Saturday, February 28, 2009

Summer is Coming but Vacation isn't

Summer is coming. It’s roughly a month from now and I’ll say that the second semester is done. Honestly, I don’t know what to feel and how to act accordingly. This is a hopeless case of a drama queen trying to find the perfect lines to make her audience symphatize with her.

First of all, I won’t be having a formal vacation. I’ll be having a summer classes: the price I have to pay for not studying my Math lessons and taking for granted those examinations I badly needed to pass. My blog has been an evidence of those days I spent just slacking around or writing senseless stuffs instead of dealing with numbers. That means two things. First, I’ll still be staying on the university and in my dormitory while a normal student is staying on his/her home, sleeping early and getting up late, no Calculus stuff, no deadlines, just reading a pocket book and no projects to pass. Second, that doesn’t sound that fun.

While my other classmates are counting the days so that they’ll finally put an end to the second hell semester, I am counting the days that I’ll be having this genuine smile I have in me. The truth is, I want to rest but I don’t want the second semester to end. This is exactly the same feeling I had after the first semester has officially ended: uncertain about my own emotions. By now, I am imagining how my days will run: no beach party for summer, no overnight stays in Baguio, no I-can-stay-awake-all-night-because-there’s-nothing-to-do-tomorrow days. What I’ll have are lines which runs thus “Sorry I can’t join you tonight because I have a class tomorrow”, and missed opportunities. Everything seems to give me a sigh.

I know. I still got almost a month to enjoy what I have and make the most out of it. A month seems to be a long time but I notice that days seem to fly that easily. Days seem to rush themselves like yesterday was Monday and now it’s Saturday. I am still astonished whenever I think about how fast is everything. I am not yet enrolled on my summer classes. I am still not a hundred percent certain that I’ll be taking that failed subject again yet I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that it is already April and I am having a battle against sleepiness while my professor is in his climax of antiderivatives and word problems. As much as possible, I don’t want to have any regrets like I wasn’t able to make the most of what I have. Well, who wants that? I don’t want to commit those same mistakes. I am convincing myself now that a little of sacrifice is very helpful and that it can lead into something which I will be forever thankful for. I am convincing myself now that summer classes won’t hurt my ego although it will deprive me of things like vacation and relaxation. I am fooling myself once more.

Enough for this post. I am making the atmosphere here heavy again. Maybe this is just a product of stress and inner fright. I must admit, I am too exhausted to make a post. I just don’t want to mark an end to my February with just nineteen posts. I need it to be at least twenty. Perhaps, after I finish what I need to accomplish, I will be writing about better and lighter things.

Dearest readers, thank you for bearing with my insanity!

Monday, February 23, 2009

My Week: A Flyover

Done with the worst part of my week and the absolute minimum. Haven’t we are all told that things will end up alright? Well, for the longest time, it did once more. The quote doesn’t seem to fail me at all. The latter part of Friday was the highlight of my week. I felt that I was really TOO immature for acting the way I did. I was close-minded and was too obnoxious. I did not know what was happening and I just minded myself. I was too blinded that others do have their own dilemmas too and while I was busy setting up my little drama, they are dealing with bigger things. I felt that I was the one who pained myself. I was the one who made myself suffer. Instead of helping myself, I only made things bigger. Good thing that communication never failed to connect ties. I am glad that things were resolved and I ended up eating the food I craved for, having a mango shake that contributed to my happiness and listening to songs which have special meanings in my life. I am glad that I was able to see that smile again from the one who gives me the smiles too. We went to the mall and shared conversations and petty jokes there. I must say that I miss that kind of Friday, the kind which reminds me that the week may seem cruel but it will still end blissful and the kind that drives me to the expression “TGIF!”. That Friday made me feel like home. It’s good to be back on track and be ready for whatever it is that is yet to come.

Saturday was again concerned about friendship. I went to a formal gathering with jeans, shirt, slippers, headband and powder. I was different in a sense that everyone spent hours curling their hair and I just combed it after leaving the jeepney. I wasn’t ashamed or any of the like. If I was, I won’t be writing about that here. I was confident that I will still feel the sense of belongingness in that crowd where people are wearing gowns and drinking cocktails. Fortunately, I did. I don’t know what’s with me. I guess, I was just determined to prove everyone that I don’t need to dress like a princess to be one and it’s not the attention that I am hungry for. I was actually after the thought of returning to a place which once taught me about the realities of life. I just wanted to visit the place I once called home and express them a little gratitude of where I am now. After all, Rhaingel won’t be Rhaingel without them.

I shake my stress away by jiving into that music played by the DJ. I was partying like a true irresponsible teenager does but the difference is that my mom knows where I am and what I was planning to do and she approved of it. After the clock strikes one, I decided to leave the party and head back home. All of my former classmates went to an overnight stay. I did not join, for the first time and I went home with them behind shouting the words, “Kill joy”. I wasn’t upset. That is what I wanted to do: to go home after partying and not abuse the trust my mom is unlimitedly giving me and there are no what if’s at all. There are no regrets and hard feelings that I wasn’t able to join them. I was also glad that I was able to refuse the pressure they were insisting on me. After reaching home, my mom welcomed me and told me that she is happy that I did not texted that I can’t come home. She said that she was glad that I inserted effort of going home when I can choose the easy way: to join my classmates and never care that there is this beloved person I call as mom who is waiting for me at the middle of the night. I was glad after hearing what she said and that made me convinced that though my classmates, at some point, had hard feelings over me, I made the right choice and I did the right thing.

My Week: An Underpass

Wednesday, being the indicator of the middle of my week was a down point for me. I admit that I am being too immature at times. I cannot help it and though I try to set aside jealousy in my life, I cannot do something but embrace it. I’ve been living with it for months and it triggered me a lot last Wednesday. Maybe because I allowed my mischievous imagination play on me that I almost forgot that some things are supposed to be staying right under my feet and not penetrating on my skull. I reached my peak of tolerating my jealousy and I thought that it’s the most I can feel but I was wrong for in the latter part of the week, I realized that emotions don’t have any peak at all. Sometimes, you believe that you’ll never be more jealous than you are then you end up with even worse feelings. Foolish life! I know that Morrie said that once you felt it, you have to detach yourself from that emotion but I cannot. I simply find it very difficult.

Thursday got even worse. I ended up damaging myself and others who matters most in my life. I went to school, leaving behind the pain of yesterday but as soon as I was reminded about that sentiment, I wanted to go back to the womb of my mother where I can feel all the security I am dying to have. I was out of control, not in a good sense but to the point that I felt my nerves exploding. I was obviously destructing myself. I cannot smile, not even a bit and I cannot cheer myself up. I cannot focus on my Chemistry neither on Math and all I wanted to do at that time was go to the ends of the Earth and shout out all those negative feelings I had, hoping that somehow everything will improve. I wanted to cry to at least lighten those burdens on my shoulder but it seems like annoyance dominates me more. I really was out of control and I was kind of concerned about the decisions I am making for I made the worst decisions in my life during the time that I was infuriated or any of the like. The destruction doubled for I saw that I was affecting people around me. They are joining my drama, aspiring to be stars under those curtains with me. I wanted to be okay or at least appear as one but I really can’t. I don’t want to fool myself.

Friday was kind of long and I will divide it in two parts. First, it became the worst of the week. I became the most jealous of all the people. I felt like I was being challenged emotionally and I just cannot accept that after I opened myself to a chosen one, things will get worse. I unleashed some of my emotions in a place where people walk by. I wanted silence. I wanted isolation and somehow, those hushed steps of people are enough to remind me that I still do exist and I am still concrete and tangible. Now I know why the “heartbreak point” in UP Diliman is called such. It’s a place where you can mend your broken heart when everything and everyone seemed to fail. It’s a place perfect for some reflections and a little of self-pity. I realized that I was failing as a person. My mom is worried about sending me into a relatively far university to study because she is worrying about my health. I must say that her worries have good points. I was failing my major subject which received the most of my attentions among my subjects. Though I feel like I was failing gloriously, it’s the same. I am still failing and I am bound to repeat it. I was acting childish for the past days and I bothered people who are supposed to be simply happy with their lives. That is what I did in return to the countless moments of happiness they shared with me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was impaired and that I felt how to fail… I don’t know how to get back my track. I was so sorry for myself.

My Week: An Endless Ferris Wheel

I wasn’t sure what happened to SUNDAY. That made me convinced that I spent it between integrals and areas of regions. If something more interesting than numbers occurred that day, then I’ll remember it and I’ll be writing that here but it seems that there is none.

The morning part of my MONDAY was very idle. I was determined to do other things apart from dealing with those Calculus stuff. I felt like I was suffocated and that I have to switch my attention to different things. I don’t want to travel to my university at that time. Partly because I will be alone there once more and partly because I know that if I stayed in my dormitory again, I will be doing nothing except to review my notes. I want to do something more fun than that. Nevertheless, after the sun lost some of its flicks, I traveled and there was this very confusing weather. It’s very hot then it will rain hard. Really, it was a source of head ache. After I reached Quezon City, I went to a mall first. I was determined to have fun. I went to the grocery and eventually decided that this week will be my “thrift week”. I noticed that for the past few weeks, I’ve been growing less concern about the money I do spend. Money cannot buy happiness, yes, but I thought that I should spend my allowance wisely. After all, it was coming from my mom’s hard work and sacrifices. I should take in considerations. As I was saying, I bought some grocery items for myself. Among these are the following: oatmeal for cold mornings, chips for boring afternoons and instant noodles and canned goods for I-am-tired-to-cook evenings. After buying these stuffs, I was supposed to go home but I didn’t yet. I met my love and love’s sister in the bookstore of that mall. It was a simple yet very wonderful experience and I must say that I was tensed. Well, who wouldn’t be? As a person, I care about how people see me. It doesn’t work for everyone though. I care about how those SPECIAL people see me. Period.

TUESDAY has affected me emotionally. At first, it was a whole bunch of “okay” things then during my last class, I realized something which I took for granted for the longest time. My mom and dad are separated and my sister and I are staying on my mom. My dad has a different family now. Things seem to be okay now. Though there are still hard feelings, I can see that my parents try everything to be civil with each other for us. My dad visits us occasionally for financial support and to check whether or not we are fine with our lives. Although majority of my personhood, accepted it, there is still this hoping part of me that prays every night that they may find reconciliation and they may find the way back into each other’s arms. I cannot believe that a happy ending wasn’t achieved by my parents. I want our family to be intact again and to wish for it while seeing that it is almost impossible now is very difficult. The reason I remembered about my situation is that we are going to talk about that in our group discussion. I felt a loud “lub-dub” in my chest. I might have appeared strong when talking about families and depriving myself of those tears but I don’t know what’s going to happen when my classmates started asking me about my own drama story. I felt that something is wrong in my concept of family. What happened to us affected me. The rest of the day went on without me thinking about that. Once again, I took it for granted. For me, that is the best way to focus on my studies. That is the best way to enjoy things. After all, everything ends up alright. Right?

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Remembering Rhaingel

I think I am experiencing a shortage of ideas. I am running out of things to talk about. Good thing there are these kind-hearted people on the World Wide Web who understand that deficiency. I don’t want to abandon this blog and I want you to know that I am still looking forward my goal of making three hundred and thirty posts before October 2009 strikes in. I still have two hundred and five to make. That is a pretty challenge.
Talking about those kind-hearted people I mentioned earlier, they provide a list of topics which may sound interesting to both the writer and the readers. The question was “What do you want to be remembered for?” Simple, eh? Yet if you will analyze the closely, you are to find your own brand of monument.

I interpret this as something which has a little association with death. Like, what do you want to be remembered for when you’re gone but being seventeen, I think, a better question is what do you want to be remembered for when part ways comes in?

I want to be remembered as the girl who taught you that being out of control sometimes is the greatest feeling in the world, the girl who deals with global warming more than she does with her grades. I’ve lived a typical life, the kind which has a little poetry and a lot of party-till-morning ideas. I want to be remembered as the writer who wrote about everything sensible and insensible, the kind which made her world revolve around her blog and drowned herself to words whenever she is bored or happy or depressed. I want people to say someday that “It’s not the change that is constant. It’s Rhaingel,” though I know that I’ve been in so many turning points already that changed me completely.

I want to be remembered as the girl who doesn’t drink coffee or beer but is so much in love with chocolates, marshmallows and sundaes. I want to be remembered as the girl when she was seventeen. It’s not that I am afraid of aging. I know that I’ll learn more as I walk forward but there is something quirky about being seventeen that I want to be remembered this way. This isn’t final. I know that when I turn eighteen, I might say that I want to be remembered that way and forget about this seventeen thing. I know that after I graduate from college, I might say that I want to be remembered that way, the educated lady I always dreamt myself to be and dump the idea of being remembered when I was seventeen and eighteen. I change my mind so easily and so this isn’t final but as for now, I want to remembered as the girl who constantly finds herself trapped in delusions and fraud, the girl who sees all the ironies of life and calls herself sarcastic.

I project the happy-go-lucky girl among my friends, the kind who presses the play button of the music player and dances all night after hearing Beyonce hit that “Single Ladies”, never minding her Chemistry exams tomorrow. I want to be remembered as the girl who acts unaccordingly to her age, still fascinated about rainbows and snow, still in love with kids’ stuff like Ferris wheel and purple cotton candies and still believe in the tooth fairy and fat Santa Claus.

Lastly, I want to be remembered for my mistakes so that people will learn from me. I want to be remembered for my smiles, both genuine and sarcastic. I want to be remembered for my tears, the kind which made my eyes pop out. I want to be remembered as the person I am, that very person who made a difference in your life.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Soul-Searching

I passed across that same thing where she used to stand almost all the time. Every time I pass across it, I am kind of frightened. What if she already changed? What if she looks different now? What if she isn’t there anymore?

The horror doubles after seeing her and realizing how she changed a lot. I know that she is always there. Maybe she lives there. Maybe she shows up when she knows that I am looking. I am actually not sure about it.

She still looks like the same child I used to know and play with, the child who loves pink lollipops with yellow and purple dangling bracelet and with dirty feet from playing on the ground. Though there are few differences, I know that she is still the same person I used to know. Oh how she changed a lot I can never believe! The innocence in her eyes was all gone though I can still see a lot of points of immaturity. Her eyes are now expressing different things. Sometimes they are vibrant and appealing that it makes sunshine of its own and other times it’s dull and gray, like raindrops kissing the dead leaf of a plant. Her smile is still the same though braced and sometimes fake, genuineness still linger in those smiles. It’s not anymore pure for some of her smiles have hidden intentions, intentions full of reasons she sees as valid. Her feet now aren’t as dirty as they were a long time ago. Her hands are now calloused and tired for she spends most of her waking hours using her hands. She still seems to be fascinated with rainbows and butterflies and during the night, I occasionally catch her waiting for shooting stars and wishing directly from her heart.

There are no more wounded elbows or scraped knees, only bruised arms she got from stupidly bumping into the door. Her legs aren’t as smooth and aren’t as sexy as Britney’s legs yet she uses them to walk around the building of her school and to play the sports which make her sweat and therefore reminds her that she is alive. Her hair is her crowning glory. It’s still long yet with adulterations. It has been damaged by the sun, by her CAT class, by the pressure of time.

I eventually decided to go back to my desk and accomplish the papers I have to pass. Somehow, I felt like I’ve stared at her for so long but I am glad that she wasn’t irritated at all. In fact, I saw that she appreciated the fact that there is a person like me who spend some time analyzing her. Maybe she finds it difficult to analyze herself. They call my act of looking at her as vanity but I see it as an examination of how she had been lately and if ever she improved or not. At some point, whenever I see her smiling, I feel so light that I could float into heaven. I feel happy for her. On the other hand, whenever I see her in her low spirits, I feel the urge to cheer her up and remind her about the good times when her smile can no longer be handled by her face. I feel exactly what she feels. She seemed to be going somewhere, too, for as I was going to my desk, she was heading to the same direction only she had a different world. I wonder about her world there inside the mirror. Is it as painful and cruel compared to the world where I am living? Maybe yes because I see the burden in her shoulders, the pressure in her head, the failures in her eyes and the little wounds in her heart.

I wonder why I can see her soul whenever I look at her. I don’t know her that well but she seems familiar, very familiar.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Go Ahead, Talk about Me

If there was one thing that struck me today, it is about being myself then ignoring the rest. Being true is the happiest thing you’ll thank yourself for and being pretentious is the worst torture you can ever do to yourself. Happiness is never dictated by what others think of me. For sure, I am concerned about the impressions I do make to people but I still believe that the people who matter don’t mind and the people who mind don’t matter.

For years, I’ve been living with eyes around me, eyes which constantly look at what I am doing and are more concerned about my shortcomings rather than the good things I’ve done. For years, that set-up has been alright. It has given me enough challenges to be a better person and eventually a lot better than who they are. With my family and true friends’ encouragements, I know that I may not be perfect but I am not everything they accused me to be. Judgments about me are what make me and my life interesting. I don’t know why... but whenever someone says something about me without even trying to know if what she/he sees is concrete, I feel bad for seconds then I bounce back, leaving behind all those judgments that made me felt bad once in my life. After all, they are mere words and though they may hurt, I know myself better than they do. I know what I am doing and whom I am doing it for. Though at times I feel senseless, I still got reasons, reasons that they care not to ask and dare not to know. I cannot help but be affected though it is very clear to me that I don’t live to please them. I want to fight back and tell all of them, “Hey, get to know me first then I’ll be ready to accept whatever it is that you notice in me,” and tell them perhaps that what they see isn’t always what they get. It seems unfair, very unfair yet to be silent is the best way to deal with things like this. After all, to prove them wrong is one thing. To make the world know that they are wrong is another.

I may not be very good and I consider myself as Little Miss Attitude. At some point in my life, I admit, that I get out of control and irresponsible but in such way I do see things differently. Because of that, I realized the value of freedom and the independence it requires for it to function efficiently. I realized all the duties I have and consequences of my actions. I care for my family and friends more than I do for myself and so it somehow gives me the pain to know that I am influencing them badly. I want them to be happy and have the best in life. Whether or not you would like to believe it, I try to change for them so that they’ll have enough reasons to be proud of me and I’ll have that twinkling satisfaction that I was able to impress majority of the people whom I had an encounter with. Maybe not all but majority. I am concerned about my parents who tried to work things out for my sister and me though everything is as complex as imaginary numbers. The way I see it, whenever I am judged, they are being judged too for they are the people who made efforts of making me someone who’ll have that reputation everyone aims to have. I am the product of their blood and sweat and if I am to be judge, I don’t want it to sound like they were not able to raise me well. That’s below the belt. That’s a different thing.

When I look in the mirror, I don’t see a stranger at all. I know where I’ve been and how I was raised. I know why I am this way. I know my strengths and weaknesses and I just wonder if those people who judge me even tried to examine me closely. I bet not. For if they did, somehow, it won’t be that awful after all.

I am Failing

Tonight, I allowed myself to have a mission: to write what cannot be written.

Since I officially confirmed that this blog is my therapy, I was and am still hoping that it will release all those negative ideas and feelings I have at the moment. Now I find myself talking about miracles, talking about the impossible. Tonight’s mission is unattainable and so is the thing I am hoping for.

My chemistry class this morning concerns about solutions and I wished silently that I am a solvent of any form and I can dissolve all those solutes that affect my normal and happy routine. I wondered if I am a supersaturated solution which can no longer disband and dissolve those solids that make my fluidity impure. I was, as I’ve always been, dealing with things which are supposed to be dealt with intellect and not with emotions. I was interpreting things differently.

A bowl of instant noodles is what satisfied me this evening. I mean, satisfied in terms of fullness of the stomach. Somehow, it made me reflect again as I am always doing with things. I do live in an instant world where everything seems to be fast and easy but hell, the real world is something which is always in its slow motion and often seems endless. Problems in real world are not solvable by pouring boiling water in it and waiting for three minutes for it to be ready. The thought about instant things and how they make our lives easier is something that fools us everyday. After all, I still ate the noodles I prepared for myself and ended up thinking if ever there exist such thing as an instant negative feeling remover. If ever there is one, I’ll be purchasing it whatever the cost is. I just find it very useful for my immature world. It seems like a must for a drama queen like me.

I want to talk about the rest of the day and things like traffic, election, what if’s and oatmeal but I am just tired to do so. I don’t have such energy to cheer people up with my posts. Thinking what happened today and what occurred to me really gives me the stress and the loneliness. Again, I am weak and emotionally unstable. When I look in the mirror, I see a green monster. Still, I cannot find the right words to write what cannot be written, particularly those thoughts which almost killed me a while ago. I cannot talk about them now. I may explode, warning. Thanks to pain-killers and comfort foods. Once again, they never let me fall.

Nevertheless, it’s Friday tomorrow and I am finally heading home, to the place where I really belong, my real sanctuary, and my real eiderdown. I can unleash everything there and end up crying with my caring mom beside me, reminiscing the time when wounded knees is what I am crying about then give me sound advices which are always the best things to do. Three hours to go and I’ll be welcoming a new day that is supposed to be better, I wish. Things will mend themselves again someday, I guess, for everything usually ends up that way. I just don’t know when is that someday. I hope that it’s pretty soon. I cannot let others be damaged as how I am already.

--Rhaingel
02/20/09
9:00 PM

Sunday, February 15, 2009

I Smell Nationalism

I am kind of confused right now. When I first made an account in blogspot, I was hoping that I will find bunches of Filipino people here but I wasn’t able to do that. I mean, I was searching and the people I see are mostly Americans. I thought, if there are Filipinos in here, there will just be a few. Apparently, while I was in the middle of my searching for good blogs last Saturday, I was able to drop by a Filipino blog. It already has a lot of posts and a lot of followers already which are Filipinos. I was a bit anxious. The main reason why I set this blog up on English is that my main readers are Americans. Right now, I have a thought of putting Filipino posts in here. I wonder if it’s okay.

While honing my English language, I find myself quite trapped in Filipino language. I must admit that at some point, I took my native language for granted. I am guilty. Still, I know, it’s never too late to do what I think is right. I will be putting up a Filipino blog. I know what that meant. I must take care and manage two blogs. I know that it is also kind of difficult. I acknowledge that this blog doesn’t receive my full attention. I just drop by occasionally whenever I have something quite sensible to share and having two blogs actually means that I have to divide that ample time I have every weekends.

I want those two blogs to be equally successful. I want them both to give chronicles about my life and both shall mark my existence. After all, that is my main purpose of putting up this blog because a diary may get ruined by some hot coffee or cruel cat and stories about me will never be heard from tongues. This is a very effective way to prove that Rhaingel was once here, has once existed.

Lately, Filipino thoughts are bugging me up. Deep words and nice-to-hear phrases are constantly making me insane about the language. I wanted to write in Filipino and so I decided to put up a novel. It is not yet done. It is not yet on its peak yet I am so glad because somehow, I don’t feel that drowning from different thoughts. I am, somehow, enhancing that native language. However, I wanted to tell stories about me on the novel but the story won’t come up if I do that so I considered about a Filipino blog. It’s free and it won’t hurt, I know but I wasn’t that convinced at first. Perhaps it is because I will start from blank again and that could be a challenge. I remember about starting this pen pusher thing. I would have deleted this if not because of my classmate who happened to drop by and told me some words of encouragements. It’s hard to write when you know that it’s just you who reads that is why I am so grateful for my readers here. I can hardly imagine about starting all over again but that’s okay and I am doing it. I know that no other satisfaction can ever replace that one caused by writing. I know that it’s weird and I am again, imparting my shallowness here but never mind. This is my blog and this is my life, right?

If ever you are interested, my Filipino blog goes here: Kilapsaw . "Kilapsaw" is a Tagalog term for thoughts.

My Week: Full Stomach and Heart

THURSDAY was kind of idle again. I was looking forward to Friday because I have two cancelled classes and that is like saying that my Friday won’t be that loaded. I planned to review because a draining Math exam is coming again but it didn’t happen. Once in a while, enthusiasm comes and visits me and it happens just once in a while. Unfortunately, there was a party in the first floor of my boarding house and everyone was singing broken notes. I was kind of disappointed. I was so much irritated. I wanted to tell them that they are not the only people living in there and that a little consideration to others won’t hurt. I switched my attention to other things. I lie down my bed and told myself how I love him so much. I got a piece of paper and pour my heart out, causing me to shed tears because I know that I really and madly do love him and that I’ll never love that way again. I was also afraid because there is just one him in this world. I wrote how much I love him then got disappointed too because I found out that I can never write exactly how much I do. No words can ever say it. I slept and dreamt about him. Thursday is such a happy day, isn’t it?

FRIDAY was a real example of the saying which runs thus: Everything ends up alright. If it doesn’t end up that way, it’s not yet the end. After all has been said and done, I went to my last class and tried to give my full attention to my programming subject. That was the best thing I can do and not think about him that much. I can never let jealousy eat me up. As hunger and exhaustion and dissatisfaction about the day filled my thoughts again, I considered about going to a concert and at least deal with music while having my heart fixed. I was determined to join the countdown to Valentine’s Day while I am alone. I did and I shouted all of my voice, got out of control once again and for a moment, pretended to be okay when I am not. I am good at it. I then walked around with my friend with no expectations at all. I was determined to get some fresh air apart from the atmosphere in the stage. There was a spark that tickled my eyes. I cannot be wrong. That was the spark which happens only when I see him. I really cannot be wrong. There is just one person who can make me feel like that. I was kind of shocked and unbelieving. He was there while I know that he was with someone else. My heart melted to the ground. I was still round the bend but my heart told me that she was very happy to see her counterpart. I can’t stand to stay snob. I cannot stand to not express all the affection I have for him. I ended that day with so much love for my only one and welcomed hearts’ day with so much happiness because we’re together as the fireworks destroyed the sangfroid sky.

I spent majority of my SATURDAY, Valentine’s Day, sleeping. Right, sleeping. It’s not that I am bitter or any of the like. It’s just that my Valentine’s Day is already complete and no one can ever be happier than I was already. As the nighttime painted itself on the sky, my dad went here and brought us to a fancy restaurant where we all pigged out and used up all the spaces in our stomachs. Until now, I still get a stomach ache whenever I think about how much I’ve eaten. I just hope that the next week will give me enough time to burn all those calories. Argh! There’s something wrong about me. I eat what I see.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

My Week: Reflections

SUNDAY was filled with moments to rest and prepare for the next week. It will be big. It will be exhausting, I know. I’ll be back to the studying mode where pressure was present no matter what I do. The previous week was awesome and I felt like I was kind of trap between a really good one and the uncertainty. There was an easy choice between the two. I was holding the previous week. No, not just holding but I was grasping it. I don’t want it to go. I don’t want it to be history. I can hardly accept that it was over, that it was part of the past. Nevertheless, I convinced myself that there will still be a next time and it is bound to be better and happier. I ended the day with a prayer of gratitude for God allowed me to have such memories despite of all the imperfections and wrong-doings I did.

I was supposed to head back to my dormitory last MONDAY but something seemed to be stopping me. Mind you, it’s not a paranormal thing. Perhaps, it was just the perfectly valid excuse for all time, laziness. To live in the second floor of a boarding house, deserted and silent is a real challenge for me. I say that our home is the exact opposite of that boarding house and if it’s not because of the ambitions I still have, I won’t bite boredom. Not even a bit, not at all. I stayed at our home though I was supposed to travel. I just thought that I can travel tomorrow morning. I had an extended weekend and that was a blessing.

I went to school last TUESDAY morning and the first part of my day involved seeing a dead man lying on the academic oval. Oh, the horror of going to school and seeing someone dead, lying on the ground. Until now, I am horror-struck whenever that thought visits my psyche. I am glad that as the day continued, I was able to switch my attention to different things. Math is one. Chemistry is another. There are a lot of things that I should deal with, things which are supposed to be getting majority of my attention. I was glad that I had all the time of my life after I went home. There is less to do and I tried to accomplish everything smoothly.

WEDNESDAY was long. I was able to sleep at three in the morning. At ordinary days, I am already on bed at ten in the evening. Last Wednesday, I was air gliding at ten, shouting and singing in a concert at nine, clapping my hands at eight, moving around the place at seven and was having my dinner at six. My friends and I went to a concert and had a nice time there, if you will ask me. It was a day that time wasn’t counted and the only thing I was thinking about is how to make him happy or happier in any sense. Some thoughts dominated me again. One was if ever I made a difference in anyone’s life which is positive. I am the girl your moms warned you about. I don’t deal with school that much and I wonder if I am making an impact on my friends’ lives that are in a negative way. I wanted them to have the best lives they can ever had and if I am influencing them badly, I thought, I should distant myself a little. I felt that I was changing their lifestyles. I thought that I am teaching them to live their lives at the fullest, just like what I am doing, and forgetting our responsibilities as sons and daughters and as conscientious students. I want them to be happy. That was one thing I always pray for and I am always working on but if they’ll be scolded because of being so much out of control, I won’t be happy for them and I will be sorry for them.

Sarcastically Me

If there is a thing that confuses me most about myself is that I am delightfully sarcastic. I do a lot of ironic things. My actions, at times, don’t speak my words. My words too, sometimes, don’t do my actions.

I smile my best when I am dying inside and when I am kind of exploding because of intense happiness, I say that I am just “kind of” happy. It’s weird but true. I just don’t know how to express myself exactly and so I entrust the figuring out part on the people around me. I try to look my best during my worst days, fooling other people’s eyes and during my best days, I play in the mud and get out of control. That makes me even happier. I laugh my heart out when I am sad and when I am glad, no joke can ever tickle me up. It’s just that I am already perfectly happy and nothing can ever break that apart. Whenever I am exhausted, I exhaust myself more, leaving nothing for myself and when I have all the energy, I spend it all in sleeping and being idle. Inactivity is one of the best things in life. I tend to focus more on things whenever I am emotionally unstable and I deal with things lightly when I am okay emotionally. I say, “I am okay”, whenever I am not and I say the same thing when I really mean it. I convince others first that I am fine and afterwards, I convince myself. That’s the easiest way I see to get over anything.

Whenever I am depressed, I seldom eat. I don’t have the appetite. I don’t pig out unlike every girl does but whenever I am happy, I eat what I see: no diet and no limits. If you will compare those times I cried, you’ll see that there are more of them caused by joy rather than gloom. I am a completely insane person and a lot random one. I say that I do understand things whenever I really can’t see its point and I say I appreciate it somehow whenever I understood it fully. I don’t know why I love such irony. Perhaps I love confusing other people, too. As a child, I wanted to grow up quickly, wondering what’s there beyond the playhouse and if life is really hard as the older people usually say thus and now, I am missing the innocence I once had. Whenever it’s Monday, I always look forward to Friday and as soon as Friday strikes, I am already longing for Monday, missing the people who complete my heart. I get mad at people and when I am mad, I want to see them soon. Maybe I want to fix things but quite scared to admit that I do.

I deal with problems with jokes and I deal with light things with serious quotations. It’s my unique way of maintaining equilibrium in my life. As a child, I don’t believe in fairies and angels but I have my faith in them now. Maybe because there are certain things which I find myself contented whenever I believe in.

There are many things that confuse me most about life and more things that confuse me most about myself. It’s funny that I treat things the sarcastic way. As much I am confused about myself, I want people to be confused with me, too. Weird. Insane. I know but that’s the way I live my life.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Describing my Mentors Part 1

School and student life are one of the few things that interests me the most. Perhaps because my world revolves around it today so I cannot help but be really attached. However, if I am one of the people who happened to drop by my blog, I will find the picture quite incomplete. Yes, there is the speaker, the writer, Rhaingel but I will find it difficult to imagine what the professors are like.

First, I would like to clarify that I am proud of the professors I have. Don't get me wrong. I know that some of them gets into my nerves at times and challenges my patience and perseverance but the point is that I always learn from them. I attend my classes not because of the attendance but because I am certain that I am going to pick something in there that I may never came upon to my life again. My professors, in their unique ways, are all interesting. Some are interesting because they seem to be mysterious but the others are so open but still you can’t see within. I always catch myself dumbfounded by the thing they have that I still don’t have enough: experiences and that marks all the differences.

First, my professor in Communication 3 classes. I remember the first time she oriented our class. I thought she was strict and snob and everything a terror teacher is being described by books. I was wrong. The moment she smiled, I saw the genuineness and I felt like I was facing my own mother. We don’t have this special connection. In fact, I don’t think she even knows my name but that’s okay. It’s enough that once in my life, I encountered her and that I had so many laughing moments because of her. She is the kind of person that has myriad of stories to tell and funny jokes to punch you up. I find her funny and cool for a Communication 3 professor and if I will be on that age, (maybe 40s or 50s) I wish to have that kind of enthusiasm and very positive outlook on things. She seems not to worry about anything. She has the spirit I admire and wish to have. She was the one who told our class that each of us can contribute something to the world. Until now, I am wondering what’s mine. (Well I hope that that’s something nice and memorable.)

I was expecting that my Communication 3 class will just be full of pronouncing “eeeepple” as for “apple” and “supermeeeeeen” as for “superman”. I never thought that it’ll be this exciting, really makes me look forward to every Tuesday and Thursday. I guess, I am just pleasantly surprised.

As a warning, this description is kind of biased. I love communication and this maybe the reason why I love the professor, too. I am interested with talking to large audiences and that may also be the reason why I find the subject and teacher cool… but whatever, this is my opinion and this is my blog.

Possibly, I’ll be writing about my other professors, too, the kind of people which makes my learning time worth-while. Maybe I won’t. I am planning that this post will be a series. I still have my Physics, Math, Chemistry, Filipino, Philosophy, etc., teachers to describe. I learned so much from them and they contributed a lot in my college life. Maybe a simple and single blog post won’t hurt at all.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Valentine Cards

Dear Writing,
For the past years, I have been constantly addicted to you. You listen to my problems and to my happiness. Though you don’t tell sound advices, you make me realize my mistakes by myself. Without you, I must be blue and must be crazy. You help me retain my sanity and make me ready for whatever it is that the day is offering me. Without you, my life won’t be that happy and won’t be that fulfilling. You are a very special part of me… and you’ll always be, forever. I will be keeping in touch with you until that day that I am in my death bed.


Ever Loving Laptop,
I would like to begin this letter by saying that you are the remedy to my boredom. You have so much in you that stops me from being a monster. You let me blog, edit pictures, finish my projects, play games and most of all, connect to those people I miss a lot. Thank you so much laptop! Sometimes, I feel like I am not doing enough to take care of you. Sometimes, I allow these viruses to penetrate your system and I am very sorry whenever that happens. Sorry if I save so many files in you, causing you to collapse and give up. I want you to be with me for the next few years. I need you.

To my Pain-Killer,
I owe you those days when dysmenorrhea strikes and I am about to go to the mall. I owe you those nights when I am about to do an unfinished project and head ache starts to sink in. Without you, I could have absent myself from class a dozen of times. Without you, I wasn’t able to attend those evening plays I look forward to and those movie-seeing I’ll kill myself if I miss. I owe you a lot my pain-killer. May you still help me for the next few years?

Dearest Penguin,
I don’t know what’s in you that drives me crazy. I know that you are undeniably cute but is that enough? I am so much inspired with the thought that you spend half of your life to search for that particular penguin for you and the other half being with that one you finally found. Simple glimpse of you makes my heart jump and out of control that I cannot stop myself from hugging even a stuffed toy that replicates you. You’re the second cutest creature I know that exists and I really love it when you’re fat and small. Thank you for giving me something to hug whenever he is kilometers away.

Beloved Double Dutch,
The reason why I hate global warming is that it makes you melt. You always make me happy and smile. I don’t know why but whenever I am down and something bad happens, a taste of you makes me cheer up and going again. You are a drug of my choice. I love your chocolate flavor that stripes its way towards crunchy nuts and soft marshmallows. You make me crazy and spoiled. You are truly a blessing in my life and it will always be that way. I love you so much Double Dutch! :)

What Kind of Blogger am I?

I have always been wondering about what kind of writer I am. It kind of confuses me because I see myself as a completely random one. Sometimes, I am a drama queen, writing everything with a tragic ending and sometimes, I am Little Miss Happy, trying to inspire myself and others through this blog. It’s a good thing that TYPEALYZER evaluates writers according to my blog. I don’t know how they manage to do this in just seconds but I am contented about the result of their analogy. It says:

The Artists
The gentle and compassionate type. They are especially attuned their inner values and what other people need. They are not friends of many words and tend to take the worries of the world on their shoulders. They tend to follow the path of least resistance and have to look out not to be taken advantage of.


They often prefer working quietly, behind the scene as a part of a team. They tend to value their friends and family above what they do for a living.


Allow me to digest the descriptions above.
  • I don’t think I am gentle. As far as I know myself, I am harsh and rough though I try to be tender to others.

  • It’s true that I am the compassionate type. Other’s problems are my problems, too. Sometimes, I can hardly sleep because of certain things that bother me although I am not supposed to be bothered. I try to include compassion in my writing. Yes, I write what I want. Yes, I write what I feel but there is still the concern for others which I see as very important. I do believe that writing is there not to harm other people. Language was invented in order to promote peace and it will always be that way.

  • I disagree when this description told me that I am not a friend of many words. I totally disagree. I am the loudest among my friends, the kind who has all the things and stories to tell. I love to talk although I don’t have something sensible to say.

  • I take worries of the world in my shoulder. I don’t know why. I am just easily affected by my environment, I care for strangers and whenever I see a blind person crossing the busy street while I am sitting in a vehicle for my class, I become affected for the whole day because of that conscience that tells me that I must have offered my help instead of just rushing to school.

  • I am paranoid. I don’t trust people easily. It takes time and whenever I am beginning to be in good terms with someone, I make sure that I am not being taken advantage of. I make sure that everything is alright. So far, I do believe that there is no one who had taken advantage of me. I told you, I am just paranoid.

  • I don’t think that I work quietly and that I prefer to be behind the scene. I have dreams of being a script-writer or a director but whenever there is a play, I am always aiming for the lead role, the one which will drove the audience do the warm round of applause.

  • I value my friends and family the most. I value them more than I value school and health and education and myself. They are the gems that made my life glitter and I can do nothing to repay them. I don’t know how to and so I result in valuing them with all my heart and soul.

My Week: The Highlight

FRIDAY AND SATURDAY. Those two days were inseparable and the highlight of my week. Until now, I am still in awe whenever I think about what happened. I have been searching for those right words but then again, there’s none. We went to an outing last weekends—me, Ric and the person I love the most. Let me treat this realization as a letter.

Dearest Harry,

I don’t know how to start. I don’t know how to describe how happy I am at the moment. Whenever I think about that chilling night after I jumped in the pool and that exhaustion after we played badminton and sweat all the calories my mom allowed us to have, I sigh and then smile and look at the moon. I have always been fascinated with dreams, most especially, those happy ones, the opposites of my nightmares but after savoring every single minute that passed, I realized that the reality of being with you is a lot better than my dreams. My dearest, I could have give all of me just to experience that again. What we’ve shared instantly became an indispensable part of my memory and my heart that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Right now, my legs are aching. Well, who won’t be after swimming endlessly, walking a long thoroughfare then playing Badminton but I am more than alright. How I wish that this pain will forever stay in my legs so that I will always have the proof of what happened. Thanks for the warmth of your company. It was a lot better than my favorite soup I used to take during extremely cold nights. I love the way you talk to me when my mom was around, how you laugh at her jokes and how you tell her things about your parents. I love the way you looked after waking up, sorry if I am being futuristic but I cannot stop myself from imagining you maybe ten years from now. There is always the spark I see whenever I think about you and more sparks when I look at the real you. My darling, you will never be replaced and the great love I have for you can never be erase. Thanks for all the love you’ve showed me. That is worth everything and more than I prayed. It had given me wings and made me soar to paradise, the place where everything pauses and glitters as soon as your smile shows up. You look at me and damn! Everything is on fire. You are my sweetheart and being with you is the most delightful place I constantly find myself. I still don’t think that I’ve showed you enough. There will still be more I can show and I can express the next days. My love, it looks like I’ve said a lot but you know that these words could never say how much you mean to me and how much I love you. There is always more than this letter and more than this post. There is always more than those little love notes I leave at your things. I love you, for you, and though I lived my life before, I cannot imagine living it again without your presence. I am so much attached and so much addicted. Doesn’t it show? I find it impossible to suppress all these intense feelings I have for you. They say I have to be myself and for me, it means, shouting to the world how I cherish someone like you in my life and doing everything to make all of these last. I want you to realize that I am yours and I will always be yours. You’re my playmate, my classmate, my dear friend, my honey my everything. I’ll always be twisted and intertwined within loving you.

Yours forever,
Rhaingel

My Week: Totally Out of Control

The first part of the week was quite packed, full of deadlines and examinations and dozens of post-it notes. Everything seems to engulf me. It was a hell week though I don’t want to treat it as one. The week continued as it always does. Everything seemed to make sense. Everything seemed to be going lighter and happier. My foot was finally okay and so am I.

WEDNESDAY. I woke up early, checked my laptop for the last time. You know, miracles happen. I was thinking that it might work and finally, I’ll continue the unfinished project… but it didn’t. I went to school, attended Math, and then spent the rest of my day finishing the project I was working for a month. I know what’s impossible and to finish that project is not one of those. The anticipation I swallowed last night took its effect. I sat in front of my friend’s laptop with the person I love beside me. He was sitting and looking at what I am doing, providing me more than enough motivation. That moment, I wanted to finish my work as soon as possible so that he’ll be glad and he’ll have no worries. I did. It was that thing that satisfied me the most. I finished my work with him by my side, occasionally advising me some tips on how I’ll make my work easier and faster. He was beside me when hunger started to drop and head ache started to plague me. I was the most thankful person in the world then and up to now. I passed my project and went home, bringing with me happy moments about the day. Each step I took was the realization that I need him, that I am lost without him and that I want to love him everyday of my life.

THURSDAY. His class was up to seven o’clock while mine was just until eleven-thirty. I was supposed to go home and laundry my clothes and lie down to get some sleep but then, I don’t see any productivity in there. I know that if I immediately go home, I’ll be filling myself with thoughts of him and what is he doing and I’ll surely miss his smiles and everything about him. Dealing with what-if’s is what I hate most. I decided to stay in the university and wait for him. Surely, after I waited and saw him finally, the lub-dub in my chest grew stronger. We played cards with his other classmates and some friends just to kill some time. Again, I laughed out so hard whenever I lose during the game but behind that laughter is a crying lady because I can hardly imagine how lucky I am to have someone like Clint Harry Gemoto Angeles who is an undeniable angel in my life. The truth is that, his smiles fill my days with constant joys and irreplaceable happiness. That time, while seeing him happy and enjoying the moment, I wondered if there exists something which is better than that feeling, but there is none… absolutely none. I was equally happy, too and I was glad that I waited instead of simply going home. I was so crazy in love while watching him hold his cards, laugh after I caught him cheating during the game and explain though we both know that even if he cheat a million times, he will still be the same person I am irrevocably in love with. While walking to the terminal towards home, I was looking at the stars, at the Orion, at his eyes. For a moment, I closed my eyes and pinched myself, wondering whether it was a dream or an effortless fantasy but as soon as I opened my eyes, I saw his face again and I knew then that what he have is real. The wait I did was all worth it and if I will be given a choice to live that day again, I will still choose the path I took for it made me really happy. It made my heart beat faster and slower at the same time, simply amazing, simply breath-taking.

Saturday, February 07, 2009

My Week: Heterogeneous

SUNDAY was a Math day and you’re right if you do think that this is not in any form of grumble and complains. I am very glad that I managed to spend my waking hour dealing with numbers and keeping in mind that complaining won’t bring me anywhere. Now I realize that Math is not there to burden me. It was always there before I even existed and I was the one who chose to be in that field. Everything is difficult and the handling thing is actually up to me.

MONDAY was great. It was a heterogeneous mixture of emotions. The start of the day was great for I spent it with a friend whom I already treat as an older brother. We were both on our way to school. After I reached my university, I was supposed to open my notes and deal with numbers again but then I found it quite confusing. I know that I am the kind of person who is very prone to mental-block. It happens and so I decided to just chitchat with my classmates and let fate dictate my score. I know that I could have done better. I’ll lie if I say that there are no regrets but I also think that if I reviewed instead of laughing out loud, that day will just be pure torture. After I passed my exams, my head started to ache. It was an obvious representation of something I pushed even though limitations already submerged in. I was okay though. I was supposed to buy a gift for a writer I am supposed to interview for my report. I did but it was more than what I expected. There was this newly-opened mall around North EDSA, Philippines. I went there with someone of great importance, hang in there, spent a couple of hours telling stories about how our weekends went and ate some doughnuts. It was wonderful. I mean, I know that a mall was a public place and that people are walking all around it but amazingly, I cannot remember even a single face except his. That moment, I realized why my weekend was not that happy. I realize what’s wrong and what’s lacking and thanks to that unexpected twist. It surely made my heart swell with joy. I went home bringing with me an unexpected Monday.

TUESDAY was also a combination of such happy moments and frustrations. The truth is that I wanted to end that day because of fear of receiving more frustrations that may break my anticipation. I was afraid of going back to the past week which is full of disappointments. I had a deadline for a project which is Wednesday. I know that staying up late by Tuesday evening will make me finish that project which I’ve been making for almost a month. After I went home from school, I sat and made myself a cup of hot milk to fight drowse. I did but the problem is that I cannot open my laptop. A virus swallowed all its files and programs. I was doomed or so I once felt. I immediately cried not because of any reason except hopelessness and helplessness. I was desperate. Well, who won’t be? After spending months on working for it, it was all gone and I am bound to repeat everything. I tried to think that when I was still in high school, similar things happen but the difference is that I haven’t worked that long for a something only to lose it. No one wished for it. I have no one to blame. I wasn’t sure if tomorrow will be great enough for me to celebrate but I soothe myself with thought like I’ll make it no matter what and if ever I wasn’t able to make it, a ten point deduction won’t dictate my lifestyle forever. I just have to let that go. I took a pill of optimism and closed my eyes. “Tomorrow will be better if not great,” I said in my dreams.

Back to the Line

I am back on the blog-o-sphere, finally! I was gone for sometime and I have three reasons I see as valid for those. First, I was miserable. I see everyday as a stair of frustrations and the problem was that I see writing as a therapy, pouring everything in it, never concerned about the people who are going to read those. I had the idea that I’ll be making some effect but then I still pursued my plans of writing and resulted in devastating other people’s day. I am sorry if you were one of those who had a good day but later on became miserable because of what you’ve read. If you were kind of bothered or any of the like, I really am sorry. I chose to sort things out of my mind and not blog about everything. Second, I was very busy. Exams here and exams there, exams everywhere. Deadlines of projects and reports all seemed to engulf me wholly. I was concerned about my grades too and my stay on my university and so I finished everything first. After all, those were really what I should be doing as a student. Third, a wayward virus swallowed my program. My laptop was impaired for four days and I just had it repaired a while ago.

I have all things in mind. The truth is that, I want to write all of those thoughts and topics that I am thinking about yet I know not how to start those. Now I know that no matter how great the English language is, some things and feelings are still too great to write about. No words can ever describe how happy I am right now. Perhaps because they can never be contained inside those symbols we later on termed as alphabet. I know that I beat the bush a lot. Maybe I’ll be writing everything soon, when I already grasp the words which are near to what I really want to say and describe. For now, I will be dealing about how I have been lately. I posted a lot under that “In solitude” label. I just can’t help it. I was really upset and disappointed and you all read about that. The next thing I knew was that I once again became the happiest person alive. Each breath I took was the realization that I have myriad of things and people to be thankful for.

Now, everything seems to make sense. The happiness I have right now won’t be the same if I did not undergo those down points. They say that if it rains, it pours but what was left for us to figure out was after it rained, the rainbow is there to remind us that the colorful arc won’t be that beautiful if it didn’t rain first. “Life is a cycle,” I always know about that but sometimes I find it hard to believe. After achieving perfect happiness, all the sadness will seem to be worth-dealing with. I know that it might happen again. I will surely be sad again sometime but I fear it not for I know, too that later on, that sadness will ripen itself and will become a little sweet ripe fruit.

I am back to my line… the line that reminds me of being straight to my direction… the line that takes me back again to reality of where I am heading and the things that I shouldn’t carry with me to my destination. Perhaps, hard feelings and angst are some of those. I should leave it all behind, just like when you leave someone behind the door, expecting them to try to make you stay but you know that it was the best for the both of you. Now that I am back in the line, I am back to the habitual beautiful things like the blogland and writing life. I am back to seeing the beauty of life one more. :)

Sunday, February 01, 2009

My Week: Fears and Inferiorities

If there is one thing I’ve learned about this week, it is the fact that never will the world stop just to wait for my recovery. I am not that special. Things will rush their way towards the end and if I don’t act quickly, they’ll be gone. The last week of January 2009 seemed as though it was a large whale on the blue sea swallowing me wholly. I must add that the past week challenged me personally, drained all of my energy and tested my emotional stability. I think I failed those tests and I can live with that.

SUNDAY was an early hell week for me. Though there are few post-it notes yet, I made myself busy for some reasons which are still quite confusing for me. I was supposed to be busy during Tuesday, Wednesday at Thursday but I punished myself early. I started to review my Math lessons and did the Machine Exercises which never fail to make me frustrated.

MONDAY was a good start, though. If there is one thing that made me say, “I love this week!” it is Monday. Though it seemed busy at first as it always does, I found myself that day in a safe haven. That day was a reminder into something that makes me smile. I reminisced my childhood by playing children games with a friend and someone who means so much to my life. I’ll never forget about lying in the middle of the field, bare foot, pointing into the stars and seeing them fade one by one as I look deep into his eyes. Neither will I forget about laughing my heart out while carried by him and me trying so hard to reach for the light. I wondered if any feeling is greater than that and I realized that there is none. It made me realize that life is easy because there exists an angel who will join me in all of my journeys. It made me wish that I had a time-stopper, something that will make us stay in that moment forever, no worries, no other things except innocence we once knew and love for the world but as twilight paved its way, the day has to end and what’s left are my silent wishes for that moment to repeat itself.

TUESDAY was a day of mission. It was kind of opposite with Monday but nevertheless, still memorable in a sense that I learned a lot from certain things. It was a busy day. Tomorrow is full of exams while the laundry basket is overflowing with used clothes, clothes that remind me about the beautiful yesterday. I tried to cheer up but remembering what he said and what he realized (see 627 post) simply makes me regretful for some things I wished to said but know not how. I was bothered and fearful for losing the person who matters most in my life. I suddenly became paranoid that he is just waiting for the right timing to say “goodbye” to me. I was afraid to have my fragile heart broken. At the same time, I felt like I was useless because I cannot make him feel that he is the most special part of my life, that he can do nothing and yet he will still be my everything: my dream, my prayer, my song, my love. I wanted to show him that he is doing more than enough and that I don’t see any of his flaws because no one will be more deserving for my love than him. I cannot encourage him to fight his inferiority and that is one thing because he made me fly and soar high and believe in myself especially when no one does but he still see himself as someone substandard. I don’t know what to say though words circle my mind. I felt like I was worthless, that I am not someone worth fighting for, that I was not someone whom he can address those words, “I am not going to let go whatever happens and no matter how difficult things may appear,” and it’s very difficult whenever that mood strikes and I have to study conjectures concerning Philosophy and nuclear energy for Physics.