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.

Thursday, November 15, 2007



If you know me, I am not much of an affectionate person nor am I, even at the narrowest possibility, emotional. I merely pour out my feelings and I'd rather that I keep the pains, the joys; the sufferings and the accomplishments all to myself. And, surprisingly, I got used to it that way. Sometimes, I even think that I was ought to be born a boy because I share more emotional characteristics and physical interests with the opposite sex. Maybe, I was born a girl because God felt pity over my mother whose ultimate desire was to give birth to a baby girl. And much console over her prayers, I was born-- a girl with manly emotional characteristics.

But unlike those macho guys, I have my own limits as well. This gives me a good sign that I am perhaps smack at the thin line of boy-girl classification. I break down when I get burdened, troubled and worried; when I feel as if the whole world just threw its weight on me, thinking that I am some vast galaxy called Milky Way; when I realize that the deadline of some freaking project is hours away; when i knew I could have done better if.. blahblahblah. Some things just ought to drag me down and burry me under a huge stack of worrisome ideas. Negativity usual takes over. And voila, I see myself helplessly trying to move away from the stacks of burdens, just to gasp for refreshing air.

Realizations are something that do not come at the moment you want it to-- and that's a bitter fact we all have to embrace. If what I'm stating is not true, then the maybe Filipino saying that goes, "Nasa huli ang pagsisisi" would not have been born. Maybe, life has something to share to us of its rewards.

For a countless times, I have opted to strive to work harder; trash my old, bad habits and start anew. But things just go the way you not expect it to and even at the peak of excitement (for a new beginning-- a new you) *bang!* goes the huge explosion of some desirable temptation-- something you will have second thoughts of putting down.

The thought of unraveling the tangled up mangirl characteristics within me seem as vague and preposterous as hearing myself speak Mordvin infront of you. But infairness to the small degree of what's left of the "girl" feature, I think I had better grow into a more mature young lady. Yet, the thought of growing up with my father's characteristics seem to overwhelm me, making me feel that even though I am already beaten up, I can still stand firmly just like an old Narra Tree.