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.

Burning the Bridges

Sitting, waiting, wishing...

I could use some good introductions right now like "I wish I could write like Edgar Allan Poe..." or "How does it feel to be always waiting for something that will never come?" or "Some stars are meant to fall and never to regain its twinkle," but I know I could not sustain that. I would be bastardizing a good start with a nonsensical follow ups. So better not to use any of them.

I am thinking of something witty or interesting to write about. I have thought of writing my obituary, but that's just so typical. I have thought of ranting about how my life sucks right now, but that's so whiny. I have thought of weaving words for my suicide note, but that's pathetic. I have thought of listing down what I did today (which is not interesting at all), but that's very lame. So, I decided on writing about nothing and something at the same time. What could that be?

Superman is Gay. This has been a theory since time immemorial. I have heard a lot of accounts regarding Superman's gender. There are a lot of debates going on the virtual world, but nothing beats the joke that I have heard from Infidel today (I guess, that's because it was the first time that I have heard of this joke!) It goes something like this (but not quite). There were some text missing, but get the point? That must have been the start of his "gayness." LOLJK. I also found a discussion on his gender over the internet. A serious discussion, dude. You can check it out here. Oh, pop culture! What the heck. I need Foucault or whoever gender theorists are available.

Blue streak. Ever heard of the expression talk a blue streak? Well, I haven't until Infidel told me about it. It means to say a lot very fast, to talk very much and very rapidly, in short--to blabber. But! It also means something other than its figurative meaning. Apparently, it is the term used to label the act of igniting one's fart. I kid you not. You can check this and that for further proof that one's fart is combustible. I also Googled on the matter (fart is the subject, my friend) and found an interesting link that can provide anyone a better understanding on fart. And yes, while I am writing this I am slashing my throat using a bread knife. Writing about fart is close to abomination and social suicide.

Dongca's Birthday!

Ber Months. I am never a fan of months with -ber on its end, because that only means one thing: Christmas. Though I am lusting for a long Holiday, I am not looking forward to Christmas for reasons I stated before. I am slowly turning into a Grinch. I have to endure the (repetitive) Christmas songs again. Oh. NO.

Want vs Need. My ultimate dilemma. Right now, I am contemplating on choosing which to acquire: a cellphone or a camera. I really want to have a Blackberry for a phone, but that's just not me. I mean, 2mp and not much of a mp3 player. So I think I will settle for Sony Ericsson Aino. As for the camera, well... That's different. I am lusting for Yashica FX-2 ever since I held it with my hands, but it is not practical to use film right now (unless I am a professional photographer.) So I (will) concede to Sir Abe's piece of advice: Go Digital. But then, I am having a hard time choosing which of the two (cellphone and camera) I will get. I can only have one! It is hard to choose.

This and That. November and December will be the death of me. I need to decide before November 11, 2010!!! Why is it hard to decide? Tell meeeee! WHY?

Oh shit. It's past 12am already! I failed to post this on the first day of September. Crap.

"High with Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds"

Let's chase the words before they slip away.

Nobody reads my blog entries except from some friends (three friends to be exact). It is not always that they read it, because my compositions can get wordy and dull and because they have no time. That's just fine with me. I prefer it that way.

I write for the sake of writing, not for popularity. I write for myself. I write for the sake of my sanity. I write to exorcise the demon in me. I write to let my mind relax, because I tend to over analyze things. I write, because I am not much of a good speaker. I stutter a lot, and it is only through writing that I get my message across people. I write, because I have a problem with pronunciation, and it is only through words that I get to be sensible. I write for the betterment of myself. I write without intending to be popular. I write just because.

Writing is solitary for me. My thoughts and words are my entirety. So I like it when only few people read what I write. Perhaps you are wondering why I keep an online journal like this if I prefer few people would know what I write. It is as simple as the fact that there's nothing wrong in coping with technology and stuff. I'd like to see one day what I wrote. The old school writing (pen-and-paper) has more soul. I concede to that. But even papers and ink can get washed away by time.

However, you must not think that I have not thought of publishing my first book. Much as I like to have a fewer readers, I'd love to have my writings be published. I'd like to remain anonymous yet known to some. At least. Actually, I have taken much time to think about my first published book.

My first published book will start with "I saw Death." and will end with ""It was my death." or something like that. It will have 300 pages, but no other words will be written aside from the beginning and the end. The "middle" pages will remain blank. That's how I've thought of it. Then, it will become a movie of some sort. Its movie adaptation will be a 2-hour show with nothing but the narration of the starting sentence and the end thought. In short, my first published book will be a two-liner book. Just like that.

Or I do not know. It is still early to tell anyway.

Dilemma: Want vs Need

I am a not fan of technology, but there is just one thing that tops my WANT list when it comes to laptop. It is none other than MACPRO.

Sorry guise, but I get shallow sometimes. LOLJK. But seriously, with its specs? Intel Core i5 and Core i7 processors, NVIDIA graphics, 10 hours battery life. Plus, it doesn't get PC viruses, which is the main point of having a Mac (for me). Dude, I could die for it.

Though I am still content with my laptop (named Zenki), sometimes I dream of owning a MacPro for myself, since well, Zenki is not a Superlaptop when it comes to viruses. I am using a Compaq Presario CQ40, by the way. Also, the battery life is only 2 hours at most (I am talking about a brand new Presario CQ40 here). After one year, Zenki can only run on a battery for less than 45 minutes. And to think that I am very careful with its battery, always making sure that it is not overcharged or something. So there, I want a MacPro. But then, it is expensive (PHP 64,990.00 at least). It will cost me 4 or 5 paychecks (I am not sure, I am not good at Mathematics!). As in FOUR/FIVE WHOLE PAYCHECKS, tax-deduction excluded. Hahaha! But then. It's a Mac. But I don't need it. I just want it. Or maybe I need it. I don't know. I am torn.

MacPro is just pure awesomeness.

10 Reasons Why I Won't Be A Musician

I once dreamed of being a Musician.

I love listening to music. I love putting into melody what I feel and what I think. I could play the piano when I was five years old. I took interest in learning how to play the guitar when I was eight. But by the time that I reached puberty, all the music-related things that I know have been erased from my memory. It was Tabularasa all over again. Suddenly, I do not know how to read notes, how to play the piano, and how to differentiate the tones. I even forgot how to get the right rhythm and timing. It was as if I was doomed to a world of Mediocrity. I was stigmatized. I was ripped off of the potential of being a Musician.

For some time, I cried over a spilled milk. But then I realized that I am not cut for it. I am not destined to be a Musician. And here are the 10 reasons why...

1. I am tone deaf.
2. I am off tune. ALWAYS.
3. I cannot make a difference between the sound of piano and lead guitar and base when put together.
4. I have no context of rhythm and timing.
5. I cannot grasp the difference between Tempo and Beat. Seriously.
6. I find it hard to remember the title of the song and the artist (and/or the song itself!) no matter how many times I have heard it. Well, unless I get fixated on it.
7. I cannot read notes. My music teacher could attest to that! Or even my friends!
8. I do not like the F# and Bm, B chords!
9. I can get really stubborn over a tone that is stuck on my mind.
10. For 20 years, I believed that Trumpet is Harmonica, and Harmonica is Trumpet. For real.

So you see. I may have known how to play piano before, but then... If it is not for me, then it is not for me. I can still listen to music, anyway.