Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Monday, November 01, 2010
Saturday, May 01, 2010
Really, it is no joke to be a teacher. I can only relate now that I had a little experience. I am admiring more today those teachers who were really able to teach me well, because I already know how difficult it is to make everyone understand the lesson’s point. It takes both skill and passion to be able to teach well. A teacher should be hardworking and knows what she/he is teaching, yes, but more than that, a teacher should be filled with the passion to impart her knowledge but just enough to leave her students hungrier for more knowledge. I realized, over the past week, that a teacher is supposed to be in love with what she/he is teaching in order to teach students not only the lesson but the importance of the lesson. More than passing the UPCAT, I want my students to know the importance of working hard for a word problem even if it isn’t so realistic. I want my students to learn, to think, to not give up easily because this is the real lesson behind every book and every examination.
I still have two weeks in Sage, two weeks to really give my best in every learning session that I am to handle. I still have two weeks to make the students realize that it’s not about passing the UPCAT alone, it’s also about finding the joy in learning. Sage is not just about bringing your dreams a step closer to you, but it is also about making you realize what these dreams really are, for many students still don’t know what they want in their lives. I still have fourteen days to encourage and help them improve in whatever weakness they have. I have two weeks to give them the advices which worked for me, and the advices which I failed to heed three years ago.
I wish, I can inspire them... as much as my teachers were able to inspire me so much.
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
I was ‘silent’ for some reasons. My second year in college was testing all of my abilities and I need to prove myself that I can pass all my subjects and not retake anything anymore. Because of this goal, I was to do everything to comply with myself. By everything, I mean spending majority of my time in studying and solving Math problems, and also, I have to limit myself to care about the things which distract me. I was overworking myself and I just realized that now. I kept pushing that wall which creates my boundary It was both pride and self-satisfaction, and also, inspiration.so that I can turn some of my limitations to capabilities, and eventually, skills. I kept ignoring the things which make me comfortable if not happy, and one of these things is this blog. I was only looking at Math, not to expressing oneself and the addiction to words and expressions. I also tried and was able to make several posts while I was trying so hard with Math and these posts were vague and impaired and heartbroken. It was as if I only write because of my disappointments and I can’t convey happy thoughts anymore through words. Truly, I was trying too hard, so hard that it doesn’t flow naturally and continuously, so hard that instead of feeling more comfortable, it was as if I was putting myself in a little bottle. Then, I stopped writing and just chose to prioritize Math.
Meanwhile, while taking a break in writing and prioritizing Math, I was finally seeing the beauty of that ‘subject’. Little by little, it was not a simple subject anymore but an interest and then, a field which I am intertwining myself with. I don’t know when it started and when I was turning my world the opposite way but it was as if I woke up one day and realized that I am in love with Math, the subject I cursed and hate not so long ago. The realization and feeling was appropriate. After all, I was a Math major and to love the field which I am in will make my life less miserable. At least, if ever I face difficulties, there is a consolation that I love what I am doing so I’ll continue doing it even if it brings out the worst in me. While I was heading to the writing world and was looking forward to be a writer in any way, I u-turned to the opposite side which is to the numbers’ world and I was looking forward in being a Mathematician. Man, I am not in any drugs, really. It just so happen that my first and second love were opposite fields.
Now, I’m having a break from school. I am also planning to use this break to rest and rejuvenate, and bring back the passion I once lost. I’ll try my best not to try hard (what?!). I’ll try my best to stay inspired so that my posts will be a good-read in some ways and not full of heartaches or broken egos. I want to make this blog speak again, to make it contain all that I feel again and to be the catch-basin of all the memories which I never wanted to forget – the bad ones which hopefully made me wiser and the good ones which made my life worth-living. I want to breathe life into this blog again, but more importantly, I want that life to last. Because for the past months of silence, I learned that it is not about finding happiness and finding love. It is more of making those two last long, if not forever.
See you soon, blog-o-sphere!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
He lies awake all night, until the sun eats the moon away and he'll get up to start working. He cannot stop thinking about the past, the present and the future, making him all restless and unhappy while everyone snoozes… well, except her, of course. This has been his life after she decided to just meet him there. He constantly checks his mobile phone for any message from her wrongly sent to him. He waits emptily for her broken promises. He is absently hopeful to meet her again, just hanging in that desire because he knows that he cannot just throw all those memories away.
Two years of absence. Two years since she saw his dark complexion, and who can tell, maybe he is darker now, but she likes his skin tone so much. Two years since they talked about what’s up, and she’s sure that his voice is now bigger, deeper, defining his manhood. Two years since she delivered her sad goodbye. She still doesn’t know how to make her promises real, or if she has to make her promises real. Who knows, as he aged, he might lose his interests as he lost his innocence. She doesn’t know if he’s waiting for her, like she patiently does, or he’s happily living the rest of his life without her. After all, there are no signs of him, except her instincts, except her feelings, but what good are those abstracts? She needed something real, something to convince her to be true to her empty words.
He doesn’t know whether he still needs to hope, to wait, to wish secretly for her. There are no signs that she’s coming back. No messages, no letters, no missed calls. She must have forgotten her promises, for people forget the things that don’t really matter. Some days, he will wake up and go on with his life, hoping that when the nighttime comes, he will not wait anymore… because it hurts, it really does. But everything changes when he sees the stars, because her smile is bright as those little sparks. There are no signs of her, except his instincts and the voice in his head that says “What if she comes back?”, but what good are those abstracts? He needed something tangible for a fresh hope of another day. He needed something to silence the other voice which whispers, “What if she doesn’t come back?”
And it took them two years… and counting, to do the nightly routine of waiting and wishing and wanting.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Bring me some new diary… without the old scent of sunshine and longing and sweet forgiving, and I’ll try to write my life without him, without anything from him, without anything about him. Straighten the pretty stationery of those teens which know nothing about love. Make sure that the paper is of different shade, of different hue, just like my anticipated life now. Throw the key of my old little diary for no one remembers what happened, no one knows I’m already awake. Nothing should ever be the same as my bitter before. Nothing should ever be similar at some point or another. Bring me a pen and ink which doesn’t fit very well to my hand for if it does, I’ll just remember the bittersweet touch of his fingers tangling mine. And I will start sleeping all over again into that soft bed and comfortable pillows of isolation. I don’t know when I’ll wake up. I don’t know if I will ever wake up. I cannot lose the same battle twice. I just can’t.
Switch to a new song of a new beginning. Burn that mix tape. Break that music player. Destroy all of his notes, all of his painful chords. Close not just the chapter of that life but close the whole novel. Close the entire book. Tear every pages of that thing. Throw it to the fire. Never leave a thing for if you do, I might sleep again and I don’t want to be on that state of hopelessness, on that insensitivity, on that emptiness inside. Do not cure my amnesia. I want to stay this way. I don’t want those nightmares to control me again and hold me to my throat where I can hardly breathe and call for some help. I don’t want those ghosts of him to haunt me every night when it’s late and I am all alone and kill me with insomnia and excessive thinking and endless longing. Don’t allow them to see me once more. Don’t allow him to hurt me one more time. Never again… because for the long run, I feel so pathetic to run around the circles of his planet, never realizing that I am hiding from myself for he is still in my heart, in the core and essence of my being and existence. Never again… for in the long run, I feel so exhausted to sleep deeply and pretend not to be bothered or hurt or even notice but deep inside, I am all opposite. I don’t want to take those antidotes again. Never again… for in the long run, one look and one smile from him shall put me to a deep sleep again.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
This is my first and last vacation for this year. Last summer, I spent my everyday in school while last semester break, I spent it hanging like a spider in its web with books and scratch papers. Those were not vacations for something is not a vacation if it lies amidst school works. Truly, to finally realize that I’ll spend the following weeks doing only what I want and what I am not required to do makes me want to jump for joy. Hurray!
The last week of classes this 2009 really sucked all of my enthusiasm towards studies. There were exams here and there and so many activities that waits to be failed. I felt that I crossed my limits, trying to do what I cannot for the sake of staying on my course and graduating on time, and trying to put my feet on the ground when I feel like breaking into millions of pieces just to disappear and lose all the pressure. That week was crucial in a sense that everything must fall into proper places or I will again face the consequence of failing and repeating a subject. Now that the mentioned crucial week is done and vacation is sipping in, I can only cross my fingers and hope that my best was good enough to pass those examinations and not be too pressured next year. That won’t be a good start. For now, I will sleep late and wake up late and stay as idle as I can and refill my enthusiasm meter.
This vacation, I am also planning to write again, or to try writing again. I’ve read so many books this 2009 (and thanks to the people who gave me some) and unfortunately, I was not able to come up with a very satisfying post that shall reflect all of those books I’ve read. Truly, skills rust when you don’t use them or you take them for granted. Maybe it’s also one effect of Mathematics, that when you start liking Math and you start feeling that attraction towards numbers, you feel like words are too incomplete and cannot contain exact meanings, like they are all approximation. Math and English are two opposite fields that they really repel. This hiatus, I wish to regain all those precision in words. I am not anticipating to have oh-so-good posts but just to have posts again. I wish to express myself through writing again for it has really influenced the past years of my life, catching all those wanted and unwanted thoughts for future inspection. And so I am beginning right now and hopefully, I shall continue tomorrow.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
I hurried to bed as the realization came crashing over me. It was way too much for a night, way too much to allow me sleep again. So before it was too late, I lie down again, erasing all traces of hurt and expectations, thinking nothing but to be able to sleep again and not suffer a night under the waves of emotions, to dream again, to just forget everything. I should have known that I am good at it. Not at all.
As the moon reaches its shiniest, I stared at it with such painful realizations. It has always been my dream while I sleep and even when I am awake. I always wanted to fly up there and live in there, pulled by its gravity just like the tides of the earth, though it’s too much to imagine and too much to wish. The moon has always been far from my reach, just right for my stare. It has always been high up there with the millions of stars illuminating the dark sky. It has always been there allowing me to see through the night. The moon has always been beautiful and magnificent in all of its ways, standing-out and amazing. I follow its gravity more than how I do with that of the earth. However, once in my life, I watched the moon flew right in front of me. Indeed, it was a dream-come-true. Indeed, it was the happiest thing that ever happened to my life and I can still remember everything on that silent night when it came down. I thought that that was just easy. I thought that I can be with that moon as often as I want. I thought I can stare at it as long as I can but I am just under that same sky where everyone sees the same moon, and so I can’t call that moon as my own even though it flew down for me. Also, there were times when the moon is sometimes missing. Sometimes, it’s new moon and the sky is too dark that shadows are the only things that I can see. I’ll run and hide and try to fly, only to find out that there is no sign of the moon no matter how hard I try to search, only little stars which are randomly scattered to make an impression that there is still light. I’ll wait and pray and hope that the moon will soon shine and drive all my darkness away, then my prayer will be half-answered, because the moon will be half-there. Only half-there.
There was nothing special last night without that full moon. I wasn’t certain what to hope to feel that night, but I felt empty. I was empty of any hope and enthusiasm. I was empty of mirth and satisfaction. I was exactly opposite as my dream. I realized that I too, at times like this, is just half there, and the other half is staying on her dreams, playing on her fool’s paradise of make-believe.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
As a child, I have always been eager for school. I was always attentive, always excited and never lazy for it. It was something I anticipate each day. I was after finishing everything my school requires me to do and eventually, on enjoying while learning with my friends and classmates. I might even say that a part of my childhood was stolen from me by my academics. At some point while I was still very young, I felt deprived about playing outside just because I have an exam tomorrow and because I study in a private school so I shouldn’t waste my tuition fee. As I grew older, I learned to feel less deprived and more privileged. Maybe, a part of the reason behind that was because I also lost that age where playing outside was both natural and a need. I was done with that stage.
I started feeling exhausted when I was in high school. The anticipation towards exam was not anymore that high. Nervousness and crammings started to penetrate my system, too. It was fun and hassle-free at some point but whole day classes usually leave me with nothing but worn-out energy. Nevertheless, it was enough that achievements and recognitions were the fruit of every labor. In life, I must say with the little experience I have, that when the people who matters see all your efforts, it makes you re-directed, that no matter how exhausted you are, it refills all your wasted energy and makes it overflowing again. It was like that in high school – difficult but still tolerable.
Now that I am in college, that tolerable part during high school is gone and nowhere to be found. The only consolation I have is the hope that someday and somehow, all these sleepless nights and difficult mornings will bear something I desire, something I deserve. I really cannot wait to get over this particular stage where I feel so burdened. I know, I don’t have really high grades but I realized that after all, success is really a measure for one’s self and not a measure given by others. I know that overall, I am giving everything I have and I can though it’s not enough for most of the times. For me, it has always been a price to be educated. For me, it has always been a special privilege but also a great sacrifice. Like studying for tomorrow’s lesson but also losing a part of my childhood along the way that I can never retrieve. It’s a matter of seeing things in a perspective that will do you good, that will leave you at your best.
I rode the bus that shall bring me a jeepney away from my university. An hour of a very sleepy travel plus the realization that I have to try my best to endure Math and Physics again. A cup of brewed coffee for survival and to avoid yawns is what this present student life requires. Less of facebook. Less of blogspot. Less of those mouth-watering novels that is not connected with academics. More of scratch paper and photocopied readings. The joy of a suspended class and the sorrow of failing a final exam all come with it. The grief of failing one of your goals and the bliss of achieving the rest of those is what this student's real world is all about.