the life and times of a blue boy…

Today marks my lola’s first death anniversary. She passed away last March 28, 2006 amidst a flurry of my own personal activities (I was graduating in a few days). But today is not about me.

 You are remembered. What you did (or didn’t do), what we fondly remember — every little detail that can be attributed to you — that is what we will do.

 There are a thousand different little things I will remember; most probably random, inane and useless. But nonetheless, they are my own personal collection, a collective of ten-second moments that may mean little to anyone else.

I need to keep going. My determination and persevering side has been on a wane lately, crushed by the many different academic requirements.  I’m just tired most of the time; hopping in between topics, changing gears right after a finished assignment/test/paper.

I think I’m holding on, although how well is something different altogether. I’m just closing my eyes, hoping, just hoping that there must have been something I did right that would make me get a rather decent grade.

The energy level is falling; with food, sleep, and just hanging out with friends being my only source of recreation right now. They’re the few pitstops that come right before major hurdles.

For that I am thankful. Poker seemed to have cheered Stevie up, even if he went back to his morose status (particular look: [3/3] weird look…haha] as he post-pondered on his Math LT, and went back to his P.E. paper (imagine that, a paper on P.E…that’s just strange). And it has  managed to keep me relatively sane, going into chip leader status right before it ended. Sadly, I didn’t manage to become grand eternal champion this time. I did win previously, four times. Which is great.

Food has been rather dull lately; I haven’t thought of anything creative recently — for now I’m sticking to safe food choices while I get through these tumultuous weeks. Survive, yes, survive.

The five papers, two exams, and three finals coming up in the next few weeks are nailing me straight to the ground. I’m just feeling that pressure, mathematically expressed as force over area, that’s making me cringe. The expectations, the requirements just make me want to lie down, sleep, then disappear.

To think in two weeks this will all be over. But before that, it seems the cogs of fate have begun already — I’m past the point of no return, and I need to redeem myself. No that the grades have been helping. My Chem majors have been slipping, partly to the fact that I’m not so good when it comes to memorizing theoretical concepts; not that I’m blaming anyone.

I am feeling summer-ish. It’s that expectation of perfect nothingness that follows weeks of hellish trauma. It’s that feeling of calm, serene, placid tranquility which is supposed to make everything else not matter. Another perfect example of the duality of experience.

…but seriously. I need to be working; to be productive, to churn out paper after paper after paper until I get those deadlines met. It’s just not chummy.

Sidepost:

“Silence”

Silence escapes
It fills every cut, every crack
Seeming they were never there
To begin with

It does well to distract
For faults to disappear
And lend credibility to a claim

A little more time
A few more hours
To what effect would it bring?
That, and weeks more
Until even that blurs

There was so much
To be said
Every little thing that needed
To be known

Yet even they fade away
Retreating into a place
Dark and deep
Silence only escapes

The passion, the will, the need
That consumed
Has silence taken them too?

I don’t know. Maybe for closure.

After putting off an intended post for nearly 3 days, I’m finally jotting something down. Hopefully, this will be posted.

I have another Filipino paper due next Friday. And I know I have to start making it, because I don’t want to wait for the other papers to start piling up until they’re up to my neck. But I just can’t.

I know I want to, but there’s something, I don’t know what. Something concrete, abstract, unearthly; who knows. Whatever it is, I just can’t make my Filipino paper. First off, I can’t find a topic. And we all know that is a bad excuse for not making your paper. Second, I’ve got all the time in the world to make it. Oops. XD

See? Everything else is telling me to make this paper. Nothign is supposed to stop me make this paper — although I know full well it will just crash and burn in some academic hell. But whatever. A requirement is a requirement, and it needs to be carried out, even perfunctorily.

And I have a sad, sad, feeling that I will end up cramming my next few papers. As I sit here, typing away on a computer console, I can’t help but muse about it. Right now, those deadlines seems so detached, so far away, as if they belong to some other person and I’m just watching him through the television. Mutely acknowledging its existence, while shrugging off any attempts to get some work done.

The external struggles which are more visible, are likely to get picked up by outsiders, as they ask, wonder, or even just blurt out. They may do it out of genuine concern, lack of a better topic,  or who knows what motivation. Internal struggles are more difficult. They require an activeness, the reversal of the passiveness that external struggles bring about. Without any activity, nothing gets resolved: maybe time will, although that too, is highly unlikely.

Conflict then must be a natural human experience — but even experience fails to grasp the entirety of the word. It encompasses more than that, it stretches into the different avenues of the human psyche. .. But what the hell am I talking about?

The familiar Final Fantasy 8 line, which comes out when using Devour. Just a little remembering, but that’s not what this is about.

That’s actual self-censorship. I’m exercising my right to do it (or is that a responsibility?). Either way, I’m putting it into effect. Well simply, I failed my math long test.

Yes, I know, this thing has been heard of many, many times — the endless repetition, the bore, what’s new? But this time, there seems to be a more serious tone to this. I took the test, tried to answer — and discovered that I hell had no idea what to do.

At some point in the exam, I was just staring at the teacher. I wanted to answer, I really did, but there was just this exasperation, desperation, even dread that just crept over me and killed all attempts to answer. It wouldn’t have helped me anyway; I was screwed. There goes my dream of getting a decent grade in Math. I can’t blame my teacher, she’s doing a great job of teaching math (no sarcasm intended).

Time quickly ran out. I crawled my way to the teacher’s table, my head hung in shame. I left the room in muted silence, unable to comprehend what the hell went wrong. When I was studying, I thought I was doing fine. But after the test, I just wanted to drown that feeling of failure at any cost, trying to block it out of my system in whatever way I could.

Failure is such a wonderful feeling. It goes beyond the perception of the lack of self-worth; eating out a part of your very existence, because it just feels that something inside of you just died. Sadly, there is little redemption. With one last long test and a final exam, I’m not sure if there’s anything decent left to salvage. What can you possibly pull up? ..I’m trying, I’ll try, but that’s it. The finality of it just seems incomprehensible. In some ways, it may be ominous — a sign of things to come, of more failures.

How academics can bring out the worst in me. Dedicating posts to subjects like this — I don’t know why I even do it. It’s just too much stress: repeated trauma, and tragedy after tragedy. What’s the point?

Despite that, I managed to cheer myself up at judo class — which was fun. Random violence has that calming feeling. Oh wait. We weren’t sparring, but sure, it was fun. Nothing seriously competitive; although I’m sure that will disappear when the time comes for mini-tournament.

…Summer is just around the corner again. A few more weeks of class, and then I’m officially going to be a second year student. But that’s unimportant for now. Survive the moment — let’s get through this.