There goes the answer

I was not looking for it, but it came. It might not be the best option, but it was what I needed. It took me a two-hour bus ride from San Carlos City to Bacolod City to finally decide on what to do with my life.

Here it goes:

Law school. Exactly a year ago, I was determined to pursue law school, but well, life happened. I'm still up for it, but then I decided to postpone it for another year or two. Why? One, I cannot make the same mistakes again. I must be prepared with contingency plans if the first one did not work out. Two, I have my doubts (agaaain.) I don't want to head into law school half-heartedly. There can't be half-measures on my part. I can't take the risk and the judgment that comes after if I quit in the middle of law school. Third and probably the most legit reason, my younger sister is going to college this term. Hence, I am stalling law school. It can wait, but my sister's right to tertiary education can't.

Wanderlust. Because of the kick of the doubt, I also decided to search my calling--whatever it is. In order to find that, I will travel the country, searching pieces of myself bit by bit. I will give in to my wanderlust. I must find myself first. And when I do, I'll make a review of my life choices.

Books. I keep buying books, but I don't have the time to read them. Hence, the four-feet tall stash of unread books in my room. This year, I have to make sure that I read at least one book a month just to keep my brain cells from bumming. I can't afford to be stupid if I would go to law school, right?

Infinite Wanderlust

I will travel the world one place at a time. Soon, soon.

I started the year with a bang--booze from 9pm December 31, 2011 to 12:30 January 1, 2012 with five drunkards namely Kenneth, Erdie, Juno, Stef, and Faith--and decided that this would be the year for great adventures and steady exploration of the world, well at least, the Philippines.

In almost three months, I managed to compile three albums--Zambales in January, Cagayan de Oro and Sorsogon in February.

Potipot Island, Zambales

Team Malaysia (Kenneth, Yours Truly, Erdie, Faith, and Stef) doing the Barkada Shot

There goes the Walang Kamatayang Jump Shot

Touchdown Cagayan de Oro--the City of Friendship (How apt, Faith and Tin)
At Gardens of Malasag Eco Tourism Village
Park Cafe--where you can buy coffee/shakes at 45php max

El Presidencia Ruins in Barcelona, Sorsogon (It could have been a better archaeological site if the local government developed and monitored the area)

Rizal Beach (stayed at Vera Maris Resort--a perfect venue for Shake, Rattle and Roll movie)

And of course, it wouldn't be complete without a picture of Mt. Mayon!

As I end this post, I have to start packing for a trip (this time, it's official and pure business) to Negros Occidental. I have yet to see the itinerary, but I am sure that the experience would be as liberating and as educating as my previous trips.

Living in the Past

This is a celebratory (aka Pride by Association) post for The Crew. Four out of five in med school! Good job, Gerls! But before you become doctors of medicine, let me just remind you of your level of sanity back in college:

The first all-nighter at Bahay ni Ate.

The second all-nighter, still at Bahay ni Ate. Went out for thesis break aka Candy Break.

The (I can't remember when) all-nighter at Briege's house (aka The Hobbit's House).

You must understand that I am an old person by nature. Hence, the nostalgia.

The Boy

He was not the first boy you loved, but he was the first one to see you on a different light. He was not your One Great Love, but he was the one who made you want to stay. He was not a Prince Charming, but he was everything you needed and more. But he broke your heart, crushed your soul, and left you without even saying goodbye.

The First Bite of Reason

You thought you loved him, but after some time, you realized that you actually did not. The realization made you sad, because you thought it was real, because you thought and you firmly believed that what you felt for him at the time was as real as your existence.

After the fall out, you cried buckets of tears, thinking you won't be able to feel again, that you won't be as in love again. You thought he'd be the last person you'd love, but you were wrong.

Now, six months past your second heartbreak, you are in love again. And how you wish that this time, it would be real.

Gravity's Command

It is like falling in love for the first time.

You memorize every detail of his being--from his physical attributes to his core values. You know his smell--rustic and comfy; his eyes, those eyes that speak to you everytime you look at him; his lips that twitch everytime he thinks of something witty but refuses to say it; his nose that wrinkles whenever he looks at you; and his voice, that soft yet stoic voice. You understand why he keeps most of his emotions to himself, why it takes time for him to open up, and what keeps him from doing what he wants.

You keep tabs of little things that he's done for and with you like how you keep the fondest memories of your childhood. You remember the way he looked at you the first time you met, the first joke you shared, the first laugh you had with him, and the other firsts. You remember everything he says, whether it be about a random dog or a political dogma. You save everything in your memory. Heck, you even write about it. You write about the day he called you fat ass and the night he asked you of your weight. You take note of his random anecdotes on certain things. You write about him--the way he talks to you, the tone of his voice, the touch of his skin, the smell of his hair. You write about the way he makes you feel whenever he is around, whenever he cracks a joke, whenever he is with you. You write your memory with and about him. Everything that relates to him, you take note so that you won't forget.

With each day, you keep on reviewing, asking yourself, "Of all people, why him?" He is adorably random and awkward, a little humanoid on the side. He is hot and cold, not easy to understand and to handle. It is like you are dissecting and scrutinizing a masterpiece. You are gentle as you turn every piece of him inside out, inspecting, knowing, understanding, and accepting. Every part of him screams his name, of his uniqueness, but you know that he is more than the sum of his parts. Definitely more than that.

It is like falling in love for the first time and seeing the person in a different light.

On Why I am Pressured Right Now

For almost eight months, I evaded the ultimate question: "What's your plan for the next academic year?" I tried so hard to keep my face straight and my resolve unwavering. I refused to give any concrete answer to any person who asked me that question. I refused, because I honestly don't know how to answer them.

However, it seems inevitable, especially right now that most of the Gerls are in medical school (2 in UP, 2 in UST, 1 in UERM, and 2 in DLSU-Dasma--all of which are prominent medical schools in the country). I know that I should not feel pressured whatsoever, but I am a fairly competitive person. And it doesn't help that people around me including my mom keep asking, "Are you going back to law school?"

Here's the thing: I am sure of going back to law school. I just don't know when. I still want to go to law school despite my experience last year. I still want to have that blood rushing, heart thumping, and mind boggling recitation ordeal. I want it that bad, but only time will tell when I'd be back. Because as of this writing, I am waiting for some miracle to happen. I am waiting for the great come back, the defining moment. And when it comes (and I believe that it will), that'd be the time I will give an answer to the ultimate question.

For now, I will keep my fingers crossed as I wait for the best birthday gift ever. Till then, I will not entertain any question that has to do with law school.

Goodbye, Manila. Hello, Reality!

I have always thought of making an article about Manila--its diverse culture, the people from different walks of life, the pollution, everything about Manila--since I first step into the grounds of my alma matter, but my laziness got the best of me. I slacked off the writing and decided to enjoy every bit of Manila-ness I could grasp.

I never really expected to love Manila. I mean, who would, right? Manila is polluted. The air you'd breathe consists of carbon monoxide, carbon dioxide, and other respiratory-impaling gas. It is filthy. You'd see used condom along Taft Avenue, used napkin somewhere in Pedro Gil, diaper with poop near Padre Faura, and a lot of cigarette stubs anywhere. The place is a scary place--it is congested with hawkers, snatchers, hold-uppers, and other lawless elements. The place is, to put it in a bourgeoisie's word, ew. It is the exact opposite of where I grew up, but Manila grew on me.

For almost six years, Manila played a big part in my life. It is where I established my identity, built my dreams, and found nine awesome friends. This is the place where I learned that being street smart is better than being intelligent. It is where I found (and eventually lost) the first guy I kissed in the rain. It is where I first broke my heart. It is where I spent most of drunken moments, down in the gutter, looking at the stars. It is where I first broke down and cried my heart out. Manila, despite its filthiness, taught me everything I need to know about reality. Manila has and will always have my fondest and cruelest memories. But I can't live there anymore.

I had to leave Manila now. Not that I find no reason to live in this place, but I just have to grow. I just have to move on with my life. One day, I know I will come back to where I found my dreams. When that day comes, I know I'd be once again ready to embrace the ugliness of Manila.

But for now, it's goodbye Manila! Hello, Reality!