So let me take care of you.

 

“Do you see me in your future?”

“Yes I do. So let me take care of you.”

 

I still don’t believe in forever. I just believe in the future.

Looking back and looking ahead.

I should be studying. 

But because of my failure to write something good in my multiply blog earlier today, my fingers seem to be suffering from what one would call as the withdrawal syndrome for addicts. Hence, this blog.

I haven’t written here for the longest time already; probably because I just had to rekindle my relationship with my multiply network of friends. Just so you know, the semester is about to end already and I am, well, sort of happy that it is. But I have to give this semester some credit; it did have a lot of good points I should remember.  I was able to sing with a choir for their concert (Alay Musika XIV), I was a good ninang to my godchild in the apprenticeship process by my org, and I was able to join another org (which, by now, is ready to crash and burn). And to top it all off, I am very content with the romance in my life.

However, all things, despite the good sides, have their down sides too. I had just been diagnosed with having anemia. It’s not really something fatal unless I want to nurse it. Ha ha. So I have nothing much to worry about — save for my mom’s paranoia in my minimal fiber and green-leafy-veggie (as the doctor had put it) intake. 

The whole of next week will be my certified hell week — it’s even worse than last week’s! I have four exams, a photography lab exer due monday, an oral exam and an exercise  for my major, and a feature article due friday. Just when I was expecting to have my summer in the middle of next week, additional requirements fell right at my feet. Well, I have been ranting about this since yesterday; and honestly, ranting about the things you have to do without actually accomplishing anything, can get really tiring sometimes. I guess I should remind myself to follow my own word of advise for others: “Take everything one at a time.”

Now that we’re talking about what’s ahead, I suppose I have to tell you guys that I haven’t found a summer job yet. So I guess I will be bumming around for the next couple of weeks. Gah. At least I’m assured that I have a lot of work to do once next school year starts; I have been elected as the Parliament Minister (aka vice president) of the org I’m currently active in. So yeah,, it’ll be a busy year. Maybe I should start seeing summer as the break from the stress; or maybe, a conditioning for the ’stress’ I’ll be having when next semester begins.

Well, that is the update for now. I’m tired.. I just got home from my university. I’ll try to write here as often as I can. soon.

Death Anniversary

I remember that morning vividly. My older sister and I had trouble waking up, as we always had for every Christmas dawn mass. I wore my white blouse and red plaid skirt, and my older sister wore jeans and a collared top, both ready to head for school right after the post-mass breakfast. When we got to the parish, it was still dark and everyone wore jackets or long-sleeve tops as it seemed to be one of the coldest christmas mornings for the season. We were with our dad then, and we headed straight to separate seats. My sister and I went to the choir area and my dad, as he usually does, took his seat in the row nearest to the altar. No sooner had we settled ourselves when a choir mate broke the news to us. She first whispered to my sister’s ear bringing my sister to tears. When the message was relayed to me, as an initial reaction I usually have, I tried to stop the tears from falling. But it was too much to bear that I had to exert extra effort in preventing myself from crying, making it hard for me to sing during the mass because there felt like a rock stuck in my throat. Seeing how my older sister could not stop herself from breaking down, I just could not add myself to the scene. When the three of us got home, my dad praying with us on the way, my eldest sister was already waiting for us in the patio, her eyes swollen. Both my sisters hugged right there in the patio, wailing and finding comfort in each other. Seeing them, my eyes started watering up so I hid in my room to cry silently. 

That happened five years ago, in the morn of December 18. Now I find myself standing in front of her ossuary. A picture of her was neatly placed on top of a pillar, with flowers laid right beside it. I looked from the ossuary to the picture, and started thinking to myself how beautiful she really was. She knew me as this high school girl who just had her goth phase, as this alto singer who probably didn’t sing enough in the choir. I knew her as the ‘tita’ of the choir, the one taking care of each and everyone of us. A dear friend to my choir mates, my neighbors, my family and I, and a humble servant of the church. Even as her cancer started embracing her totality, she continued fighting and doing what she can to help the community. Until the day when she could not stand from her bed anymore, being taken care of a hired nurse, and could only be visited at certain hours of the week. 

Those years were very crucial for the parish because it was only during then when the Bishop finally gave us the parish title. It was a break or make for all the appointed officers, as the community had to be built for hte church. And our dear friend whose remains lay peacefully in that ossuary, was the one who raised up both the youth and the choir ministries. She was one of those people who pushed me to sing in the choir, back when I was in fifth grade. She saw me grow up in serving the parish, and every time we’d have the chance to talk about how I was doing, I had always enjoyed it. She inspired all of us in so many ways, and now that I’m continuing the struggle in living my day to day life, I’m still reminded of her. Every time I achieve accomplishments for myself, for my family and for the community, I feel that she is proud of me. However, whenever I do things that are not of accord to the faith, I feel that she is still watching over me.

in every moment I find myself standing in front of her remains, I never fail to ask myself if the things I’m doing at present are the things that would make her proud of me. If I’m living up to my duties as a Catholic as well as she had. She will always be my inspiration in in upholding the work, my dear friend who had watched me grow up — and still do, even to this day that she has gone. 

“Wala ka man sa’king piling,

nadarama ko pa rin pag-ibig mo.

Nadarama ko pa rin..

sa ihip ng hangin..”

Even though you’re not with me, I can still your feel your love when the wind blows.

Pain

I think I have a heart problem. 

Nope, not anywhere near figuratively. I meant literally. 

My heart has been experiencing momentary pains around two times a day for almost two months now, and I seriously dread going to the doctor to have it checked up. I mentioned it to my dad a few weeks ago but I think he forgot all about it and I don’t want to go through all that effort to remind them again of my current state. Simply because I don’t like hospitals and doctors.

Stephen left for Malaysia yesterday. He’s to compete in the 14th ASEAN University Games in Kuala Lumpur and will be staying there for two weekends. Ha ha. I really hope he does well!

Ohanna

 

my family

 

When I attended the 5:30 pm mass at St. Therese of Lisieux last tuesday, I couldn’t help but shed tears during the post communion. It was one of those moments when I found myself in front of God, filling myself with overwhelming emotions. Too overwhelming for comfort. 

Lately, we’ve been hearing bad news about our extended family members in my mother’s side. It has always been a rocky side, that one. My uncle hasn’t been going home for the longest time already. For some of us, we were sort of expecting this. Back in summer, when my father and my siblings brought me to the airport for my trip to Brunei Darussalam, we decided to eat early early breakfast somewhere else before my flight. While we were seated waiting for our food, my older sister saw a suspiciously looking couple seated at the table adjacent to ours. We didn’t want to give it much attention since we’ve always known that particular uncle of ours to be one of the most righteous in the family. Whatever we saw, was something we didn’t count as a sign of infidelity to his family — rather, it was something we didn’t WANT to consider as that. 

Which was why, seven months after that, when my aunt and my mother got to talking on the phone because of the latest death in the family (my grandmother’s sister died of cancer two weeks ago), my aunt couldn’t very much help it but cry to my mother. Just because he hasn’t come home, and because his reason of not coming home on a Sunday evening was office work. My heart sank. Of all my relatives from my mother’s side, my uncle was the last person I considered to have the tendency to commit such things. My aunt cried on the other end of the line because she didn’t want to believe the tangible proof reality was showing her. That her husband could be out with someone else right at that very moment, and in the consecutive days that he was gone from home. I couldn’t believe it. They were so happy… they seemed so happy in our past reunions.

Right there at mass, while the choir sung a mass song I didn’t know, I just had to cry. It breaks my heart to see the people who are very close to my life actually be the ones experiencing the things I see only on television. And to be kneeling down right in front of the God who is the reason for everything, I felt very confused. I felt grateful that it wasn’t my family who’s being directly tested this way. But at the same time, I felt like questioning why he had to let this happen to my uncle and my aunt. The Querida (sorry for the term — and also the comment following this) isn’t pretty at all. And I just hate the fact that my uncle could be associating with this woman more than he should be associating with his own wife. 

Too near. They’re just too near for comfort. Suddenly I fear the possibility of this happening my own family. Lord, I love my immediate family too. Please keep us this way for as long as we live. And for my aunt and my cousins? Please take my uncle back home.

Aftermath of the rain

Forks-like.

That’s what I would call the kind of weather we’ve been having in LB for two consecutive days now. Forks is this cold and wet town where the story of Bella and Edward Cullen started — that small town where the sun barely shows itself to. To be honest, although this may sound a little pathetic, I’ve been feeling more like Bella lately. The stoic look I put on a daily basis could actually pass for that pale-faced woman’s. The phenomena is getting to me. This is bad. Ha ha.

The sight that the rain leaves LB turns me into a hideous breathless little girl ready to jump into the mud or somehting. 

In all honesty, I really like the weather. I like walking in the cold, with my hands in my pockets, feeling like nothing in this world could ever rush me to do anything. Everything, or rather everybody’s on slow mode. And I’m not exempted from the lot. I could take my time in acting like a complete sloth in the cold. I like how the wind brushes through my cheeks and blows right straight through my hair. I like the feeling of the damp floor under my shoes, and how everything around me is moist. This kind of weather sets me in the contemplative mood, thinking about the littlest details of my life without having to worry about anything. 

This is the weather that actually compels me to slow down and take a good look at everything. When the world beautifully sits still having just washed by the rain. Nothing beats that. It’s like I could take forever in walking to my classes, just appreciating the calmness of the weather. Get late, and it wouldn’t matter. Ha ha. (Rushing won’t do you any good anyway. The ground is too slippery, you just might slide down to your butt Ha ha)

Maybe my preference for this weather has something to do with me wishing my soon Edward Cullen to surprise me jumping out from some bush or something. Ha ha.

Dear uncle, please go home.

Picture this scenario. Two saints looking down at us from where they live in heaven; one asks, while observing a man doing wrong deeds on Earth, “Why is he doing such things? Why is he so weak, so vulnerable?” Then the other saint looks and answers, “..because he is human.” The saint who asked the question nodded and said, “ahh.. I see.”

Now of course, in reality, saints would know why we’re vulnerable since they too had braved the material path we’re all leading now. For me though, life and everything that’s related to it goes beyond just being understood as being ‘human’.

Some people would justify the mistakes they commit by admitting to people that they’re just humans who fall once in a while. Now whenever I find myself using that as a reason to my shortcomings, I feel like the lowest person on earth. Simply because our intrinsic nature as humans has so little to do with our rationality, our capability to understand, to be stronger than what we really are and to stand firm on our decisions in life.

Maybe, if we stop recognizing that we are only human, in terms of how we deal with our lives and our lives with others, we’d realize our potential to be someone greater than what we are now. A person with boundless limitations, a person who knows how to love greatly, a person who knows self-control.

Why can’t we go beyond our genetic make up and be more than just these people driven by hormones and moods? Why can’t we be more?

I still have my bags to pack

So, a bunch of my clothes have been occupying half of my bed for the past three hours already. I’m supposed to shove them in a duffel bag soon. If I don’t, I’ll cause a delay for our trip to LB, and we still have to visit the wake of my mom’s aunt — which then makes schedule more complicated than simply just going to LB. Why the delay? I don’t know. I like being home I guess.

Being home means, I get to spend more time with my other siblings and my dad; being home means I could watch as many movies as I like while doing schoolwork; being home means I could be online the whole day. Trust me, with my mum around, my brother and I can’t really do that in LB. I guess it has something to do with her graduating as cum laude in college, thus expecting us to exert the same effort she had exerted before. But her take on things is very different on how I perceive studying and grades. I still see the extra-curricular activities weighing more than the books and the exams; ‘cos honestly, I’m learning more from them. Anyway, let’s not make this entry about her. Ha ha. 

There’s this sadness in my heart whenever I ride through that South Luzon Express way (SLEX); the ride is so long that I just try my best to sleep through it. It prevents me from thinking of the things and the people I’ll miss whenever I’m in LB. I have been playing around with the thought of me transferring to another campus a lot, I just never got around to doing it. Because believe it or not, there are great people in LB who I would also miss if I stay full time in manila. Also, I’ve already finished taking up 24 units of my core courses in Development Communication — making transferring a very foolish thing to do. I have great professors, an organization that teaches me to push my limits to all extents, classmates and friends who have always been there for me since the beginning of my adjustment to the campus. Plus, I haven’t flunked any subject so far, meaning I’m not doing bad in the province, academic-wise. I couldn’t ask for more really.  Well, except for diminishing that SLEX between the province and the metropolis. If I could bring the two of them closer, I’d really be happy. 

Dear you,

This sadness in my heart whenever I go to LB must be greatly caused by you. If I could have it any other way and be closer to where you are, I’d do it for you. I miss you everyday. But there is ME, my friends, the education, and the hopes of finding my own little piece of niche in this world. All this makes me who I am. And if this distance is a great part in making this relationship work, I’m willing to accept it for all it has to offer, however meager the perks of it may be. Because I know that at the end of this long road called SLEX, I’ll have you waiting for me. 

I feel sad thinking of how you’re having a very hard time dealing with the distance between us. The truth is, I won’t be there to comfort you. I wouldn’t really know when that smile of yours will turn into cold pursed lips of longing. That’s why you have to support yourself while I’m away, because I need to have the assurance that you’ll be fine even without me physically present by your side. Know that whenever you come across my mind, I feel like the happiest woman alive. Whenever I feel frustrated, sullen and just disappointed with my day, I have you to think of, and everything will start looking fine.

I want you to be happy.

Holly

Let’s get the job done, shall we?

Here is my list of subjects for this semester (as promised):

SOSC1 Foundations of Behavioral Sciences

SOSC2 Social, Economic and Political Thought

ENG2 College Writing in English

AGRI161 Introduction to Innovation and Entrepreneurship in Agriculture

DEVC140 Basic Photography

DEVC120 Developmental Writing

 

I have to be honest. I’m not a very patient person. 

But rationality and the fact that I’m a human person with a capable brain makes me stretch my patience to all levels of limits. I try to look at the circumstances, I even try to tell myself that impatience will just make me feel and look old — something I’d rather not have. 

Last night, after so many knocks on my door and shouts by my mother from the living room, I got out from my anti-social state in my bedroom and joined my father in eating dinner. He inquired on what I was busying myself on, since I’ve practically locked myself in my room for almost the whole day. “Oh you know. The typical things. DEVC140 assignment, Jock work… And Oh! This last one’s not so typical: A group work in DEVC120 which, I have the pleasure of doing on my own!” I wasn’t looking at him when I said that, since I was trying to focus myself on efficiently getting food on my plate, and by which, I won’t be wasting time. That wasn’t an exaggeration. “I don’t like groupworks, because there’s a big tendency that you’ll be doing the work on your own; or, just two of you would be doing the job of five people,” my dad said. I couldn’t agree with him more; we both agreed on our preference on individual work over the group works. Why? Because first, you get the job done according to your schedule; second, you get the job done; and third, you get the job done. Ha ha.

I have three group-mates (out of 9 maybe?) who sent in their “researches”. They were on time, I’ll give them that. But I think we all agreed to send in synthesized reports, and not the copy-paste ones. I could’ve saved time in NOT checking my email, and just getting their researches from the pages I’ve already checked beforehand. 

Well, I keep telling myself I’m not angry in any way whatsoever.  If I’m the one to finish this group report, then I’d have to prevent myself in losing twice. I honestly don’t want to feel old. It practically goes against my will of being free-spirited and “whatever goes, I’ll be happy — Life with no complications, yadda yadda yadda”. I’ll keep the smile on my face, thanks.

Also, I don’t think I’m in a lose lose situation here. I’m in fact learning a lot about the health situations in my country, Cambodia and Laos PDR. I’ll just treat this as an addition to my knowledge bank or something. This ain’t so bad after all.

As for my group mates? Oh I don’t know. Eat nuts.

I’m all packed

Yes, as the title states it, I am already packed for LB. My dad wants us to leave really early because he has a meeting in Manila right after lunch. So what’s going to happen is that he will drive us to the bus station, and from there, my little brother and I will go busing to our country school. Unlike other students who come from the provinces to go schooling in Manila, my brother and I does it the other way around. 

My weekend was really great. Awesome, in fact. Details are written in my actual diary. Ha ha.