When concern becomes annoying

Its been a long time since I posted an entry. I went to Singapore, right? For that I missed a few classes and had to make-up for some assignments and take missed exams. Senior year in Pisay isn't really the most laid-back whirlwind around, to be blunt, I have been lost in schoolwork that blogging will become burden if I force it into my workload.

I am the type of person who doesn't enjoy seeing a problem then treating it immediately. I am the kind of person who sees an atrocity, waits for another, until I see a whole dozen of them then I start solving the problems. I like collecting tasks instead of doing them one by one because long streaks of work require less adaptive rituals than segmented labor. Anyways.....

I am a minor and I can't deny the fact that sleep is becoming a luxury for me. I sleep, at most, 6 hours a day and having the idea that a person needs at least 8 hours of sleep everyday is bugging me. I feel like I'm committing a mortal sin everyday by not sleeping as long as the experts want me to. Science high schools with poor time management is barely about sleeping. 

Someone who sleeps under the same roof with me noticed my cold relationship with nightly hibernations and he/she is very vocal about her concern. Come one. If only it was ethical that you did my work while I slept so you can shut up, I have done that already. Concern, when effect-less, is very annoying. When you see someone in pain, don't moan with him/her if you can't help.

(PS: The experts also say grumpiness can be caused by lack of sleep)

Singapore, lah!

Written on the airport to Singapore:

I’m going to Singapore. Surprised? The chances of me actually taking this trip was brutally slimmed downed by the DOST-SEI exam that I should take this coming Sunday. We decided the DOST Scholarship was minimal compared to an untimely getaway to a nearby Asian city-country.

I will be returning early next week, the specific date depends on my mother/travel companion who is plotting to extend our stay in Singapore until the next millennium. For the meantime, let me sip some cheap brewed coffee on this local coffee shop WHILE I fascinate myself with visions of Singapore, the nearby Asian city-country. 

Now I'm in Singapore and I feel like I'm in some show. Singapore is too perfect to be true. I feel like I have been living in the garbage bins then suddenly, I take a dip in holy waters. It is not impossible for one to be racist and imagine Singaporeans sweeping every other hour because microbiology couldn't have sprouted from here. Seriously? A city with concrete sky ways, city-wide rail roads and an extremely diverse population can co-exist with tree-lined highways, serenity and hygiene?

My mother/travel companion and I road a skyline tree-top swing. The whole
time we were frozen with regret. "Who's idea was this?!?!?!"

The Capital City

I have hazy memories of the capital city. My trips to Manila were usually limited to a few hours or at most, a night and a short day. I was ecstatic that last Friday, me, my five other classmates and a teacher, went to Manila for a quiz bee (and a lot more). Wihi! Two nights in the National Capital Region. Of course, I was excited. NCR is the nearest domestic address we have to "the city that never sleeps" and I'm going with friends who fall under the same age group and with the same preferences as me.

(Read more for more fun...)

The Diary of a Journal

As an aspiring writer, it is only proper that I keep a journal.

Its been a few years since I started keeping journals and success in such I define by filling up whole notebooks. I'm a big failure since I only get, at most, at the first third of a notebook. I find it hard to write an entry in the journal, later only to be compelled to blog it. At the end of the day, I realize I have made two copies of an entry. Knowing you turned your efforts into carbon copying is demoralizing so a few journal entries later, the journal is closed, sealed and thrown away in the vastness of our drawers. I start to settle with only the blog.

Still being a firm believer of journaling, I formulated a solution. I bought another set consisted of a notebook and a pen from the local thrift store at our province (total cost was like 25 pesos) and decided to open a new journal and start writing. From now on this journal will be a place to deposit all my hate and obscenity. It will offend society but will be truth to me. The entries in it will be too evil to blog and to scandalous to talk about so the journal should keep to itself. No more carbon copy work!

I bought the notebook for a severe bargain so don't dare comment on the rather abnormal cover design.

I now have several entries on this journal and it is starting to talk about eating disorders, bastardization of conventions and concentrated vanity. This journal I will gladly keep to myself.

Can you believe this?

 It has only been at most five days since I last went to school and I’m missing it already. Having to stay in the province until the end of the week-long sembreak is starting to take its toll on my city-grown consciousness.

The catch is I am actually getting tired of having to do nothing. If 24 hours in a day can seem tight in the city especially during school days, a 12-hour day of doing nothing in the province is already very generous. Although I get tired easily and I can’t seem to finish tasks in the city, here in the province, every task I am given seems to lack magnitude. When I was asked to work on some paper invitations, I finished too fast that after some tinkering with the printer and the scissors, I was back to relaxing again! I know what a torture it is to be forced to work but I didn’t expect being forced to relax is much more painful!

I just miss school and all the responsibilities. It is during these times do I realize that men were never made to rest a lot. Muscle atrophy is ugly.

(Although my report card isn’t as diamond-studded as my peers's, I actually enjoy school. I learn a lot more than what is asked during exams and teachers are my idols - being taught by your idols is always a pleasure. Here I am who asked for vacation, got it and trying to return it. Next time I want something, I really need to think about it.)

Back into the forest

I’m back in our dwelling which is deep in the provinces of Iloilo. It's so unknown that every time somebody asks me where our permanent address is, the conversation turns into drawing virtual maps in thin air. I have to stay here until the end of the mid-semester break. The province is like a dead city. Not a lot of action but a lot of organic matter. It is only in the province that day long rests are considered legal.

For paying due respect, we visited the graves of our passed away relatives in the aged but magnificent Janiuay Cemetery yesterday before we made our way to our provincial dwelling in Sara, Iloilo.

I have to say thank you to Globe because now I can enjoy the benefits of a laid-back, rural environment without having to disconnect from the internet. My sister is letting me (ab)use her Globe Tattoo stick and Globe has a promo where for P 50, you get 24 hours of unlimited internet access. Yahoo! Browsing the internet is cool, browsing the internet in the middle of mountain ranges in an unknown area - even cooler.