Monday, January 28, 2008

january 13.

I started writing this strings of soppiness last 14th of January. Due to spoiled enthusiasm and disgust (oh yes, the feelings ran through my veins at the same time- the enthusiasm to write about my disgust), I failed to work on this filaments of thoughts until tonight. See, I really want to chronicle (as much as I can) my 2008 so I finished this crap. :)


"Inquirer po."


Every Sunday, I splurge P20.00 to buy a Philippine Daily Inquirer, my cheap yet wealthy (how ironic is that!) pleasure. Firing up late November 2007, I started the habit to nurse my ignorance and to feed my mind. It's a W-I-S-E investment afterall.

After the 6:30 mass, my feet automatically direct me to corner where stacks of paper reside. This is the pwesto of an old woman who I knew all my life as the "old woman who sells newspaper." Yes, all my life. I never knew anyone in Barangay Parada who attended my need of news clippings in grade school.

Uhm, no. Not a family affair, you see. I don't have a father who unbolts his morning sitting in a lazyboy, reading a broadsheet that entirely covers his face with a cup of coffee waiting in the side table. The habit (which I wish to sustain until ...) is a self-medication to current events paucity. It's all me.

***

THE DISAPPOINTMENT.

More than the 18th birthday of my beloved cuzzo, I did not see any other thing to celebrate that day. The day kicked off pretty ordinary. I was following my usual Sunday morning ceremonies. Attend mass- check. Buy Inquirer- check. Cook breakfast- check.

After serving breakfast, I surfaced to my room and changed to airy clothes. Read the newspaper is next on the program. Lying on the bed, I grabbed the newspage. Usually, my fingers would immediately jump to the editorial page to hear from Isagani Cruz, Rina Jimenez-David, Justice Artemio Panganiban and Patricia Evangelista. This time around, I decided to begin the marathon no where else but the startiing line-- A1. I fixed my eyes to the banner headline. . . and so news articles from succeeding pages followed.

Local execs blame solons for falling share of taxes. Machine-readable passport app'ts allowed via internet.

Well you see, I don't read everything though. As much as I would want to care (or be interested at the very least), no article seemed to catch my attention anymore.

NBI summons 5 accused of manhandling Bunevacz

Ting! (eyes affixed, glued to the article) I d u n n o why I give a damn 'bout this shit. Pure shit, you see. I knew about the issue since it's a show business material (on an entirely different approach). Okay, I admit, lumaki nga akong nanonood ng showbiz talk shows, yeah maybe I give a damn (pure damnation, M A D N E S S!!!) concerning David Bunevacz and Beverly Hills 6750. At malamang sa malamang, chismosa talaga ako kaya this article fought the ennui that was eating me whole. (kung 'di mo kilala si David at sobrang hindi mo maintindihan ang sinasabi ko, visit this link.hehe)

But L O O K, just when I thought this article was just the bessttt deal to save me from blahs and blues, the real deal came ascending on the least expected turn.

Just beside the Bunevacz article:

UPCAT RESULTS ARE NOW ONLINE.

My mind snapped out of absent-mindedness. Thanks to adrenaline rush, I rushed to the kitchen and informed mommy. Sweat wanting to come out, heart thumping so loud, I was screaming in silence.

....

...

PAK.

...

....

My beloved cuzzo, AB Journalism in UPd, dashed to our front door. "Hindi ko mabuksan samin(pertaining to the database of UPCAT results)," sabi niya. My mom answered her, "Hindi siya nakapasa, sa Los Banos lang."

Just like what I mentioned earlier, the day kicked off pretty ordinary. Perhaps, there was nothing to celebrate more than the debut of my beloved cuzzo. There's NONE, certainly NONE.

***

YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, DO YOU?

When someone asks me if I passed the UPCAT, I answer as if printed in my DNA, "Hindi nga eh (++twinges and frown muscles)."

At times when I fly from depression, the thought enters my mind: hey, I still passed. I just didn't passed (ano?!). Failing Diliman equates failing everything UP to me. I'm lost for words, UP pa rin ang UP Los Banos pero di siya UP Diliman.

Friday, January 4, 2008

remote, standoffish, reserved, indifferent, distant, detached, unfriendly, cold, unapproachable, proud, snooty *

My torpor has worked wonders for me.

You know, I have been tagged by persons from teachers to not-so strangers as someone indifferent to insensitive because of my indolence. But then, my deficiency of excitement, physical and mental energy, or anything embracing the adrenaline was nothing but my salvation.

I was redeemed from emotional breakdowns and disgraceful aftermaths. I have been rescued from the social stress and social thorns; though I know in my brain (and in my heart?) that I have not been emancipated from infiltrating conflicts and penetrating pressures. I am just so fortunate that I am so nonchalant!

Actually, iniisip ko rin kung naduduwag lang ako. Alam niyo na, clichés-- indulgence in fantasies to escape reality, superb fraud, pretending not to be hurt, playing tough enough. Gee. Di ako yun. I may not have a degree in Psychology but I feel sharp that I understand intelligently the difference of escapism and torpor*insensitivity.

But see, the COMMON DENOMINATOR is SELF-PRESERVATION.

So much for my mind-blowing aloofness that I doubt, got through your neurons (I guess I’ve said much, but I think I was still too vague for anyone, or someone **,)