Sunday, August 27, 2006
Patience...
I've always believed that each person is innately good; that no matter how scheming and sarcastic one can be, there is that little spark of niceness.
But God knows that for this semester, I have been struggling to love people who hurt me; I have been trying my best to keep my impulsiveness to a minimum and avoid events that would make me burst with anger.
I occasionally get irritated by the things around me but I try my very best never to get angry, worse even to hate.
And yesterday, I was almost pushed to the limit. For days I had been crying to my friends, to God most often, about the struggles I had been undergoing in the group: the bitterness of being separated from my first group (the ONLY one who never had someone from the previous group in the new group), the pains of getting to understand the oddities of each of my groupmates' personality, the patience of bearing with all the stuff some of them had been throwing against me.
Before, I was understood. My old group, Bibbo (yeah we're that corny...haha), understood the things I did, the schedule of my life that I had to put up to, the physical and emotional pressures.
I do not intend that my new group will understand me totally. I do not impose my behavior against them and I'm not planning to even make them realize the complexities of my mind.
No.
I am trying, God. I am trying hard. But sometimes I feel there is an end to all the tries. Help me Lord to give all as You had done; to understand and love in spite of being persecuted and being crucified.
Sometimes I'd like to think I am only human.
But being human has the privilege of free will; for me it's to love and not to love.
My brain is telling me to give up on them, so are the people around me, but my heart speaks otherwise.
Help.
11:25 AM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Better than Life!
And You Oh Lord made the sunshine and the moonlight in the night sky
You give me breath and all Your love
I give my heart to You because...
I can't stop falling in love with You.
I'll NEVER stop falling in love with You.
Today I received two miracles:
- I got what I pleaded God for (Got stuck in traffic..thought I'd get a 0 in the quiz but I entered the room to find out a re-test will be made available. I may not have scored as high as people would have expected but I was happy with the 85, nonetheless. PLUS...with a little time to study, I still managed to pull off a 90 in Pathology. Wee.)
and
- I've realized something that I should have realized a long time ago...
*Being inspired should be a habit; It makes me uber efficient.*
Hay.
8:37 PM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
Sunday, August 20, 2006
when thoughts pop up and exaggeration begins
It's august 20, 2006; barely one and a half month to the 19-years-old-life and I'm still not over the fact that I am nearing the dawn of another developmental stage---young adulthood.
According to Erikson, young adulthood starts actually at 18-19 and goes up to 35 years. After passing the crucial teenage years and the stage of identity vs. role confusion, I am now beginning to enter the stage of the dreaded intimacy vs. isolation.
In my case, nbsb (and i'd like to declare the first one void as it was really technically some childish game of best friends turned gf-bf for a month and the drama ensued...well that's another story i'd freakin like to forget and never repeat...i sound so defensive.), i'm not sure where i'll fare. Isolation, perhaps? Thinking of it even makes it scarier.
Well this post isn't really the whines of a desperate teenager thinking why at the moment I am absorbed in books while the others cry over boys; this is actually a level below whiny.
Okay seriously, this is one of those moments I lie in bed after watching some series that first made me fuzzy wuzzy all over and empty at the next minute.
I actually have a 12% lovelife. Or so I'd like it to be on that percentage.
To add to the drama is my mom who keeps on bugging me when I'd like to entertain beings of the opposite sex and actually start bringing them for critique.
I mean...WHY? Why does the world have to push you when you're not even thinking about it in the first place? Why did mom have to pull me beside her a while ago and give me a mini talk about boys and falling in love and studies and...
getting married?
Why does this have to be the standard according to esteemed theorists in development? Why does nineteen have to be the stage when people around, relatives especially, ask when you're freaking gonna bring someone to reunions?
My brain is actually telling me that i'm over exaggerating. Bah..who cares anyway?
Going back to the developmental stage, I am technically within the scope of intimacy vs isolation. Meaning, at this point in time, I should be forming relationships; in this stage, I must veer towards the fulfillment of intimacy or I'd find myself withdrawn from the world, alone and sulking in one corner why the state of single blessedness ever existed.
Looking around though, I'm not alone. There are others who I know never even had a girlfriend before.
and some of them are even older than me.
So what is the point of all these?
Well since I have two more years to finish college and time flies so fast you suddenly stop and realize you're freaking nineteen, I am at the point of wondering whether I'd really like to be in the medical field someday, cutting up people open to either save lives or further investigate cause of death.
I know whoever would actually read this post will think I am such a lunatic in planning ahead when I have still begun the race; add to that the sudden rush of thoughts about relationships and all that.
Honestly, I don't even know why I am feeling this way. Hormonal changes, perhaps, due to the start of my ovulation period? Things suddenly popped while I was watching Grey's Anatomy.
Well maybe it's also because of that certain episode about adult responsibility...or even the fact the whole series actually is a carbon copy of what I will be getting into if ever I do continue my hazy dreams of being a surgeon.
Argh...hodge podge thoughts... nonsensical incoherence!
To actually summarize these (if ever the next thing i'll type would fare for a summary), I am actually in the state of wonder.
I'm scared.
I'm still actually a kid. I'd like to believe that fairytales are true and that eating oreo is better than actually _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _n _ _ _ _.
Dream on, Lesley Anne.
Dream on.
12:40 AM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
Friday, August 18, 2006
Still
In spite of the many temptations that came my way this week, in spite of the times I hated certain people and in spite of the times I was nearly being pulled out of righteousness...
God never failed to remind me of His presence.
This week, though tumultuous, enlightened me to a lot of things. I realized that my struggle to remind myself that my studies are just superficial and worldly still remains in the subconscious. Though I have announced to the world my grades do not matter, the temptation to make it MATTER persists.
But I still hold on to God. He knows I'm trying to keep my thoughts away from my selfish ambitions.
Deep within my heart, I feel so strongly, is service; deeper still is love.
All these because of one song that became what seemed like the theme song of my life:
STILL (Hillsong-Hope)
Hide me now
Under Your wings
Cover me
Within Your mighty hand
When the oceans rise and thunders roar
I will soar with You above the storm
Father You are King above the flood
I will be still and know You are God
Find rest my soul
In Christ alone
Know His power
In quietness and trust
----
Thanks Ate Dana for helping me with his epiphany.
10:37 PM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
Friday, August 11, 2006
Too much H's
I have just survived hell week. Midterms in n201 done, individual case done, group case done, ward class done. But actually, hell week is just about to start; the psychiatric nursing and teaching strat exams are gonna happen next week.
As usual, during hell week, my sleeping patterns get erratic. And unlike before when I wake up most of the people at home due to the loud music blasting from the speakers to obviously keep me awake when the caffeine fix subsides, I now sleep abnormally early to the point that my goals to accomplish aren't all done.
Ahhhh and that sucks for someone so OC like me. I get all panicky the next day when things were left undone. Except for literary works and newspaper deadlines, I hate the idea of cramming. I HATE cramming to the core. That is why I keep an organizer to fix my time schedule for the day and for the week.
(well yeah i also keep an organizer due to short term memory loss and an uber busy lifestyle)
I've got a theory though. Since I had been joining the owls in staying awake since high school, my body clock is suddenly giving up on me. In layman's terms, kailangan na yata ng battery.
-----
I am starting to have the Starbucks bug. I can't live without their hot latte. I hate it. I am not supposed to get addicted. I am not supposed to drink coffee due to my heart ailment.
But. I. Can't. Seem. To. Stop. Dang.
--------
I want to hate you. All of you. I want to get out and I will do everything to get out from your circle. You guys don't know what it feels like to be degraded and stepped on. I am very patient...just don't burst the bubble.
See you. I don't care if you're gonna hate me. Hate me, then. You guys are no more than a family nor friends to me.
Ever since, I never felt belonged anyway.
10:57 AM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
Thursday, August 03, 2006
in memory of...
Sometimes, it is okay to question God, just like a famous author wrote in his book. And last night, as I said my final prayers and bade goodbye with tears suppressed, I squeezed my rosary bracelet and asked Him why.
I thought I was emotionally prepared for the moment; that the delivery would be just like any other. But when the baby's skull-less head was peeping and three doctors were pulling his neck to get him out, my walls crumbled.
Silently, I was praying to God to somehow save him, even for a day. To make him strong as he was too fragile to be. I prayed hard to the point that a few tears were already trickling down my cheek. Though I knew the risk of death was high, I was expectant of a miracle. I somehow affirmed myself that God was great and majestic; that at a fingersnap, he can help the infant see the grandeur of His creation. Just for a day, Lord God, I prayed. Just a day.
But God did not snap.
A few minutes later, he finally came out after being pulled out forcefully. Tears fell from most of our eyes while the others watched with great suppression of pain. Though I cried a few, I placed my masks to hide my feeling of grief. I thought, this was something I should get used to; something i should accept. One after the other I placed my mask. One after another, one after another.
As he was being given postmortem care, his eyes were open yet lifeless;they seem to stare at you with great agony. His lifeless body was pallor white and his frame was small and limp.
Without the knowledge of the rest, I gave him a silent baptism and prayed to God that I wasn't too late to.
'Til now I still ask God why.
Without any other words; just "why?"
12:06 AM
-----*-----
I don't care what the world
throws at me now.
It's gonna be alright.
-----*-----
