aftereffects of... basta
i'm crying.
i'm crying inside; the tears are just fighting to leave my eyes but somehow my contacts are keeping them in, and meanwhile my heart can't find surcease from the dissolution of liquid sorrow.
i'm crying, because somehow i want to laugh at the stupidity of this world, the utter idiocy of the system, and most of all my damned idealism, my damned thinking that things ought to go right because the world is good and in proper working order.
and here i was just telling Ron that the world is a beautiful place. here i was, happy coming back from a "singles date" wherein Ron and I caught up with each other's lives and i surfieted myself from his wallet. here i was, thinking that the world, after all, is fine, what with that beautiful pale gold moon and all, and all the stars out, and the only problems i was thinking about were that i bought Kuya Edson double dutch ice cream instead of mango for his birthday, and that i'mlikely to have yet another issue pasted up on my name/reputation because i went out with Ron for dinner.
and then i had to have a little chat with the Eliazo guard, and she told me something i didn't need to know...
=FLASHBACK=
-One Week Ago-
i was running late for math class and i didn't want to be stopped by the guard. impatient with any delay, i grew even more irritated when i found that i couldn't find my ID. in a moment of harried desperation, i picked up joan's old ID from her corkboard and pinned it on. i'd planned on running to math, then getting a temporary ID during my 30-min break after it.
one and a half hours later, i was heading to ADSA to get a temp ID. passing by Gonzaga Chapel, i took off jo's ID and began to put it into my bag. a guard saw me and told me to put it back on. so i did, and i continued walking.
a few seconds later i was stopped by that guard. "miss, patingin ng ID ninyo," he says. i hand him jo's ID. "ikaw ba 'to?" he asks. i shrug noncommitantly and give a small smile. "kamukha ko ba, kuya?" i ask.
he pauses, thinks for a moment, consideres first the faded picture and then me. "oo. sa'yo nga 'tong ID na 'to," he says after a while. "pero kailangan mo pa ring mag-sign sa report kasi hindi updated."
he hands me the paper and i almost write down jo's details. it would be so easy to write her apology letter for her, even do her service hours for her, and it would be the end of the story. but then... i couldn't very well give her a violation by using her name, when she didn't even know that i had taken her ID.
so i wrote my own name down, and prepared to leave.
"miss, iba yung pangalan ninyo."
i get flustered. of course; i'd been caught, red-handed. i could have run. i could have made something up. i could have pleaded. but i knew i was well and truly caught and i couldn't just leave. my conscience, ornery creature that it is, just would not let me leave.
"miss, sumama po kayo sa'kin sa ADSA."
and i did. mute, numb, in shock, i followed him placidly and blankly handed two other IDs to the lady at the office (my MediCard and my SISC Alumna Card), who asked me, "do you know what you're in for?"
"no, ma'am."
"this is misrepresentation, a major disciplinary case. you might be in for suspension."
it took a while for things to sink in. and then... it hit me.
fuck.
"ma'am... um, my roommate has nothing to do with this..."
"we'll contact you if there will be a hearing."
FUCK!
me. a CERSA magistrate. miss-do-the-right-thing. with a major disciplinary case permanently on my record.
i go back to the dorm and spend the next hour crying to Ate A, Sir Tim, Sir Mon, and Ate Benna; my foster foster sis comforts me on her way out of the porter's booth; and i finally calm down enough to type a letter to Mr. Rene San Andres pleading guilty and requesting that my punishment be in terms of mandatory work instead of suspension, and exonerating joan.
i cut PE101 for the first time to submit that letter.
time for my life to turn upside-down: two hours.
=END FLASHBACK=
so just what did the guard tell me?
she said that she had accosted that guard stationed at Gonzaga, the one who had caught me, and asked him, "bakit mo naman hinuli yung alaga ko?"
and that guard had said, "hindi kasi siya nagpakiusap eh. sumama lang siya sa'kin basta sa ADSA."
now i don't know what to feel. i don't know what to be frustrated over.
is it:
(a) that i couldn't think up some excuse or story to save my ass in time (because apparently i could still have gotten off scot-free), or even did the whole magpa-cute effect that always worked so well before, or
(b) that someone should insinuate that if i had done such a thing, if my conscience hadn't kicked in when it did, then i wouldn't be in such deep shit?
why is it that it appears that if only i didn't have a conscience, everything would be all right? that if i hadn't felt guilty for doing something wrong, if i had denied it, i would be forgiven?
why do i have to get such a bad rap for doing the right thing?
---
two hours of living a lie, just for acads' sake. that was it; and then i'd have turned myself in anyway. while Mr. Andretti prances around making a game of never wearing his ID, dodging the guards, and bragging about it. whereas i once went around for three weeks wearing Pong's ID instead of my own (i had mine in my bag, i was just testing) and nobody complained.
whereas i spent an entire week with just a temp ID stuck in my pants pocket, never visible, and even though i literally brushed elbows with the guards they never once asked to see my identification.
all i'm asking for is consistency. if they're going to catch people, they ought to catch them all the time. and if they won't, they'd better not catch anyone at all. goddamned bastards.
and in the end, the question remains: i know i did wrong, and i willingly accept the consequences of my actions, but what makes it okay that even someone who obviously did wrong can be forgiven for a little palusot? i know this is a Jesuit university and all, so maybe it's forgive seventy times seven times and all that, but if they hate dishonesty so much shouldn't the practice of palusot be cracked down on even more strongly?
corruption, even in the lowest levels.
why did i ever think society could have a liiiitle bit of hope left for it?
***
RANDOM THOUGHT: i gave "him" chocolates yesterday. someone had sent a frilly pink mystery parcel before i did, so it wasn't much of a surprise or whatever... it certainly didn't have the effect i intended, but as i expected, the reaction was simply, "oh, okay, thanks." may pahabol na "the other thing, did it come from you too? ...no? dammit."
sana lang may ibig sabihin 'yun, 'di ba. divine says i was completely red for a couple of hours after that.
but whereas i may have given chocolates, as expected, this year i got nothing for singles awareness, este valentines day...
(i was a little amused when i met Mac^100 walking by the triangle leg going to Berch yesterday evening and he asked me to "put my hand on his chin and see if he's hot". i thought it was a joke. apparently, i was supposed to check if he had a fever, but it was the stupidest thing i had ever heard.)
and by the way - Cold Shoulder has grown warmer. :D
***
you know what? ...blogging really does make me feel better.
i'm crying inside; the tears are just fighting to leave my eyes but somehow my contacts are keeping them in, and meanwhile my heart can't find surcease from the dissolution of liquid sorrow.
i'm crying, because somehow i want to laugh at the stupidity of this world, the utter idiocy of the system, and most of all my damned idealism, my damned thinking that things ought to go right because the world is good and in proper working order.
and here i was just telling Ron that the world is a beautiful place. here i was, happy coming back from a "singles date" wherein Ron and I caught up with each other's lives and i surfieted myself from his wallet. here i was, thinking that the world, after all, is fine, what with that beautiful pale gold moon and all, and all the stars out, and the only problems i was thinking about were that i bought Kuya Edson double dutch ice cream instead of mango for his birthday, and that i'mlikely to have yet another issue pasted up on my name/reputation because i went out with Ron for dinner.
and then i had to have a little chat with the Eliazo guard, and she told me something i didn't need to know...
=FLASHBACK=
-One Week Ago-
i was running late for math class and i didn't want to be stopped by the guard. impatient with any delay, i grew even more irritated when i found that i couldn't find my ID. in a moment of harried desperation, i picked up joan's old ID from her corkboard and pinned it on. i'd planned on running to math, then getting a temporary ID during my 30-min break after it.
one and a half hours later, i was heading to ADSA to get a temp ID. passing by Gonzaga Chapel, i took off jo's ID and began to put it into my bag. a guard saw me and told me to put it back on. so i did, and i continued walking.
a few seconds later i was stopped by that guard. "miss, patingin ng ID ninyo," he says. i hand him jo's ID. "ikaw ba 'to?" he asks. i shrug noncommitantly and give a small smile. "kamukha ko ba, kuya?" i ask.
he pauses, thinks for a moment, consideres first the faded picture and then me. "oo. sa'yo nga 'tong ID na 'to," he says after a while. "pero kailangan mo pa ring mag-sign sa report kasi hindi updated."
he hands me the paper and i almost write down jo's details. it would be so easy to write her apology letter for her, even do her service hours for her, and it would be the end of the story. but then... i couldn't very well give her a violation by using her name, when she didn't even know that i had taken her ID.
so i wrote my own name down, and prepared to leave.
"miss, iba yung pangalan ninyo."
i get flustered. of course; i'd been caught, red-handed. i could have run. i could have made something up. i could have pleaded. but i knew i was well and truly caught and i couldn't just leave. my conscience, ornery creature that it is, just would not let me leave.
"miss, sumama po kayo sa'kin sa ADSA."
and i did. mute, numb, in shock, i followed him placidly and blankly handed two other IDs to the lady at the office (my MediCard and my SISC Alumna Card), who asked me, "do you know what you're in for?"
"no, ma'am."
"this is misrepresentation, a major disciplinary case. you might be in for suspension."
it took a while for things to sink in. and then... it hit me.
fuck.
"ma'am... um, my roommate has nothing to do with this..."
"we'll contact you if there will be a hearing."
FUCK!
me. a CERSA magistrate. miss-do-the-right-thing. with a major disciplinary case permanently on my record.
i go back to the dorm and spend the next hour crying to Ate A, Sir Tim, Sir Mon, and Ate Benna; my foster foster sis comforts me on her way out of the porter's booth; and i finally calm down enough to type a letter to Mr. Rene San Andres pleading guilty and requesting that my punishment be in terms of mandatory work instead of suspension, and exonerating joan.
i cut PE101 for the first time to submit that letter.
time for my life to turn upside-down: two hours.
=END FLASHBACK=
so just what did the guard tell me?
she said that she had accosted that guard stationed at Gonzaga, the one who had caught me, and asked him, "bakit mo naman hinuli yung alaga ko?"
and that guard had said, "hindi kasi siya nagpakiusap eh. sumama lang siya sa'kin basta sa ADSA."
now i don't know what to feel. i don't know what to be frustrated over.
is it:
(a) that i couldn't think up some excuse or story to save my ass in time (because apparently i could still have gotten off scot-free), or even did the whole magpa-cute effect that always worked so well before, or
(b) that someone should insinuate that if i had done such a thing, if my conscience hadn't kicked in when it did, then i wouldn't be in such deep shit?
why is it that it appears that if only i didn't have a conscience, everything would be all right? that if i hadn't felt guilty for doing something wrong, if i had denied it, i would be forgiven?
why do i have to get such a bad rap for doing the right thing?
---
two hours of living a lie, just for acads' sake. that was it; and then i'd have turned myself in anyway. while Mr. Andretti prances around making a game of never wearing his ID, dodging the guards, and bragging about it. whereas i once went around for three weeks wearing Pong's ID instead of my own (i had mine in my bag, i was just testing) and nobody complained.
whereas i spent an entire week with just a temp ID stuck in my pants pocket, never visible, and even though i literally brushed elbows with the guards they never once asked to see my identification.
all i'm asking for is consistency. if they're going to catch people, they ought to catch them all the time. and if they won't, they'd better not catch anyone at all. goddamned bastards.
and in the end, the question remains: i know i did wrong, and i willingly accept the consequences of my actions, but what makes it okay that even someone who obviously did wrong can be forgiven for a little palusot? i know this is a Jesuit university and all, so maybe it's forgive seventy times seven times and all that, but if they hate dishonesty so much shouldn't the practice of palusot be cracked down on even more strongly?
corruption, even in the lowest levels.
why did i ever think society could have a liiiitle bit of hope left for it?
***
RANDOM THOUGHT: i gave "him" chocolates yesterday. someone had sent a frilly pink mystery parcel before i did, so it wasn't much of a surprise or whatever... it certainly didn't have the effect i intended, but as i expected, the reaction was simply, "oh, okay, thanks." may pahabol na "the other thing, did it come from you too? ...no? dammit."
sana lang may ibig sabihin 'yun, 'di ba. divine says i was completely red for a couple of hours after that.
but whereas i may have given chocolates, as expected, this year i got nothing for singles awareness, este valentines day...
(i was a little amused when i met Mac^100 walking by the triangle leg going to Berch yesterday evening and he asked me to "put my hand on his chin and see if he's hot". i thought it was a joke. apparently, i was supposed to check if he had a fever, but it was the stupidest thing i had ever heard.)
and by the way - Cold Shoulder has grown warmer. :D
***
you know what? ...blogging really does make me feel better.