WritingJune 22, 2004 1:06 am

Another random non-fiction prose written by yours truly.

I’d like to start my musings with a few questions I ask today about my life. Why did I suddenly open up to the world? To the people around me? To people I am so close with? Why did I have to suddenly talk to them just like any normal person? (like I would be…) Was it something that happened around me that started some reaction, something from deep within me, that started to come out of its shell, and finally open up to the world?

I used to remember that I was once perceived as an non-existent entity, an invisible individual who is viewed as someone whose only sole purpose in life is just for existing. In a world where society tends to be more complex, in a tangled web of relations, everything that you hope to believe, that society can somehow allocate and adjust its attention towards individuals such as yourself, is almost vague and can be accounted as near improbability.

On that view, my life tends to be portrayed as such. When I was in my elementary years, people around me see me as an introvert individual. In truth, I believe that I am. I rarely converse with others on topics that are commonly talked upon in society. They can just see me sitting all alone in an isolated place in our classroom, reading a book under the shade of a tree that is starting to shed its dried leaves on the asphalt playground on which there is partly soil on which the said tree stands. I never pay much attention to what is happening around me, anyway.

From my point of view, I can see them as they engage in social interaction. I could see two people talking about their everyday experiences. On another view, one person sits on a swing while the other person, probably a companion, pushes the seat where the previous person sits, slowly pushing the said seat with greater intensity; I could see the person sitting on the swing enjoying the feeling that she is engaged in. Two people from afar, a bench with no support on their backs, playing what I could see from my perspective as a board game, particularly Chess, as I could see the pieces placed on the board transferred from one position to another, as if by command of an intangible rule that governs the said game.

As I continue to view these activities from my position, it is then that I realized that I developed an attitude, a philosophy of sorts, that would somehow become my mantra whenever something happens that could attract the attention of some people and the subject of the conversation could not possibly be me: “I don’t care.”

Not much of me has changed in High School, but then I slowly starting to realize that I began to experiment with the activities that would classify me as a normal person, an individual that could participate in everyday situations, those that would determine what kind of individual I am to society. Slowly, I feel that I’m beginning to be assimilated into everyday activities in society. I join a few of the individuals I consider my friends on eating out of the campus. I began to join their conversations which could pretty much be about what is happening within their circle. As the conversation started to go deeper and into more serious and somewhat personal conversation, I started to realize that my understanding has been behind those that my friends could comprehend themselves By then, I became detached from them, slowly, and all the while entering into a somewhat pleasurable feeling, a feeling that I had before I came into the High School institution. A feeling of solitude, a sensation of individual bliss, a touch of loneliness that is slowly eating the life of me.

From there, I can see that now I have become what I am before: Alone.

Loosely based on a true story.

WritingJune 6, 2004 10:30 am

Just thought I’d post my first non-fiction piece, along with the music that seems to suit the content of my essay well.

“I wish I could’ve done something good for you.”

“I’m sorry.”

It was a beautiful Friday morning. The birds are singing outside, and the sky is crystal clear. The garden is in full blossom. People around the area are happily conversing with one another. Peace and happiness reign the place.

The same, however, cannot be said of a certain quarter in a silent building. The room itself was deprived of the ornaments of a decent quarter. All that’s left of the place were four white walls, each pair facing one another. A single bed and a wooden chair were the only furniture that are located there. Sitting, and leaning on one of the walls, a seemingly melancholy person resides there

On Room 123, there resides a person, by appearance a male, with black hair and tan skin, about 5′11″ in height, well nourished, and wearing a white gown, sitting silently and leaning on the walls of the room. He seems to be thinking deeply, judging from the way he sits there, with his chin resting on his knees. He pays no attention to his surroundings, which is nothing more than empty space bounded by cemented walls painted in white.

He just sits there, peering through a single window located in the opposite wall of his quarters, watching other people enjoy their happiness to the best that they can. He sighs at the scenery, wishing he could have the same happiness as before. Until that incident which shattered his vision of happiness.

It was October 27, 1995, a rainy Thursday, where a flood once raged the district. A storm was in the area, bringing strong winds and heavy rains to the residents. People everywhere were being carried away by the flood that they have to tread carefully across to avoid being carried off.

One of the residents who lived there includes the boy, who we name as Adam, together with his family. They were among the other people, carrying a few of their belongings with them, fleeing the area. Other residents include a 12-year-old girl, who was his childhood friend. They were from the same district, which would explain their strong friendship. Little did they know that this tragedy would be the one to break their eternal relationship, and leave one of them scarred for each other’s loss.

“Why did I abandoned you? Why haven’t I saved you? Why haven’t I done anything to revert this fate that still haunts my very being?”

“There is no reason for me to go on anymore!”

Looking back to the present, it seemed from the previous incident that the prophecy came true to the surviving resident, Adam. His sorrow still grows after the death of his best friend who, unknown to us, became his girlfriend back then. He mourns over her death, thereby secluding himself from society and succumbing to his solitary presence in this very room.

ContemplationsJune 4, 2004 4:17 pm

Lately, I’ve been thinking. I was starting to accustom myself to my new schedule, which included a whole day of no classes.

Currently, I’ve got 2 pending assignments on my study table. One was from my Integral Calculus class, which my inner voice keeps telling me to “get off the computer chair and do your homework”. Guess what, it’s still nagging me.

My parents continue to encourage me to study hard so that I can fulfill my ambition (Before, it was a dream.) of becoming a successful computer programmer. That encouragement still stands with me today as I struggle to understand problems plagiung me while studying for, let’s say, Calculus. I know Mathematics is not my forte, but if I can’t live through this, my ambition will revert back to a dream, an impossible one at that.

Well, I’ve stopped dreaming when I reached 1st year college. It took me that much time to realize that you can’t live your life fulfilling a dream. You must somehow exert an appreciable amount of effort in order for that dream to become an ambition, and then reality.

Talking myself isn’t helping me much. It just makes my college life more aggraviating. Even now, I’m having difficulty typing this entry as millions of ideas start to flow out at once, too much for my hands to handle. That just exemplifies how much I’ve been babbling to myself, though I accomplish as much task as I can handle.

Well, I’m off now. Got to focus on that Calculus assignment, as well as the new entries to my already frustrating school life: Programmming and Newtonian Physics.

Gotta go! I’ll write to you some other time, OK?