Sands of Time

I’m a crammer. I have known that since highschool. Not that I am confident, I’m just lazy. And my brain is not even comparable to Pentium 4 or Core 2 Duo.

Sad but true, law school does not seem to be something that I am fit to be in. And while time is ticking, bringing me closer to my first day of trial, I was there wasting hours. Yes, I even took the time to sit back and watch the premiere of Prince of Persia. I love Disney, and I was really happy for the action and the depth of affection — something which Disney never fails at.

The movie is not the point of this sentiment. But just like the context of the movie, time is like sands that run through our fingers — faster than we know it. And unlike the movie, there is no such thing that can help turn back time. I don’t know if Walter Bishop even knows the formula. Time always flies and we’ll have to blame that on physics. And while I do not intend to complain about my readings, I have to remind myself of my promise.

I did promise that I will do well in law school. And law school is not at all about brains, it is more about resilience and determination. And that also means going beyond my walls.

What a crap am I… Wasting all my precious time. I have to go now and say my prayers.

Unbreaking the Habit

I was never a bookworm. In fact, it would take me at least two weeks to finish reading a 4-page life story in a Reader’s Digest back in high school. And none of those readings was for my pleasure. Thanks to my teacher who made home reading reports a requirement.

And since I am too anxious about attending law school next month, which is by the way two weeks close, I went searching for some law students’ blogs. Some were melodramatic, some were the opposite, but one thing is common — they all complain about the heavy reading assignments.

Two weeks before school officially starts, I don’t have any clue as to what our references will be. I don’t even have my final schedule yet, except for the fact that I’ll be attending the afternoon sessions as I have willed myself.

The last time I checked, I couldn’t finish a small book about magic and wizardry because I find it a bit technical and less entertaining. But before that, I managed to read three books of the Mortal Instruments on a marathon. And even before that, a 300+ page book in more or less three days. I really struggled to entertain myself with intellectual masturbation to divert myself and prepare my brain for school. And technically, I called that “conditioning”.

Based on those stats, I could be a bit ‘conditioned’ now, but remembering the last book I couldn’t even recall the title only made me realize that I could be picky on my subjects. And that only spells tragedy.

And here goes the fortunate/unfortunate situation…  Lucky for me I got a copy of the materials for Introduction course which is due a week from now. Unlucky for me I was immediately bombarded with heavy loads of texts and cases. But still lucky I can find some time to go through some of them, if not all of them. Because there were about 90 of them, the majority being cases. And ding, ding, ding! We ought to discuss all these app 90 cases in five days. Thank goodness!

And so my ‘conditioning’ is not progressing as I am expecting. But I still have a week to cope.

But wait, shouldn’t my last week without school be my last chance for comfort? So no relaxation, maybe. Then I’ll take comfort in the fact that this last week of preparation is also my last shot for conditioning.

At Point Blank

This, I hope, my second attempt for the day, would prove to be successful.

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I have been meaning to update this blog the past few days.  I have had two drafts within the month but none ever reached a milestone of even seven lines.  I didn’t know where to start and what to write about until earlier, where I decided to explore on my ‘blank state of mind.’

I’ve had a lot in mind — all cluttered. And I am having difficulties in pinpointing which one is more or less concentrated, that being the point of all this blankness. I have had conducted trainings for our Gdynia and Bangalore counterparts within the last two to three weeks, and was split into worrying about the publication of a newsletter and another one — the other one finally released last week (and I’m guessing you’re troubled now, too). Well, too much about that. Last week was the 13Fs peak processing which almost successfully diverted me from all these cluttered thoughts, but then again, another stress didn’t prove to be a good break. And within those weeks I have been worrying about setting foot at a new school, indulging in my concerns and apprehensions for my new endeavors as an incoming law student. Not to mention my self-punishing thoughts on balancing work and school. And oh, I haven’t found yet a place in Makati to house the would-be more stressed me.

While I’ve been cramming with all these thoughts, I was also googling to possibly satiate a part of me that’s craving for vacation. And now, I have just realized that summer is almost over but not yet for me. I wanted to meet the old free-spirited me and ask her what it’s like to be almost finally gone. I’ve been searching for far-away places for the potential vacay, but always looking back to a neighboring getaway.

The 'fish mentality' at Nuvali

Yes, I am not yet done at watching these crowding fishes to fill me in. They remind me of simple joys and the simple need for sustenance. How painful it is to be human to need for something else and more.

I love the diversion of Paula having to pull off my shirt to get her another bag of fish food.

I love the mood of people watching the panicking creatures lazily. And the fishes remind me of crab mentality, only that they are not crabs and are not definitely pulling one another to get ahead.

I love the color of gold highlighting the dark waters with the sun setting at the farthest end. This is simple, sheer beauty. And realizing how I can find love within me in these strange, familiar moments only brings out a crooked smile on my face.

What a great diversion. And when I come back home, work in the office, I’d still find a lopsided world waiting for me.  It’s sad and it’s always true. But lucky for me, I know I can find little means to tilt it back a little.

Lately I’ve been finding out how I am changing from being a home-buddy to an outgoing person. I couldn’t be the loner that I used to be, because someone will always be trailing behind me. That is to accept that Paula and I will always be a package deal.

I have just realized that I am learning to find joys apart from my own. Whether the contention is at being blank or being full, I will always need to keep my cup half-empty, half-full. That I know for sure.

I do not know what point I have made, at least my writing has consoled me. Self-indulging, should I say.

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Oh, by the way, by virtue of math — a blank has no point.

Dearest B

B*, you are my dearest but you failed me.

I thought protecting you only entails effort and sacrifice — but a rare effort and a selfless sacrifice of losing, and self-losing at that. I’ve gone blind and wounded, but you were hard and too cold to recognize it. I’ve reached out for you only to cripple me more. And every time, I’ve simply stood upon my lonely will. Uncomplaining, still submissive.

I was strong, B. It took years before I succumbed to emptiness, right when I was drained of power, and finally, devoid of love. Then came the death of me.

I was in deep darkness, always reaching and losing. I waited for you to save my soul, but you never came. I guessed I have always been alone and never knew it. And suddenly, after what seemed like forever, I was reborn… And hopefully, entirely a new person.

But who can be a new person without the past being wiped off? I have memories of you in my system, B. And they sometimes spread and attack like viruses do. Then maybe you weren’t meant to be my hero, because I was the hero who bled dry for you.

B, I realized that my death was not for the perfect villain, but for the revived being who is sometimes haunted by repugnance  and regrets. I have woken up becoming aware of how protecting you has meant giving up my own security. But I condemn you not for that part of me choosing to protect you but for that part of you willing to expose me. Yes, B, all those times, protecting you meant hurting me as it killed me. It was my choice, yes, and yours too. Every step I made to defend you was your every opportunity to crush me. You never needed help, B, I was the one who’s dying and you were never at my rescue. And despite all my pain, I ensured your comfort at my own expense… And all those pain I took for you because you let me, you wanted me to, you asked me to.

It may sound bitter to accuse you of being the most selfish person, but it can never be any worse than admitting this honest mistake and signing to this tragic fate.

B, I have resigned to recognizing the fact that you are incapable of love, and yet I have loved you.

*a different B from previous post