Friday, November 16, 2007



And then again, here I am blogging after I rant to my mom, my teachers, my sisters that I do not have time for myself. How amazing isn't it? Time comes, but I let it slip through my fingers like thousands of fine sand. And then, I come to take hold of another batch and once again, letting it slip through my clumsy fingers. Sometimes, there are things that develop into habits and tend to enrich even more as you try to shrug them away. How miraculously stupid.

Well, if you come to think of it, most of our regrets deal with time and most of our problems do not miss the interruptions of Mr Time Management. Even as early as highschool, you get an embittered taste of what it's actually like not having control over most things-- and, the fact that you do not get to stick your hands into the world clock desperately trying to push its hands backward even just for a year, a month, or a couple of days. Then again, maybe "past" would not have been a native excuse if it weren't for the "time is precious and you can't turn time back" thing.

When you come right down to it, time can actually be senseless yet simultaneously sensible. The mere method by which people come to spend their time is what matters in the end. However, most certainly, we come to points wherein we unnoticingly draw ourselves back from what really is behind the value of time-- memories, bitter truth, healthy realizations, and regret. Often, people fall into either the former or the latter and unfortunately, maybe I am destined to be falling under a strong foundation of regret.

Just today, I finally am able to breathe freely once again. Amidst the bothering thoughts and a couple of problems, I was able to feel a lump of burden lightened as I manage to rapidly glance over my second quarter report card. Contentment filled my inner system as I was able to bring out the idea that they were all fair scores. BUT, maybe, it could have been better if I put my efforts into schoolwork. Maybe, if my eyelids were strong enough to hold itself back and my thoughts weren't easily disturbed, I could have focused on a deeper level and perhaps, achieve something more rewarding. And maybe, if I didn't rant about lack of time or simply put, if I didn't waste precious golden time, I could have done a better job.

But for now, I guess that's all I made out of time and yes, I hear its lullaby calling me to bed. Soon she'll wake me up at the ungodly hour of five in the morning-- a little past the time the cock crows; and minutes away from seeing the glaring sun and the Nirvana-like rays above the smog-gy Manila horizon. At least, even just a bit, there is a signal of new hope-- as time wasted waves to me goodbye, and time-to-come tag me along its journey once again. I hope it will be a better one this time.