my life’s slowly making sense now

today has been amazing and i believe that this is something worth sharing in this blog.

so, i only got 3 mistakes out of 60 items in my midterm exam. i can’t help but laugh when my teacher showed me my test paper. i fucked up a part of that test and i was so certain that i might commit more than 3 mistakes. but yeah, she ended up announcing my score to our class to “inspire” my classmates. it’s not a big deal but i admit that it truly made my day.

fast forward to when i just got home from school. we were dismissed early today so while i was resting, i spent most of my time waiting for my USTET results.

even though i found the exam quite bearable than the ones i’ve taken afterwards, i still can’t help but feel anxious about the results. what if i fail? what if i was too blind to see the hardship that it really takes to pass that exam?

and so, just as the clock in my sister’s laptop struck 12, i immediately refreshed the tab that has been open in her desktop for two hours. i vowed to myself that i will let my younger sister type in my reference number and surname to know my results since i cannot do it myself. i am too nervous and too excited at the same time. i am all over the place. literally. i was already lying on the floor, preparing myself for the results, telling my sister that it’s alright if i didn’t pass and she could always tell me the truth.

unfortunately, the results didn’t show. her desktop sucks.

what she did afterwards sent me into a tangled chaos of emotions again. she grabbed her phone and tried logging in my account at the website. before announcing my results, she even thought of making a drum roll in our house. she grabbed the drumsticks from our drum set and started making a discreet sound of drum rolling in our house, all of these happening while our neighbors remained undistracted from their slumber.

afterwards, she began reading what was presented on her phone. she was mentioning something about communication arts, which is my first choice, and i was too frantic, i am dying to know. so i went straight ahead to the question that has been keeping my heart beat so loudly in its cage, “PASADO BA?” (“Am I qualified?”). her answer, as if it was a trampoline, brought my feet bouncing up and down on the floor. i passed my exams. however, i still need to report for another requirement. i need to pass my interview.

even though i was hesitant to do so, i rushed into my parents’ room, where my mother was already sleeping, only to find my mom was already sitting on her bed, quite mad that i was so noisy especially when our neighbors had already gone to sleep. but i can’t help it. i really can’t. so i told her that i passed. and i cried.

when i knew about my dcat results, i told myself that i will not celebrate until the ustet results are out. i want to celebrate the results of the exams that i took both on the same day– October 15, 2017. i took my ustet exams during the morning and my dcat exams at the afternoon.

and now, i am so proud of myself because i passed both of them. i don’t want to brag about it but i also promised myself that now, i will let myself celebrate. i will not let anyone invalid this simple joy that i acquired because i worked hard for it. i will celebrate and allow myself to feel proud of myself for once (even though i still have 3 more exams to ace).

now, i have to wait for upcat, pupcet and plmat results.


-God, my God, you have been with me all throughout my life, and I, who have received nothing but great blessings from You, am still learning how to thank You for everything. thank You’s are not enough. i wish i could repay You for all of the things that You have done for me, my family and friends. 

my heart will be full of nothing but undying love for Your holiness and, with that, i will always adore You. 

Advertisements

January (2 years after)

The last time I woke up early, the sun was hiding. Instead, there were gray clouds hovering above when I look out from my windowpane. It wasn’t the same anymore– except for the breeze. It was the same gentle blow of breeze that always kept me nostalgic during January. This time, I embraced it in my bed from my dorm. I kept my reclined position against my soft mattress. Turned my fan off and held my blanket closer to my body, covering my torso down to the bare softness of my feet. Two years ago, I would head out as early as 6 am to get ready for another tiring day at school.

This time, I have realized, it is different.

The memories haunted me again when I found an old journal of mine. It was a gift from a best friend who lives in the Netherlands. After avoiding it for 3 years, I have finally read the musings again– some of them I wrote when the memories were still fresh at the back of my mind, some are notes that I’ve taken during seminars and forums that I was chosen to attend to.

While I was flipping through the pages of poetry and prose that my 14-year-old self had written in that journal, I came across a poem that was too late to be finished now. It reminded me of my copy of “Wreck This Journal” by Keri Smith. When I brought it at school to show it to my friends, I received nothing but scolding. They’ve always asked me why I spent a lot of money for something that was only sold to be destroyed (at least, in a creative way). I would defend myself saying, “It was worth it”. So what I did after reading the unfinished poem was rush to my mini bookshelf and find my copy of “Wreck This Journal” on the stack of books that I perfectly organized according to their sizes.

And my, oh my. What a joy it was to read all the silly, meaningless stuff my friends and I wrote in its pages.

There was this one page that I have given up for them to doodle on. The instruction was clear, I have to hang the page on a public place and let the people doodle in it. Being a meticulous book hoarder with severe trust issues, I have allowed only my grade 9 classmates to do it. Excited to have finally been allowed to join in the fun (and destoy a priceless property of mine) , they grabbed the journal and wrote (and drawn) all the things that they can think of during that time.

If I have decided to see their doodles again two years ago, I was certain that I would feel sad. But now, what I only heard was laughter. And to my surprise, it was coming from me.

In that page, a name of a particular person was written for so many times. The initials were written in the center, with a large font size, by my bestfriend. It is a common name. So generic that back then, I wished I could never see it again in souvenir stores. I was thinking to myself, “God, I was so naive back then”.

I flipped through the other pages and saw my favorite doodles. I admired how I was able to manifest my creativity by gently destroying that book. However, I was upset, too. There were so many questions running in my mind. All of these emotions I felt simultaneously when I was trying to remember, “What was in my mind back then?”, “What was I like back then?”, “Would 14-year-old me like me if she could meet me one day?”, and most importantly, “Did I change?”, “Was I able to find my old self?”.

For once, I brushed all of them off. It was sad to think that I have already forgotten what it was in my mind back then. Or what was I like back then. Honestly, I couldn’t remember anything. It feels like I have really convinced myself to forget everything that made me feel something warm, and sappy, when I was in junior high school. I guess that what happens when you get terribly hurt in loving someone– in loving yourself. You make yourself forget that thing, or person, that has hurt you. You tell yourself never to go back again. You tell yourself to heal and never do the same mistakes again. And once you’re done with all of it, you are left with a new version of you. Unfortunately, this new version of you can’t recall anything in the past but the hurt that you have been through. And that’s alright.

That’s alright.

But please, if you’re going to hurt, do not convince yourself to forget again. Learn to accept the way things are. And I tell you, it would be easier to redeem yourself once you have found yourself lost again.