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I'm going to fail. Okay, not really. I'm going to take the finals. There are worse things to be than to be taking the Math 17 finals, but that's okay, since I'm done with that term paper draft and I'm done with those exams and after this week I will never have to do algebra again. Ever. I am free, or at any rate shortly will be.
Besides, there's failing, and there's failing happy, prepared to fail, and with ten solid hours of sleep behind you.
Besides, there's failing, and there's failing happy, prepared to fail, and with ten solid hours of sleep behind you.
I'm going to fail. Okay, not really. I'm going to take the finals. There are worse things to be than to be taking the Math 17 finals, but that's okay, since I'm done with that term paper draft and I'm done with those exams and after this week I will never have to do algebra again. Ever. I am free, or at any rate shortly will be.
Besides, there's failing, and there's failing happy, prepared to fail, and with ten solid hours of sleep behind you.
Besides, there's failing, and there's failing happy, prepared to fail, and with ten solid hours of sleep behind you.
electricity!!! :D
Sep. 27th, 2009 10:10 pmSo the water has gone down and we are being refugees for the moment and one day doesn't seem like a long time unless floods are two stair steps away from the second floor of your house for most of it.
Of course, when there are floods, there is the:
USC ALERT- From chancy- classes and office work suspended Monday, including LU6 med.
History 5 seems like an odd thing to worry about, especially when twenty-four hours ago your front gate was underwater, but it's still one less thing to worry about.
---
And of course, when there are floods, there will always be relief projects by UPM students:
What A Relief
They need your help.
Clothes, water, medicines, canned goods, soap, money... you name it, we can use it.
Please leave your donations at the MSU 2nd Floor starting TODAY.
For cash donations text Tonicci at 09323055108.
Let's pray for the country, for the people affected, and for each other.
Be safe.
Thing about the Philippines is that its people know how to survive. It's called adaptation. This is crazy, but it's survivable. We are that good.
Of course, when there are floods, there is the:
USC ALERT- From chancy- classes and office work suspended Monday, including LU6 med.
History 5 seems like an odd thing to worry about, especially when twenty-four hours ago your front gate was underwater, but it's still one less thing to worry about.
---
And of course, when there are floods, there will always be relief projects by UPM students:
What A Relief
They need your help.
Clothes, water, medicines, canned goods, soap, money... you name it, we can use it.
Please leave your donations at the MSU 2nd Floor starting TODAY.
For cash donations text Tonicci at 09323055108.
Let's pray for the country, for the people affected, and for each other.
Be safe.
UP Medicine Student Council
---Thing about the Philippines is that its people know how to survive. It's called adaptation. This is crazy, but it's survivable. We are that good.
electricity!!! :D
Sep. 27th, 2009 10:10 pmSo the water has gone down and we are being refugees for the moment and one day doesn't seem like a long time unless floods are two stair steps away from the second floor of your house for most of it.
Of course, when there are floods, there is the:
USC ALERT- From chancy- classes and office work suspended Monday, including LU6 med.
History 5 seems like an odd thing to worry about, especially when twenty-four hours ago your front gate was underwater, but it's still one less thing to worry about.
---
And of course, when there are floods, there will always be relief projects by UPM students:
What A Relief
They need your help.
Clothes, water, medicines, canned goods, soap, money... you name it, we can use it.
Please leave your donations at the MSU 2nd Floor starting TODAY.
For cash donations text Tonicci at 09323055108.
Let's pray for the country, for the people affected, and for each other.
Be safe.
Thing about the Philippines is that its people know how to survive. It's called adaptation. This is crazy, but it's survivable. We are that good.
Of course, when there are floods, there is the:
USC ALERT- From chancy- classes and office work suspended Monday, including LU6 med.
History 5 seems like an odd thing to worry about, especially when twenty-four hours ago your front gate was underwater, but it's still one less thing to worry about.
---
And of course, when there are floods, there will always be relief projects by UPM students:
What A Relief
They need your help.
Clothes, water, medicines, canned goods, soap, money... you name it, we can use it.
Please leave your donations at the MSU 2nd Floor starting TODAY.
For cash donations text Tonicci at 09323055108.
Let's pray for the country, for the people affected, and for each other.
Be safe.
UP Medicine Student Council
---Thing about the Philippines is that its people know how to survive. It's called adaptation. This is crazy, but it's survivable. We are that good.
finally, yet again, I guess.
May. 16th, 2009 04:00 pmSo I finally have shoes I can walk around the UP campus in without having to listen to my feet screaming in agony, and my Eee has a new home. These may not sound like much in the way of accomplishments, but they'll do, at least for the girl who for the past few days has done nothing but read old Sherlock Holmes stories and Good Omens fanfiction.
What I would really like to accomplish, however, the deletion of all those extra entries from my Multiply. Oh well. As they say, beggars can't be choosers, after all, and as this is the first time I've ever used that phrase in my entire life out of a sheer lack of anything else to say, it's pretty obvious which one I am.
---
SM Marikina does not look like an SM. If it weren't as blocky as all SMs are wont to be I would never have guessed it was one from the inside. Apparently Mr. Sy has learned taste, or at any rate has gotten interior designers who possess it. Better late than never, I suppose.
I wonder who makes Facebook quizzes. The main symptom of walang magawa is a bunch of quiz results popping up on their Facebook page, and it's something to do, I shouldn't mind, but still. I want to strangle them for crimes against the English language, and then after that they'll probably have to run away from the souls of their dearly departed English teachers, who must have been turning in their graves.
What I would really like to accomplish, however, the deletion of all those extra entries from my Multiply. Oh well. As they say, beggars can't be choosers, after all, and as this is the first time I've ever used that phrase in my entire life out of a sheer lack of anything else to say, it's pretty obvious which one I am.
---
SM Marikina does not look like an SM. If it weren't as blocky as all SMs are wont to be I would never have guessed it was one from the inside. Apparently Mr. Sy has learned taste, or at any rate has gotten interior designers who possess it. Better late than never, I suppose.
I wonder who makes Facebook quizzes. The main symptom of walang magawa is a bunch of quiz results popping up on their Facebook page, and it's something to do, I shouldn't mind, but still. I want to strangle them for crimes against the English language, and then after that they'll probably have to run away from the souls of their dearly departed English teachers, who must have been turning in their graves.
finally, yet again, I guess.
May. 16th, 2009 04:00 pmSo I finally have shoes I can walk around the UP campus in without having to listen to my feet screaming in agony, and my Eee has a new home. These may not sound like much in the way of accomplishments, but they'll do, at least for the girl who for the past few days has done nothing but read old Sherlock Holmes stories and Good Omens fanfiction.
What I would really like to accomplish, however, the deletion of all those extra entries from my Multiply. Oh well. As they say, beggars can't be choosers, after all, and as this is the first time I've ever used that phrase in my entire life out of a sheer lack of anything else to say, it's pretty obvious which one I am.
---
SM Marikina does not look like an SM. If it weren't as blocky as all SMs are wont to be I would never have guessed it was one from the inside. Apparently Mr. Sy has learned taste, or at any rate has gotten interior designers who possess it. Better late than never, I suppose.
I wonder who makes Facebook quizzes. The main symptom of walang magawa is a bunch of quiz results popping up on their Facebook page, and it's something to do, I shouldn't mind, but still. I want to strangle them for crimes against the English language, and then after that they'll probably have to run away from the souls of their dearly departed English teachers, who must have been turning in their graves.
What I would really like to accomplish, however, the deletion of all those extra entries from my Multiply. Oh well. As they say, beggars can't be choosers, after all, and as this is the first time I've ever used that phrase in my entire life out of a sheer lack of anything else to say, it's pretty obvious which one I am.
---
SM Marikina does not look like an SM. If it weren't as blocky as all SMs are wont to be I would never have guessed it was one from the inside. Apparently Mr. Sy has learned taste, or at any rate has gotten interior designers who possess it. Better late than never, I suppose.
I wonder who makes Facebook quizzes. The main symptom of walang magawa is a bunch of quiz results popping up on their Facebook page, and it's something to do, I shouldn't mind, but still. I want to strangle them for crimes against the English language, and then after that they'll probably have to run away from the souls of their dearly departed English teachers, who must have been turning in their graves.
what else can I say?
Apr. 30th, 2009 07:36 pmAfter eight months of writing and reading and laughing over mass murderers in the STR lab, all I can say is, finally. And this is the summer after my graduation and I can still say that finishing this idiot thing is the best fun Ive had all year.
what else can I say?
Apr. 30th, 2009 07:36 pmAfter eight months of writing and reading and laughing over mass murderers in the STR lab, all I can say is, finally. And this is the summer after my graduation and I can still say that finishing this idiot thing is the best fun Ive had all year.
We went to Trinoma. (I still don't know which letters to capitalize.) Tricia, Mina, Jenny, and I. Tricia and Mina left earlier, though. So after McDo and Timezone Jenny and I went to Powerbooks.
She stepped in first. Nothing happened. I didn't expect anything to, after all. So I followed, and all of a sudden the two metal things by the doors started flashing red lights and an alarm started beeping, and I tried to just keep on walking as though nothing has happened, all the while wondering What did I do this time?
Buti na lang mabait yung guard. I had brought a book along with me, just in case our Trinoma trip didn't push through,
It made for a funny story afterwards, but no one in my family really found it funny.
---
There is one thing about the last day of the school year that everyone agrees upon.
People squander the last day of the school year in all sorts of odd ways. Some spend it being emo over what will never return, some use up all their excess spurts of laughter and energy, some force it to be memorable the last of anything should be, some try to keep things as ordinary as possible so that the end of the year they had gotten used to wouldn't hit so hard. Some spend it with old friends, some bond with classmates they didn't get the chance to know. Some stare in undisguised wonder at the fluffs of cotton floating over the field while others give comments about movie scenes they could create from them or about biological facts of cotton no one really wanted to know just then. People squander the last day of the school year in all sorts of odd ways, but there is one thing they agree on, and it is that it doesn't feel like the end.
---
I was made to be alone- he said it himself. Sweet, helpful, annoying in a way that didn't rankle- all the traits I had built up for myself were just that: for myself. My friends are there not to help me with my problems but to help me avoid them. I am made so that people could get close to me, but so that I could not get close to people. I'm incapable of it. I forget to avoid the pain and insist upon ignoring the fact that the pain comes because I forget. And if I wish that something terrible would happen to me it would not just be so that no one could tell me I didn't know what it was like to suffer, but so that I would finally be pushed down a definite path, so that I would finally be Jillian, whoever that is, even if she had been shattered completely by what she had to go through to get rid of me. Because I don't want to have lived the past three years of my life in a masquerade, and I don't know if that is something I should realise or if I'm being paranoid of the things I should be sure of. Because I was made to be alone, and I don't know if I should change that, or if it's too late.
She stepped in first. Nothing happened. I didn't expect anything to, after all. So I followed, and all of a sudden the two metal things by the doors started flashing red lights and an alarm started beeping, and I tried to just keep on walking as though nothing has happened, all the while wondering What did I do this time?
Buti na lang mabait yung guard. I had brought a book along with me, just in case our Trinoma trip didn't push through,
It made for a funny story afterwards, but no one in my family really found it funny.
---
There is one thing about the last day of the school year that everyone agrees upon.
People squander the last day of the school year in all sorts of odd ways. Some spend it being emo over what will never return, some use up all their excess spurts of laughter and energy, some force it to be memorable the last of anything should be, some try to keep things as ordinary as possible so that the end of the year they had gotten used to wouldn't hit so hard. Some spend it with old friends, some bond with classmates they didn't get the chance to know. Some stare in undisguised wonder at the fluffs of cotton floating over the field while others give comments about movie scenes they could create from them or about biological facts of cotton no one really wanted to know just then. People squander the last day of the school year in all sorts of odd ways, but there is one thing they agree on, and it is that it doesn't feel like the end.
---
I was made to be alone- he said it himself. Sweet, helpful, annoying in a way that didn't rankle- all the traits I had built up for myself were just that: for myself. My friends are there not to help me with my problems but to help me avoid them. I am made so that people could get close to me, but so that I could not get close to people. I'm incapable of it. I forget to avoid the pain and insist upon ignoring the fact that the pain comes because I forget. And if I wish that something terrible would happen to me it would not just be so that no one could tell me I didn't know what it was like to suffer, but so that I would finally be pushed down a definite path, so that I would finally be Jillian, whoever that is, even if she had been shattered completely by what she had to go through to get rid of me. Because I don't want to have lived the past three years of my life in a masquerade, and I don't know if that is something I should realise or if I'm being paranoid of the things I should be sure of. Because I was made to be alone, and I don't know if I should change that, or if it's too late.
We went to Trinoma. (I still don't know which letters to capitalize.) Tricia, Mina, Jenny, and I. Tricia and Mina left earlier, though. So after McDo and Timezone Jenny and I went to Powerbooks.
She stepped in first. Nothing happened. I didn't expect anything to, after all. So I followed, and all of a sudden the two metal things by the doors started flashing red lights and an alarm started beeping, and I tried to just keep on walking as though nothing has happened, all the while wondering What did I do this time?
Buti na lang mabait yung guard. I had brought a book along with me, just in case our Trinoma trip didn't push through,
It made for a funny story afterwards, but no one in my family really found it funny.
---
There is one thing about the last day of the school year that everyone agrees upon.
People squander the last day of the school year in all sorts of odd ways. Some spend it being emo over what will never return, some use up all their excess spurts of laughter and energy, some force it to be memorable the last of anything should be, some try to keep things as ordinary as possible so that the end of the year they had gotten used to wouldn't hit so hard. Some spend it with old friends, some bond with classmates they didn't get the chance to know. Some stare in undisguised wonder at the fluffs of cotton floating over the field while others give comments about movie scenes they could create from them or about biological facts of cotton no one really wanted to know just then. People squander the last day of the school year in all sorts of odd ways, but there is one thing they agree on, and it is that it doesn't feel like the end.
---
I was made to be alone- he said it himself. Sweet, helpful, annoying in a way that didn't rankle- all the traits I had built up for myself were just that: for myself. My friends are there not to help me with my problems but to help me avoid them. I am made so that people could get close to me, but so that I could not get close to people. I'm incapable of it. I forget to avoid the pain and insist upon ignoring the fact that the pain comes because I forget. And if I wish that something terrible would happen to me it would not just be so that no one could tell me I didn't know what it was like to suffer, but so that I would finally be pushed down a definite path, so that I would finally be Jillian, whoever that is, even if she had been shattered completely by what she had to go through to get rid of me. Because I don't want to have lived the past three years of my life in a masquerade, and I don't know if that is something I should realise or if I'm being paranoid of the things I should be sure of. Because I was made to be alone, and I don't know if I should change that, or if it's too late.
She stepped in first. Nothing happened. I didn't expect anything to, after all. So I followed, and all of a sudden the two metal things by the doors started flashing red lights and an alarm started beeping, and I tried to just keep on walking as though nothing has happened, all the while wondering What did I do this time?
Buti na lang mabait yung guard. I had brought a book along with me, just in case our Trinoma trip didn't push through,
It made for a funny story afterwards, but no one in my family really found it funny.
---
There is one thing about the last day of the school year that everyone agrees upon.
People squander the last day of the school year in all sorts of odd ways. Some spend it being emo over what will never return, some use up all their excess spurts of laughter and energy, some force it to be memorable the last of anything should be, some try to keep things as ordinary as possible so that the end of the year they had gotten used to wouldn't hit so hard. Some spend it with old friends, some bond with classmates they didn't get the chance to know. Some stare in undisguised wonder at the fluffs of cotton floating over the field while others give comments about movie scenes they could create from them or about biological facts of cotton no one really wanted to know just then. People squander the last day of the school year in all sorts of odd ways, but there is one thing they agree on, and it is that it doesn't feel like the end.
---
I was made to be alone- he said it himself. Sweet, helpful, annoying in a way that didn't rankle- all the traits I had built up for myself were just that: for myself. My friends are there not to help me with my problems but to help me avoid them. I am made so that people could get close to me, but so that I could not get close to people. I'm incapable of it. I forget to avoid the pain and insist upon ignoring the fact that the pain comes because I forget. And if I wish that something terrible would happen to me it would not just be so that no one could tell me I didn't know what it was like to suffer, but so that I would finally be pushed down a definite path, so that I would finally be Jillian, whoever that is, even if she had been shattered completely by what she had to go through to get rid of me. Because I don't want to have lived the past three years of my life in a masquerade, and I don't know if that is something I should realise or if I'm being paranoid of the things I should be sure of. Because I was made to be alone, and I don't know if I should change that, or if it's too late.
I am typing this from my Asus Eee, whose name I still insist on pronouncing weirdly even though I thought that wasn't the way it was pronounced and then discovered that I was wrong and I was right, because for the past hour I have been trying to clean out my computer's keyboard. You cannot imagine all the dusty fluff that comes out of the gaps between the keys. I suggest you try it out. It's extremely cathartic.
---
And so, the school year ends. The cuts and bruises and lessons learned are still there, and no one knows if they will disappear, since no one will notice them disappearing anyway. And in my case, the cuts and bruises part is literal, due to biking. Two days ago, I raced against August four times, and won all four of those times. He said that was because he was being a gentleman. About an hour later, he lost control of the pedicab, and I crashed into a gazebo.
It was a fun experience.
Well, he only crashed once. I kept losing control when I drove the pedicab. I even crashed into the sound system. Guia lost control not at all.
Hey, that rhymes.
And then the day after that I biked twice, once with Tram and Menez, the second time with Airah and Menez and Paeng, And Paeng suddenly braked in front of me... and I fell.
As a result I have bruises on my arm and shoulder, and a cut on my face. It feels weird.
The fun thing about getting injured is that you automatically have a funny story for people, and you're absolutely sure that it won't offend any of them.
---
The school year ends, in a way that does not signify that it has been ending ever since it began. The pictures are taken (sadly, before I got the cut on my face), the fair booths have closed, and the children who are no longer children are found to still enjoy volleying a ball over a net. One has to wonder why they enjoy it, and why none of the cars around have volleyball-shaped dents in them. The sun throws caricatures called shadows across the ground, the math grades have been handed out and the Sir Nat students are in various corners of Pisay, complaining and celebrating and mourning, the treasurers chase around those heavily in debt to the class funds, the autograph books fly from hand to hand. The fair days are quiet and lazy and are spent doing nothing at all, which is honestly the most enjoyable task in the world, and which, deep inside, is the sole desire of every student after three days of exams. The periodical test results are posted inside the SHB's halls, and the students either take efforts to check them out of take efforts to avoid them- who wants to spoil the last days of the school year? (34 ako sa Physics perio! bagsak ako sa Chem. perio!) Classmates who will forget about each other over the next months, or when the new school year rolls in, or not at all, chat about concert plans and memories and
throw insults and inside jokes at each other. Questions that had never been asked are asked, friends that could have been but never were are salvaged, and classmates who fall off bicycles are rescued and asked if they were all right. Despite the silence of the days that stay in spite of the loud music, the students are at complete ease, and they make special efforts to let everyone know that they are not. These last days, everyone knows, are only escapes, temporary refuges from pressures that will never be abated and from expectations that will never be met.
And so, the school year ends.
---
And so, the school year ends. The cuts and bruises and lessons learned are still there, and no one knows if they will disappear, since no one will notice them disappearing anyway. And in my case, the cuts and bruises part is literal, due to biking. Two days ago, I raced against August four times, and won all four of those times. He said that was because he was being a gentleman. About an hour later, he lost control of the pedicab, and I crashed into a gazebo.
It was a fun experience.
Well, he only crashed once. I kept losing control when I drove the pedicab. I even crashed into the sound system. Guia lost control not at all.
Hey, that rhymes.
And then the day after that I biked twice, once with Tram and Menez, the second time with Airah and Menez and Paeng, And Paeng suddenly braked in front of me... and I fell.
As a result I have bruises on my arm and shoulder, and a cut on my face. It feels weird.
The fun thing about getting injured is that you automatically have a funny story for people, and you're absolutely sure that it won't offend any of them.
---
The school year ends, in a way that does not signify that it has been ending ever since it began. The pictures are taken (sadly, before I got the cut on my face), the fair booths have closed, and the children who are no longer children are found to still enjoy volleying a ball over a net. One has to wonder why they enjoy it, and why none of the cars around have volleyball-shaped dents in them. The sun throws caricatures called shadows across the ground, the math grades have been handed out and the Sir Nat students are in various corners of Pisay, complaining and celebrating and mourning, the treasurers chase around those heavily in debt to the class funds, the autograph books fly from hand to hand. The fair days are quiet and lazy and are spent doing nothing at all, which is honestly the most enjoyable task in the world, and which, deep inside, is the sole desire of every student after three days of exams. The periodical test results are posted inside the SHB's halls, and the students either take efforts to check them out of take efforts to avoid them- who wants to spoil the last days of the school year? (34 ako sa Physics perio! bagsak ako sa Chem. perio!) Classmates who will forget about each other over the next months, or when the new school year rolls in, or not at all, chat about concert plans and memories and
throw insults and inside jokes at each other. Questions that had never been asked are asked, friends that could have been but never were are salvaged, and classmates who fall off bicycles are rescued and asked if they were all right. Despite the silence of the days that stay in spite of the loud music, the students are at complete ease, and they make special efforts to let everyone know that they are not. These last days, everyone knows, are only escapes, temporary refuges from pressures that will never be abated and from expectations that will never be met.
And so, the school year ends.
I am typing this from my Asus Eee, whose name I still insist on pronouncing weirdly even though I thought that wasn't the way it was pronounced and then discovered that I was wrong and I was right, because for the past hour I have been trying to clean out my computer's keyboard. You cannot imagine all the dusty fluff that comes out of the gaps between the keys. I suggest you try it out. It's extremely cathartic.
---
And so, the school year ends. The cuts and bruises and lessons learned are still there, and no one knows if they will disappear, since no one will notice them disappearing anyway. And in my case, the cuts and bruises part is literal, due to biking. Two days ago, I raced against August four times, and won all four of those times. He said that was because he was being a gentleman. About an hour later, he lost control of the pedicab, and I crashed into a gazebo.
It was a fun experience.
Well, he only crashed once. I kept losing control when I drove the pedicab. I even crashed into the sound system. Guia lost control not at all.
Hey, that rhymes.
And then the day after that I biked twice, once with Tram and Menez, the second time with Airah and Menez and Paeng, And Paeng suddenly braked in front of me... and I fell.
As a result I have bruises on my arm and shoulder, and a cut on my face. It feels weird.
The fun thing about getting injured is that you automatically have a funny story for people, and you're absolutely sure that it won't offend any of them.
---
The school year ends, in a way that does not signify that it has been ending ever since it began. The pictures are taken (sadly, before I got the cut on my face), the fair booths have closed, and the children who are no longer children are found to still enjoy volleying a ball over a net. One has to wonder why they enjoy it, and why none of the cars around have volleyball-shaped dents in them. The sun throws caricatures called shadows across the ground, the math grades have been handed out and the Sir Nat students are in various corners of Pisay, complaining and celebrating and mourning, the treasurers chase around those heavily in debt to the class funds, the autograph books fly from hand to hand. The fair days are quiet and lazy and are spent doing nothing at all, which is honestly the most enjoyable task in the world, and which, deep inside, is the sole desire of every student after three days of exams. The periodical test results are posted inside the SHB's halls, and the students either take efforts to check them out of take efforts to avoid them- who wants to spoil the last days of the school year? (34 ako sa Physics perio! bagsak ako sa Chem. perio!) Classmates who will forget about each other over the next months, or when the new school year rolls in, or not at all, chat about concert plans and memories and
throw insults and inside jokes at each other. Questions that had never been asked are asked, friends that could have been but never were are salvaged, and classmates who fall off bicycles are rescued and asked if they were all right. Despite the silence of the days that stay in spite of the loud music, the students are at complete ease, and they make special efforts to let everyone know that they are not. These last days, everyone knows, are only escapes, temporary refuges from pressures that will never be abated and from expectations that will never be met.
And so, the school year ends.
---
And so, the school year ends. The cuts and bruises and lessons learned are still there, and no one knows if they will disappear, since no one will notice them disappearing anyway. And in my case, the cuts and bruises part is literal, due to biking. Two days ago, I raced against August four times, and won all four of those times. He said that was because he was being a gentleman. About an hour later, he lost control of the pedicab, and I crashed into a gazebo.
It was a fun experience.
Well, he only crashed once. I kept losing control when I drove the pedicab. I even crashed into the sound system. Guia lost control not at all.
Hey, that rhymes.
And then the day after that I biked twice, once with Tram and Menez, the second time with Airah and Menez and Paeng, And Paeng suddenly braked in front of me... and I fell.
As a result I have bruises on my arm and shoulder, and a cut on my face. It feels weird.
The fun thing about getting injured is that you automatically have a funny story for people, and you're absolutely sure that it won't offend any of them.
---
The school year ends, in a way that does not signify that it has been ending ever since it began. The pictures are taken (sadly, before I got the cut on my face), the fair booths have closed, and the children who are no longer children are found to still enjoy volleying a ball over a net. One has to wonder why they enjoy it, and why none of the cars around have volleyball-shaped dents in them. The sun throws caricatures called shadows across the ground, the math grades have been handed out and the Sir Nat students are in various corners of Pisay, complaining and celebrating and mourning, the treasurers chase around those heavily in debt to the class funds, the autograph books fly from hand to hand. The fair days are quiet and lazy and are spent doing nothing at all, which is honestly the most enjoyable task in the world, and which, deep inside, is the sole desire of every student after three days of exams. The periodical test results are posted inside the SHB's halls, and the students either take efforts to check them out of take efforts to avoid them- who wants to spoil the last days of the school year? (34 ako sa Physics perio! bagsak ako sa Chem. perio!) Classmates who will forget about each other over the next months, or when the new school year rolls in, or not at all, chat about concert plans and memories and
throw insults and inside jokes at each other. Questions that had never been asked are asked, friends that could have been but never were are salvaged, and classmates who fall off bicycles are rescued and asked if they were all right. Despite the silence of the days that stay in spite of the loud music, the students are at complete ease, and they make special efforts to let everyone know that they are not. These last days, everyone knows, are only escapes, temporary refuges from pressures that will never be abated and from expectations that will never be met.
And so, the school year ends.
officially over. okay, not really
Mar. 23rd, 2007 12:26 pmWell. There. This school year is officially over. Well, not really, since our class has not yet been cleared for Physics, due to the rubber things at the ends of those stools' legs. And we still owe a debt to the batch, and we don't know where it came from. I'm not going to contribute to it, since I don't know where it came from. Why should we pay it? For all we know, it's just an attempt of our batch officers to pocket money.
And that's why I didn't go to school today, to be able to escape from paying the debt. No, not really. No one could bring me to school-they all had different schedules- and I had no reason for going. But I don't mind going to school with no reason in mind. It's quite more fun that way. I would have gone had someone been able to take me.
---
I shall miss you all, Champaca 2009!
Okay, to be more accurate, I do miss you all, on the days without classes. Likely I'll miss you all more over the summer.
I'd like to thank you all for all the stuff you have taught me, and apologise for anything wrong I've done. Champaca was my first-choice section when I enrolled, since both Chii and Tricia were in it. I thought I would never end up in it, though- that would have been too perfect for real life. You can imagine my euphoria upon learning it was, indeed, Champaca I was assigned to be with for all of second year.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.This may sound like lying, but I never once wished I were placed in another section. Not even during the era of the so-called "Champa wars". Not even during Humanities Week, when I was firmly convinced that winning at anything was hopeless (I was half right). Not even when our financial situation was insane. Not even when we were stuck with an incompetent president. (Peace tayo, Jam.)
Now I wish I had been a better classmate to you all, that I had been nicer, that I had taken the chance to know some of you better. But no matter.
I can't say I have no regrets, but I can say that if the entire Champaca '09 were placed in one section next year I wouldn't die. Well, maybe I would, but at least I'd die laughing.
---
What was not-supposed-to-be-a-Champa-outing yesterday almost turned into one. We went out to SM North, and though it caused a lot of stress on my part I'm glad to have gone. Not everyone in Champa came, but it was fun nonetheless. Go Camm! Talo niya si Jamil.... And I supposed we all looked insane when we stared at the oculus
Overall, that day would have been perfect, had my phone worked properly and had my pride not taken over me. How stupid can I be? The last chance I get to see him, and I get mad at him over another little debate (looks familiar, Jilly?).
And it's also disappointing, knowing that I won't be in the DL anymore.
---
I'm sorry, I really am. I tend to drive people away, don't I? I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't lost my temper. There's nothing I can do about it now, though. I'm sorry- if there were a less cliche word for sorry I'd use it- and thanks for listening to me. Or just plain for being willing to put up with me. I owe you more than you owe me. Does that get through to you? Your debt to me partially cancels out my debt to you. I still end up indebted to you. =3
"... strain this chaos turn it into light
i've got to see you one last night
before the lions take their share
leave us in pieces, scattered everywhere..."
-Snow Patrol, You're All I Have
And that's why I didn't go to school today, to be able to escape from paying the debt. No, not really. No one could bring me to school-they all had different schedules- and I had no reason for going. But I don't mind going to school with no reason in mind. It's quite more fun that way. I would have gone had someone been able to take me.
---
I shall miss you all, Champaca 2009!
Okay, to be more accurate, I do miss you all, on the days without classes. Likely I'll miss you all more over the summer.
I'd like to thank you all for all the stuff you have taught me, and apologise for anything wrong I've done. Champaca was my first-choice section when I enrolled, since both Chii and Tricia were in it. I thought I would never end up in it, though- that would have been too perfect for real life. You can imagine my euphoria upon learning it was, indeed, Champaca I was assigned to be with for all of second year.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.This may sound like lying, but I never once wished I were placed in another section. Not even during the era of the so-called "Champa wars". Not even during Humanities Week, when I was firmly convinced that winning at anything was hopeless (I was half right). Not even when our financial situation was insane. Not even when we were stuck with an incompetent president. (Peace tayo, Jam.)
Now I wish I had been a better classmate to you all, that I had been nicer, that I had taken the chance to know some of you better. But no matter.
I can't say I have no regrets, but I can say that if the entire Champaca '09 were placed in one section next year I wouldn't die. Well, maybe I would, but at least I'd die laughing.
---
What was not-supposed-to-be-a-Champa-outing yesterday almost turned into one. We went out to SM North, and though it caused a lot of stress on my part I'm glad to have gone. Not everyone in Champa came, but it was fun nonetheless. Go Camm! Talo niya si Jamil.... And I supposed we all looked insane when we stared at the oculus
Overall, that day would have been perfect, had my phone worked properly and had my pride not taken over me. How stupid can I be? The last chance I get to see him, and I get mad at him over another little debate (looks familiar, Jilly?).
And it's also disappointing, knowing that I won't be in the DL anymore.
---
I'm sorry, I really am. I tend to drive people away, don't I? I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't lost my temper. There's nothing I can do about it now, though. I'm sorry- if there were a less cliche word for sorry I'd use it- and thanks for listening to me. Or just plain for being willing to put up with me. I owe you more than you owe me. Does that get through to you? Your debt to me partially cancels out my debt to you. I still end up indebted to you. =3
"... strain this chaos turn it into light
i've got to see you one last night
before the lions take their share
leave us in pieces, scattered everywhere..."
-Snow Patrol, You're All I Have
officially over. okay, not really
Mar. 23rd, 2007 12:26 pmWell. There. This school year is officially over. Well, not really, since our class has not yet been cleared for Physics, due to the rubber things at the ends of those stools' legs. And we still owe a debt to the batch, and we don't know where it came from. I'm not going to contribute to it, since I don't know where it came from. Why should we pay it? For all we know, it's just an attempt of our batch officers to pocket money.
And that's why I didn't go to school today, to be able to escape from paying the debt. No, not really. No one could bring me to school-they all had different schedules- and I had no reason for going. But I don't mind going to school with no reason in mind. It's quite more fun that way. I would have gone had someone been able to take me.
---
I shall miss you all, Champaca 2009!
Okay, to be more accurate, I do miss you all, on the days without classes. Likely I'll miss you all more over the summer.
I'd like to thank you all for all the stuff you have taught me, and apologise for anything wrong I've done. Champaca was my first-choice section when I enrolled, since both Chii and Tricia were in it. I thought I would never end up in it, though- that would have been too perfect for real life. You can imagine my euphoria upon learning it was, indeed, Champaca I was assigned to be with for all of second year.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.This may sound like lying, but I never once wished I were placed in another section. Not even during the era of the so-called "Champa wars". Not even during Humanities Week, when I was firmly convinced that winning at anything was hopeless (I was half right). Not even when our financial situation was insane. Not even when we were stuck with an incompetent president. (Peace tayo, Jam.)
Now I wish I had been a better classmate to you all, that I had been nicer, that I had taken the chance to know some of you better. But no matter.
I can't say I have no regrets, but I can say that if the entire Champaca '09 were placed in one section next year I wouldn't die. Well, maybe I would, but at least I'd die laughing.
---
What was not-supposed-to-be-a-Champa-outing yesterday almost turned into one. We went out to SM North, and though it caused a lot of stress on my part I'm glad to have gone. Not everyone in Champa came, but it was fun nonetheless. Go Camm! Talo niya si Jamil.... And I supposed we all looked insane when we stared at the oculus
Overall, that day would have been perfect, had my phone worked properly and had my pride not taken over me. How stupid can I be? The last chance I get to see him, and I get mad at him over another little debate (looks familiar, Jilly?).
And it's also disappointing, knowing that I won't be in the DL anymore.
---
I'm sorry, I really am. I tend to drive people away, don't I? I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't lost my temper. There's nothing I can do about it now, though. I'm sorry- if there were a less cliche word for sorry I'd use it- and thanks for listening to me. Or just plain for being willing to put up with me. I owe you more than you owe me. Does that get through to you? Your debt to me partially cancels out my debt to you. I still end up indebted to you. =3
"... strain this chaos turn it into light
i've got to see you one last night
before the lions take their share
leave us in pieces, scattered everywhere..."
-Snow Patrol, You're All I Have
And that's why I didn't go to school today, to be able to escape from paying the debt. No, not really. No one could bring me to school-they all had different schedules- and I had no reason for going. But I don't mind going to school with no reason in mind. It's quite more fun that way. I would have gone had someone been able to take me.
---
I shall miss you all, Champaca 2009!
Okay, to be more accurate, I do miss you all, on the days without classes. Likely I'll miss you all more over the summer.
I'd like to thank you all for all the stuff you have taught me, and apologise for anything wrong I've done. Champaca was my first-choice section when I enrolled, since both Chii and Tricia were in it. I thought I would never end up in it, though- that would have been too perfect for real life. You can imagine my euphoria upon learning it was, indeed, Champaca I was assigned to be with for all of second year.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.This may sound like lying, but I never once wished I were placed in another section. Not even during the era of the so-called "Champa wars". Not even during Humanities Week, when I was firmly convinced that winning at anything was hopeless (I was half right). Not even when our financial situation was insane. Not even when we were stuck with an incompetent president. (Peace tayo, Jam.)
Now I wish I had been a better classmate to you all, that I had been nicer, that I had taken the chance to know some of you better. But no matter.
I can't say I have no regrets, but I can say that if the entire Champaca '09 were placed in one section next year I wouldn't die. Well, maybe I would, but at least I'd die laughing.
---
What was not-supposed-to-be-a-Champa-outing yesterday almost turned into one. We went out to SM North, and though it caused a lot of stress on my part I'm glad to have gone. Not everyone in Champa came, but it was fun nonetheless. Go Camm! Talo niya si Jamil.... And I supposed we all looked insane when we stared at the oculus
Overall, that day would have been perfect, had my phone worked properly and had my pride not taken over me. How stupid can I be? The last chance I get to see him, and I get mad at him over another little debate (looks familiar, Jilly?).
And it's also disappointing, knowing that I won't be in the DL anymore.
---
I'm sorry, I really am. I tend to drive people away, don't I? I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't lost my temper. There's nothing I can do about it now, though. I'm sorry- if there were a less cliche word for sorry I'd use it- and thanks for listening to me. Or just plain for being willing to put up with me. I owe you more than you owe me. Does that get through to you? Your debt to me partially cancels out my debt to you. I still end up indebted to you. =3
"... strain this chaos turn it into light
i've got to see you one last night
before the lions take their share
leave us in pieces, scattered everywhere..."
-Snow Patrol, You're All I Have
just because
Mar. 9th, 2007 06:43 pmFinally. After ten months of madness and torture and Algeb. and corny jokes and requirements and incompetent rule and cramming and laziness and Geom. and new friendships and old friendships and controversies and new loveteams and new sections and pessimism and nonchalance and copying homeworks and C++ and failures and triumphs-
-IT'S OVER.
Okay, not really, but practically. No more exams (except for those taking postquarters slash removals- good luck to you), no more studying, no more homeworks and projects (except for some, I guess), no more C++ (at last! I have long waited for this day! ha ha...). Just intrams. And clearance. And poof! it's all over, for the next two months, at least.
It was worth living for, all the insanity of the past ten months, but it does have to end...
... and of course it seems too soon...
... but I don't think I can stand another Com. Sci. session or another test-that-I-know-I'll-score-low-in-as-soon-as-I-see-the-questionnaire. I guess the school really knows where our breaking points are. Or maybe it just plain tires of us and needs two months to recuperate.
Don't get the wrong impression, I love Champaca (yes, my classmates, you just heard/read me say/write that). And the second year, requirements and all. But it's nice to have a break from study, don't you think?
Like you actually study...
---
The first heart I've ever broken belongs to a catfish.
Let me elaborate. We dissected catfish this morning. Maybe dissected isn't the right term. I think mutilated would be a little more accurate. Just a little.
And we were supposed to look for its gills. So Tricia and Chii and I looked for its gills. And so we tried cutting its skin open.
Unfortunately, I was the one who wanted to cut it open. So I cut. And cut. And sooner or later blood was spewing from the catfish. But we saw the gills.
And then Sir Bioman asked us to look for the heart. We couldn't find it. So we asked him where it was. And he looked at the red blobs that had come out of the fish with the blood and said, "Dinurog n'yo yung puso niya!"
And from then on I was very, very careful with the scissors. Buti pa sina Chii at Tricia- theymutilated dissected the catfish with respect. I just cut, no matter what I was cutting.
And the funny thing about the catfish was, even though we- okay, I- had ripped its heart out, it was still moving. Pulsing. Tawa ako nang tawa. Tumitili si Tricia tuwing gumagalaw yung fish. Now, I'm not saying it was alive. I'm just saying that it was moving.
I love catfish!
"... let me be the one you call
if you jump i'll break your fall
lift you up and fly away with you into the night
if you need to fall apart
i can mend a broken heart
if you need to crash then crash and burn
you're not alone..."
-Savage Garden, Crash and Burn
-IT'S OVER.
Okay, not really, but practically. No more exams (except for those taking postquarters slash removals- good luck to you), no more studying, no more homeworks and projects (except for some, I guess), no more C++ (at last! I have long waited for this day! ha ha...). Just intrams. And clearance. And poof! it's all over, for the next two months, at least.
It was worth living for, all the insanity of the past ten months, but it does have to end...
... and of course it seems too soon...
... but I don't think I can stand another Com. Sci. session or another test-that-I-know-I'll-score-low-in-as-soon-as-I-see-the-questionnaire. I guess the school really knows where our breaking points are. Or maybe it just plain tires of us and needs two months to recuperate.
Don't get the wrong impression, I love Champaca (yes, my classmates, you just heard/read me say/write that). And the second year, requirements and all. But it's nice to have a break from study, don't you think?
The first heart I've ever broken belongs to a catfish.
Let me elaborate. We dissected catfish this morning. Maybe dissected isn't the right term. I think mutilated would be a little more accurate. Just a little.
And we were supposed to look for its gills. So Tricia and Chii and I looked for its gills. And so we tried cutting its skin open.
Unfortunately, I was the one who wanted to cut it open. So I cut. And cut. And sooner or later blood was spewing from the catfish. But we saw the gills.
And then Sir Bioman asked us to look for the heart. We couldn't find it. So we asked him where it was. And he looked at the red blobs that had come out of the fish with the blood and said, "Dinurog n'yo yung puso niya!"
And from then on I was very, very careful with the scissors. Buti pa sina Chii at Tricia- they
And the funny thing about the catfish was, even though we- okay, I- had ripped its heart out, it was still moving. Pulsing. Tawa ako nang tawa. Tumitili si Tricia tuwing gumagalaw yung fish. Now, I'm not saying it was alive. I'm just saying that it was moving.
I love catfish!
"... let me be the one you call
if you jump i'll break your fall
lift you up and fly away with you into the night
if you need to fall apart
i can mend a broken heart
if you need to crash then crash and burn
you're not alone..."
-Savage Garden, Crash and Burn
just because
Mar. 9th, 2007 06:43 pmFinally. After ten months of madness and torture and Algeb. and corny jokes and requirements and incompetent rule and cramming and laziness and Geom. and new friendships and old friendships and controversies and new loveteams and new sections and pessimism and nonchalance and copying homeworks and C++ and failures and triumphs-
-IT'S OVER.
Okay, not really, but practically. No more exams (except for those taking postquarters slash removals- good luck to you), no more studying, no more homeworks and projects (except for some, I guess), no more C++ (at last! I have long waited for this day! ha ha...). Just intrams. And clearance. And poof! it's all over, for the next two months, at least.
It was worth living for, all the insanity of the past ten months, but it does have to end...
... and of course it seems too soon...
... but I don't think I can stand another Com. Sci. session or another test-that-I-know-I'll-score-low-in-as-soon-as-I-see-the-questionnaire. I guess the school really knows where our breaking points are. Or maybe it just plain tires of us and needs two months to recuperate.
Don't get the wrong impression, I love Champaca (yes, my classmates, you just heard/read me say/write that). And the second year, requirements and all. But it's nice to have a break from study, don't you think?
Like you actually study...
---
The first heart I've ever broken belongs to a catfish.
Let me elaborate. We dissected catfish this morning. Maybe dissected isn't the right term. I think mutilated would be a little more accurate. Just a little.
And we were supposed to look for its gills. So Tricia and Chii and I looked for its gills. And so we tried cutting its skin open.
Unfortunately, I was the one who wanted to cut it open. So I cut. And cut. And sooner or later blood was spewing from the catfish. But we saw the gills.
And then Sir Bioman asked us to look for the heart. We couldn't find it. So we asked him where it was. And he looked at the red blobs that had come out of the fish with the blood and said, "Dinurog n'yo yung puso niya!"
And from then on I was very, very careful with the scissors. Buti pa sina Chii at Tricia- theymutilated dissected the catfish with respect. I just cut, no matter what I was cutting.
And the funny thing about the catfish was, even though we- okay, I- had ripped its heart out, it was still moving. Pulsing. Tawa ako nang tawa. Tumitili si Tricia tuwing gumagalaw yung fish. Now, I'm not saying it was alive. I'm just saying that it was moving.
I love catfish!
"... let me be the one you call
if you jump i'll break your fall
lift you up and fly away with you into the night
if you need to fall apart
i can mend a broken heart
if you need to crash then crash and burn
you're not alone..."
-Savage Garden, Crash and Burn
-IT'S OVER.
Okay, not really, but practically. No more exams (except for those taking postquarters slash removals- good luck to you), no more studying, no more homeworks and projects (except for some, I guess), no more C++ (at last! I have long waited for this day! ha ha...). Just intrams. And clearance. And poof! it's all over, for the next two months, at least.
It was worth living for, all the insanity of the past ten months, but it does have to end...
... and of course it seems too soon...
... but I don't think I can stand another Com. Sci. session or another test-that-I-know-I'll-score-low-in-as-soon-as-I-see-the-questionnaire. I guess the school really knows where our breaking points are. Or maybe it just plain tires of us and needs two months to recuperate.
Don't get the wrong impression, I love Champaca (yes, my classmates, you just heard/read me say/write that). And the second year, requirements and all. But it's nice to have a break from study, don't you think?
The first heart I've ever broken belongs to a catfish.
Let me elaborate. We dissected catfish this morning. Maybe dissected isn't the right term. I think mutilated would be a little more accurate. Just a little.
And we were supposed to look for its gills. So Tricia and Chii and I looked for its gills. And so we tried cutting its skin open.
Unfortunately, I was the one who wanted to cut it open. So I cut. And cut. And sooner or later blood was spewing from the catfish. But we saw the gills.
And then Sir Bioman asked us to look for the heart. We couldn't find it. So we asked him where it was. And he looked at the red blobs that had come out of the fish with the blood and said, "Dinurog n'yo yung puso niya!"
And from then on I was very, very careful with the scissors. Buti pa sina Chii at Tricia- they
And the funny thing about the catfish was, even though we- okay, I- had ripped its heart out, it was still moving. Pulsing. Tawa ako nang tawa. Tumitili si Tricia tuwing gumagalaw yung fish. Now, I'm not saying it was alive. I'm just saying that it was moving.
I love catfish!
"... let me be the one you call
if you jump i'll break your fall
lift you up and fly away with you into the night
if you need to fall apart
i can mend a broken heart
if you need to crash then crash and burn
you're not alone..."
-Savage Garden, Crash and Burn
