Prudence I Write

Only two weeks to go before the medical board exams and yet, here I am, in front of the computer, typing away my thoughts while listening to Baby Face and Desiree’s "Fire".  The break from reading books and review materials, I think, is well-deserved. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, this journal entry I write, in celebration of the return of my Muse.

Earlier this afternoon, having woke up late, I was so disappointed in myself and so decided to clean up my room and arrange my books as a sort of redemption.  As I’ve finished stuffing my other books in their respective places in the shelf, I noticed some old stationeries and notebooks buried underneath some big brown envelopes.  Wanting to put everything in place, I checked what those were and found out shortly that these were poems I wrote when I was still in high school and during my early years in college.  These were the only remnants of the numerous literary pieces I must have written.  I remember that I have been known as a writer when I was in high school, having joined and won many essay-writing contests at that time and being literary editor of the school newspaper.  And so everybody presumed that I would pursue this kind of career.  But when the time came for senior high school students to apply for college, most were surprised to find out I was applying for a biology degree program in one of top universities in the country. 

I adjusted fairly well when I started college in DLSU.  I enjoyed membership in Societas Vitae, our biology students organization, and gradually felt at home in the new school with new friends.  Then, I joined Malate, one of DLSU’s literary publication.  It was my chance to further explore my talent in writing.  It was exciting at first, because I knew that it was not easy to get into such an organization.  But I noticed that I started to have difficulty with my composition.  Before, I just used to get my writing notebook and write down my thoughts during the day and turn it into a more literary form.  But then, I noticed that ideas just didn’t come so easily anymore.  A coffee cup, before, used to have poetry, and I would find myself for days writing about a particular coffee cup.  It was as if the world did not seem to buzz with life anymore.  A writer’s block, it seemed, but of the kind that I never encountered before.  I felt at that time that I wouldn’t be able to do my part in Malate anymore so I decided to leave.  And that was the last time that I ever wrote poetry or a short story.  There were times that I tried to come up with something new but all were in vain.

And then, these past few days I have been in a state of emotional high, being in the lowest point of my entire life several times in just few days.  I have to admit that, what bothered me most was my growing affection to a male friend and his seeming lack of interest in it.  I went through several cycles of depression and normalcy, thinking what I did wrong and would Love ever look favorably upon me.  I cried throughout the night, when I know my parents were already deeply asleep.  I tried to act normal whenever my friend called and restrain myself from reacting emotionally whenever he talk of girls that made a pass at him or of the escapades that he had in the past.  I was such in a distressed state that, finally, I found comfort in pouring all my emotions in the form of writing. 

Yes, I was able to write again after how many years of trying in vain.  I wrote about the happy memories that my friend and I had, of the times that we shared in the most embarrassing moments, of the situations when he gave me comfort when I most needed it, of the times when I thought he would finally reciprocate the feelings that I have for him.  I wrote furiously, with no thought of having to make it good for someone else.  I just wrote and wrote…for myself.

So, finally my Muse came back to me…at a time that I needed Her most.  So now, though how much my friend would talk to me about how this girl who liked him proposed to him or tell me about what new things she gave to him, I will not be that much distressed anymore.  Yes, I still care for him and I still feel jealous.  I still do cry about it at times, thinking why do I have to suffer in silence.  But not that much anymore.  I have Hope.  I’ve got my Muse back and at a time I needed Her most.  She will take care of me until that time comes when Happiness will finally dwell in my life.  But, for the meantime, I would just have to find comfort in coffee cups and with the poetry in all the things around me.

This is a toast to my new found life-force, the one that brought back the colors and vibrance of which I shall write about for days on end.  I shall name her Hope.  My Muse. 

…that is what I want to tell
myself right now.  I’ve been scolding myself and repeating over and
over that I should not read things that I know would hurt me.  And yet
still I did.  I checked out the friendster webpage of a guy that I
liked and checked his ex-gf’s page.  I just wanted to know how she
looked like.  And the more I found out about her and how she is like,
the more I felt insecure.  I mean, if I’m going to get this guy, how am
I going to measure up to his ex-gf whom I think got it all?  She is
beautiful, sings beautifully, a body of a sexy actress, and
popular…all the things that I am not.  And I even got a hint, by
reading her testimonials that she is still close with the guy’s family
despite the end of the relationship.  How could I measure up to all of
that?  And to think that this guy is popular too.  But it wasn’t that
side of him that got me piqued.  On one hand, he is the popular guy
everybody knows because of his great singing ability.  Very much well
know to both guys and girls.  He’s got a charm and that’s why many
girls seem so interested in him.  But this is not what got me piqued.
After having spent so much time with him, there were times that his
simplicity and sincerity just shined through I just can’t help but find
myself attracted to him.  With all of that qualities, he and his ex-gf
were just great together it seemed.  Perfect couple, as he once said
about his past relationship with the girl. 

I should not have gone to that
page.  And now I’m feeling ever so depressed again.  How I wished
things are different.  May be if I’m beautiful and all those things, I
wouldn’t find myself in this predicament. 

I have been telling myself over
and over not to fall because I’ve been in that kind of situation and I
know what would happen.  And yet here I am…falling again…

I’m torn between our friendship
and my seeming attraction to him.  He’s the closest friend I’ve got
now.  If I’m to lose this friendship with him just because I want to be
away from him so I won’t fall for him anymore, I’ll miss one of the
best friends I ever had.  If I just pretend that I’m not feeling this,
it’ll just grow more and more each passing day.  I know this already
because I’ve been in a situation like this before.  I’m heading towards
disaster.  My only hope is that I’ll find the right guy soon and veer me away from all these…

This heart is so foolish and
stupid.  Sometimes, I just wish I don’t have this heart.  Better be
heartless.  No more hurt or pain. 

Just seen an episode of The
Correspondents on Child Pornography in the Philippines.  I just felt so
shocked, angry, and sad all at the same time.  Shocked that there would
be sick people in the world who would prey upon the innocent just to
satisfy their sexual urges.  And even the thought of these people
having sexual thoughts about these children really makes me want to
puke.  I mean, what do they get out of it? These are children…most
have not started sexual development.  What makes me angry is that their
own parents pushed them to pose for pornography, for a minimal of
P10,000.  The Correspondents were able to catch the pimps and the
parents ushering the children to board a double-deck bus going to a
"photo shoot" in Los Banos, Laguna. NBI was actually monitoring this
particular operation so as to catch them on the act and arrest the
people behind it.  A Dutch man went in as NBI undercover agent and
pretended to be the foreign client.  Another lady undercover agent went
as the assistant of the foreigner.  The photo shoot was done in one of
the private resorts in Los Banos.  While the children were eating or
swimming in the pool, the pimps were already selecting the "cream of
the crop" for demo and video to show the foreign client.  The
photographer was Japanese but his crew were all Filipinos.  The pimps
and the selected children were interviewed.  The children were asked
what they can do and how far they would be willing to go.  They were
even asked to do several nude poses and even act out some activities
like taking a bath.  It was surprising how the young children reacted
to these requests.  They did it as if they expected it and were taught
how to do it.  After a while, the NBI came in and made the arrests.  It
was a terrible surprise for everyone, especially the photographers and,
worse, to the parents who, in the first place, allowed this
prostitution to take place.   So sick…I don’t know what kind of
humans are those who would peddle their own flesh and blood to these
pedophiles. Of the pedophiles, I’m somewhat reminded of the demons in
the movie, Constantine, those tireless, hungry monsters without brains
and all mouths and teeth…creatures ruled by their urges.  I do not
actually believe in a biblical hell, but if it does exist, I believe
those pedophiles should be first to go there.