Brutality of the Goddess

i’m supposed to be practicing the scales for the third position in my violin right now.  i promised myself that i wouldn’t study tonight.  i guess i just got a bit fed up of reading about the thousand and one ways the spaniards tortured the filipinos.  and perhaps i just got tired of thinking about special products and operations to algebraic expressions that have absolutely nothing to do with developmental communication.  sincerely.

well, let me tell you this: i miss writing.  you know, just writing about nothing and making no sense at all.  it’s a postmodernist trend, jessica zafra said, and heck, whatever postmodernism means isn’t really that important right now because to put it bluntly, postmodernism just doesn’t make sense.

let me tell you about my week lately.  it’s been quite interesting and to think that i knelt down before the start of the second semester and promised the lord that i’d be a very good girl come second sem.  i promised him that i will never get myself into any trouble and i will never darken the doorway of our college’s office ever again.  a few weeks after that when everything started to become so habitual, so very much like a freak routine, i found myself kneeling in front of the altar once more and telling God, "Lord, life’s so boring, nothing’s happening, what is this?  i need salvation from boredom ahora mismo!"

and that’s when you find yourself living the age-old cliche of ‘be careful what you wish for, it just might come true.’  it wasn’t exactly my idea of boredom buster but heck, it sure made me feel as if i was about to get a heart attack because i would actually be going against what i had promised the lord in the first place; it made me miss three classes; and it made me feel like fainting.  i found myself stopping for a moment and asking myself, ’stak, what the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?’

my dreams of being ignored forever by my least favorite person in the world suddenly crumbled into a thousand tiny pieces that were just too hard to put back.

but don’t take this wrongly.  although the initial reaction was doubt and self-condemnation, i’m glad everything happened the way it did.  it is a story to tell but a story that i won’t mind telling after i finally leave the halls of silliman to ensure that it’s something everyone else can look back to, think about, and at some point, laugh at.

i do remember causing havoc in high school and regretting it.  i promised myself right after that that i would be the most peaceful, less troublesome kid in college.  it’s funny how you almost always never get what you exactly wish for.  it’s funnier still how i remind me of a character in one of the books i wrote.  now, i thought that his life was interesting and all–until i actually lived it.  this particular character had this knack for attracting trouble anywhere, at almost any given time.  my life now, is pretty much like that.  sometimes, it gets all thrilling.  other times, i just want to revel in peace and be perfectly ignored by people.

however, i don’t attract trouble on purpose.  i don’t go looking for trouble at all.  i’m amazed actually of how it simply manages to find me when life ceases at a standstill.

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