A Look Back: 2001 (Con't.)

June 16, 2001 – Saturday

I went to Sunshine Mall with my cousins. I don’t have hatred during moments temptation pushes me to feeling it. I’m very lonely. The loneliness is breaking me. I cannot escape it because it always comes. Whether I surpass the melancholy tomorrow, it is useless. Everything will happen again. Unhappiness drowns me and instead of memories uplifting me, they push me deeper that I waddle through the bitter taste of gleaming concealed teardrops.

Everything around me is turning. I’m the only that’s still.

Like time when it stood still as I had a glimpse of the most heartwarming smile. Have you ever embraced the clinging breeze? It was like that. I was aware of the gentle wind coming. My eyes proved they were real, humiliating my doubting mind. I reached out and my arms closed around nothingness, humiliating my eyes.My mind conquered the illusion of loving someone who was as sporadic as the wind.


June 20, 2001 – Wednesday

I was supposed to go to BF today. To see the people who continue to inspire me. Instead, I’m sick with the flu. Sigh.

Aunt L wrote me a letter. She was very supportive. She gives the impression that she’s very open-minded. I feel grateful for the moral support she gives me. Pretty soon, we’ll finally be able to see her. Mom’s been so excited to see her. So excited that she’s even giving our share of the stuff Aunt L sent us.

I’ve been experiencing a weird feeling. I think it’s because I’m sick. The pain. A steady throbbing in my temples. The churning fluids of my body flowing in rhythm with the continuous drops of the rain...

June 21, 2001 – Thursday

“In your eyes, I can see my dreams’ reflections.

In your eyes, found the answers to my questions.

In your eyes, I can see the reason why our love’s alive.

In your eyes…we’ve drifted safely back to shore. And I think I’ve finally learned to love you more.”

June 22, 2001 – Friday

Sometimes I feel a certain fear inside me. I am not afraid of myself. I’m only afraid that I might not live up to the expectations my loved-ones have for me.

June 30, 2001 – Saturday

I find it really ironic that I wrote about my fear of failing people and find Dickens’ novel Great Expectations, a few days after. It is a bewitching work of art and thought I should always have a dictionary beside me, I can relate to the general mood of the story.

Furthermore, I have realized that I do not have the makings of a great writer. I cannot, in my mind’s eye, picture a place or a person vividly like Charles Dickens. Being seventeen years old, I am likened to the chameleon because I adapt the style of the writer whose work I currently read.

In a while, Mom and I would be sleeping on our sleeping bag spread out on the floor while Aunt D and her daughters would be sleeping on a straw mat atop newspapers, painstakingly stapled together by Mom. We don’t have anything else to contribute. We’re destitute ourselves.

I cannot sleep at all. No matter how tired I may be, my mind refuses to yield.

Morpheus, I scorn you! How you give them sleep, those who should not stop thinking…and how you show the world in its most unimaginable form at night to me, a commoner…

Dear God above, please let me cease to find him everywhere. Where my broken heart lies, his ghost pays homage. Ah, sadness would fill my heart if only my heart had remained and had not been stolen.

Ate N texted me yesterday. She said she saw Ate O and Ate L in Glo. They’ve arrived from Egypt.

Later…

The house of my Grandmother, which we currently live in, is now nearly empty. Thanks to my Uncle F, Aunt D’s husband. He thought it was a just punishment for Aunt D, K and Ate A to strip the house of their things, furniture and appliances. I am devastated that my cousin is experiencing such a hard time when she should be enjoying her young life. She endlessly pounded her stomach awhile ago, the baby near extinguished, him ignorant of the fact that the hands that beat upon him are those of his own bearer.

Isn’t it ironic? Always the innocent should suffer.

And they welcome suffering as if nothing else would make them merrier.

July 3, 2001 – Tuesday

Sleep fails to come. When my ears come in harmony with the ticking of the clock above my head…I start to tremble.

He is my Estella.

July 7, 2001 – Saturday

I’ve just finished reading Great Expectations. How to describe it…

I try to comprehend but all I have come to realize is how little I know and how much I feel. John Irving was right about the accomplishment of the novel. It is able to move readers yet even this is an understatement.

The book’s aim was not to challenge the readers’ logic but more of to appear as an ethereal painting. The colours are the sentiments.

I feel as if I had been Pip all throughout his life. That I, too, became eternally haunted by Estella. I feel as though I can never transcend the mediocrity of my mind’s expression. The more I try to find the road to enlightenment, the more I realize I am living an ephemeral life.

As long as the conscience is alive and the wit sharp…the end is a long way off.

I cannot fade and die. Death is slow and agonizing...

…And soon common to me like a long-awaited friend.

Night is aberration.

He humiliates me with a needless display of power only to prove that I cannot sleep until he wills me to.

July 11, 2001 – Wednesday

I went to Camp Crame with Lola, Tita V and Mom. I kept trying to make them laugh and they seemed to enjoy my stunts. Everything’s filed with the PVAO…except they need certification for the old documents. The guy at the desk was a real pain in the ass.

Good thing the other attorney was more polite. He was sort of impressed by my card. Geez. The next time I go there, I’ll bring G with me. He’ll probably faint.

July 16, 2001 – Monday

The events last night were incredible. Two weeks ago, Uncle F took K and Ate A to live with him at his house. He said he is better suited to take care of them and give them a better future compared to what they’ve come to under Aunt D’s care.

Yesterday, K appeared out of nowhere, wailing, “Mama!”

Her face was wet with tears. She was trembling and was hanging on to Aunt D as if her life depended on it. Soon as she calmed down, she started telling us about the ordeal she went through. She had a bruise on her upper lip, saying that it was because Uncle F shoved her on the table. According to her, he even pointed a knife. She escaped out of fear and determination to warn her sister that Uncle F swore that if they met, he’d kill her sister. All because Ate A asked Uncle F is she could leave for a while with a friend to attend a certain function and he agreed but since she didn’t return, even on the following day, he became angry.

Kuya C, and I texted since he still refuses to help them with expenses. I think it’s something he should work out on his own with his family because he seemed resolved to take a break from helping them.

Anyway I went to Las Pinas and spent time with the posse. After that, Beautiful Clouds was kind enough to let me spend the night at her house. I only wish we had more time to talk and bond. She had class the following day.

I didn’t even get to talk to Poet.

I’ve made a list of the books I’ve read so far.

Jurassic Park, Eaters of the Dead           = Michael Crichton

Little Women, Little Men                         = Louisa May Alcott

Dracula                                                 = Bram Stoker

Great Expectations, David Copperfield     = Charles Dickens

The Wanderer                                        = Fritz Lieber

Wuthering Heights                                 = Emily Bronte

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea               = Jules Verne

July 19, 2001 – Thursday

I rushed Mom yesterday to the hospital. She has a stone in her kidney. We thought she didn’t have any stones anymore. Hopefully, since the best medications are too costly, we’ll just crush it with medicine instead of the recommended shockwave. I can’t stop worrying about her. All I can do to help her is pray for the Lord to intervene.