Pondering Paradise

What should I be feeling at this point of time? Guilt? Happiness? Sadness? Relief? Or a concoction of all the listed emotions? Truth is, I'm happy. I don't feel bogged down by that bundle of sadness that was greying my days anymore. A good improvement.
An aunt passed away yesterday. And as I watched her lying on the floor wrapped in the dismal white cloth that was customary, I flashed back to that October morning when my father was doing the same. One final act to be performed on this earth, to lie there cold and unmoving, as relatives, family and friends paid their last respects. Some with tears streaming down their cheeks, some visibly shaking as they try hard not to succumb to their sorrow, some stoic-faced as if gazing upon a dead body was not their cup of tea but they were forced to do it anyway.
Seeing her for the last time yesterday brought tears to my eyes and I realized that after nearly four months since his passing, I haven't really let my father go.
Is it weird or just plain hypocritical of me to say this? He was never a part of my life. Never. Only a small and insignificant portion. I met him only a handful of times in a year, always a few scant hours with awkward exchanges.
I knew this all along but I was ashamed of admitting it. But who was I ashamed of really? My Mommy? My friends? My family? My Mama? The people who knew I was adopted? Myself mostly. For not being there, for not stepping up, for being timid and useless, for being awkward in all the wrong situations and times, for being scared of responsibility. And where did that get me? No where. All I have to show that I made it is a bucket full of regret. All those times during the first semester of my degree spent with an ominous storm cloud over my head, telling everybody I was sad but I didn't know why, was because I missed my father.
Why though? Even as I'm typing this out my tears are threatening to spill from my eyes. Why can't I just let it go? I never expected his death to affect me profoundly. I always imagined that if one of my biological parents passed, I wouldn't be surprised if I became cold and detached, not caring one way or another.
How wrong that assumption turned out to be. Crying in the backseat of the car as silently as possible as my aunt drove us to the house where we'd recite prayers for my deceased and hoping that when we reached my red eyes would not betray my emotions to anyone.
Death. The final stage of the mortal existence. It is supposed to close a chapter, but more questions spring up, only to start another one. Why do we get so attached to people? Why is it when people die, we cry? Why can't we just live on forever? Why can't losing someone be painless? Why why why.
It's over and done, but the heartache lives on inside.
No matter. Remembrance of the dead will be done but life goes on nonetheless. The happy days are here and a new adventure begins in a week's time. Youth should not be wasted easily. Why nots to replace whys. Optimism and hope reign. In the mean time, I hope this fever, flu and sore throat would go away. Urgh.

Irish Surnames

I have a vanilla-flavored muffin stashed in my bag. I stuffed my face with copious amounts of gelato in the evening, had a nice nap, popped in and out of shopping malls, downed a a bottle of Vanilla Coke and currently in the process of enlightening my intellect with matters concerning the universe.
For the first time in a very sinfully long time, I feel content. And I have an intrinsic feeling that the happy days are here. And stay they will for a long tenure. Worries are shed and hope becomes a familiar face again. One way to describe this feeling is like being bouyed by this layer of inexplicable comfort, the wind on my back, the sun in my face.
The thing about being happy is it makes me lax. It sucks my creative juices into this unforgiving vortex, never to see the light of day again. Revel in the intoxication. There is no shame in it.

Hakuna matata... it means no worries for the rest of your days. It's a problem-free philosophy, hakuna matata. 

Good one, boys.

Whatever it is, I'm grateful to be alive. And I'm also grateful of the fact that my baby is still alive too, and that everything worked out just fine. No matter what's happened or what will happen, I love you. Yes, I do.

Certainty With an Un- Prefix

I remember seeing Fish the other day at the Main Auditorium. He was standing at the counter, waiting to collect his book voucher. I noticed that he looked at me for a fraction of a second, as though he wanted to tell me something. Possibly something important. Then that look faded away. No, I decided. No, I won't let myself dwell on it. What was the use? There was no proof to substantiate my facts. Well played, Fish. I underestimated you. Clearly, I was wrong. At that given moment I didn't mouth a single word to anyone because I sincerely thought I was imagining things. No one would have believed me anyway. They'd only say I was attributing a thing to something that was nonexistent. Why would Fish ever open his mouth in front of me? No reason. So kept it to myself, I did. Turns out my eyes weren't playing tricks on me after all. Apprehension blossomed rampantly within the pits of my stomach, like a seed of dread being planted at the bottom of my heart which grew into storm clouds that darkened my day. What if something like this happened in another situation and I was too blind to notice or say anything to anyone in fear that they'd shut me out, only to regret the consequences? Still, in this situation, I simply cannot find solace in knowing that I have the privilege to say, "I told you so."

Are you sad?
Yes, we may never get another chance. And maybe I'll never find out.

So... it's roughly about 18 weeks, right?
Yeah, of hell.

Do you think he'll still remember you by then?
I highly doubt he will.

You're attached, aren't you?
Sort of.

And that's bad?
Yes, most definitely.

So what are you going to do?
I haven't the slightest idea.

But, in a way, this is what you wanted, no?
Well, yes but he didn't have to bust his leg and take the semester off.

You said you saw Fish and his reaction, why not say something to someone?
And be branded delusional? They'd only say I was seeing things that weren't there because I like him.

You should have trusted your instincts.
Are you kidding me? It's the most unreliable thing after the wretched heart.

But it was right anyway.
Sheer dumb luck.

What are you thinking about right now?
Katy Perry's The One That Got Away.

What made you like him?
There's no way to describe it.

Maybe you should go with what your heart says?
Like I said, the heart is the most unreliable thing ever invented. I could never trust it with my life.

But you were right when you felt something was wrong.
So? It doesn't change anything.

Admit it, you have an uncanny ability of knowing when something doesn't feel right.
I do but never mistake it as a gift. It's a curse.

Define WMD.
Hope.

Do you think you're in the process of repeating the same mistake?
I'll never know if I don't try.

Look at the bright side.
I need a miracle. 18 weeks is too long a time.

Maybe you'll find someone new.
Maybe. Maybe not. I hope so, though. But even if I did, I doubt I'll ever recover fully.

Do you hate your life?
Don't ask.

Do you miss being happy?
How do you miss something you can't remember?

Do you think life is unfair?
Honestly, no.

What do you wish for?
To be happy.

But you know that having feelings for someone has a potentiality of leading to heartache and heartbreak?
Yes, I am aware.

And?
I just haven't mastered my heart yet.

Do you hate your heart?
Yes. Ironically, with all my heart.

So what will you do with it?
Rip it out of my chest, chop it into pieces, burn it and feed it to the hounds of hell.

Really?
Literally.

Do you think you're in too deep?
Yes. It's perposterous.

What do you want right now?
To feel calm and contented.

How do you feel now? In a general sense.
Like there's absolutely nothing to look forward to in life. Nothing truly excites me or makes my blood rush to my head and leaves me giddy.

Do you need a hug?
Yes, I do.

From?
Enigma.

Maybe things will look up. Maybe things will work out.
When, pray tell?

You'll find someone, don't worry. Someone who'll accept you and love you and appreciate you and make you happy.
Well he's taking a mighty long time now, isn't he? Idiot.

Misery is your best friend?
For life.

Are you jealous that everyone else is happy?
Yes. I'd be lying if I said no. And I'm scared that my time won't ever come.

What are you doing?
Over-thinking, what else am I fit for?

You should stop doing that.
Breaking the habit is hard to do.

But you're so young.
I know.

What's the rush?
I don't know.

He's not yours.
I know. And I have no right to feel this way.

Does he even know you exist?
I guess not. I can't say for sure. Maybe I imagined everything.

But he smiled at you.
I bet he forgot 5 seconds later.

Does he know your name?
I don't know. Maybe not.

Why didn't you do anything when he gave you signals?
Idiocy at work.

But you hoped?
I did. I'm so stupid.

What now?
Have a good cry and wish it all away. But that wouldn't change a single thing.

Would being defiant help?
Probably not.

Then face the facts, damn you!
Dealing with a heart that I didn't break, he said.

How about taking chances?
Terrified.

What would you like him to know?
That I could make him happy, if I had the chance.

Maybe you should talk to him.
I want to. Badly. To his face.

Bold.
It's a suicide mission.

Do you think he likes you?
A mere fantasy.

But you wouldn't know if you didn't try.
Opportunity eludes me still.

I wish you luck.
I'll be needing every ounce I can get.

So what happens next semester?
Keep my options open. I can't afford to get hurt again.

But you'd still hope for him?
Depends.

PS: I hope they don't kill Murtagh because that would only aggravate the situation.

The Expansion

Have We not expanded you your breast?

And removed from you your burden

The which did gall your back?

And raised in high esteem (in which) you (are held)?

So, verily, with every difficulty, there is relief:

Verily, with every difficulty there is relief.

Therefore, when you are free (from your immediate task), still labor hard,

And to your Lord turn (all) your attention.

Read the omens. They're there. In the winds, written on the walls, whispered by strangers, printed in between the pages of books. Heed them, embrace them. But ignore them never.

I was ready to give up. To be miserable. But lo! A message from the stars. A coincidence? That would be outright blasphemous. Verily, with every difficulty, there is relief. Hope. Hope. Hope. And know that even if it didn't work out, it was probably for the best; that it was just meant to be another lesson in life's unending syllabus.

Everything will be okay. Just have a little faith.

4/366

Grateful for today. Thank God all the spot questions came out, regardless of wether or not I made up my own philosophy instead of discussing the ancient Chinese one of Confucius and Tao as asked in the question paper. Anyway, who cares? Most importantly, I survived History!
Now it's just a matter of passing the damned subject. 2 down, 3 more to go. The 11th seems to be looming ahead, close but not yet attainable. Patience.
Somehow I get hungry all the time, even after I've eaten and have all these unexplainable food cravings. I start stuffing myself with sweet things and still feel hungry 5 seconds later. My God, what the hell is wrong with me? This is abnormal and absurd. Psychologically, this is affecting me. I'm already an emotional wreck, I don't need to be a physical one also. *le sigh*
But on the whole, my progress report is sprinkled generously with optimism. That's a good sign. Even though I waste my time procrastinating instead of clocking in much needed hours of revising my subjects for the final exams, the panic hasn't set in yet. It's subtle, but still under control. Nothing to fret about.
Hi. I saw you this morning, in that favorite but abominable article of clothing of yours. Seriously though, truth be told, I'm trying my level best to contain my enthusiasm whenever I see you. I know for a fact that the chances of you even slightly liking me back is below zero. So in light with not getting my heart broken again, I shall attempt to unlearn liking you. Theoretically easy, in terms of practicality: HELL.
You can't force something that isn't there. It's not wrong to hope for the best, right?
Urgh, I feel pathetic already.
To bloody hope or not to bloody hope? That is the question.
And I think I know the answer.