bring in the Kleenex!

My body’s been different lately. And no, I’m not talking about puberty.

It’s really weird how I’ve been getting frequently sick over the past few months. It has only been a few weeks past since I have had a fever, which, if I may add, unfortunately fell on my summer class’ final examination day. (And it cost me a few items on my test, thankyouverymuch.)

But then, even if I’m still trying to recover, here I am again facing yet another illness.

My eyes are actually drooping like that of a person with Horner’s syndrome as I continue to stare at the computer screen. With a tissue paper strategically wedged on my right running nostril, I am having hard time breathing --- *sniff-sniff*--- and with my left uncontrollably snuffling the dust off of my keyboard, my condition’s getting worse.

Yes, obviously, I have the colds.

I really just hope it’s not A(H1N1). Well, I haven’t been in contact with anyone who could’ve have had the virus. But in this age and time, not to mention with today’s disturbed state, nothing is impossible. Who knows if our Labrador, Rocky, might be nursing the viral disease? Or our boarder? Or the old lady who asked for scrap? Or the mosquito that feasted on my ever watertight legs yesterday?

Who knows, right?

To tell the truth, I think I got the colds from my niece. She was suffering from it last week and she might’ve contracted the disease to me. I haven’t left the house to go gallivanting since I had myself enrolled, so there’s a great chance Zeniah’s the culprit.
Out of all the possibilities that I have presented, together with the mosquito and all, I think this one’s 98% true. *teehee*

(Pause. I have to change the tissue paper on my right nostril with a fresh one. It’s getting soggy and unpleasantly heavy.)

…
…
…
…

Ok, where were we?

Aw, yeah--- the colds.

I was already in bed when I felt something mucoid from my nose. I kept wiping it off every now and then but there was just no stopping. It kept me awake thereafter.
So here I am, typing away this entry.

I haven’t taken any meds yet. I was supposed to take one this evening and I asked my mother for a cold tablet. Apparently, we ran out of stock. I’ve decided to fix myself some juice instead. But then again, we ran out of that as well. So, in the end, I settled with water and a glass of fresh milk.

So far, I don’t feel well. But I have faith. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll be better.

Pray for me? =D

shit happens

‘Shit happens,’ they say… true enough it always does.

I’m not likely to come in regular terms with neither Luck nor Wellness. I am more attached to Luck’s wicked brother Calamity.

The truth of the matter is I’ve subliminally been a living example of Murphy’s Law for almost all, if not all, my life: What can go wrong, will go wrong.

It has only been recently that I have finally affirmed this… or, say, accepted. It didn’t really occur to me that I was jinxed… and if, by chance, it did, it eventually landed up being tossed at the ‘stupid-idea’ box and shelved at the ‘crazy-speculation’ ledge. I always found ways to dismiss any thoughts, suggesting that I had badluck written all over me.

I assumed that getting lost at church at the age of 6, which almost got me adopted, was only a life-spicing encounter;
I assumed that falling down the stairs during 4th grade was just a call by science to prove ‘gravity’ to me;
I assumed that damaging or losing 15 cellphones by unnatural cause was an opportunity of having a new one every now and then;
I assumed that entering a classroom by mistake, thinking it was my subject room assignment, was a way of meeting new people (regardless of the humiliation of being acknowledged for not being on the class list);
I assumed that destroying 2 dvd players, 2 desktops, 1 laptop, 1 mp3 and 2 mp4 players(1 of which is not even mine), 2 headphones and 2 inkjet printers was just a matter of faulty gadget purchase;
I assumed that my failure to take a picture of Chito Miranda at the Boracay airport even though he was literally sitting right next to me was because it would’ve made me appear like a pathetic fanatic (though I have nightmares about that meeting every night since then).

I have had myriad assumptions that got me off the hook from being called ill-fated. To some, those were lame excuses; to me, those were justifying reasons.

But it took me only one head-knocking incident to jolt me back to sentience:
Getting my hair stuck at the vent of my hair blower was the last straw.

I could still feel pain at the area where the blower bestowed its hot kisses the other day… its really HOT kisses. It was so hot; I think it fried my mind to ultimately conclude that I am indeed a mistress of calamity.

I don’t really know why life has chosen to torment me out of a billion other people. I mean, I’m good. I’m so good I could be Mother Theresa incarnate…

So how come bad things happen to me?

Study moderately

It’s been awhile since I had the luxury of time to blog. Myriad activities busied me the past days that it robbed me off of my leisure pursuit. The moment I’d settle down to spend a couple of my time on some writing, I’d get a sudden head-knock reminding me that I have to be somewhere else doing some schoolwork. I don’t even get the chance to fully position myself on a seat to relax anymore because just when I am about to have my derriere on a chair, I’d suddenly remember that I have to process something school-related. As if the close contact of my butt and the chair triggers some sort of electric shock, awaking some of the brain cells in my head that are responsible for student-conscientiousness. And mind you, my leisure time is not the only thing that has been taken from me by the demands I am currently facing. Even my social activities are being pushed aside; close enough to the brink of a cliff. I have the feeling that I’m becoming a school freak and that I’m losing contact with my inner self for putting too much of my mind on tasks and for setting aside my interests.



Chilling. Chilling because I’m becoming a monster in every sense of the word: ugly, intimidating, scary, tensed and highly unstable.



In the morning, I breeze the university entrance like a zephyr (despite the lack of sleep the night before). I enter the gates with not much of a problem (I never fear the chances of being eaten by the early bird because I was never the early worm… yah.. that’s the up-side of tardiness.) But I never believed the adage What starts well, ends well. The moment I proceed to the ladies’ comfort room, I get to prove that the adage was bogus. I start to get all depressed. I mean, who wouldn’t? Seeing myself in the vanity mirror looking like sh** wasn’t really something I’d consider celebrating about. And I get even more depressed once I enter the room and am welcomed by a heap of laboratory reports waiting to be rewritten and a bunch of experiments waiting to be performed. Seeing papers pile up on my experiment table makes me want to scream and run.



I spend 8 straight hours in school with no break 5 days a week… and the torture doesn’t end there. I spend 3 more hours studying for daily exams every night and another hour, making necessary preparations for the day after. The only time I get to breath is when I eat dinner. After that, I plunge down the ocean of work once again, praying I won’t drown.



Perhaps my mind is clouded with so many things already that it has also affected my sensitivity. One evening, I was writing a report that was due the next morning when my niece wanted to play with me. I was on my desk serious with my work when Zeniah came up to me, gripped my nose with her fingers and urged me to make funny noises. I wasn’t in the mood so I brushed her off and told her to go play somewhere else. Zeniah refused to heed my words and came up to me once again, making me brush her off the second time… and the third, and the fourth, and the fifth… I was cool at first but her persistence eventually got on my nerves that I actually blew my top and threw a fit. I was surprised in as much as she was. I couldn’t believe that I was able to do that to the poor child. Remembering the look of horror on Nyang2x’s face and the tears of innocent disappointment on her eyes still haunt me up to this very day. And I wonder if she would play with me ever again.





My niece is not the only one who’s suffering from my being stressed. My sister and brother have noticed my being easily aggravated even at the slightest provocation. Even my parents noticed it as well.





My preoccupation with school works has also made me miss a lot of the haps. I didn’t even know until last week that Ray was already a full-time male…(hehe) I didn’t even know until now that our office has been transferred from the 1st floor to the 3rd. And I didn’t know that my friend sent me an invitation to her debut via Friendster. I have missed a lot for having chosen to focus on what aspect my life, forgetting the rest.



And it’s not only that…





Because of my wont to maintain a straight 1 on my TOR, I have put my relationship with my girlfriend at stake. My constant absences have driven our once happy relationship down to a steep hill… and it’s really hard to get it back on track. (in as much as I want to elaborate on this one, I won’t… save the tearjerker story for a different blog.)



I have come to conclude that studying has done me more harm than it has done me good. Now, don’t get me wrong and don’t start lecturing me about priorities and the like because I very well know about it already. I’m not trying to persuade people to stay out of school or to take it less seriously. Each individual are in different educational/life sitch and there are established principles that simply don’t work out for some.



Take ME for instance. I’m not used to putting nerd-like efforts to school. And my attempt to be like one obviously tipped my world on one side, making everything in my life tumble. I wasn’t like this before. I’m more of a laid back person, relying on my capacity without stressing myself on being the best student my university ever had. That’s why, after I get through with this ordeal, I’ll get back to what I once was. No frills. No complications.



I might not be the best once I become the less-serious student once again. But I know I’ll be good. In time, I’ll be better. And eventually, I’ll be the best.



It’s better that way. So that the next time I want to have a crack at having even a wee bit of fun, I wouldn’t have to jump off of my seat like a crazy rabbit and run after another due homework.



Besides, I sooooooo do not want to act like a monster ever again. Not ever!

". . . lead me not into temptation."

In my entire existence, not a single day has passed me by that I have not been subjected to temptation. In every corner I see, in every path I cross, and in every thing I come upon, there is always that something that would make me wiggle my knees in surrender.


Our being a man: vulnerable and fragile (or so we insist), makes a very good Express Getaway when someone would ask us in an irritated tone, seemingly disdainful, "Why did you do it?"

Temptation. An occurrence easily justified by many by simply saying "Hey! I'm only human."


I admit. I am a frequenter of temptation.

For a minute, I'd appreciatively watch a taste bud-tickling Baklava sweetened with honey, sit prettily on a plate... I'd look around hoping not to catch another eye looking at the same priced treasure I had my eyes on and when there would be none, I'd be off performing my magical feat. The next minute, just like magic *POOF!* It disappears... (And off to my stomach it goes!)

Every morning, I am tempted to laze on my bed and just sleep. I once landed up reasoning with myself saying, 'Forget about school! I still have two more chances to be absent left before the teacher could drop me from her class.' I know. Bad, right? As if class attendance is similar to that of the Life Ups in the Supermario game: one down, two more left. (Lucky me if I get another mushroom on the way, then I get another one up!)

It's a minor thing to be tempted by a visit to La-la land or be tempted by a sweet-looking, mouth-drooling, lip-licking STOMACH-PLEASURE. There are a thousand other kinds of sitch that fall on a different categorical degree of temptation. Some are even infernal, if you know what I mean. *winks*


If you are faced with temptation and it stares you right in the eye, what do you do? Do you wobble in fear and melt like cheese on fire? Or do you stare back, poke it in the eye and say with conviction, “No!”


Temptation could be so strong especially for those who tried to resist it. Surely, those who once resisted the power of temptation could attest to the strength that it holds. And I’m even more positive that majority of those who tried to resist eventually gave up and submitted.


I used to think that when I am confronted with situations that would persistently demand my compliance, I am left with no other choice but to just submit myself rather than go through the tsuris of obdurately outbraving it.

As the cliché goes: If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Right??
Wrong!

Imagine if no one ever had the courage to say no to every temptation that would present itself like a naked woman in front of a man? We would all probably have an express ticket to the underworld by now. Or worse, we won’t need the underworld; Earth will turn out to be as hellish as any other place on the universe.

Remember, not everything that starts out good will end up well. Newton’s law of motion states: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. A variety of action-reaction force pairs are already evident in nature. Say for instance, it is impossible for anybody to slap somebody else in the face really hard without having his hands hurt in the impact. It is simple science and sense.

And do you remember how our dear mother Eve and dear father Adam got educated with Newton’s 3rd Law? The moment they decided to feast on the fruit of the tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, they secured themselves with a world of contempt and billions of children who, just like them, are slaves of temptation. If you would beg to differ and would insist to say I’m wrong, perhaps you need to think twice before you utter your prayer, ‘lead me not into temptation’ and try to remember the time you stuck your finger on the icing on the cake before it was even served.

Now, don’t you think it’s about time we practice becoming like Jim Carry before he became the ‘Yes-Man’ and start saying ‘No’ to those that we know would cause us moral deterioration and major damage?

Although at times it may seem more convenient to just go with the flow than fight the current, there is always that greater feeling of reward when you triumph over the things you actually gave effort to fight against.

Think about this, ‘would you rather give in to the temptation and suffer the guilt and bear the can of worms afterwards or would you rather struggle against the urge and savor the victory after winning the fight?

Lost for words

Bashful
,


-Jose Garcia Villa

Jose Garcia villa, the famous Filipino writer whose collections include: 'Poems by Doveglion', 'Many Voies' and a lot more, wrote the poem "Bashful", containing nothing more but a single comma.I cannot help but applaud the paradox that the poem exhibits. Bashful, yes.. but the boldness of the poem, the comma, the truth it articulately displays speak of so many things.


I envy him.

Why?


Because he found it so easy to express a fusion of meaningful emotions with a single punctuation while I, on the other hand, find it really difficult to express myself with just a single word.

And that's not it,the problem of finding something that would manifest my emotion is just one thing,to finally express it is a different matter entirely.Ugh!

I invoke the spirit of the Comma Poet, Jose Garcia Villa. Please shed me streak of your magnificence.

So if I even run down into a fit of anger, into the zenith of my happiness or whatever is in between,
I may be able to freely put it across.

And so that I may finally put an end to the silence I tend to resort into every time I stumble upon a sitch worth gnashing my teeth on.

I invoke thee.

Oh so help me God.