Hey, about this Monday...
Hey, about this Monday...
Look, I don't know if I can express how scared--no, TERRIFIED I am.
This is so important to me, in a way that's never happened to me
before. It matters to me SO MUCH that I pass UP. I worry that I
failed-- fuck, worry is too nice a word. It's more like I...gnaw on it
like a hungry rodent. I fear it. I fear failing. I worry that I
haven't worked enough, that I've been too distracted to worry. I worry
that things won't go my way, that I won't get what I want, that for
all my self-declared ESP I'm wrong, that I couldn't decide
objectively, that all those epiphanies are false hopes.
Sometimes I believe Paulo Coelho in The Alchemist. The universe gives
you what you want. Sometimes I disagree, I say that the universe works
against rather than with you. I say with rather than for because we
are far too small and insignificant for something like a universe to
work for us. That would be arrogant.
But back to the topic.
To tell you the truth, I'm so scared I could shit in my pants, and I'm
still trying to decide whether that's literal or figurative, because
the literal I can always put down to having eaten too much or something.
I'm fucking scared.
Terrified as shit.
So it's almost 3 in the morning on the first day of the new year. I
should either be asleep, or doing something completely unrelated to
being scared shitless.
(I apologize for the profanity.)
This matters so much to me, that I get into UP. I dunno how many times
I can say that before it becomes cliche, or you and I get tired of
reading it.
Here's another problem: what if I DO pass UP... but I don't get
Diliman? I have, instead, been accepted to Baguio? Do I consider that
a win-win situation?
No. Because practicality demands that I stay in Manila.
See, SEE, why this is so important?
It's not only the most practical choice, it's THE practical choice. I
want to go to UP like I want my next breath. I'm so fucking scared
that I won't be one of those lucky bastards who've got the dream:
dream college, dream course, dream everyfriggingthing.
Which is why I wrote this. Not even the fireworks were loud enough to
drown out the fear in my head.
So I'll post this when I wake up. C'mon, if you're as scared as I am,
tell me and let's be scared together. I don't want to be alone when I
check out that list on fucking Monday.
I am so scared. I'm terrified. I've got this roiling snake in my gut,
and I don't think it's happy where it is BECAUSE IT KEEPS FUCKING
MOVING.
I've lost count of the number of people who've told me that if it's
meant to be, it will happen.
Goddamn it, if it's not gonna be for me I will sure as hell go down
fighting.
Probably you're tired of my ranting. I don't care, you've got the
option to leave this page. But this is my form of cheap therapy, and
guess what? I'm good at it, so you can't stop me.
You know, I'm not all that scared of dying. I mean, I'll die when I'll
die, end of story.
What just escapes me at the moment is how I can be so blasé about
dying and so worked up over UP.
Possibly because death, like life, happens to everyone.
Frank Rowan would be absolutely livid with me.
Whatever.
Happy 2011, liebling.
~Sent from my iPod