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| Saturday, August 30, 2008 |
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sweet vengeance
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"Why do the wicked prosper?" laments the prophet.
Why, indeed? Now I know what it means. Although Jeremiah dealt with so much more than what I'm going through right now, I now understand the principle that makes him cry out such words.
To be denied justice and to see the unrighteous violate the law with impunity grates on one's sense of right and wrong. I know that justice and judgment belong to God and it is for Him to repay the transgressions against His law, after all first and foremost the sin is committed against Him and there could be nothing more foul in His sight, but it's so hard to struggle against the temptation of taking justice into one's own hands... of fighting back... of getting even...
I want it so bad every time I remember what they did. I could probably take it if they did that to me. I would probably just wallow in self-pity and take all the hurt in. That would be so much better than letting it all out and lashing out in the process. It'd be okay if it was just me, but never the people who are dear to me. Never.
I admit that I have always had a vengeful spirit, even when I was a child. It was a perfect complement to my quicksilver temperament and burning rage. Now, that spirit threatens to resurface and overpower me again.
I want to destroy them... To make them regret every single thing they did. I want to take away and crush every good thing that they enjoy and make them wish they had never done what they had done... I could destroy their lives if I put my mind to it.... A few connections here and there and letting the right people know... Especially with the gravity of what they did...
The only thing that holds me back is the very same sense of right and wrong that they've offended. I still fear God. And I pray that He may preserve me and keep me from staining my hands.
But if I snap, I give fair warning. I pray that day does not come.Labels: ragings |
posted by remrick @ 9:01 PM  |
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| Saturday, July 26, 2008 |
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sa(l)vaged memories
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It has been months, but the wounds remain fresh.
It is astounding how a sinful act could have such unintended, far-reaching and damaging consequences. Memories, relationships, and persons - all have been brought to the brink of ruin. The gravity and seriousness of sin is a hard lesson, indeed. And I am afraid it is one which I have yet to personally learn.
Everything just collapsed. Even the few memories I have tried salvaging have gone sour. It's as if they've been tainted. Like people maimed and deformed by an accident. Like the rotting remains of a thing once alive. A thing once so full of life. A thing, which not so long ago, shared my own life too.
I say goodbye to the East Wing 2 I once so fondly knew. The East Wing 2 I tried to build up and invested myself in. I wish to believe that all my efforts have not gone to waste. But the taint makes me want to retch. It stings my eyes. It tears at my chest. And the tears fall silently.
That year is lost now.
But I will cling to the memories of my first and now, last, year in this corridor. I pray that the time will come when I will remember but will no longer hurt. When there will be no more pain laced with the memories.
For most of them who are in the dark, they don't know how lucky they are. Let them cherish the fond memories, the sweet moments and the friendships they have built. Even if some of those may have been built on falsehood and deception. But for the very few of us who do know the truth, it is a burden that we must bear. A burden I thought I could escape from. A burden I thought I could relieve by getting back at him. A burden, which in truth, is something I must learn to accept.
Pain purifies. I know this all too well. On hindsight, a degree of maturity came after the painful experiences before. This time, by grace, I look forward to something good coming out of all this. I look forward to the time when I can remember without hurting.
I just need to be faithful. I just need to hang on.Labels: inside the self, ragings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 7:38 AM |
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| Saturday, July 19, 2008 |
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brother
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I was about to post this entry:
" I gotta breathe this out.
I can no longer carry your burden for you. I've got enough of my own right now. I have my limits, too.
Until now, I still have doubts on whether you truly are (or were) a 'brother' to begin with. I want to believe you. Maybe because the alternative is much more painful: that we've all been fooled, completely deceived, even until now.
I never saw through you. You were much too guarded. Too withdrawn. Mysterious.
You and I are not so different after all.
But I was a failure with you.
As of now, this is the best I can do. But please, don't give me even the slightest excuse to doubt your repentance because I might not be able to control myself anymore. I just might take things into my own hand.
Believe me, there are many ways that I can make you regret everything. The right people just need to know the truth. And they do deserve it. It is only the fear of God and of ruining your life that holds me back.
What would your new fraternity do if they found out? How would your church react if it became public? I think of the shock and pain that it might cause the people around you: your dormmates, your friends... Will they still be able to look at you the same way? And your family... How would they take it?
I think of the person who molested you when you were a child. In a way, he has succeeded. In a way, you've done the very things he did. You have no idea of the consequences, or of the burden we bear. You've ruined people and relationships.
In the same way he ruined you. For your sake, I will not add to that. I will not let be like him. Even if you and I are not so different at all.
Repent, please. And may that repentance be true. Your leader and your church may coddle you, but I certainly won't. Make no mistake about it.
Farewell, 'brother.' "
But I thank God for setting me right. Forgive me, Lord. To love beyond one's limits, even those who are the cause of so much pain - that is what you have called me to. Teach me and uphold me by your grace.
Please be patient with me. I know I keep stumbling every other step of the way but bear with me and continue to pick me up again and again... until I learn to walk in your footsteps.Labels: inside the self, ragings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 4:55 PM |
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| Saturday, July 12, 2008 |
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magna cum laudes and markets
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In a recent forum on fiscal behavior, talking about the threats to the Philippine economy and the government's goal of a balanced budget, Prof. Felipe Medalla had this to say to the speaker and discussants:
"If our magna cum laudes get ony two or three job offers.. THAT is an indication that the job market is weak!"
Nice one, sir. But I still can't get over the grade you gave me in public finance, though.Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 3:26 AM |
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| Saturday, June 28, 2008 |
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I hate Globe..
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I expected better from an Ayala-owned corporation.. Grrr...
The text messages are delayed and sometimes they never get received at all.. And at times, it takes hours to register for texting services like unlitxt.. and the telcos keep on bragging that texting services like these effectively make sms rates in the country one of the lowest in the world! Ha! Why don't they just bring down the standard rates? Rather than make consumers register for these services, which, at times is virtually impossible...Labels: ragings, rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 11:22 AM |
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| Tuesday, June 03, 2008 |
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dormless
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*Scream!*Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 12:18 PM |
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| Thursday, May 15, 2008 |
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hazard
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May 9, 2008
It's always like this.
The people around me always end up getting hurt. Relationships always get messed up. Why?
I can't seem to do anything right.
Ginugulo ko lang buhay ng mga tao.
Maybe that's why I've always preferred to be alone. I'm a hazard. Perhaps I was never meant to be happy with the people I car for. I guess I've come to accept that.
But I have yet to be truly broken. Only then can I be made anew.
Until then, I am alone.
I need to and will always be.Labels: inside the self, ragings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 4:45 PM |
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| Monday, March 24, 2008 |
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Truth
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The silence stares at us...
Questioning. Waiting. As if straining to hear...
Bated breaths coming in reply.
The three of us stare back. Lost. Blank stares of our own. Swallowed by the night. Slinking into shadows.
Just when the answers started coming.
Just then...
I walk up the stairs; struggling for every scrap of dignity. Steadying my steps. My head floating. My chest about to burst. Butterflies gone wild in my stomach.
I try to stare back at every eye that meets my own.
Searching for answers in faces full of questions.
So many questions...
I think it's time I commit myself to really pray for someone. Make that a few people. They need it. God knows they do. I need to bring them There. So hard it should come like breathing.
So hard...Labels: inside the self, ragings, the walk |
| posted by remrick @ 2:09 PM |
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Illusion
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I need to talk to you.
I just don't know how.
Please tell me you weren't the one who said - and did - all those things.
How much is truth and just how much are lies? Was it all pretensions from the very beginning?
Damn you. I considered you as a brother. I felt for you. I prayed for you.
I feel so betrayed. So is this how it feels, huh?
How could you do it? Why?
Just who are you?
I don't even know you anymore.
My true brothers in the faith don't even have the slightest hint... Along with my friends - our friends. All of us have been deceived...
You've been pretty damn good at it. Who would've thought?
Damn. I wish I could cry for you right now. But the tears won't come. Not even for the person I once thought you were...
He's gone now. Maybe he never really existed, in the first place...Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 1:40 PM |
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| Wednesday, February 20, 2008 |
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letter to a “friend”
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I'm sick of this silence.
This time, I refuse to keep mum in the face of people who think that they know me, you or our relationship. Frankly, I’m tired of putting up with them even if some of them are Christians, too.
Do they think that by hearing just one side of the story and seeing your tears they know enough about “me” and “us”? It hurts me too, you know… even just the seemingly plain teasing and careless comments, especially coming from my own sisters in the faith.
I’m sorry to say this, but I believe that this story has long been one-sided. But just because you’re the girl in this situation doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re the victim here and that you’re the only one who’s suffering.
I thank you for your forgiveness. God knows I’ve made so many mistakes and must have caused so much hurt. I want you to know that I’m not holding anything against you, but please don’t expect our relationship to ever be the same again. This is what you want, then so be it. I’m thankful that you finally took the initiative to do what I could not do – to finally end it and take the path of avoidance. Perhaps, this is best.
To set things straight, it wasn’t I who changed. We were friends since we were freshmen in high school. It was your feelings, however, that eventually got in the way of our friendship. When I found out about how you felt about me, I was faced with tough choices: to avoid you and end our friendship, or to keep it and treat you like the way I’ve always treated the rest of our barkada. It was hard for me, too. It still is even now. I chose the latter because I didn’t want to hurt you, even though you knew it would inevitably end up there because you knew I had feelings for someone else.
I’ve always treated you the same way I did back then. I didn’t want anything to change between us, but you became much more sensitive and started feeling hurt. What was I to do? Avoid you? If I had treated you differently, wouldn’t that have only given you false hope? Wouldn’t that have been far crueler?
Years have passed and here we are now in UP. Nothing’s changed with how I relate to you, but you kept on hurting and took offense at the things I said and did. I’m sorry if I failed to act the way you wanted me to act towards you, and to be what you wanted me to be for you.
You were the one who changed. The moment you started seeing me as more than just a friend, our friendship started to unravel. Things got complicated… and this is where we are now. I’ve tried to keep the friendship but everything has changed and it can’t be brought back to how they were before. It seems that it’s better off this way.
So this is it. This is what you want, right? I’ll keep the distance. I’ll give you your space. I don’t really care about how others might react. I don’t care if the people at church and if your ates there will tend to see me as the source of your problems.
I now have your forgiveness, and now it’s time to move on. We both need closure. I’m still your brother in Christ, but the “friend” you knew has died to himself.
And this is his goodbye.Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 1:47 PM |
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| Wednesday, December 26, 2007 |
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Cold silence
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Nothing burns like ice.
I’m in another one of my anti-social moods again.
Apart from common courtesies and the customary greetings and replies, the messages I receive rarely go answered – unless it’s absolutely needed or considered rude not to reply. You’d be wasting your pesos if you try to hear from me or ask me how I’m doing. No, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I’d rather brood and be alone. I even intend on (discreetly) avoiding my high school friends and the big events planned by my schoolmates for this Christmas break.
And the ill temper – something which all four of us siblings seem to share in varying forms and degrees, yes, but still the very same quicksilver temper – is clawing its way back again.
It never really does get cold here in Surigao. The temperatures drop because of the now daily but still unpredictable rains, but the winds themselves remain warm. They never grow cold.
But I have never been colder. And how it burns.Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 3:11 PM |
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| Saturday, November 24, 2007 |
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addiction
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Ugh. I can't help it. I'm hopelessly hooked. I just can't help myself.
My body aches for the feeling - for the sheer rush and thrill of it. Every time I indulge myself, I feel so high... so free... Sometimes I feel like I'm pushing it too far, paying no heed to limits, abusing my own body.
Am I beyond help? Is it too late for me? Will I never be able to keep myself from doing it over and over again, day in and day out? Will I never be able to stop myself from...
...jogging?Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 3:20 PM |
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| Sunday, September 23, 2007 |
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The Sweet Taste of Victory
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And the winners...
 Yakal RETROspect: Reliving the Past with Pizzazz (Yakal Open House 2007-2008)
Champions all!
I'm proud of you guys... I thank God for the great time and the blessings we've shared.
Go East Wing 2!
Ikalawang Silangang Pakpak - Laban!
Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 12:36 PM |
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| Sunday, May 20, 2007 |
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cranky
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Man, this sucks.
I feel all rotten inside.
I'm tired. I'm feel like I'm coming down with a fever or something. And my mind's messed up with worries and what-have-you's .
Sheesh, and I have an exam on Monday. My ship leaves later that night. I have tons of things to pack up for storage and travel. And I don't even know if I'll still have a dorm to return to next semester.
Yeah, right Rem.
Oh, just put a sock in it.Labels: ragings, rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 2:07 AM |
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| Friday, May 18, 2007 |
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anxious again
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Ugh.
So many worries and concerns are starting to eat me up again.
Should I be troubled? Should I indulge my anxious self again?
After Monday things will start to get better.
I hope.Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 5:18 PM |
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| Thursday, April 12, 2007 |
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Temper
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If words could kill, then the 'geniuses' behind the new Computerized Registration System (CRS) and the UPD admin would most probably be dead - thousands of times over, by now.
I just learned earlier today that they decided to have a purely computerized enlistment process, where all we had to do was log on to the new CRS website and enlist in our subjects realtime. It seemed simple enough, and we thought it meant goodbye to the endless lines during the cumbersome manual enlistment process. But we were dead wrong. It turned out to be worse - far worse.
You should see the loooong line snaking away from the computer center, and the hordes of harassed students crowding in the internet cafes at the Shopping Center. After hours of trying to access the site, and I'm still here, I still haven't been able to enlist in a single class.
I'm sick and tired of all this. I've been waiting for hours, wasting money, and being unproductive for most of the day, only to be frustrated over and over again. All the people I've encountered have nothing good to say about the new system, some have quite a few nasty things to say to those who are behind all this, and others are content to grumble a litany of juicy expletives. And personally, I find it hard trying to restrain myself from committing mental murder.
*Sigh* It's been a long time since I found it so hard to control my temper. Sometimes, it seems so good to let it all out and just lash out in a rage... The hateful thoughts that used to make me wear a scowl on my face, snap at anyone who gets on my nerves, and bang things around are the same ones that are trying to get into my head right now.
Is the system malfunctioning or is it just plain ineffective? Didn't anybody ever think that the sheer number of students would clog the networks and bog down the system? And besides, not everyone has access to a computer and the internet. What were they thinking? Did they ever think about it in the first place? This is insane. Such utter.... unreasonableness escapes me. And to think that they're running a university? Ha.
I've heard of someone saying she prefers the old manual enlistment process to the current one, because at least in the former, you got things done and saw some results after all those long lines. Now, all we get is this irritating response:
Grrr...Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 3:44 PM |
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| Thursday, January 18, 2007 |
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Battered and beaten…
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January 16, 2007 1:02 am
Congratulate me… I’ve had another rough day. Yippee. I’m dripping with sarcasm. As of the moment, I’m beat. My right hand and fingers are hurting, and my eyes can’t make out faraway objects. That’s what you get from writing down study guides in three subjects (which I still haven’t finished), and spending most of the evening reading up to your nose. As if the mental torture of the day past wasn’t enough. Sheesh. It started with our quiz in Mathematical Economics. And oh boy, did I mess that one up. It was my fault, really. I completely forgot about the first topics of the quiz’s coverage. Those were like, so last year. I didn’t even know they were going to be included in the quiz. So I wasn’t able to review them. So my mind went blank. So there goes about a third of my score, too. Blank. There you have it: how I totally butchered that test. That’s strike one. Oooh, I can almost picture Ma’am Navarro’s stern face, breaking into a mixture of devilish delight and strong disapproval as she frowns/smirks over my paper and my pitiful results… Just joking. That was just my imagination talking. Then I met a couple of Koreans at the Sunken Garden as I was on my way to CAL. I think they were also the ones that had stopped me on my way to Econ before, because they told me, “Do you have time now?” It was still 3:15, we were dismissed early in my Econ 191 class, and my next class was at 4 pm, so I had no excuse. Besides, I don’t lie to people anymore, especially since they looked like they needed help. So that’s how I met Jean (guy) and Mi (girl). We sat on the grass, and Jean took out some sort of album and starts asking me questions about God. At first, I thought they were some sort of Christian missionaries or something. Jean showed me diagrams of God and humans, and pairs of creatures. Then he asked me if I believe in “Father God.” I said yes, of course. Then he asked a question that bowled me over and almost sent me rolling the down the slope. “Do you know the Kata Mata (I don’t know if I’m spelling this right)? The Holy Mother of Heaven?” he said. Holy Mother of – what?! It turns out that they believe in a divine family where there are two supreme deities: one is male and the other is female. Jean then showed me Bible verses, which purportedly supports their belief that God has a ‘wife.’ From the “bride” in Revelation to quotes from Genesis: “Let us make man in our own image… male and female he made them,” among others. It was so weird. And every time I try to explain to them, from a Christian point of view, of how those verses should be interpreted, Jean would say “Oh no, don’t think. This come from God. This what God says,” which was of course, illogical for him to say. He was in fact, telling me to take their word for it that these verses mean what they wanted them to mean, claiming it to be “what God says,” and telling me not to interpret in any other way. By the way, Jean did almost all the talking. Mi just played the supporting role, and kept on nodding and smiling. Finally they asked for my name, address and phone number. I was having second thoughts because after all they were virtually strangers, and it was personal info they were asking for. But again, I didn’t want to lie. So they told me they’d contact me o Wednesday and that I should think about it. Oh great. Just great. It was one freaky experience, but maybe God has His reasons. It could be an opportunity to share the Gospel with them, God-willing. Just one thing: Next time, be ready with your Bible Rem. Anyway, that was strike number two. The last round of the series of unfortunate events came from my Spanish class. Actually, Ma’am Villar spent almost all of the time criticizing our dialogos and telling us how disappointing we were. Towards the end of the period (she must have noticed we were running out of time), she gave us our first exam results and preliminary grades. My score in the exam? 49/70. Do I hear cheering and applause? Never mind. And how about my preliminary grade? A whopping 2.0 (88.9, to be exact), the same grade as my dialogo. To get a 1.0, I need to be in the 98-100 range. A 3.0 would be between 74 and 77, if I remember right. And a 93 would just give me 1.5. Imagine that? Who says UP professors have such high standards? I’ve never a professor that more generous in giving grades than Ma’am Villar. For that, she deserves the Gawad Chancellor for Outstanding Faculty Member. Asar. If that wasn’t depressing, I don’t know what is. And that’s strike three for me. I’m out. 2:32 am … but still standing Considering all that I’ve been through, it’s a wonder how I haven’t slept it all off and that I’m still wide awake at this hour. Blame the coffee and the chocolates. When confronted with such stressful and depressing circumstances, what does one do? To whom does one turn to? My answer: food. Yeah, good ‘ol comfort food. I bought myself cans of ice coffee (even if considerable amounts tend to send my tummy tumbling), bars of chocolate (even if lots of it give a headache and aggravate my bouts of migraine), and took out food from Mcdo (even fastfood fare is unhealthy). And I had already had dinner, at that. You could just imagine my depression-driven appetite. Or the sheer elasticity of my stomach. And, in fairness, they worked. I’m not depressed anymore, just a bit… out of sync. And, so far, there are none of the usual caffeine-cocoa-cholesterol side effects. And it’s better to eat while studying so you don’t get bored and tired easily. But there’s one unanticipated side effect, though – now, I can’t sleep. By now, it’s almost 3 am and I’m still all perked up. And all the while I thought I had already grown immune from the effects of caffeine… Well, maybe if I try to get some sleep, I’ll make some progress. I just hope I don’t end up twisting and turning all night, instead. Labels: ragings, rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 2:32 PM |
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| Friday, July 21, 2006 |
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(My) Crimes Against the Self
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My blog has gone comatose. It's dying. Not because I wanted it to, but because present circumstances leave me no other option. I'm just being practical here. It's just a matter of priorities, really. And academics always come first. Unfortunately, acad stuff has been eating up a huge amount of my time. Heck, with all the homework, exercises, and papers I have to do, I barely have time to write for myself. So here I am; stuck with a blog that's dying of neglect and is in dire need of extreme unction. But I just can't let it go like that. It needs to be saved. Whoever said that "the world doesn't need a savior?" Ah, screw Lois Lane in Superman Returns. Everyone needs a savior, if only as a figure of hope at least. We all need help some time, that's why we even bother to live together in society. That's why we have family, friends and loved ones to stick with us through thick and thin. And right now, my blog needs help. Or, maybe it could just be me. So, I' coming up with this last-ditch attempt to resuscitate some life back into my blog. I'm publishing a series of long-overdue posts that I haven't been able to find time for, until now. I know, they're not exactly fresh. They're dated. But it's the best I can come up with at present. A guy's gotta work within his limits. And oh, there are those times when no savior shows up to help. Times when Superman can't come to the rescue for one reason or another. Times when we have to face things on our own (though it doesn't necessarily mean we're alone). Although it's nice to hope on someone, we have to come to terms with the fact that that someone won't always be there for us to hope on forever. Then we realize that the only savior we have is ourselves.
8:38 pm - July 20, 2006 Will somebody please close down the coop store?
I stop and pause to think. And I can't help but sigh. I guess the day's events have just been too crushing for me. I'm in state of shock. I've been sitting around staring at empty space, until I finally managed to make myself grab a pen and start scribbling something down. Argh. And right now, somebody's flooding my mobile's inbox with the same old stupid message. People can become such pests sometimes. I started the day with only 5 hours of precious sleep. OurMicroeconomics-exercise-sets-from-hell had to be submitted today. Then I had to sit through yet another meeting in my Fil40 class under Prof. Fabros. The guy makes sense; it's just that he tries too hard to be funny. And it gets on my nerves sometiomes. Totally irritating, completely annoying. In the aftrenoon, we had a quiz in Macroeconomics . It was okay. But I couldn't help but get the feeling that my answers both in the essays and computations weren't satisfactory enough to merit a high grade. After that, it was a long exam in Statistics. Again, it was okay. But I totally blundered my answer in one of the problems, so I most probably won't be getting an A in that one too. Sheesh. And just when I thougt I had enough for the day... Suprise, surprise... I was wrong, of course... Yes, it wass -bleep- (again). Apparently, -bleep- and someone else.
I saw them at the cooperative store (I am never going to do my grocery shopping there gain). You see, they were together, and... You do get the point, don't you? Ugh. I don't even wanna describe it. I could have sworn a horde of ants would have pounced on them any moment. I saw the world collapse around me, right and then there (I exaggerate, of course. But by how much, I leave that up to you to guess). And all I could say to myself was. . . Ouch.
July 14, 2006 -Bleep-
Before you brand me as an emotional masochist, I’m going to jump the gun on you.
I know I’m a fool. I’m stupid, and it’s just so pathetic of me.
I thought I was finally starting to get over it.
I thought I had come to let go and accept that maybe we just weren’t meant to be…
that -bleep- was just out of my reach, and perhaps, would always be.
I thought I was slowly getting -bleep- out of my system and that maybe, it was time to move on and start looking for someone else.
Apparently, I thought wrong.
Heck, I ask myself if I even actually “think” anymore.
Everytime I see -bleep-, my mind spaces out and thinking gets overpowered by unfettered emotions.
Argh. I hate it. But I can’t seem to do anything about it. Call it sadomasochistic tendencies… the way I seem to want to punish myself and find pleasure in pain.
I don’t even know why I allow myself to get so affected. Why am I so affected?
Can I choose to ignore what I feel, or am I just helplessly held captive by my own feelings for -bleep-?
Right after dinner, I was subjected to a rude awakening. I was walking back to the dorm with my friends when I saw a familiar figure. Yep; sure enough, it was -bleep-, now wearing glasses and a shorter hairdo. To me, it just gave an air of sophistication. In short, it was way too cute for me for me handle.
Damn. It all came rushing back. I couldn’t help it. My fears had come to confront me head on. With my heart racing, -bleep- passed us by. My friends didn’t notice; they didn’t know. But I sure did. And deep inside, my world had turned upside down. I was all topsy-turvy.
After quite some time, -bleep- looked even better than I remember. And sadly, that just goes to prove that I am so not over it yet.
I wasn’t thinking. Just the mere sight of -bleep- deprives me of rational thought. And not to mention sleep. Even until now.
And for that, God help me.
July 10, 2006 Microeconomics and Ma’am Kraft
Somebody help me. I need something to prop up my eyelids. It’s only now that I realized the “monotonicity” of Dr. Kraft’s voice. Sorry for the jargon, we’re talking about consumer behavior right now. And if I were a consumer, Ma’am Kraft would be a neutral good, which means I would be indifferent to her and her lecture. She’s not only NOT an optimal choice, even taking exogenous variables (i.e. price changes, income effects, etc.) into consideration, my demand for her lectures would definitely not increase and/or shift outward. But alas, her class is a necessary good; being a 4-unit major subject I’m required to take. Argh, now she’s talking about the derivation (using calculus) of reservation prices. Has it occurred to me that I’m actually not paying attention anymore, and that I’m scribbling my gripes here in my notebook in the middle of my microeconomics class? Blah, who cares? I can’t take it. I’m afraid my eyelids would continue to droop and that I’d really fall asleep in the middle of the lecture. I therefore conclude that microeconomics is not a mentally stimulating class. You just don’t know how hard I try to fight the urge to doze off. And we’re not even halfway through the period yet. Oh, please. Give me some slack. A break is what I need. Blame it on the cool weather. And the pleasant, air-conditioned classroom. Or Dr. Kraft’s droning, motherly voice that soothes you like a lullaby. Or is it just because I just can’t seem to grasp what on the world she’s talking about? Is her approach a bit too mathematical and “intuitively appealing” but complex to interpret? Or is just because I’m a dunce at math? I think she’s starting to notice that our minds are drifting off to never-never-land or someplace else. She just put down the microphone and is now asking us about the assumptions for convexity of the model being discussed… Okay, now she’s back to ‘normal’ (read: boring)… Whew, for a moment there I thought she was going to call out names. I have to stop. We’re moving on to substitutes and complements, and she’s starting to take good looks at us. Until I can’t stand the urge to hibernate again… ‘Til then, trusty notebook and sympathizing scribblemates…
2:30 am, July 9, 2006 Looking up
My blog entries can be broadly classified into two categories: 1.) my never-ending personal issues, and 2.) my gripes and complaints about life in general. I’m always complaining… How boring my profs and their lectures are, how my hectic sked on Mondays and Thursdays just eats me up, or how the friggin’ weather doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. The list goes on… And the worst part is I worry too much. Yeah, and I’m supposed to be a Christian? Shame on me. I’m always mumbling to myself, wondering how I’m gonna do this or that, what will happen when and where, and why all things seem to be cluttering and complicating the “simple life” I have always dreamed of. Sheesh, I wonder how I could have managed to cling to mental normalcy all these years. But you know what? On a positive note, I don’t easily feel bad or depressed anymore, even when I’m pressured and all stressed out. I no longer feel bad about myself, and instead, I smile. Funny, I know it sounds crazy. It’s like somebody turns on the lights every time it starts to get dark and gloomy. Weird, huh? I dunno. It’s just that I could always seem to find something to smile about. Then I realize, thing’s aren’t that bad after all. For the past week, it's as if God has always given me a reason to smile in spite of all my troubles; the rat race we live in and the daily grind of UP life. Something good just pops every time I start to worry about things. Like when I was running out of money last Friday, and when I checked my ATM, mom had just sent me my allowance for the fourth straight week in a row. And I’m supposed to receive my allowance only twice a month. Or the time when I was worrying and uncertain about my answers in an exercise set in Econ, only to find out that they were correct all along. And just this afternoon, I emerged smiling to myself from my suking neighborhood internet café. Why? Oh, let’s just say I (finally) found a picture of -bleep- amongst the tangled filesystems and directories in the computer shop. *wink*
6:36 pm, July 6, 2006 Chasing shadows
Argh. Wait a minute, my head’s still spinning. Just woke up from a quick nap; it’s become some sort of habit of mine to take short naps whenever I can. That’s what sleep deprivation, irregular sleeping patterns, and daily stress do to you. The past few days were a blur of activities, and I guess I’m still recuperating. Monday night saw all the newbies of East Wing 2 at the Tambayan Complex, practicing for our presentation for the Acquaintance Party. All the racket we made caused us some angry shouts and curses from nearby Ipil Residence Hall. So off we went to the parking area near the street. But we were still eventually forced to call it a night at almost 12 midnight because East Wing 1 was complaining that we were causing a disturbance. My personal take on that is that they just didn’t want us to finish our rehearsals because they were intimidated. But that’s another issue.
The moment Tita Glow told us that because of our very “cultural” presentation, the Philippines was now ready to host the Olympics; we knew we were the team to beat. And sure enough, we clinched the crown.
Eat yer hearts out East Wing 1
After the newbies presentation came our “Welcoming Rites”/ Initiation. Again, it took them forever to get it started and get it over with. We were blindfolded, led to all sorts of places, screamed at, made to do all sorts of tasks in different stations, made to squat for minutes, and splattered with icky goo all over. Then, just like that, it was over. It wasn’t bad, not really harsh as I had expected. Only, the squatting part wasn’t very kind to our knees. And it became a mad rush to the shower stalls, afterwards. The food was so-so: orange pansit, (palabok? I’m not so sure), a piece of bread and orange juice. But then, the measly servings could not lick, or even put a dent on my appetite. Hey, I didn’t have dinner because they said we’d start at 7 pm, but in fact, it started at about 8:30 already. So I came back with Andrew and Monchi for round 2. And we came back again for round 3, where we stuffed ourselves with Spanish bread and pan de coco. Considering Monchi’s build, it was perfectly understandable. But Andrew? For such a small guy, he sure has an appetite. But then again, he did dance like he was high on drugs or something, so it’s excusable. Anyway, I still had to shower and tidy up before going to bed. I went to sleep at half past three. Woke up all groggy and disoriented at about noon. Did some computation work on my Econ exercise sets, had a few bits of toast, showered, and hied off to my CWTS class at Econ. After two brilliant speakers during the last two sessions, we had a film showing (Munting Tinig) on education. Even if it was cool and comfy inside the audi, and the film was a bit dated, I still didn’t feel sleepy at all throughout the two-hour period. (The film had been bought by Warner Bros. for distribution?) After class, it was off to the Lagoon for the Correp Selection of the new Basement Boys. We ended at about 7:30, and I, Carlo, and Mac proceeded to Balay Kalinaw for the Dorms Christian Fellowship activity. It was solemn, but also fun. Yakal came out on top of the other dorms in Paint-Me-A-Picture. The food was great (Last time, YCF’s pansit was also superb). Partly because it was Kuya Arbie’s (the current DCF president) birthday celebration. The palabok was super, the spaghetti was savory, and the Black Forest cakes were heavenly. Even the egg sandwiches were tasty. And Kuya Dave’s renowned trifle capped off the sinful indulgences. There was no need for dinner when we got back to the dorm at around 9:30. But I still had to finish my Econ exercises and read up on a few subjects. And today… hell, it’s another Thursday. As usual, my schedule’s hectic and I was late in one of my classes. Thank God it’s already Friday tomorrow. I need to catch some Z’s. And clear up my head. I don’t think I can put up with all this shadow work any longer.
July 5, 2006
Bola
As usual, it was the mad rush to the attendance sheets again after our CWTS class. I was jostling my way out of the auditorium, when I noticed a bunch of people crowding around a pair of tables, so reminiscent of a typical ukay-ukay scene. And all the while, I thought I was in UP.
Oh, so our first reaction papers had just been graded. I was looking for my paper amongst the jumbled mess, when two people caught my attention.
Anorexic Girl: Oh, tingnan mo oh. Ang galing naman niya, naka-1.5 siya.
Fat Guy: Hayaan mo na, magaling lang talaga mambola ang mga iyan.
Then, it hit me. Right then and there. And I couldn’t help but wonder (so Carrie Bradshaw, I know):
Has writing been reduced to a matter of pambobola? Could it really be just about one’s skill with manipulating words and adeptness at literary techniques to achieve a desired effect on people? Or even deceive them?
Does writing all boil down to manipulation and deception?
Frankly, I don’t agree. Well, excuse me, but I beg to differ. And it isn’t just because I got a 1.25 in my paper, which implies that I’m actually better at pambobola than the guy they were talking about.
I think Fatso was just bitter because he got a measly 2.0 while most people got 1.75’s and 1.5’s. And I refuse to believe that writing is just all about flattery and pambobola, and giving people what they want to hear.
For one, it’s an insult to the readers. I mean, UP students are supposed to be intelligent (and critical) enough to see through the pambobola and be able to asses on the merits of good writing, content, and sound reasoning. How much more for our professors?
And then again, there’s the sincerity factor. Again, people can usually distinguish between what is sincere and what is ‘synthetic.’ You know when a written material is true because the sincerity comes through. Thoughts and feelings jump out of the words to tap the mind, tickle the imagination, and touch the heart. Nothing beats sincerity in writing, not even technical skill with language.
But then, I could just be on the defensive, simply refusing to let other people belittle the grade I had worked hard for.
Well, we all do have our biases. But it doesn’t give other people the write to imply that our papers are just craftily written works of pambobola.
It’s such a shame. Especially when some people just don’t know when to speak for themselves.
July 3, 2006 The unitiated
After over a year here in UP, I am still one the “orgless” – one of those rare souls who still do not belong or are not affiliated with any organization whatsoever. My provincial org is inactive, so it doesn’t count. At first blush, it would seem like there are lots to choose from. There must be hundreds of organizations, academic and otherwise, fraternities, and sororities all over UP Diliman. But then, you find out that in reality, there are actually very limited pickings. Or at least for me it is. First there’s the exclusivity of organizations. Of course, academic orgs will usually not accept any applicants who do not belong to their particular field of interest. For instance, the UP EcoSoc doesn’t accept non-econ majors in the same way that the Association of PoliSci Majors accepts only political science students. Then, the people who make up the org is a big factor, too. If they’re snot-nosed rich kids who speak a hybridized (read: coñotic) language, then you are well-advised to avoid them like the plague. And lastly, there’s also the application process to keep in mind. App periods vary from one month to one year, and some even until you can meet the org’s requirements, those with Talents Nights and Final Rites and those without, and those who seem to be content just by your simple act of signing up your name and where the app process is virtually non-existent/ one-big-farce. Why haven’t I applied for any org? Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t like the general ‘feel’ of the people who populate the UPSE, and Econ-based orgs. Let’s just say they’re not my crowd. And besides, the application processes are usually demanding/ demeaning. Which brings me to my point: Why do orgs have to make such a big fuss over their application processes? Can’t they be like the dorm-based Christian fellowship where all you have to do is regularly attend gatherings every week? Even here in the dorm, they’ve got an Initiation or what they call “Welcome Rites.” (Which I assume is more politically correct?) What happens during these Final/Welcome Rites? Well, they make the applicants/ newbies do all sorts of things. Eyebrows propped up and voices raised, they dress them down and grill them with questions, make them roll over in the mud and do all sorts of challenges, dress in drag and strut their stuff on the catwalk, strip to their undies, and sometimes, even worse… (I’m serious.) What for? Well it’s mostly psychological. They reason out that orgs usually want to the test the mettle of their applicants and their seriousness in joining. Some say it gains the trust of the senior members, helps get to know the newbies, and bonds them together. I don’t really buy that crap. The reason most people do is that it’s the standard line of almost all organizations, and you know what they say: “It becomes truth if you repeat it often enough.” If they really want to screen the serious applicants from those who have nothing better to do, then why couldn’t they at least make them do things that are actually related to the nature of the organization? What’s with all the unrelated, and may I say unnecessary, tasks and challenges? Case in point: why did male applicants of the UP EcoSoc have to do crossdress their way in a fashion show to make it in the org? I could have accepted it if they were made to take a diagnostic exam or something, or made to solve cost functions and derive the demand function or something. Are they after the entertainment? Do they just want to make fun of the applicants? Could it be that the senior members just want to flaunt their over-inflated egos (I hope it bursts), and assert their superiority/ seniority? And participating in the FI doesn’t really make you more trustworthy or bonded with your orgmates. What, does just that happen in an instant? Poof! Okay, I trust you; from now on we’re close. That’s a bit hard to swallow – and quantify. It’s just a perception, something planted in the mind of every of every applicant from the time of orientation. It remains unquestioned because it’s the widespread practice. Give me the facts or the results of psychological studies and I may just believe them. Why the need to put on faces on the part of the members and play hard-to-get-org? Honestly, some orgs just don’t deserve all the hassle. If they really believe in their lofty ideals, why subject the applicants through all sorts of things (psychological/ emotional torture and battering, humiliation, etc.) all in the spirit of good clean fun(?). Whatever. The worst part is that it breeds a vicious cycle. The applicants become members, who in turn make it hell for later applicants, and who also perpetuate the unquestioned cycle, ad infinitum. I dunno. Maybe my standards are just a bit too high. Or I’m just too proud and I actually think that I can stand alone and that I don’t need an org as a crutch or to prove my worth. Or I’m simply just too lazy to put up with those. I’m starting to condition myself for an orgless life for the rest of stay here in UP Definitely none in the UPSE. Or at least not yet. Well, I do plan to eventually join an org. But one with no Talents Night and Final Rites, please. (*twitch*) All at the right time. Who says you need an org to make the best out of our stay here in the university? And if it’s just for the sake of decorating you résumé come graduation time, oh please… It’s so not worth it.
June 19, 2006 Academics
I’m starting to regret taking the maximum load this sem and enlisting in Prof. Pernia’s Macroeconomics class.
My schedule is a mess. And Macroeconomics is sheer torture.
Prof. Pernia’s class is a sleeping pill. It’s a struggle against eyelids adamantly wanting to shut themselves tight in the middle of his lectures.
He comes to the room a few minutes past two o’clock, takes up another few minutes plugging in the laptop and loading the slides. He talks in a droning monotone, repeating concepts over and over again, concepts which are basically rehashed from Econ11, self-explanatory, and expected of us Econ majors to be knowledgeable about. He explains them thoroughly, and takes time to pause and think before clicking on to the next slide. And he has this knack for dishing out Latin expressions (Okay, here comes Latin101), written in the Greek alphabet. (*twitch*)
I could bear all the deliberate, in-your-face spoonfeeding sessions… I could fight the urge to drop to the floor dozing and instead force myself to focus…
IF only he dismisses us 15 minutes before time or at least on time.
As it is, he finishes his lectures way past the time. I’d really love to stay around and chat with him, but the problem is I have a class at the School of Statistics, a few minutes walk away. Our Stat instructor doesn’t really care if we come in late, but unfortunately there’s a shortage of seats in our classroom because he accepted too many prerogs. So being late means I’ll have to stand in a conspicuous corner in our cramped classroom for the rest of the period. One word: harsh.
So now, I don’t care if Dr. Pernia doesn’t finish his lectures on time.
I just walk out on him.
Sorry, it’s not my fault he doesn’t follow the 15-minute rule or that his watch is probably late.
And all the while I thought I was so lucky I had secured a seat in his much-coveted class.
Cursed CRS.
Registration
Just got back to the metro last Tuesday.
And miraculously, the registration process wasn’t such a pain in the behind as I expected it to be.
There were none of the usual lines that stretched for miles. I breezed through the transactions, and would have finished if I hadn’t gone to Greenhills to get myself a new phone.
Yep, I just bought myself a new Motorola SLVR L7. It has an awfully limited internal memory; I guess that’s what the memory card is for, but even then… Anyhow, I couldn’t find the Sony Ericsson K700i I was looking for. The few shops that did sell it, sold it at a much higher price than what my sister paid for her phone. But at least now I have a functional phone gain.
I’ve also moved in to my new dorm. Not bad, especially when compared to the other dorms on campus. My roommate’s a History major; we don’t talk much but he seems nice. Our other two roommates have yet to show up.
And oh, I was expecting I’d take two days to get registered because the stupid CRS (as usual, blame it on the system) didn’t give me PE class, just like last sem. But I was early, and I settled for a Walking for Fitness Class, 7-8 am, TF. Okay, don’t give me that look. At least I get some regular exercise.
Anyway, after I finished enlisting, I took an Ikot instead of a Toki Jeep from the Gym, half-expecting to see -bleep- because the route passes through the College of Science and Palma Hall. And when the Jeep passed by the Physics Pav…
Aaargh, never mind.
Saw -bleep- again later in the afternoon, still with that someone.
Sigh. I’m hopeless.
Labels: -bleep-, ragings, rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 12:44 PM |
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| Monday, May 29, 2006 |
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my longest post ever
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It's one of those times again when I don't know what the world is going on with me. I mean, I'm OKAY. There's nothing really major that's wrong with me. (Or is there?) It's just that there's somehting eating me up inside. That 'something' is something I can't characterize nor deduce the who, where, when, why and how of. And that, is the problem. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just a psychologically/emotionally disturbed person. Or is it just plain angst or something else? Teenage moodswings? Or maybe it just has something to do with all that adolescent stuff or something? Hah, I dunno. I give up. Ironically though, it's during these times that I'm all messed up inside that I get to think things over. Or at least try to. (I'm inclined to think but there isn't much coherence to my thoughts like right now.) Sigh. For one, I wonder, if all this writing actually does any real good. Well, blogging does sort of let you let off some steam and express unspoken (can I use 'repressed?') thoughts and feelings. I actually feel better after writing. But then, I realized that all this writing-about-yourself-thing can seem a bit conceited, don't you think? Blogs are, to borrow Jam's words, Narcissistic Shrines... a tribute to the unique and special individual that each and everyone is. So what exactly happens when we blog? We write about our experiences, what we think and feel, and basically we write about ourselves. In a way, writing about ourselves is an expression of self-love. Yes, it's all about vanity. Why do we feel good writing about ourselves? Beacuse we feel that we have a stroy to tell, that oulr lives are actually worth baring to other people, and that other people actaully give a damn about it. I don't know if I'm making sense here. Sorry, I'm just drifting right now. You know that feeling after you took your Socio 10, Econ 11 and MATH 17 Final Exams one after the other? Yeah, zombie-like. Ooops, major digression alert. As I was saying... I guess I 'm getting a bit turned off by all this self-centered writing called blogging. I mean, I just realized I'm actually baring my guts and soul here... published on the internet for anyone with a mind to read... And all I'm writing about is ... myself. What is there about me that could possible interest other people? Do my posts actually do any good, like influencing people positively? Do they even make sense? Are they just attempts aimed at convinving myself that the story my life is actually worth telling on the internet? Or is this whole thing just an exercise in caressing my ego? Aargh. Anyway, Rem's still ranting on. . . *************************************************************************** FYI(specifically Jam and Pluto): Who's Rom? He's the guy I was talking about in a previous post(pre-birthday blues)... Anyway, moving on...
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They say that a balance needs to be maintained to keep this world of contrasts from plummetting into chaos and eventual doom. Darkness balances the light. Yin and Yang. Good and Evil... And all that antithetical stuff...
I say... to hell with that crap.
An otherwise good week (last week) had been marred by some highly undesirable eventualities.
Well, for starters, the damned CRS experineced a glitch and took away two of my enlisted subjects. But wait, that's not all. One of those subjects was Sir Tantoco's class in Kas 1. How dare they deprive me of that once-in-a-lifetime-in-UP class? Harsh.
The stupid system also denied me a class in a major subject, Stat 101, and my sought-after Physics 10. They didn't even give me PE!
Aside from the mishaps with UP's CRS,I also received news that they've approved new fees like the libfee(?) which ranges from 400-800 pesos. And they've proposed a tuition fee hike from 300-1000 per unit, and a host of other fees like an internet fee, and even an energy fee (where's the budget for the MOE?). Last I heard was that the proposal was suspended indefinitely, but I don't know how much I'm going to have to pay this coming sem. The results of PBB Teen Edition's Final eviction night was also a big disappointment. Total letdown man, if you know what I mean. Jam and Brenda didn't make it to the BIg 4. Drat. I could've lived with that, but seeing Clare(?!) and Mikee(?!) edge them out of the competition was just too much. Scream, it's an outrage! (Got that from Christian when Mandisa got booted out of AI Season 5. Speaking of American Idol...) Lastly, it wasn't only the Philippines that seemed to be showing a sadistic streak when it comes to voting for nationwide reality shows. Sorry Randy, America isn't just confused, it had downright lost its marbles. And the new American Idol is... Taylor Hicks?! Whaaaaat?! What the...!? Sure am glad I'm NOT American. It would suck to have someone like him as my idol. I must have looked like one big human question mark when I heard him proclaimed the winner. Tell me this isn't happening. What's going on with the world? Taylor Hicks is an abberration, a musical disharmony (well, maybe not that much), a discontinuity in the time-space continuum... In mathematical terms, the limit does not exist as far as Taylor Hicks is concerned. How the hell are you going to balance that out? Run for cover. The signs are here... Armageddon is at hand. Labels: ragings, rantings |
| posted by remrick @ 11:09 AM |
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| Friday, April 28, 2006 |
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Of civility and flying mortarboards
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Blah, I just don't get it. What's all the fuss about that anti-GMA in-your-face heckler from Cavite State University? I was watching the news, when I saw the report where she was being hailed as some sort of "role model" or something for her bold move to "express her sentiments." Crap. And it got into my nerves when I saw no less than the likes of our very own University Student Council Chair Marco de los Reyes and other USC Councilors hailing here as some sort of hero(/heroine). Yet more crap. Don't our councilors have anything better to do? Rather than make up false heroes and role-models, shouldn't they be brushing up on their manners? Heck, if it was my graduation, things would have been different. If I had seen her unfurling a protest banner in the middle of the ceremony, I'd have not only raised my hat (I think the term is mortarboard, right?) to her, I'd also have sent it flying into her face. Oh no, she has no right whatsoever to debase the solemnity of the ceremonies, and disregard the opinion of others to insist on her own She has no right to express herself at the expense of her fellow graduates and their parents who either have differing views or are sick and tired of politics. If she had no respect for Gloria, then she should have at least respected her fellow graduates and their parents. And besides, if she really was defiant and 'brave' and wanted to express her sentiments against the president, why did she have to go up on stage and shake hands with GMA? She could have told Gloria in her face to resign or given her a lecture on governance for all I care. Take yer crap with you. I'm having none of it. To clarify things, I am not a pro-administration lackey.Who likes Gloria? I certainly don't. But if Ms. Maria Theresa Pangilinan had any qualms about having what she calls a "fake president" as the guest of honor, then she could have done two things: 1. Opposed during the meeting of the School Board (She is the Student Gov't Chair), or written to the university administration or something. 2. Or if that fails, then she could have protested all she wanted in front of the Admin. Building all day. That's freedom of expression for you. She has got to know her limits. Her rights end where those of others begin. If I were a fellow graduate, while she has the right to freedom of expression, I have the right to a solemn, orderly, and pleasantly memorable graduation. And so do my parents. She just ruined the entire ceremony; what right does she have to do that? And besides, while she has her constitutionally-granted right to express herself, there is such a thing as a proper time and place... a proper venue... a proper forum... She could have at least waited 'til the end of the program, then she could have heckled and shouted at the president all she wanted. We shouldn't be acting like children, intimidating and hurling insults at people we don't like. What she did wasn't commendable; it was condemnable. What she did wasn't brave, it was brash. What she did does not, in any way, stand for the beliefs and attitudes of the Filipino yout; it spoke of immaturity, impetuousness and the hell-may-care attitude of the activist and militant youth. And she had this to say: "What I did was to stand for what many Filipinos believe is the truth - that she (Mrs. Arroyo) cheated to win the presidency." Now, is that how a 'university student' - let alone graduate - acts and thinks?
To dish out glittering generalities? To act solely and impulsively on 'belief' and perception (and not think of proof or validation)? Shame. We - this goes to all the youth - should me more critical - not only of those in power, but others as well - and more mature. What we have in this country is a love for trumpeting our rights and civil liberties, but a lack of civility - that one basic ingredient for a well-ordered society. And we this glaring lack when a citizen diregards public welfare... when someone smokes even in crowded places, when someone turns the city into one big garbage dump, and when somebody acts without thinking or giving consideration to other people. If our USC hails Ms. Pangilinan as a role model, then I'd beg to disagree. No thanks. I'd rather be a deviant. And be damned proud of it. Labels: ragings |
| posted by remrick @ 2:04 PM |
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| About Me |
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Name: remrick
Home: Surigao City, Philippines
About Me: Let me tell you what I'm not:
I am not predisposed to bare my guts and soul here in the internet for the whole world to see just for the sake of it. It's just that I like writing, in the free and unstructured way that blogging provides for. I simply want to express what I think and feel. Is that too much to ask? Which leads me to my next point...
I am not invulnerable, in spite of all my attempts to put on a face of cool composure, and desperately wanting I was good enough to fool myself.
In short, I am not really what I seem.
So, would you still take my ramblings seriously?
See my complete profile
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