A Poem for the Plushy fan

Know by heart I’m always here
Evry moment we hold dear
Night and day – I swear to thee
This guy is there in times of need.
Apart from my rather clumsy self
Know that I am here to help
In times of joy, or saddening strife
In season or not, I’ll arrive with a smile.

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Author’s Update:

 

Finally I enroll for one more semester in College before heading off to New Jersey in the summer. After a very complicated First Semester, having failed Physical Chemistry on my first take on the subject, I was not able to take up most of my majors (aside from my thesis subject, which I am bound to finish before leaving), and now I am left with taking up two Literature classes, a Technical Writing Class and Physics (which I am taking up with Geology majors. OTL)

 

In my four years of staying in college, I finally got the chance to have one of my ‘lightest’ class load for this semester – 13 units, with a 6 unit sit-in, it is definitely a free T/TH morning for me this November to April. Now, I am more relieved to pursue my thesis and my experimental methodology, and attempt to finish it before the semester ends.

As much as I want to continue blogging and attend to this, while doing all the other stuff I am supposed to, I decided to take a leave from my blog for a while, refine my craft and how I write my content, and get back here with more interesting stories that I could share to all of you. I just happened to backread my content and see that most of the time, my entries are more of the ‘feels’, and ranting, and I seem to forget how to be more comfortable with how I am as a writer.

Nevertheless, I am sure to return, as I’ve always had. Or so to say, I have always been here, since I never really did leave.

Blog to you soon, everyone!

Who’s Crazy Now?

I was fond of leaving the house, and catching up to my mother’s Hemodialysis Session late at night – usually around 9:30 to 10:30 in the evening, just late enough so I can free myself of the long sitting time inside the jeep because of the Friday traffic. Also, leaving the house late at night makes me feel at ease, because whenever I look outside the jeepney window, the cool evening breeze calms me down, and sets me off into a ‘meditative’ trance while travelling to Roxas Blvd.

This time is actually no different from the previous nightly travels that I have taken. But somehow, thisjeepney that I was in, had somehow made  ponder on so much, before I went to sleep that day (so much for being so worriesome, huh?).

It was around 10 o’clock when I got to the jeepney stop, and I happen to call a jeepney to ride on. I was the third passenger on the jeepney – the first one, being the passenger beside the driver, and a guy who sat  not too far from where I was. The Air Supply tracks was definitely on a high volume (making me shout out where I was going to alight), but it didn’t matter to me much, as I as enjoying the songs being played.

As the jeepney stopped near the old Sta Ana church, an old woman, carrying a big shoulder bag rode the jeep, and sat at the seat infront of me. She looked very tired, and surprisingly, she was murmuring things to herself, and some of it, I cannot clearly understand. She seemed very hungry, as she was handing out her hand towards me (seeing that  I was eating a pack of biscuits). I gave her another pack, and she started munching on the Skyflakes that I gave her. A sudden rush of emotions came to me, as I glanced at her, and questions like that came into my mind: “Where’s her family now?” “Where is she going?” “Is she really crazy, or mentally ill?” but then, out of pity, I looked away, pretended not to be overly concerned at her condition, and drifted off with my random thoughts.

Not too far away, a group of teenagers rode the jeep. If I am not mistaken, there were 5 of them, not far from my age (but definitely younger than me). They were so rowdy inside the jeepney, shouting, laughing, and cussing each other, as if carrying no burden at all. The smell of alcohol reeked inside the jeepney, and really, it would definitely piss me off. What was more irritating, was how they kept looking at the old lady with disgust. Sneering and whispering (though, they weren’t really whispering) that she was insane, as she kept talking to herself and pretending to be looking for something inside her bag.

But deep inside, with how they were even acting out, could I even consider them as the sane ones? After how they seem to be pretty much enjoy being carefree and aloft with their own surroundings? The ones who are expected to think, and live upright lives spend their living bodies in a degrading way?