Rambling

Just speaking my mind.

I can't seem to write in the afternoons. Not in this heat. Not without taking a bath. Not in this semi-silence, punctuated by birds chirping and the occassional motorcycle's brooom and the sound of my little neighbors playing.

I'm rambling.

I've finished 133 chapters of Fairy Tail. And now, I have to wait. Wait for the next chapter. I'm one of those people who dislike waiting, I realize. I usually want things when I want them. I have little self-discipline. It all boils to that.

But wait I shall.

Every morning, I wake up and the first thing on my mind is that I have got to start reviewing my anatomy lesson. Reviewing isn't even the term. My tuition seems such a waste, considering the fact that I seem to have learned so little in the first year of med school.

Study. That's what's always uppermost in my mind. I really must be a nerd. There's no escaping the truth.

But I'm a lazy nerd. I'm a fan of procrastination. And the days go marching by, slowly it seems, lazily almost... but then I'll get the shock of knowing the time is up.

My time is almost up.

Yeah. I'm not making too much sense right now.

:)

A Piece of my Life

It has stopped raining. Outside, the frogs are croaking themselves hoarse in a beautiful, froggy symphony.



Mama's asleep in her room. My brother just woke up. He had fallen asleep in the sofa, waiting for me to finish my turn using the internet.



There's a "platito" beside the laptop, displaying the remains of a piece of carrot cake mama bought this afternoon.



:)

Papa.

Papa.

I think it's sad that we have learned to live without him around. I "think" it's sad. I don't "feel" sad. I'm objectively speaking. And that makes it sadder.

My papa is a seaman. My childhood was punctuated with his absence and his presence. But when we got older, the absence became greater. We learned to adapt until his absence became the norm.

In fact, it now feels a little crowded whenever Papa is home.

If he had been a better husband, maybe things would have been different. Maybe we'd have been what a family is supposed to be.

As it is, we've given him so many chances that we're... tired. It's getting harder to give him the benefit of the doubt.

That was what I was thinking early this afternoon.

But then again, after Papa called and gave some lame excuse as to why an unknown woman was texting my mother rather obscene stuff, I still felt for him.

In the end, he's still my father. Mama doesn't love him. My younger brother and sister are both indifferent. I'm on my way to being indifferent. But then I hear his voice and I can't help but love this imperfect man who is partly responsible of bringing me here on earth.

Kids

My classmate from kindergarten has an adorable, 2-year old boy. He's also married and there's another baby on the way. Some of my other classmates from grade school and high school also have kids now. And I'm willing to bet that practically all of my former classmates have, or have had, relationshps.

Which makes me feel rather... old.

I'd like to have my own kids.

But the way I look at it, I'd be lucky to get into relationship by graduation. And besides, I don't plan on getting married right after graduation. During residency perhaps? Or maybe after. *Sigh*

Kids are out of the question for now. But I do hope I'd have my own family by early thirties.

Hehe. I know. I'm thinking waaay ahead.

But then again, something struck me this afternoon. Why hurry? Things will come in its own time. There's no need to rush into a relationship... into marriage... into family life. Because if I do, I'd look back and regret not being able to enjoy the blessings of being young, single and free.

.xoxo.

Change

On three separate occasions, I was told that in the five years since high school, I haven't changed at all.

Physically, that is.

I haven't grown a single centimeter since first year high school. (I stopped growing after 5 feet.) And thanks to my unhealthy lifestyle (... the abnormal sleeping and eating pattern common to nursing and medical students...), I've managed to stay within 100-110 lbs, which happens to be my high school weight, as well.

Also, my fashion sense has only improved minimally. Which means I'm still the t-shirt-and-jeans girl I was way back then. Plus I've never really learned to use make-up. I'm guessing that these things help make me look a whole lot younger than I really am.

I'm actually flattered.

But then, the change (or the lack of it), is not only skin deep. I'm still pretty much the same girl who graduated in high school. More or less.

I still LOVE watching cartoons and japanese anime. I still love books. I still don't have a boyfriend. I'm still a fashion disaster. I'm still the simple girl who enjoys the simple things in life.

To say that I haven't changed at all may be a bit extreme. No change equals rigor mortis, after all. The four years of nursing and my one year of med school were not a total waste.

But I guess what I'm happy about is the fact that I've retained the good things I love about me.

And that's a good thing.

Feelings

Today, I feel rejected. It's natural. I won't elaborate. I won't blame. It's just a fact.

The Slightest Pang of Regret

He used to be this tall, rather cute, skinny kid. He was, in many ways, an ideal guy. Smart, talented, funny. But I didn't fall for him. And I broke his heart.

Five years later.

Five years can do a lot. And suddenly, he's this new person. The same, in many ways. But more mature. More grown-up. And well, yeah. Cuter. But the real difference go way beyond the external.

And suddenly, I'm looking at him with new eyes.

Still, it was awkward. But then I've always been an awkward person. I could never really look at him at the eye. Never really bring myself to talk to him with ease. Between us is the past. The hurt is, I believe, forgiven and forgotten. But that certain wall still exists.

But maybe it's just me.

I felt the slightest pang of regret. And what-could-have-beens played in my head.

But as I look back now, with a clearer perspective, I realize that if I could go back, my decision would be the same. He'd still be the boy he was and I'd still be the girl I was.

But maybe, if I could go back, I'd be less thoughtless... inflict less hurt...