Random Lives

I was on my way home early this evening, when I decided, out of the blue, that it was time to have a haircut. I've always gone to this same barber since I was 6 years old--- except for those times when the line was so long that I'd rather have my haircut elsewhere, than to wait... or at those times when the barbershop had to relocate and I still haven't found its new location. I have always preferred to have my haircut in this particular area, rather than go to those high end barber shops. For one thing, it's very near our house. And hey, the price is dirt cheap. I'm no cheapskate, but why spend so much more on practically the same thing? But I guess the main reason is the ambience. The local color. It is a place where I can mingle with the real people... the people i don't get to interact with regularly. Those people that I hardly notice when i go on with my busy life.

You can say I grew old with my barber. He watched me grow, from a child to a young adult, and I watch him change, from a young man full of promise, full of hopes and dreams, driven by ambition... to a man who seems resigned to his fate. When before he used to be full of energy, now he seems like a man who has grown weary and tired of life. For someone that I have known for the past 20 years, it's amazing how I still see him as an acquaintance. 20 years of knowing a person--- you'd figure that I would think of him as someone who's more than an acquaintance. I don't feel a strong bond between us that would make me think of him as a friend. Just a relationship between a barber and his customer, born out of convenience and familiarity. I just got used to the routine. Sure there's the occasional small talk, wherein I've learned some of his family problems, women problems, and the usual monetary problems. I mean, how far can a barber's salary actually go? He seems to have a bit of pride, also. Each time the barber shop changes locations, he speaks as if he owns the place. I wonder why he can't tell me the truth... the truth is evident, after all. With his questions, he got to know a few details about me. Where I went to school, that I eventually went to a public university, and subsequently went to med school... but for the past few months, he has been asking fewer questions, sometimes he doesn't even speak at all, as if in some deep thought. To him, I seem to be perennially in Med school, and I don't really think I should tell him I'm officially a doctor already. I can somehow see how he's feeling through those sad eyes, but I don't really think it would be proper for me to ask him what the matter was. It may be a private matter and I may seem to be prying--- he might not think of me as a friend after all. He might not be comfortable pouring out his problems to a simple customer. THis evening, he was again quiet, and I somehow prefer it that way. I was tired, and I preferred it to be strictly business this evening. But when I heard some of the conversations inside the barber shop, I seemed to have put on my invisibility cloak again, and observed the strangers around me.

There was this woman sitting on a stool, apparently the new caretaker of the barber shop. SHe keeps complaining of this terrible headache she has, and how she hasn't been able to sleep much for weeks. My barber told her she should see a doctor, but she said she'd rather not. For a moment, I was afraid he would tell her that I was a Doctor. I gues he still thinks I'm in my early years in Med School. I guess staying quiet was shameful, but I was still afraid to officially start practicing my field in the outside world, with no one to back me up. Plus the fact that I was tired... and the fact that I won't normally give advise if it wasn't asked of me... I wasn't born to be that brave and bold. Soon she began telling my barber how her husband has been cheating on her, how her children hate her, how her eldest son told her she was shit and they're better off without her. Then she talks about her way of releasing stress--- driving a motorcycle on top speed without a helmet on... not caring at all if she dies or not... actually wishing she would have an accident, so she could end it all. I can only imagine all the hurts and pain that this lady could be going through for her to think of taking the easy way out... just like that.

Swith channels to the other barber, who has no customer. he's boorish, garish, loud. A complete contrast to the souls I have previously mentioned. telling nasty jokes, flirting with one lady who keeps on avoiding his advances. Touching several people even in private parts, all in the name of fun. He laughs again, and the people around him laugh with him. Even the problematic lady seemed to catch some of his contagious laughter, though despair was still evident in her eyes. I have known this barber for a long time also, sometimes i get a haircut from him. He's a real talker. He keeps on telling tall tales even if you're not paying attention. And he's fond of making jokes. These jokes seem to be his outlet, laughter seems to be his means to hide all the pain that he feels. i can see that in those few moments when he becomes silent momentarily, revealing sadness in his eyes.

I was still in deep thought, quietly observing, when suddenly, someone broke through my cloak of invisibility. A few minutes earlier, an overweight cross dresser walked in, flirting with the other barber, asking for a free shave. He eventually obliged, after several threats of more seduction. The cross dresser made small talk with the other patrons, with several naughty stories. My cloak vanished when he made small talk with me. He asked several questions, and I was wary to give any answers. Some questions were indeed prying, and somewhat improper. I know his ilk--- i have had several encounters with his kind. Good thing my barber was almost done with his deed. I paid him, gave the usual generous tip, and said my goodbyes. I kept looking back though, if there was a lurker behind me. Someone whom I have observed enough, who might have a hidden agenda for such small talk.

As i walked home, I can't help but think about those people I've just encountered, how difficult lives must be for them. In the eyes of these different people, it is quite confusing how on one hand we see our God creating a beautiful world, yet he allows it to be littered with pain, confusion, ugliness, and even madness. I have interacted with a lot of people... in hospitals, during community works... and it would seem that pain, sadness, and suffering are the prevalent emotions in our world. It's evident when one simply stood still, and observes the people around him. It's that prevalent. even when I'm out getting myself drunk, I encounter a lot of people filled with pain, and many of those people are friends that I' close to. It's hard to see the beauty in this world when majority seem to paint a bleak picture. Maybe it's a horrible world after all, we just see beauty when we choose to see it.

We only see beauty when we choose to imagine it.

Potpourri

I CRIED

I could’ve cried when i felt hurt and disregarded
I could’ve cried each time we did not get along.
But i did not, even though i was deeply wounded,
Even when the wall between us seemed so thick and strong.

I could’ve cried when you decided, we should not be together
I could’ve cried when you said it was all over.
I could’ve cried because, you failed to see
That my love for you would last for eternity.

I could’ve cried when I heard that you left me for him
I could’ve cried each time that i hear you cry.
I could’ve cried when you felt hurt because he has hurt you
But i can’t, no matter how hard I would try.

I could’ve cried for you took away the one thing I treasure,
I could’ve cried for you ignored my love, so pure.
But you did not deserve my compassion nor my tears
For you ignored everything I had to endure.

I could’ve cried when I chose to ignore you
Because that was so hard for me to do.
I could’ve cried when you said there was no one else you can turn to
But how can I trust you when you have never been true?

All the sorrow I kept inside, poured out one day
I was stunned and stupefied, I had no words to say.
No amount of tears can bring you back to my side,
Yet i cried so hard on the day that you died.

10/27/99

*********

DYING

“The longest wait is the one for death”
-- hold on to dear life, until the last breath

I convince myself that I am so strong.
---To my own self, I am lying
I try to conceal the sordid truth,
That slowly, but surely, i am dying.

As i lie in bed, alone at night,
I wonder if tomorrow, i can no longer fight
When my knees would bend, all functions would cease
When my body can no longer fight the disease.

I yearn for the days when she kept me warm
When i felt safe, tucked in her arms
I yearn for each caress, given by Mother
I yearn for those memories, buried forever.

It’s so hard to believe that all would soon end
The life i have cherished, every soul, every friend
It’s hard not to breakdown, it’s so hard not to cry
Soon I would be gone, this world will past me by.

My longest wait is the one for my death
I’ll cling on to dear life, until my last breath...

12/27/99

*********

PRETENSIONS

One has to be wary of your every action.
But I had no choice, for I needed affection.
Your intentions have shown, yet you’re quick to defend.
It’s amazing you still have the nerve to pretend.

Your eyes seem like windows to a soul so pure,
Not a hint of the weariness you have to endure.
Each day, I see a smile on your beautiful face,
Not a hint of betrayal, not a hint of disgrace.

As we lie in the dark I can hear you whisper
Another man’s name while you’re deep in your slumber.
But when you’re awake, it’s another story.
You act as if your world revolves around me.

I seem like a fool, unaware of your game
Of lust and betrayal, of sin and of shame.
I turn a blind eye while you long for another.
We can’t stop now, we still have use for each other.

Several days from now, maybe even tomorrow,
You could leave me here, in the company of sorrow.
When you’ve sucked me dry, your charades would end.
Then you’ll no longer feel the need to pretend.

03/25/2001

*********

I LOST YOU

I lost you.

From the moment when you first laid eyes on him,
He was longing, inviting, he was wanting.
You looked back at me with contempt and regret
Like a captive with thoughts of escaping.

You had no urge to fight, you were quick to surrender
I tried to hold on, but you pushed me farther.
You let go so easily when you found someone better.
I held on though it’s clear, what we once had is over.

I held onto you.

The putrid scent of betrayal , the bitter taste of defeat
I was seriously injured in your game of deceit.
I truly loved you with all of my heart,
Though all that’s behind you, you keep tearing me apart.

Your memory continues to haunt me.
When I close my eyes it’s still you I see.
You’ve sinned against hope, this can’t be forgotten.
You’ve sinned against love, this can’t be forgiven.

I followed you slowly, questions clouding my mind.
It was quite easy, you never looked behind.
I caught you by surprise, I had to make things right
I crushed your empty heart with all of my might.

And I held you.

As I watched your life slowly drift away,
I cried, for there was no other way.
You’ve done me wrong, you had to pay
In the end no words were left to say.

then I lost you.

06/08/2001

*********

WISHFUL THINKING

Tears fall as I feel your hand slipping away
I cry out as I struggle to hold onto you.
I felt cold as I held onto nothing
As I let go of what was once my everything.

As I watch you fade through the distance
I continue pleading, though you can no longer hear.
I feel numb as the wind caresses my body
I keep whispering to myself, how I need you here.

My world would crumble without you---
A vision so harsh and yet painfully true.
I should learn to move forward, see what lies ahead,
But I keep looking back at what we once had instead.

Though it may be time for me to move on,
I can’t just leave it all behind.
For I feel in my heart, somewhere, somehow,
You still might change your mind.

01/15/2002

*********

IMPERFECTIONS WELCOME

Stillness...

As I wake at the dawn of each morning
Struggling to keep my own sanity.
I wear my mask, with no clear purpose
Amidst this sea of anonymity.

Delusions...

Superficial illusion of a perfect life
Pretending there’s compassion, but in truth there is strife
A scar left uncovered means a life of shame.
Wounds shown to others, abruptly ends this tedious game.

Confusion...

I drag my feet over and over.
Can’t keep up with the cycle, I chose to surrender.
Pretensions grew tiresome, sick of this routine.
My mask fell to the ground, revealing what was unseen.

Silence...

They have no choice but to watch me suffer,
They have no choice but to watch me die.
It’s a grim and bitter reminder
Imperfections aren’t welcome in this life.

01/15/2002

The Sandman: Lord of the Dreamworld

I've said before that it's only recently that I'm beginning to discover the amazing stories that are told in the DC universe. I've been searching for treasures in the DC comic books vault once again, and for the past few days, I've been immersed in the world of The Sandman. I still can't find a copy of The Killing Joke, so I thought I should check out the other DC graphic novels on the shelves, particularly in their Vertigo line (which caters to mature readers). I've seen all volumes of The Sandman series at a local bookstore, and I thought they looked interesting... and in case they sucked, at least they'd be great for display. Talk about judging books by their covers! LOL. Kudos to attractive packaging!

Those graphic novels cost a small fortune, about $20 each, and the whole series spans 11 volumes! Buying all of them would probably mke me bankrupt! So my stringent self prevailed... I searched the net for reviews first, and apparently, the series was the most critically acclaimed and award winning comic book series of the 1990's. These graphic novels are in a league of their own. "Sophisticated suspense"--- that's how they describe these books. The books were highly recommended by a lot of users also. So a week ago,I bought the first volume; i figured--- with such overwhelming recommendations, I might as well try reading it. This was a really different comic book series... really dark in tone, somewhat gothic. It was really violent and at times psychotic also, definitely not for kids. And even if some kid would buy one of these books, I doubt if he would understand the profound and complicated storyline enough to enjoy it. As for myself, I was was so amazed and mesmerized by the world Neil Gaiman has created--- i was completely immersed in the Sandman Universe. And unlike when I was reading those Batman Comic books wherein I felt a bit childish, I didn't even feel a slight hint of childishness when I was reading The Sandman. Everything about the series was aimed at adults--- The theme,the storylines, the characters, even the way it was drawn. I was so immersed with the story, that I bought the next volume the very next day! I have the first four volumes now, and at this rate, if I don't control my urge to splurge, I might keep on buying the next volumes until I've spent all my savings! And I know I'll run out of cash way before I've bought all eleven volumes! haha. I'm not regretting having spent so much money though, this is really great stuff--- worth every cent. Each volume is worth re-reading again and again, and it's amazing to discover that you've missed certain details on your first reading!

Speaking of those missed details...

I have to excuse myself while I get back to my readings again. :)

The End of a Dream

Yesterday, I heard some terrible news. A friend told me that a PGH intern has just died. She was diagnosed to have a fever of unknown origin (FUO). Differentials included typhoid fever, dengue fever, meningococcemia, and even EBV. Yet for two weeks, they couldn't arrive at a definite diagnosis. She was found to be coded (no heart beat and no respiration) in the morning, and resuscitative efforts proved to be futile. I never knew the intern, she was not one of the medical clerks I've worked with during my internship training there. Yet, I couldn't help but feel sad for her. What happened makes me think about how fleeting life is... everything can go away--- our source of happiness, sadness, pain, our hopes, our dreams, our ambitions... everything about our lives can be taken from us--- just like that. In an instant... without warning.

Who could've expected such a thing to happen to her? or to any intern, any doctor, for that matter? She went to a top medical school, with dreams of becoming a doctor someday. I don't think she expected to catch a contagious disease on her way to her dream of becoming as physician. Who would've thought that she would catch a potentially fatal illness when she was on triage duty on that day, when she had contact with a patient diagnosed with meningococcemia (hence one of her differentials). We can point fingers at certain people, who were probably at fault... though what good would that do? Maybe it's no one's fault, though I wouldn't be surprised if prophylactic medications were not given, or no face masks were available, since PGH always seemed to run out of much needed medications and supplies. The incident made me realize that health professionals are in a pretty dangerous field. Everyday that we report for duty, we carry many risks--- risks to our health, and even risks to our lives. Everyday we have contact with patients with contagious diseases, some of which are deadly. The burden of too much work coupled with lack of sleep compromises our health even more. Plus those isolated incidents wherein relatives of patients would threaten to hurt you or even kill you if anything happened to their wives, children, parents... yes, such incidents do happen. Some doctors even have it worse. There are a lot of them working at war prone areas, where they would sacrifice their lives, just to fulfill their mission of service. Health profesionals sacrifice a lot, just to continue working in their chosen field. They sacrifice time with family and friends. They sacrifice their own health. And many have sacrificed their lives to be of service to others. Though many people may take what they do for granted, though many health workers go unnoticed, each health worker is a hero. It is not a profession where one can afford to be selfish. When we let selfishness prevail, we can't succeed in this field. We won't be part of the health force at all.

It's really sad to have one's ambition end abruptly like that. We can say that at least she was doing what she wanted to do when disaster struck.... she was on her way to fulfill her ambition. Still, it's a pitiful fate--- she hasn't reached her dreams yet... she was almost there, but not quite. I guess that makes it even more pitiful... her dreams were within reach when everything was taken away from her. I'd hate to think what her loved ones are feeling.... especially her parents. They sent their child to an excellent university, they sent her on the path to fulfill their child's ambition, and maybe their ambition as well--- who wouldn't want to have a doctor in the family after all? Who would've thought that danger was ahead... the road had a fatal trap that would prevent her from reaching her ambitions after all.

sometimes, life can be so unfair.

I Am My Father's Son

That's not something I am proud of.

Don't get me wrong. Sometimes, I wish to be like other people who are so proud of their fathers, that they want the whole world to know just how great their fathers are. But when I try to think of anything about my father that I can be proud of... I just can't. And even when i do, those few good things are overshadowed by everything that is wrong with him.

I never felt close to my father. Maybe during my childhood years, when I was too young to remember. There are pictures that seemed to be proof of that. Back when i was proud of him, back when I cared for my dad. These days, when I'm not angry at him, I simply feel numb. I have no recollection of having established some form of connection with him. These days, I get pissed off just by talking to him. Every time I see him, I can’t help but feel frustration, disappointment, pity, mixed with a bit of anger--- because each time I see him, I see a man who has done nothing but waste his life.

He is pride personified. It is so ironic for a person to be full of pride when I can’t see anything about him that he can be proud of. He hasn't achieved anything that he can be proud of. He acts like some sort of king, as if all other people are his subjects. I don’t like the way he treats some people, like some sort of second class citizens, whose only purpose are to serve him. Disobey his commands and thou shall suffer his wrath. He doesn’t like it when he’s not treated as “the boss”, that’s why he gets so angry when someone challenges his authority. That’s also one reason why he remains unemployed for the past 21 years.

There, I said it. The truth. For as long as I can remember, he has brainwashed me and my siblings to tell people that he is a businessman when we were asked about his occupation. WAS a businessman would be the proper answer. My teachers, my classmates, my friends--- I tell all of them that my father’s a businessman. And I find myself temporarily at a loss for words when I’m asked what sort of business, because the script that we’ve memorized doesn’t include an answer for that. He didn’t finish college, but because of connections with the then president of the country, he was given a high paying job in some company. Apparently, he got a perfect score on some exam given to all high school students --- he was the first person to ever get a perfect score on that exam, so the ex-president took noticed. he was groomed to be one of their trusted minions. The fact that he is intelligent makes his present state even more pathetic. On that said company where he was given a job, of course he was the boss. When that president’s term ended, so did his job. I used to ask my mom why he never looked for another job. My mom said he didn’t want to start at the bottom again because he got used to being on top. Looking at him today, I doubt if he can really start at the bottom. He never respects any form of authority, because to him, he is the authority. Another probable reason would be his laziness. He is just plain lazy. It’s so hard to wake him up in the morning, to get him to do chores, and he even ask others to do very simple things for him. For instance, when he’s eating in the kitchen, he would call any of us, even if we were in another room, just to get a glass of water, or some food for him, when he can just stand up and get whatever he wants himself. Sure, he manages to earn some money occasionally, and I admit, he does get big money. He says he has some occasional and temporary business partnerships with old friends, but I wouldn’t be surprised if shady deals were involved. He always seems busy, he always had meetings. He often goes on trips abroad. Turns out he was only doing favors for that ex-president's family. All those meetings were about matters regarding the ex-president’s family. More specifically, matters regarding the former first lady. For 21 years, that’s all he kept doing--- tehnically, it's 26 years. My whole life that's what he has been doing. I was glad a few years ago because he had an office somewhere, I thought he finally had a stable job. Turns out that office was a center for doing favors for the former first lady and her family. For 21 years, he seemed like their slaves, and he seemed to relish that role. He seemed to relish being so unproductive--- it’s not like he’s getting anything out of it. If he was paying for favors, the favors have been paid years ago. Maybe he gets prestige. He gets to hang out with high society. One of the few good things about what he does is that he gets to establish a lot of connections in every sector you could think of. That’s probably one of the reasons why he can act so superior because he has friends in high places--- the military, the police, the government, even in the health sector. He must think he can get away with anything... I guess he just might. I don't give a sh*t about those connections, though. I can live without his connections.

One of the roles of a father is to provide for his family. As a provider, he sucks bigtime. My grandmother was the one who paid for my tuition fees from grade school up to med school. My grandmother was the one who gave me my daily allowance from grade school up to med school. I probably owe her my very existence. She’s also the one who gives my father his daily allowance up to the present day. At the age of 46, he still depends on his parents for money. How pathetic is that? When he manages to earn some money, he buys us expensive things, and he buys a lot of expensive things for himself. He splurges all in an instant, that’s why he barely has any savings. When he gets money he also gives us some, but I’m always reluctant to accept it, knowing that I’ll probably loan it to him in the future. Sometimes, he even forgets to pay back. How many fathers borrow money from their children anyway? I was barely in my teens when he started doing that, when he found out I have started saving money. Then i learned to lie about it, I pretended to have spent my money on some stuff that I wanted. Then he'll scold me for being so wasteful.

He also has this disease called wishful thinking. He keeps on talking about buying this house, that car, this piece of equipment, that piece of furniture, as if he has a lot of money on hand. All that wishful thinking nauseates me, I’m always trying to keep myself from telling him to shut up. It’s probably okay to live in a dream world if he keeps it to himself, but when he speaks to salesmen, it’s as if he’s really going to make a purchase on that very instant. He speaks as if he’s some sort of millionaire. I’m ashamed for him and for myself on such encounters.

One of the reasons why I decided to pursue being a doctor even if I didn’t really want to at first, was to be sure that I won’t be anything like him. I realized that if I become a doctor, somehow I will be stable and secure. That’s also the reason why my brother is working in some far away province even if he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to be like my father. My sisters feel the same way. If I reach his age and realize how unproductive and pathetic my life has been, I would probably shoot myself in the head. With such a wasted life, it would be better if I had never lived at all.

Just this afternoon, I was witness to one of his "superiority spells". He made such a big fuss about the policemen causing a traffic jam because they were apprehending several traffic violators. His temper was soaring through the roof. He was beyond boiling point, blowing the car’s horn continuously, shouting expletives. Funny how all the other drivers around us didn’t seem to mind the minor traffic at all. When he came within hearing distance of the policemen, he shouted at them. If I was one of those policemen, I would’ve shot him outright, or at least apprehended him. I wish someonw would put him in his place, to wound his pride a bit, to bring him back down to earth. When we had dinner, he again reached his boiling point when the waitress didn’t respond to his call immediately because she was also serving other customers. I wanted to shout at him, to bring him to his senses. What tested my patience even more was when he asked me for some load for his cellphone. Funny how someone can behave like such a King, yet can’t even afford to buy some load for his cellular phone.

While growing up, I didn’t seem to share the same interests as my father. I guess that’s why I never felt close to him, there’s nothing in his life that I can relate to. While growing up, my brother shared more interests with him, that’s why they were closer to each other. I was never jealous, though. I didn’t really care. I noticed that in recent years, he has made a great deal of effort to become closer to me, but it seems futile because it’s a little too late for that. I can't just feel close to a person after so many years of being distant. It’s even harder now that I’ve realized what a big loser he is in life. Just the thought of talking to him annoys me. Even my brother, who was once close to him has now become distant for the very same reason--- looking at how our father has wasted his life pisses him off. Maybe that’s one reason why my father has been making huge efforts to establish some sort of bond with me---- because he has lost any form of connections to both of his sons. He must be connected to at least one.

No matter how I disdain him, the fact remains that I am my father’s son. Sometimes I wish I can be proud of him, the way other sons are proud of their fathers... the way other sons idolize their fathers, the way they emulate and try to be like their fathers... but I just can’t. Trying to emulate him would be stepping back. It's so easy to move past our father’s shadow; for several years now, we cast our shadows back at him.

I am my father’s son...

and it’s not something I can be proud of.

J.D., M.D.

i guess it does have a nice ring to it. :)

after several years in med school, and more than 2 months of burying myself in review books, I've finally made it.

I feel as if I've won the lottery--- and that analogy isn't really far fetched. I was simply guessing for the most part of the exam. and those weren't intelligent guessings at all--- i was guessing without basis for I couldn't eliminate the other choices. Questions were so specific. It wouldn't matter if they asked about common diseases or "must know" topics. Instead, They asked a lot of "out of this world questions"! Like playing the lottery, i just picked a random letter, hoping that I would be lucky enough to be pick the right ones. I guess luck was really on my side on those days. Thank God. :)

In my opinion, I don't think they should make board exams that way. What's the purpose of board exams anyway? Isn't it to determine if we are fit for the profession we choose? how can they determine if we are fit enough when they ask a lot of "out of this world" questions? shoudn't they ask questions about the "must know" topics? those topics that anyone entering a certain profession should know? It's so frustrating when you know you've studied enough, and then you're faced with a lot of esoteric questions. Also, since a lot of people have also been guessing, everyone seemed to be on equal footing, whether they studied or not. hence, many of those who really prepared for the exam, and a number of intelligent people didn't make it. and a lot of those who barely prepared for the exams passed, with plain luck in guessing on their side.

That's why I don't look down on those who didn't pass. I know a lot of them are intelligent. And I know that they would be good doctors. it's just that in the lottery that they call the Physician Licensure Exam, wherein luck is a very big factor, they weren't lucky enough to win. I even feel a bit guilty for being so happy, knowing that some close friends of mine didn't make it. It kinda seems wrong to celebrate.

***

now I have to look at the grueling journey ahead. I haven't really decided on which path I should take. A few more years in residency, plus a few more in fellowship. The actual journey has only begun.

*groan*

in the meantime, i'll drown myself in pure bliss. Just for a few days, then I'll get back to business and plan for the grueling journey ahead.

Butterflies in my Stomach

I haven't felt this way for a very long time. It was the same feeling that I used to feel when I have to perform alone in front of a large audience... to act, to sing, or deliver a speech. Or when I was a contestant in one of those quiz bowls and I felt so conscious because everyone would see me fail miserably... which was often the case because I gave in to pressure. The pressure was too great. Stage fright. I wanted to back out, but I knew that I can't.

I've been aloof and indifferent for the past few months when everyone seems to be panicking already. But just now, I suddenly feel queasy. nauseous. I have butterflies in my stomach. I seem to be on the brink of stress incontinence too. This feeling was all too familiar, though it wasn't since high school when I last felt this way.

After more than two months of studying, I have finished. It seems that I'm not used to studying anymore, since I've been moving at a snail's pace... but I have to study everything again, briskly this time, since i seem to have forgotten a lot of those things that I have studied. This is incredibly frustrating. And to make matters worse, I only have five days--- ONLY 5 DAYS(!!!!) left for review, and I can say that I have never been more unprepared for an exam in my whole life. Those who have taken the exam say that one can never be really prepared for that exam, that you can't really study for it, you won't find the answers in the reviewers, that it all boils down to luck and prayer. They say that for comfort, i guess. but it's making me panic instead of easing my nerves.

The pressure is so great, I don't think I can bear not passing the exam.I hope when I update my blog 2 weeks from now, when the results finally come out, I'll get to post something positive.