one got a perfect score. No one was able to finish the exam, and a lot of people drastically failed. Well, actually, no one got a grade higher than 84, I think. My grade is as low (not high) as those who are already in their PhD levels, and I didn't really expect it. I thought that I'd even fail that darn exam, because it was too darn long and too darn hard. It was just too overwhelming. :)
Now, I have to finish a project on that subject, and I had to contact my groupmate and ask him to do the project with me, since it is a collaborative project, according to my professor. The problem is, I have already talked with him, and he told me that he had intentions of not attending that subject anymore, so I'm starting to work on the project on my own. However, my professor said that I still have to reach out to him. Ugh. That's one of the reasons why I hate doing group projects with members who are indefinitely absent from time to time.
The other subject was as tough as well. We have to make an eight-page literary criticism paper concentrating on one theory. We could discuss any work that we want to, whether it belongs to a foreign or local writer. However, I don't think that I could write at par with most of my classes. I am but a premature talent, but what the heck, I'll do the best that I can.
And with those reasons, I am opting not to blog, and if possible, not to open my Facebook account for several days, until I get through this semester. With that, this is Darth, signing off. :)
Friday, October 09, 2009
Of Studies (Title Derived from Francis Bacon's Essay)
Studying has been a value that I live up with ever since I was young. I love studying. There is a certain delight that I cannot really comprehend whenever I fill my mind with interesting thoughts from books or otherwise. I feel my senses tingle as I dissect every word with the comprehension that my mind can handle. After that, my hands eventually move, glide, towards the blank paper (or, most likely during this point in time a blank Word document).
I love studying. It has been my passion to let my mind wander into different heights that I can even barely imagine. Studying does that to me. I feel an inexplicable delight whenever I learn a new word or a new idea that will yet occupy my mind for years, because I learn to put these thoughts into good use. I even loved numbers before, even though it is quite hard to believe that once, I had an affair with these shapeless numbers which turn themselves into more shapeless entities of the objective mind.
However, I begin to wonder. How come that studying does not appeal to me in the same manner as it did when I was in my juvenile years? How come that cracking open a book seems like an endless torture to me, and starting a project five months old seems like eternity? How come that words meant to be used to shape productive thoughts stay in the recesses of the mind quite longer than I expected? How come that words flow effortlessly and beautifully in the course of this rather unimportant blog entry and yet, it would rarely come and easily go when I do the most daunting tasks of school work?
It is a wonder, indeed. It is a wonder.
I guess I have to stop now. My project is waiting for me in another window.
I love studying. It has been my passion to let my mind wander into different heights that I can even barely imagine. Studying does that to me. I feel an inexplicable delight whenever I learn a new word or a new idea that will yet occupy my mind for years, because I learn to put these thoughts into good use. I even loved numbers before, even though it is quite hard to believe that once, I had an affair with these shapeless numbers which turn themselves into more shapeless entities of the objective mind.
However, I begin to wonder. How come that studying does not appeal to me in the same manner as it did when I was in my juvenile years? How come that cracking open a book seems like an endless torture to me, and starting a project five months old seems like eternity? How come that words meant to be used to shape productive thoughts stay in the recesses of the mind quite longer than I expected? How come that words flow effortlessly and beautifully in the course of this rather unimportant blog entry and yet, it would rarely come and easily go when I do the most daunting tasks of school work?
It is a wonder, indeed. It is a wonder.
I guess I have to stop now. My project is waiting for me in another window.
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