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I promised myself two months ago that I won’t blog but this… this deserves blogging.Emo kasi ako e. Bleh! Hahaha.
Can I just say that I know for sure that I will look for certain people in the new people I will meet.“Oh, man, I can talk about life in general with this girl while drinking Red Horse.I wonder if her dorm has a veranda?If so, this is my new Mia.”Or “Oh, this girl rattles easily; so cute.This is my new Karen.” Or, “Man, this guy is so hilarious, so easy to be with.My new Ross.” Or, “These guys are so amazing.My new LSW barkada – Jimmy, Ge, JJ and Mikki.” Or, “So fashionista, these girls.New Chels and Sands.”And most especially, “Oh, I’m getting along so well with this girl.This is my new Mels.”
But, my head tells me that, for sure, this really can’t happen.Because Karen is Karen.Ross is Ross.Mia, Chels, Sandy, Jimmy, Ge, JJ and Mikki are themselves. Mels is definitely Mels. No matter how much I’ll look for the people I’d spent the last four years in college with in the new people I’ll spend the next few years with, I know it’ll never be the same.
I’m lacking in patience, consideration and I can be really stubborn and uber moody as hell.These are the people who’d put up with me for four years.These are the people who’d put up with my crap for four years.The people who’d seen me at my worse.Some of them had even slept with me on the same bed, in the same room, and had seen me early in the morning, when I hadn’t taken a bath or hadn’t brushed my teeth yet.At my worst when my temper flare out of control.These are the people who’ve shown me real friendship just by sheer proximity – something high school friends had failed to do.These are the people who have the capacity to hurt me if they don’t invite me to their weddings or do not make me their kid’s godmother or do not go to me when they or their wives need a consult, like for surgery or for an OB-GYNE opinion.
It’s just different because to confer upon other people the identities of the people you’ve known prior to them is insulting.Sometimes we really can’t help it.But in the end we realize it’s just impossible because the new people will have pieces of themselves that would just be entirely different from the ones we really do know.
Thinking of not seeing the people you’ve spent a long time trying to know and knowing is hard.You try to stash away all the memories you’d had with them, both good and bad, and make more memories, all that you can cram into the short period of time you have left together.You try to memorize their faces and the things they do that make you laugh like crazy.You try to store in your long-term memory the many things that you know about them that others may not necessarily know, like certain mannerisms that make you love them but you won’t necessarily admit to knowing about them.But memories do fade.No matter how much you hope to God that those memories would stay with you forever, God’s not that considerate sometimes because life just happens.
I keep wondering if I would have had the same type of college experience if I’d gone to UP-D like I could’ve or enrolled in PolSci or Journ like I’d always wanted.But I guess not.I wouldn’t have had the same experience involving other people.I wouldn’t have undergone the same growing experience that made me, us, who we are now.Bio isn’t extremely hard really.I just dislike it a bit because I’m not really good at it haha.It is hard in comparison to most other courses though.So in Bio, we’d shared in the sufferings and agony we’d gotten from the workload and even all that crap from the teachers.
I kinda think that this BioBatch had been kinda like Grey’s Anatomy.We’d gotten so engrossed in the science that sometimes we’d just felt the need for drama.We took the smallest issues and blew them out of proportion.It’d been irritating sometimes, the people that had initiated the drama and most especially the people who’d blown issues out of proportion, but I guess that’s what made our four years so interesting.I won’t miss the drama but I’ll miss the people who’d stuck by you through all the drama.
My mom used to tell me a lot that you don’t need friends to get through life.Stand on your own two feet, don’t look behind you to see if your friends are keeping up.But I think we need friends – good friends - to keep us grounded.We choose the people around us well.It’s not realistic giving up pieces of yourself to people who do not deserve it.So when the letting-go moments arrive, it’s hard to break off a part of you that’s grown on you.
Time is a goddamn bitch, maybe even a bigger bitch than the Fates themselves.
I am a careful blogger. I don't like to talk, like verbally, so I type. But I make sure that what I type would be those things that I don't mind other people knowing. I'm careful that way. I have learned! Haha. When I blog, I think, I don't fucking emote. I blog for the sake of blogging; I do not blog to get advice unless if I ask for it. I do not blog to impress people with my English faculties because my Inglish facolties is deterorate. Most of all, I do not blog to entertain other people and I couldn't care less if nobody reads my blog. I sound mean. Hahaha, apologies.
What I hate about Now is that I am faced with this dilemma. I am pushed into this little space where I can't really tell anybody what's going on. The things I did, the decisions I'd made, a year and a half ago are apparently catching up with me. And it's making me go through things that I'd thought only happened in the movies! Like worry so much my teeth would chatter, really chatter. Like get poleaxed that I honestly honestly couldn't move my body no matter what my mind tells it to do. Like want to cry but couldn't because you'd been there, done that and it's an old story that's getting tiring. Like digging my nails into my palms just so my expression would remain fixed into a pleasant expression even though I couldn't breathe anymore. It's hard. But they're all learning experiences. But still hard.
The thing about friendship is that we're not really all that sure how deep our friendships go and if it is strong enough to withstand anything. That's what I'm afraid of. Words, when said, are pretty hard to take back because when they're out there and when people believe words, it either makes them happy or it hurts them. But the thing about friendship, true friendship, is that it entails honesty and I hate that because apparently my conscience is acting up.
I'd always thought that the past should always remain in the past and I've learned never to dig them back up. I don't talk about something that's happened a long time ago anymore because it's supposed to be an old story. But I am pushed, forced, to pick up that shovel and dig! I hate having to be forced into doing anything! But most of all I hate having to be forced into talking when I don't want to but have to because I can't breathe anymore.
Is this emoting because I don't feel goddamn sad right now; I'M FUCKING PISSED OFF!
Silence is the best offense. It's also the best defense.
I cannot believe how far I am going with this imploding thing. Haha. The things I do for the people I care for.
If murder was not a sin or a crime, I'd probably have committed the act already. I think it's a sin just thinking about it though. At least, I'm not doing anything.
How the did we get here?How did we get here so damn fast?We had it all coming but we thought we still had enough time to put it aside and to not think about it for awhile.But the moment is now here.Moment of truth! Haha.So it is a bit scary, this moment.But no matter how scary it is, we have to face it and see to how we should go about manipulating it.
Other courses say that pre-Med students have no reason to feel so pressured when graduation draws near.They say that because we’re still going to school after college anyway.But medschool is a whole different ball game.For other courses, it is college that decides their future.But for those wanting to get into medschool or even law school, it is college that decides which graduate school they can go to but ultimately it is graduate school that makes or breaks their future.However, it is still what you do in college that decides which medschool will accept you.Having connections is a good thing when you want to go to graduate school.Your GWA may not be all that good but if Daddy or Mommy has friends from your desired medschool, you have at least a 60 percent chance of being accepted.But one requirement of all Philippine medschools, which is rather hard to cheat, is the result of this thing called the National Medical Admission Test.Connections will not be able to help if you score low relative to other people who took the same test, which will just show that, relative to other people, you basically suck.Not only will it be a mere blow to your ego if you do score low but it’d be a really painful one because a low score would mean that you do not just suck per se but also that other people are better than you.It’s like a private type of humiliation.
My friends have already received their NMAT results.Since I had mine mailed to the province, my older brother will be the first one to see my score.Yay.I don’t even remember the last time I’d felt this kind of fear.Even when we were waiting for college acceptance letters during our senior year in high school, I had never felt this fear.The cockiness of youth, hell yeah.I knew I was going to get accepted into all the schools I had applied to and I did – all five of them – in the courses I had listed down.But four years in Ateneo has shown me that relative to some people, I can suck, but relative to others, I may not.But this time around, I have this feeling that I just might suck.I don’t know what I else I can be if I do not become a doctor.This is not a joke to me and to maybe most people who'd taken the NMAT.A low score will show me that I had either not done my best or I had fallen so damn low.This is my future and if I’d fucked it up, my mother cannot bail me out.What I think scares us all is the fact that our future at this very moment lies in our hands and if we fail at making it right, the blame will be ours alone.
My GWA is decent.I won’t make the Honor’s List by a few measly points but my GWA is decent – very much so.But this NMAT thing worries me.My heart palpitates when I think about the NMAT results and it isn’t the nice type of palpitation similar to what you get when you see the person you like; it’s really rather painful in the chest area, kind of hard to breathe, makes you want to hit something, makes you want to do to somebody what Barack Obama and John McCain would have wanted to do to each other before but couldn’t.I have been praying for two months for some sort of miracle – “Please, God, I hope I didn’t suck.” When I think about or worry over something, I do not wish to think about anything else.So when I think about the NMAT result and when it is going to arrive, I do not wish to worry over something else, which I do not understand.Sometimes I forget to eat just thinking about it.Joke!Haha.
My future is at the top of my priority list.I sometimes wish that time stopped when I was ten years old so I didn’t have to make decisions by myself that could make or break my future because I’m not sure I want to be fully responsible for my failures.When I ask my mom for advice these days, she always replies, “What do you think?”and it shows me that this time around this life is really essentially mine.Isn’t it scary that it only took such a short time for us to get from ten to twenty and it is rather hard because all you can do is just think about it and not talk about it because talking about it will merely rattle other people who are as scared as you are so what you do is just SHUT UP.
And if people who are scared had read this and are furthermore terrified because of this, I technically had not talked but still, apologies, mga bord. Ah, shit, screw that NMAT cut-off requirement.
I am tired and I don't want to talk about it. That's my point. I don't want to open my mouth and talk and hear what people have to say about what I just said because I am tired. So there. That's the reason why people blog: so they can talk and talk without having to talk and without having to hear what other people have to say but still know that, when they publish their blogs online, somebody may read and thereby may "listen." But they don't have to listen to what that somebody has to say.
The point of blogging lies in the essence of the pronoun "I." The essence of blogging lies in the (de)value of selfishness. The truth of life is that all humans are inherently selfish; some are just really good at hiding it. So I will use my humanity at this very moment and at several more moments to come because I am a person and because, honestly, I am tired. The fact that people have to blog to talk without being interrupted is testimony to the other fact that people are so selfish that they can't even listen to other people's voices.
I am two months shy of twenty. I admit, I really admit, that I had tried to grow, have grown just a little and hope to God will continue to grow because I still have a lot of growing up to do. When I was fifteen, I thought I could take on life and walk away unscathed but I was so wrong that I still see the scars. At eighteen, I thought I was mature enough to handle any emotional situation but I was still wrong that more scars were added. Now, I'll be twenty in a few months and, with these scars, I admit humbly that I am still a baby. A goddamn FETUS. A learning fetus. But a tired one at that.
Nobody can read minds and I am technically still a nobody. Maybe I'll forever be a nobody. But my point is that I am so tired of worrying. I am so tired of being nervous. I am so tired of trying to think what it is I'm supposed to do, what it is people expect me to do, what it is I should constantly apologize for, and of thinking what it is you're thinking. Sometimes, I wish to God there are some people I never had to meet in this life because when I think about them, when I see them, I feel my energy going away. That is why I am tired. Of laughing when I can't. Of smiling when I can't. Of doing anything when I can't. But I still do because, at the end of the day, it seems I can because we do what it is we do. We roll with the punches.
I have grown and part of the process is keeping my mouth shut. I wanted to be a good person. An open book too. But being an open book, I guess, was a bad strategy because when you put yourself out there, you tend to get more scars and I have enough already. So now I have learned to keep my mouth shut. I have learned WHY PRIVATE IS CALLED PRIVATE. We close the blinds in broad daylight because we crave privacy. We lock the bedroom door when no one else is home because of it. We pretend no one's knocking for it. Do my closest friends know? Maybe a little. But partial knowledge does no good anyway. Again, private is called private; it is not for public consumption. I intend to keep it that way.
They said the best way to get over something is to talk about it. Talk, talk, talk. Talk, talk, talk. But I'm tired of talking and I don't want to talk about it. I won't talk about it. I have not talked about it in awhile. Because whoever said keep talking about your problems is a fucking fool. Because talking about it aggravates the situation. Talking about it is like putting salt on an open wound. And talking about it never helps especially when you can't do anything about it.
I am tired of people talking about other people. Running their mouths about something that they know nothing about. Know it. You do not get to talk about it over dinner with your other friends; dissect other people's lives as though yours isn't as fucked up. Stop kidding yourself.
All of us, I know. We are all tired. I'm not being dramatic. I understand we are all tired. But admitting you are will show people you aren't kick-ass so yeah nobody really admits it. But I do. Maybe because I'm not kick-ass. Exhaustion is a universal thing and, although I do admit being weary, no way in hell will I say I'm already exhausted because I'm not. Just tired. I'll rest just a little and tomorrow I won't be. That's the way it is. We do what it is we do. We roll with the punches.
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