Friday, November 9, 2007


I have not been sleeping very well these days. And it shows. The first day of class for the second semester, and the first conversation thrown in my direction revolved around my eyes.

"Have you been crying?"


"Stung by a bee?"


"Then what happened to your eyes?"

Okay, what can I say, aside from the obvious? I don't know why I don't look forward to sleeping anymore. Wait, I do. It's just that I'm starting to get tired of always being disappointed 'cause it never comes around when I want it to.


In other news:

I’m feeling very bummed out about my final semester at school. Everywhere I turn, I am always hounded by the thought that I have to do my thesis. Wait, it's supposed to be OUR thesis, only it seems like I'm the one bearing the brunt of the burden. Thesis thesis thesis. It's hounding my waking hours, like I'm hearing the beating heart of a man I just murdered. And everytime I think about it, the rest of my life seems to flash before my eyes. (I'm never going to get a good job. I have lost all opportunities for career advancement. I have failed the gods!)

I ought to stop beating myself in the head with this. But I feel so alone. Everyone else seems so caught up in their own struggle for academic survival. The environment in class, I feel, has turned artificial. We're like zombies with permanent smiles plastered on our faces. It feels like no one can keep up a lively conversation anymore, because at the back of our heads lies the thought that "there's work to be done." Everyone wants to avoid talking about it, but it always seems to rear its ugly head in every instance. I, for one, have come to dread small talk, since it always leads to the inevitable query of "Kamusta'ng thesis nyo?" And each time I hear that question, all liveliness seems to dissipate from my body. I don't see how I can answer that question now with a smile in my heart.

And now, I even sense the tension getting thicker and thicker. Oh it's vicious, I don't even want to go into the details. I'd never have imagined the last year of college could be so harrowing. Ah, life's what you make it, as they say. What bull.

Oh, what I wouldn't give to see the day when I am posed that all-important question and I can finally tell them, with a deep breath of satisfaction and the triumphant pump of a fist, "It is done." Right, right. Daydream’s over; must get back to work.

(Song playing at the back of my head: U2, Stuck in a Moment)