Grief without a name…
To everyone, I look invincible. And I cannot blame them for that because that’s the mask I wear, the image that I project. People, they cannot see what lies underneath superficiality.
I smile and I laugh as if my life is a bed of roses, as trite as that may sound. I always look as if the world we’re in is PERFECT–without anything to trouble the mind.
If only they could see through me…they would see what I’m really going through–I’m carrying on my shoulders, arms, even my legs problems that are meant for 50-something people.
I envy people of my age for almost–if not all–of them have problems which are of cardiac in nature. You know what I mean. OK, in lay man’s term–LOVE LIFE. I envy them for they’re concerned with very trivial things–how they can be "in" the latest fashion or trend, how they can get the latest model of this and that, how they can make their parents allow them to go to a party or night out at the bars and stuff like that. I guess that, considering the kind of "problems" that they’re used to handling, if they would be asked to face the same troubles that to me are already "trivial", they would indubitably choose DEATH.
I don’t know how I got (and am getting) through them. I guess it’s my strong character and positive outlook and thinking which have been helping me get by. And my faith too in Allah is an important factor.
BUT.
Like all things in this world which stop at a certain point, my being strong seems to have dwindled.
I am tired of being strong. Sometimes I wonder if it’s really being strong or sourgraping. I am tired of thinking positively. I am exhausted of looking at the bright side of things. I am tired of telling myself and others that it’s gonna be OK. I am sick and tired of putting on a happy face when my world is falling apart. I am tired of fighting and being a fighter. I AM TIRED. SICK and TIRED.
Sometimes, I deny what I have been telling myself all along–that these troubles and problems are mere tests or trials from God. I think that they never leave me because I am being punished by Him for some reason that only He knows. I may have committed something that deserves lifetime punishment, a felony that deserves the penalty of reclusion perpetua to death. If I’d be given the right of choice, I would pray for the capital punishment to be imposed upon me rather than suffer little by little in this cruel, wicked world.
If it is my fate in this world and His will for me to be unhappy, to fall apart and to live a life of incessant problems, then I submit myself without objection. If it will give Him ultimate happinness and satisfaction, so be it. I am weak and too powerless to do anything about it–I am His creation and His servant. I guess I just have to allow all these problems to fall upon me without defending myself…and just let myself drown in them…slowly…till the Angel of Death finally carries me to wherever lifeless bodies go…
How much does life cost?
I was so disgusted with the doctors and hospital staff at the hospital where my sister is confined. It was an appalling sight to witness how they refused certain patients to be admitted because the latter couldn’t pay the down payment. It’s a hospital policy, they explained. My heart broke for those who had to beg and shed a tear before they could secure admittance in the hospital. It was dehumanizing.
Didn’t they (doctors) take an oath and vow to protect and save lives? From what I’ve seen, it seems like they give more due weight to money than the life of the patients. Money, indeed, is the root of all evil–how it can corrupt even the most saintly human being!
And from what I know, it is illegal for hospitals to employ that "pay first before we admit you" policy. Something has to be done about this. It’s just…disgusting.
God has always been with me :)
These past two weeks or so have been such an emotional rollercoaster ride for me. First, I had my mid-term exams. Those who know me well are very much aware of how I can transform into a paroxysm of sundry of emotions when exam week comes. Mostly, I evolve into someone who needs compulsory confinement in a mental institution. I practically don’t sleep (not only because I spend the whole time studying, but because the mere thought of having the exam wouldn’t put me to bed). I drink 6 cups of coffee a day. I go loco.
And I’m quite disappointed with one of my exams. Not that I didn’t do my best…and that I’m blaming others for my misfortunes…but it’s just that the professor is so…UGH. I can’t even come up with the exact word to describe him. He’s so evil that I have to invent a new word just to show others how evil he is. I just don’t like the way he discourages the class. He keeps on slapping on our faces that we won’t pass his subject; that if we do get high grades, it’s because he’s compassionate and not because we work hard for it and thus deserve it…I just hate him. But I cannot afford to do so for I will end up hating the subject as well. I’m trying to find a reason to like him…but he’s just so repulsive. UGH. Psycho. Anyway, I’ll just do what I have to do and leave the rest in God’s hands.
My emo story doesn’t end there. Right after my exams, my younger sister got sick and she needed to be confined (no, not in a mental institution like me) at the hospital. I had to go home and miss my constitutional law class. I brought her to the hospital with my older sister. And I had to stay there for three days, watching over and taking care of her. And what’s harder than that is I had to study for my mid-term exam in criminal law. It was two days away. It was so hard to focus for I had to keep an eye on her while I tried memorizing the codal provisions. Oh God…
And as if he was a deus ex machina, my brother came and said he’d take over. Thank God. I needed a break. I needed to read and study for I am going to be having my round 2 recitation in all subjects this week.
When I got home…I reflected on certain things. God, why am I going through a lot of things…things that I don’t seem to have the strength to go through?, I asked silently. It seemed to me that there are always things that hinder me from…fully concentrating in law school and realize my dreams, which I share with my parents. Maybe it’s not for me, I thought. I’m giving up…and then when I opened my friendster accound today, someone sent me a testimonial and it read:
"i must say that soon you’ll make a very fine prosecutor…. :] [lol, so random!]"
I broke down and cried. I know that to everyone, it’s a little thing. But to me, after going through so much, it’s everything that I needed to hear to hold on…and keep going.
It’s from Margarita, my high school Math teacher’s daughter. She was very small then, I remember. And we (my batch) loved her mom so dearly. (Mrs. Merciditas Felizco). Thank you so much, Garet. With that little message, you revitalized someone’s life. 
And then the other day, I ran into a grade school classmate of mine in UST, whom I haven’t seen for many years. I was delighted to see him because he used to be very, very small and my Taiwanese best friend and I would play with his hair. Hahaha! After exchanging pleasantries, he told me "Congratulations!" My eyebrows met, puzzled at what he was congratulating me for. "I saw your name on the bulletin board…" "Oh, that," I said, smiling sheepishly. "Galingan mo ha!"–that was his reminder before he left with his girlfriend.
I guess God knows where I’ve been and what I’ve gone through and He knows too that I’m on the verge of snapping into two–like a rubber band that has reached its "elasticity point", so to speak. And He sent me those "angels" (He manifested Himself through them, I guess) to reawaken my almost dead spirit and remind me that all that’s been happening is part and parcel of the journey I’m going through. It’s not just the "reading and studying all day and night" hardship that I have to surpass, but there will be a lot more challenges before I finally stand at the zenith of my dreams. And by then, I would be able to see the beautiful horizon and look down and see the challenge-filled trails that I took to get up there. And it’s going to be worth it…all worth it. Beautiful.
I guess that life is just like this. C’est la vie, as the French put it. But no matter what barriers may be put before me, I will never give up without a war! My dream of becoming a lawyer is not just about becoming a lawyer per se. It’s a life-changing journey in which I will be able to learn myriad of things about life–which I will certainly never learn elsewhere–it’s a journey that will build my character as a person, and mold and toughen me (actually, it already has).
And so I’ll take another step–another step to the pinnacle. God, please always be with me.
Stolen poetry
"To King Theroc of Chrezinallya"
I am enthralled
I saw
You came
You conquered
I am your territory
My heart, your Land
I
Abscond and abandon what you have found
Prior to me, dear Leviathan
For they are not the country
You are destined
To exercise illimitable sovereignty
II
Your fate lies in me, my King
Let me bask in thy Love
And let me die a happy woman…
III
You shall be loved, absolutely
Be served and be pleased
By me, your entitled Queen
And loyal to you, I shall be
Far better than a thousand treacherous traitors
You commanded as your army
IV
I shall make you the greatest King ever to live
In the thousand pages of history
And you shall die a happy man
And rest in eternal peace and bliss…
*The infinite beauty of great minds. This is posted with the unvitiated consent and permission of my dear friend, Anne, who is also a bona fide political scientist like myself. Would you believe it? She wrote the above piece after reading a very boring, dull book on the life and works of John Locke, Thomas Hobbes and Jean Jacques Rosseau? How great minds can turn boredom and dullness into something to be admired–beautiful indeed.
Stupid, cheesy, untitled song for nobody–courtesy of my cluttered head
I
Hey, what should I say?
To make you look this way
Where I’m standing, frozen
II
Hey, how can I make
You feel the love contained
In my heart that’s been broken
III
Hey, could you feel the same
Could you feel this way
I’m letting my heart open
*Pre-chorus 1:
I feel weak
I can’t sleep
I can’t breathe
Your presence can break me into pieces
I can’t speak
I tend to freeze
No, I can’t think
My head shuts down
When you’re around
*Chorus:
I will love you more
Than my heart has been designed to do so
I will love you for sure
Till I expire, till I breathe no more
IV
Hey, would you stay
Or would you just break
My heart and leave me weepin’
V
Hey, please be mine
Even if you’re tied
Cause I can’t hold on much longer
Than this, I’ve been waitin’
Oh, listen baby
Right or wrong, I will love yah!
{VI
Come on
And be with me
Love me now for
I love you
Like no one else can do
Undying, that’s what my love is for you
Never will I break your heart in two–so
Get lost with me in the uncharted planes of love so pure…}
*Pre-chorus 2:
I can’t feel
No, I can’t see
Anything
But you and the happiness that you bring me
Is this real
Or make-believe
Show me please
You are taking
Over me!
**Just some stupid, cliche song I concocted while reviewing for my exams. Just giving my smothered brain cells some space to breathe in. My sister likes the melody, though. A lot.
The Concept of Happiness and “Baras”
"We pay for the consequences of our pleasures." Ahhh…how axiomatic.
There is no such thing as happiness in life–it does not exist and never was it attached to the conception of life on Earth. It only resides in our minds–happiness is what we think it to be. It is but just a chimera that our mental faculty molds.
We are in love, we say we are happy. We are praised and given accolades, we say the same thing. In all these cases in which we declare to the world that we’re happy…well, we’re really not. We attach happiness to things that we give importance to. But…we’ve never been really happy…and we will never be.
The things that make us ecstatic–the moment that they take life on the ground–they die. They’re transient, ephemeral–they have a life span of 0.000000000000000000000612 miniseconds. Happiness, with its characteristic of being short-lived (like modern day marriages that crumble down to debris once the couple leave the place where that had their honeymoon) thus butresses the concept that happiness does not live in our midst.
And don’t you notice? After 5 minutes of being happy, giggling like a person compulsorily confined in an asylum, you’d find yourself crying an ocean for the rest of the week. You find youserlf under a gloomy, morose blanket of sadness. The sky turns monochromatic–grey clouds and incessant, unremitting rain. That’s an apt illustration of "we pay for the consequences of our pleasures". You see, in every aspect of our lives, that idea of paying a certain fee for 1 second of bliss is but apropos. You eat a bar of chocolate that gives you an almost orgasmic pleasure one day…and the next day, your mother goes ballistic and berates you for rendering dysfunctional the weighing scale. You search for and obtain carnal knowledge, you get a long chain of troubles that would never end till you breathe your last. We, the Royal People of the Lake (Maranao), have an exact term for this idea that’s taking me zazillion words to express in this post: we call it "baras". We believe that when one attains so much happiness (or laughs too much as an expression of that state of elation), he shall find himself weeping or…find himself in a lachrymose state later on. It’s a sick cycle. And I don’t dismiss such belief as mere superstition, despite my scientific, rational and logical nature (this is a big lie. I’m a lunatic, running wild, free and careless). It is true…for it has shown its face to me quite a number of times. And it’s scary, eerie and bereft of pulchritude…that face–marred, mauled and distorted to something that cannot even be depicted as ugly. It’s way beyond that. I do not wish to see it anymore.
Which made decide to just reserve my right to happiness, if there is such at all. I try not to look for it…or find myself in that state. I don’t want to "pay for the consequences of my pleasure" anymore. I thus deprive myself of happiness…or things that would make me feel, smell and taste it. Nah. It’s too much a price to pay. I’d rather be just…yeah, neither happy nor sad (or depressed). I’d rather be somewhere midway…between those extreme opposite states of mind, somewhere neutral, if at all.
And guess what? I’m happy being there!
It’s OVER!
Not really. We still have one more exam…criminal law. Blame it on my professor’s senile psychosis. Or his being too busy to remember.
It’s time for me to shiver and bite my toenails!
The most dreaded week of a student’s life is so close that I can almost taste it. My knees are trembling, my thoughts are in disarray and my head–it’s never been cluttered as before. I need a molecule-sized housekeeper to get inside my brain and clean things up before, yes, the start of the exam week! Aaaah! It’s my mid-term exams and I feel like puking my innards out. That won’t be such a beautiful sight, eh?
I have this high school friend who’s so terrified of exams that she declared in one slam book (I don’t really remember if that’s what it’s called…yeah, I’m getting old): I fear EXAMS more than I fear God or the Angel of Death! Hahaha!
Anyway…
Yeah, exams can be very terrifying. If I were to suggest any terrorism tactics to the extremist elements of our society, exams would definitely be number one on my list. But like all problems in life and the fears that we have, we just gotta face them, bravely till the very last one. And of course, we should arm ourselves by of course…sleeping and watching TV! Hahaha!
Kidding aside, well…for me the people who inspire me to face the most dreadful exams on earth–law school exams, that is–are my parents. They are the raison d’etre of my very existence, of every good (well, assuming that I do something good) I do in this life. They keep me going…they push me to go beyond my limits and strive for excellence and never settle for mediocrity. (OK, I’ll shut up now. I sound like a school principal admonishing the studentry). And I’m so grateful that I chose UST law school to "till my mind" (I borrowed the latter line from one of the greatest lawyer-professors in UST, Atty. Samson Alcantara a.k.a Sam Maybe. He’s 72 years old but he looks like he’s 63 or something, no sucking up to him! And yeah, he placed 3rd when he took the bar exams…and despite all his achievements in life, he exudes so much humility. When I first saw him last semester, I thought he was just some facility guy! He’s not wearing the usual "barong" or suit that most lawyers attire themselves with to look "prestigious". Such a humble, down-to-earth person…oh, people like him do inspire me!) because…I don’t know, everything about it is just inspiring me to study and excel…my professors are very supportive. It really is my destiny to be in UST law…the fact that I’ve already decided about going there 5 years before I actually got in. Thank Allah. I pray that UST will be the ladder which will lead me way up to the zenith, the pinnacle of my (and my parents’) dream. Inshaallah. Ameen.
Study,
Study,
Study,
Read,
Read,
Read,
Pray,
Pray,
Pray,
and above all, be humble…always
"Break a leg" to me! It’s time to hit the books…literally. Toodles!
Nazarene Cali? Hmm…not bad.
*Thank God it’s the 400th celebration of the Black Nazarene today. Not that I attach any personal religious significance to the event…I’m grateful because we have NO CLASSES! Now I have time to study for obligations and contracts.
**"Are you named after the Black Nazarene of Quiapo?" I get that query all the time. Just yesterday, a friend of mine asked me that. And for the nth time, I had to explain where my parents picked my name. "It’s an Arabic term which literally means ‘two eagles’. Figuratively, it means ’soaring high’. But I wasn’t named such because of its literal or figurative meaning. My Mom was a big fan of this Egyptian actress of the same name. So she thought the best way to express her being a fanatic of the actress is to name her seventh daughter after her (Nesrin the actress)."
***One of my professors, Atty. Calilung, calls me the "two-headed eagle" after I explained to him what my name means. And oh, we’re relatives too. He’s a distant uncle of mine! Hahaha!
****Oddly, I’m the only child in the family whose name starts with letter N. Six of the children all have names that start with letter A. The other three have names that begin with M. I’m a loner, an outcast. Maybe my parents thought I was (or still am) eccentric.
Oh, I’ve always been strange…in a creepy way. Hehehe.
More coffee and sleepless nights…
School starts today which means only one thing: countless sleepless nights again. But it’s OK coz I feel so stagnant at home.
This might be my last post in a long, long time. SIGH. Toodles!
Til my next post ;P
