The Essence of Me

This is the second time I’ve felt this scared. My brother texted me a while ago that my grandfather was run over by a tricycle, the driver was  drunk. My grandmother took him to the hospital and he’s already home, but I’m still shaking. His leg and back were hurt, but my grandmother assured me he’s okay. His x-ray results will come out on Monday, and I won’t be able to stop worrying until we get it.

Just a few months ago it was my grandmother that got hit by a motorcycle, the driver was also drunk.  I was worried sick, even though she only had very minor injuries. I love my grandparents very much and I cannot imagine life without them. They’ve sacrificed a lot for us, cared for us, loved us, even if it meant great hardships for them.

I thank God that my grandfather is okay, and I’m praying that he’ll recover very soon. He is the kindest man I know, and I just can’t bear the thought that he might be in pain. Please, God, let him be okay.

I am such a hypocrite. I refuse to acknowledge the source of my anger and resentment, pretending to be righteous and self-sacrificing but in truth, I am a wretched person. I wish to rid myself of the burdens I so gallantly took upon my shoulders. I pretend that I’m strong and I can handle it but inside me painful shards of regrets are building up and tearing me to pieces.

I hate being tied down. To people, to a job, to anything. I burn out quickly, and being able to move from one thing to the next is what’s helping me survive. But the heavier the burden is, the harder it is to move… and leaving them behind is not an option.

I feel so trapped. A cage, no matter how comfortable, is still a cage. Even love can be a prison. No, scratch that. The obligations and expectations associated with love can be a prison. But I have no choice but to endure, to try to quell my desire to cut the bonds which hold me down.

Please, God, give me strength and patience.

I’m such an ungrateful wretch.

I know that I have a lot of things to be thankful for, yet, i feel so unhappy… so unfulfilled. Actually, I was surprised that I used the word “oppressed” when I was describing to a friend how I’ve been feeling these past few months. And that one single word nailed it.

The sad thing is, I am my own oppressor. I let myself be limited by fears, by obligations, and by the compulsive need to please others. These are not necessarily bad things, in fact, these are good things… but I guess not to the extent of sacrificing one’s own happiness and freedom.

I’m sorry if I sound bitter. I’m not.

I just wish some things were different, that’s all.

I still can’t believe that our beloved Executive Minister has passed away. Even though I stood in front of his casket last Wednesday, somehow, something inside me still refuses to believe he’s really gone. But I know, this farewell is only temporary. He had finished his race, and what we need to do now is to finish ours, so that his hard work and sacrifices for the Church will not be in vain.

Goodbye, Ka Erdy. You will forever remain in our hearts.

I was a delinquent student back in college. I always exceeded the number of absences allowed, and because I was rarely in class I never really got to know my classmates or professors very well.

During my third year, after repeatedly failing Math 17, I shifted my major to Special Education and my minor to Social Studies. I wasn’t particularly interested in these fields but most of my friends were taking them so I said, hey, what the heck.

He was my Social Studies professor, and those who had taken his classes said that you either love him or hate him. There’s no middle ground.

The truth was, I only wanted to take his subjects because my friends said it’s easy to get a passing grade from him. I signed up for one class and then he practically forced me to cancel my other Social Studies subject (taught by a different professor) and sign up for his other one. The reason: his classes were in danger of being dissolved unless he comes up with a decent number of students. Still, there were only four of us in one class and six in the other.

His classes weren’t dissolved, indeed, he fought the college tooth and nail to stay afloat. And it wasn’t because he would lose his job, but because he truly believed that Social Studies is key to instilling patriotism in the Filipino youth. His passion for our country was infectious, and his unconventional teaching methods made our classes feel like having coffee with a friend while discussing national affairs.

His biggest source of frustration and anger during that time was the Revised Basic Education Curriculum (RBEC). RBEC combined Social Studies with other subjects (H.E., Music, Art, P.E., and G.M.R.C.) into one big subject called Makabayan. He fought the DepEd on this, and at one point we were asked to form a rally in front of the DepEd office to voice our opposition.

Passionate as he was, though, our discussions in class weren’t always serious. He injected anecdotes, sometimes relevant to the topic being discussed, sometimes not. My favorite one was about his wife. He said, before he married her she was a sweet lamb. After he married her she turned into a crouching tiger, hidden dragon. But it was pretty obvious he was smitten with her.

All in all, I took three of his classes. I couldn’t remember reading any textbook for the assignments he gave… all we needed was the newspaper, a critical mind, our fervent love for our country, and a desire to change things for the better.

If he was still alive, I doubt he’d remember me. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I remember him, and the things I learned from him, and I hope and pray that all of his students would remember him and honor his memory by loving this country and trying to make a difference.

Goodbye, Sir. And thank you.

(For Prof. Mabuhay Alonzo, U.P. College of Education)

How does it feel to try and try and never get anywhere?

Frustrating. Maddening. Tiring.

And I’m so tired. My best efforts are never enough. I’m never enough. God knows I’ve tried so hard to keep it together. I’ve tried to be strong, to be responsible, to make up for someone else’s shortcomings. But whatever I do, no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.

I don’t know how long I can continue doing this.

Yesterday was my birthday.

Like the previous ones it wasn’t anything special, although I did cook spaghetti, made fruit salad, drank wine, and watched Il Postino. I originally planned to go out with someone, but something came up. The truth is, I was grateful. I only just realized that I enjoy spending my birthday alone. It gives me a feeling of utter peace, knowing that this day is mine and mine alone, and I can do whatever I want (as long as it’s not against the law, of course).

At 28, I have a lot of things to be grateful for. So instead of a wishlist I decided to put together a list of things that I’m thankful for.

(In no particular order)

1. My family - for always loving me and appreciating everything i do

2. My friends - for being a source of happiness, comfort, and strength

3. My job - that I’m still enjoying what I do

4. Stephen King - for writing the Dark Tower Series and making me want to be a gunslinger

5. Naruto - for being my anchor when I was depressed

6. Yamato Nadeshiko Shichi Henge - for being so silly that it made me laugh

7. Harry Potter - for ending up with Ginny

8. Music and Poetry - for keeping my spirit burning

9. Windy afternoons, rain, and coffee - for making me feel alive

10. Well-wishers - friends and acquaintances who greeted me on my birthday, making me feel like a million bucks

11. And last but not the least, I am grateful to the Almighty, for always giving me strength whenever I feel like giving up.

I haven’t updated my blog since June. It feels like forever. Where to begin? I don’t even know what to write about.

I know, I know, this is a waste of space and a waste of your time. Sorry. I promise I’d write something tomorrow…

and it will be my last post before I turn 28. Sometimes I wonder if I really am just in my twenties. I feel like a hundred years old.

‘Til tomorrow then.

I woke up just in time for my daily meeting with my boss, and I think it’s a great start for the week Mondays are really hard, and I’m sure most working people would agree with me. It’s that day of the week when you’re split… your mind knows that it’s the start of another work week, but your body feels like it’s still Sunday and your bed looks more inviting than usual (especially when it’s raining, like today!).

So here I am, too distracted to work but too full of energy to lie down and sleep… and also too lazy to do something about being distracted =P

It’s been a while since my last post and I’m feeling quite like a caveman, out of touch with the whole world. I’ve been holed up at home for quite some time now, going out only when necessary. I haven’t even gone out to get a haircut (badly needed, by the way). I don’t know what’s wrong with me, why I’ve been feeling so detached lately.

Or maybe I do know. Work is the only thing that’s keeping me busy these past few months and I guess my routine’s getting old. I think I need to get a hobby or something. I don’t even go out for my nocturnal walks anymore (partly because the weather is so unpredictable).

I should change things. No. I will change things.

And I’ll start by going out tonight. And maybe thinking about which hobby to take on.