Monday, January 31, 2005

you'll...

never know nationalism in its fullest sense until your country suffers from poverty, oppression by other nations, and loss of its citizens.

now

Seven school weeks to go, and I’d be out of this place I really didn’t choose to be a part of. It was just like yesterday when a friend started this count down, and that was 36 weeks away from march. I can’t describe how I am feeling right now. It’s a mix of so many emotions: excitement, fear, pleasure, anxiety, delight, thrill, la la la la la. And yes, sloth, because when march comes, I have to face the drudgery of going back and forth to these two schools, the registrar, the ADAA, the guidance office, and the DSA. The fear comes because all these hard slog can result to nothing, the possibility of failing is right in front of my face and I don’t know how to deal with it, or if I can really deal with it. (As I’m writing this, I’m realizing how petty my problem is compared to most people; but I’ve never wanted something so much in my life. Except this polly pocket castle when I was six or seven. I’ve never felt this afraid and unnerved.) This is the first time I’ve admitted to myself that I am afraid and scared shitless. I used to not care. I was indifferent to college life and the school I would enroll and graduate in. I even thought of going to this Montessori College because it was five minutes away from my house. So why am I like this right now? Because I’ve experienced and I’ve learned, although not a lot, but enough to make me want to go back. It’s not the name or the prestige; it’s about the education, the lessons in and out of the classroom. It’s about my mom who was so delighted that I was studying there. It’s about her fulfillment of knowing that she has given me the best. It’s about her satisfaction of knowing that her daughter can. I want to get out of this hell. I know I can hold on for another seven weeks. But after that, I’m not assured of anything. And that’s what pains me. Now I’m talking about pain. Shit. But I must admit that somehow, this school year has not been boring, I’ve made real friends. Actually, many of my “first times” happened because of the people I met here. It has been a fun eight months. But it’s not enough; it’s not what all there is.