One year later, and everyone is still out on a Halloween party.
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10/31/2007
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10/30/2007
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It's not nice sitting sideways. Two feet against the chair to your left, listening to what's being said in front. You insist on looking to your left and end up wondering endlessly.
It's a two-day school week, but there's nothing to be very comfy about. Today I was supposed to submit two screenplays and a midterm paper. Since I got comments (to make it easier to swallow) over the second flashback I used for my decision screenplay, I decided to do a third revision, which is going to be due next week. It may seem surreal to have, for example, Gaille read your scene descriptions as uninterestingly as one can, and Marcia forget when her cue is, but at least I can take it pretty positively. I realize why my cycle of images seem so wrong.
I got tangled up on the story. I always believed I have a story to tell, whatever the result may be. Most of the time I face this window clueless as to what to type, but eventually, after a million taps on the keyboard, I've made something decent and coherent. I always thought I'd have enough stories to tell everyone, although whether I'd be telling them is an entirely different matter. For the screenplay, however, only the ending was mine. I kept on insisting to the people who I discuss the project with - I never had a girlfriend, I never got beaten up, and I never beat up someone.
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It's a two-day school week, but there's nothing to be very comfy about. Today I was supposed to submit two screenplays and a midterm paper. Since I got comments (to make it easier to swallow) over the second flashback I used for my decision screenplay, I decided to do a third revision, which is going to be due next week. It may seem surreal to have, for example, Gaille read your scene descriptions as uninterestingly as one can, and Marcia forget when her cue is, but at least I can take it pretty positively. I realize why my cycle of images seem so wrong.
I got tangled up on the story. I always believed I have a story to tell, whatever the result may be. Most of the time I face this window clueless as to what to type, but eventually, after a million taps on the keyboard, I've made something decent and coherent. I always thought I'd have enough stories to tell everyone, although whether I'd be telling them is an entirely different matter. For the screenplay, however, only the ending was mine. I kept on insisting to the people who I discuss the project with - I never had a girlfriend, I never got beaten up, and I never beat up someone.
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10/28/2007
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Now Norman has left for San Diego, and Karla's coping well with the year-long distance, I wonder why, unlike everybody else, I haven't been crying.
Karla wrote something about his last day, for now at least, in the country. I've long known about his impending departure, and I've long known about how the two are trying to cope. That's why she left class earlier last Friday - so that she could spend more time with him, maybe in all those sentimental places, and eventually to the airport. I've long known about how hard this will be - to put it bluntly, if you're basically alone and the one you're with leaves you temporarily, it will affect you very much - and when I was reading the entry, I understood it even more. All those places that hold some meaning to the two, all of the terms the two throw at each other, and eventually, the plane, as it flew over the Pacific.
Yet I was the one who never got affected. No emotional connection, no immediate reaction, nothing at all. While everybody else claimed that they were crying in front of the monitor - blockmates, close friends, unlikely people - I could only give a token "sniff" in my reply.
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Karla wrote something about his last day, for now at least, in the country. I've long known about his impending departure, and I've long known about how the two are trying to cope. That's why she left class earlier last Friday - so that she could spend more time with him, maybe in all those sentimental places, and eventually to the airport. I've long known about how hard this will be - to put it bluntly, if you're basically alone and the one you're with leaves you temporarily, it will affect you very much - and when I was reading the entry, I understood it even more. All those places that hold some meaning to the two, all of the terms the two throw at each other, and eventually, the plane, as it flew over the Pacific.
Yet I was the one who never got affected. No emotional connection, no immediate reaction, nothing at all. While everybody else claimed that they were crying in front of the monitor - blockmates, close friends, unlikely people - I could only give a token "sniff" in my reply.
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10/27/2007
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The little thing Edsel, Fatzi and I recorded managed to turn my mood around. I was on the verge of bingeing over pasta, maybe sleep immediately afterwards, and die a silent death.
And to think I resisted laughing.
Some may say that my life is generally a joyless one. Something in my pair of eyeglasses makes things a little bit grim, a little bit bad for everybody. Could be my fault I can't see through it, that despite the best moments of my life one thing manages to outweigh all of them. I don't know what else will.
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And to think I resisted laughing.
Some may say that my life is generally a joyless one. Something in my pair of eyeglasses makes things a little bit grim, a little bit bad for everybody. Could be my fault I can't see through it, that despite the best moments of my life one thing manages to outweigh all of them. I don't know what else will.
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10/25/2007
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I've been in DLSU for three years, and within that time frame I have attended three screenplay readings. Among those three, I've been a bit reader for two. Things come out of it, whatever way you look at it. I may not have such a good voice for delivering lines with utmost conviction, but hey, I still get the perks.
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10/23/2007
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"I don't usually talk about this, but you know that feeling, right? It's just a crush, but either I fuss over it too much or too little."
"Yeah. When it's not supposed to be a big deal, but it feels like one."
"Or the other way around. I don't know why but I hate it."
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"Yeah. When it's not supposed to be a big deal, but it feels like one."
"Or the other way around. I don't know why but I hate it."
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10/22/2007
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"Yeah, I missed May too," I wrote. "That was my best month."
"Mine too," Lizette replied. "Met Marco that month."
By now I'm already used to hearing people extol the virtues of romance. Excessive idle time last Saturday exposed me to the reality that everyone, however unseeming it may be, would most definitely have a squeeze to call their own. You know, at first glance, the ones who don't and the ones who do, but there are the ones that mislead. There are the ones that manage to give you a false sense of hope, but somehow, you know that deep inside someone already has the price.
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"Mine too," Lizette replied. "Met Marco that month."
By now I'm already used to hearing people extol the virtues of romance. Excessive idle time last Saturday exposed me to the reality that everyone, however unseeming it may be, would most definitely have a squeeze to call their own. You know, at first glance, the ones who don't and the ones who do, but there are the ones that mislead. There are the ones that manage to give you a false sense of hope, but somehow, you know that deep inside someone already has the price.
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10/20/2007
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What follows were originally written this morning, on the bus going to Malolos, Bulacan, and this afternoon, on the bus back to Manila, as part of our field trip to meet and immerse with community journalists for journalism practices class.
Twenty-five past seven in the morning.
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Twenty-five past seven in the morning.
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10/16/2007
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Last night, Rozette and I talked about stuff, which is weird enough because, to be honest, for a person like me who loves conversations that are well-meant and well-received, I don't expect us to talk. That day she became one of the lucky few to get chocolates from Sir Doy (which is surprising, considering that he hasn't been out of the country for the two years I've been a CAM student). She was telling me about it, because the circumstances itself were funny to an extent. Makes for a good fifty-word story, I thought. If Sir Doy recognizes it's him I wrote about, it'd be funny.
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10/14/2007
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Let me pretend for a bit, I thought, and imagine that things are much better than what they really are.
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10/12/2007
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I am in love with a chocolate chip. In a day that's slow and sick, I had solace in a handful of chocolate chip cookies. I had a runny nose after chopping onions up, after laughing out so loud, after losing my sense of time... it's just weird today.
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10/10/2007
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Yes, Misha, I'm incurably positive. You wished us "great" luck last night. Now we're to resubmit our concept proposal.
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10/08/2007
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10/05/2007
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I'll just continue the last entry on calendars, but obviously I need to look back rather than look forward.
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10/01/2007
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I rarely talk about my schedule, but since first days are opportunities for new things, I'm going to do just that. But honestly, it's because I've been thinking about time management for the first time since I started college! Thank the teachers for thinking about teaching us that, along with Mang Jack's classroom appearances and our wide-eyed anticipation for the three-heart rule, but it never made sense until now.
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Niko Batallones writes The Upper Blog.
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