Before Going to War

Here i go again with my weird analogies. lol. I'm not actually going to any real war.



Yesterday, we had our orientation for the pre-residency program at the PGH depatment of surgery. From 51 original applicants, there were only 23 of us left. 8 more people would be cut off for there were only 15 slots available for residency. I don't know if I'll feel sad or relieved if I won't make the final cut. hehe. I have really mixed feelings about this. Dread. Anticipation. Fear. Excitement. Apprehension.

Our schedule seemd to be lifted form hell. Everyday, we have to report by 4 AM. If ever we can go home (which would be rarely), we can go home by 9PM to 10 PM. Now imagine how we have to report back by 4 AM. I'm assigned to the trauma section for the next 2 weeks, and since we'll be on call everytime, I doubt if I would be able to go home for 2 weeks. I doubt if i'll even get much sleep. An hour a day seems optimistic. I probably won't have time to take a bath either. lol. It was especially hot at the ER yesterday--- that's where I'll be most of the time. I could melt away and die. hehe. I just hope my seniors won't expect too much. Tomorrow, I would probably feel lost.

Since the oathtaking would take up my whole day today (because I'll sleep immediately afterwards), technically, yesterday was my last free day, the day before going to war. I finally cleaned up my room... I'd hate to leave it in such a mess. I finally kept those review books that were still scattered all around. Finally picked up my white blazer--- which had an odd fit... or maybe I'm just not used to wearing one. :) Checked my mail, emailed a few friends. Paid my bills. Took a nice long bath (hehe). Got a haircut, back to short hair again. And finally, I went to the gym for one final time (at least for a month).

On the way home, I decided to take the jeepney, which always puts me in a pensive mood. Bad idea. The traffic was moving so slowly, and it was hot inside--- an environment not condusive for deep thinking. Then as if the heat wasn't enough, out of the blue, a quarrel was brewing right before my eyes. I'm not sure if there were pertinent events that happened before I rode the jeepney, but from what I observed, the 2 snooty passengers seated across from me started it. The driver merely asked them where they rode the jeepney, and where they will be dropped off. The old lady gave her answer, but with a certain intonation and an added remark, which roughly translated to "any complaints?" The driver seemed pissed off, which I thought was understandable. He said he asked them nicely, he didn't deserve such an answer. A previous passenger didn't pay him enough fare, so he's asking each passenger those questions. I didn't mind though, i thought it was standard procedure. But the old lady remarked that they wouldn't shortchange him because they had a lot of money. wow! that's one snooty old lady. The driver answered back, then the old lady's daughter (or maybe grandchild) kept saying "shut up shut up". The old lady began talking in english also. Geez, what snobbery. When conversing with a local who obviously only knows the local dialect, answering in english is the sure fire way to show that you're better than him. Typical snobbery. Voices were getting louder, almost shouting. The lady then threatened to kill the driver if he won't shut up. She was even making certain actions, taunting the driver to try and hurt her, then she would kill him. Er--- O-kay. I wanted to tell her to shut up. If they fought, there was no way she and her daughter would survive. Naturally, the driver got pissed and almost reached for the woman, but his wife, who was seated beside him, stopped him. She then pleaded with the snooty passengers to stop it, thy were the ones who started the whole thing in the first place. They still continued taunting. The driver was getting something from his pocket, which looked like a pocket knife, but his wife stopped him. This was war alright, which could turn bloody. I thought I would be exposed to trauma 2 days early! After a few minutes everyone calmed down. But when the 2 snooty passengers were about to get off, the driver suddenly pressed his foot on the acceleration, so the two of them fell. This pissed them off. The old lady shouted curses, that the driver would die tonight. Her daughter lunged at the driver pulling his hair, and slapped his wife hard on the cheeks, which was uncalled for. The wife was trying to be mediator between them, for Christ's sake! I thought it was over since the jeepney moved forward--- I thought the driver would actually go down and stab the 2 women. We were again caught in a traffic jam a few meters forward, then from the distance, I saw three policemen approaching, accompanied by the 2 pissed off former passengers. You can hear them shouting from miles away. Such ingrating high pitched voices. The policemen apprehended the driver, and wanted him to go to the nearby jail with them, so he can explain his side of the story there. I believe the driver shouldn't have pressed his foot on the acceleration just when the 2 ladies were getting off--- those ladies could have been seriously injured after all, but the way the policemen talked to the driver, it was as if he was the only guilty party. If I was the driver, after spending all day in a hot jeepney, earning so little, not even enough to live decently... and then 2 snooty passeners showed up, flamboyantly showing that they're way above me--- I would've done something worse to those bitchy ladies. And my co-passengers seemed to agree with me. From what we saw, The two ladies started it, and they continually aggravated the situation. WHat was done to them was something they did deserve. One of my co-passengers tried explaining this to the police, but apparently they were not interested. We were in the old lady's neighborhood after all, their territory. I would safely assume that they will be found innocent, they will be INNOCENT victims ... and the jeepney driver will be found guilty as charged.

I didn't get a refund--- although I was still far from home, I chose to walk instead. Added exercise would be good for me. Besides, they need the spare change I gave them more than I do. What little money I gave could mean so much.

That seems to be the order in this world. When there is peace, naturally there will be war. When there is prosperity, there will definitely be poverty. When there is love, naturally there will be hate.

Many times I have wondered... is this part of God's plan? For every good, there is something bad, for every positive, there is a corresponding negative? Why?

Why can't we all just get along?

The Rumour Mill

... it keeps on grinding and grinding, churning and churning.



Funny how almost every single person on this planet finds rumors interesting. Rumors are like sweet little concotions, inherently magnetic, impossible to resist. It's also funny how a person who always tries to keep a low profile, who minds his own business, can still fall victim to stupid rumors. Yeah, I'm talking about myself here.

I have been the subject of nasty rumors for years now, and often those rumors are just recyled, rearing their ugly heads every now and then. What rumors, you say? They say that I'm a drug addict, that I'm taking steroids, that I'm some sort of maniac, that i'm a rumor monger myself, that I'm some gay's boyfriend, that I do something nasty with gays in exchange for something, and oh yeah, let's not forget my most favorite rumor of all, that I'm gay myself.

Let's pretend that we're in court and I'm on trial on the stand--- I shall now defend myself from all those stupid allegations. That drug addict thing started when I was persistently thin, and surfaced again when I lost a lot of weight. Okay, I have tried a few prohibited types of drugs occasionally, different kinds, sporadically. But it's not like I got addicted to any of them. I took them socially... or out of curiosity. I was persistently thin back in grade school and high school because I didn't eat much when I'm in school. I used my allowance to buy videogames and videogame magazines instead. And I lost a lot of weight during clerkship and internship because of the work load! Plus I didn't get to eat much because there are times when I didn't get to eat for a day! There was no time to eat at all! Funny how fellow clerks and interns spread such rumors, it's not like they don't know how much work we are given.

When i started gaining weight in college and med school, people started assuming that I have been taking steriod. WTF?! You really can't please everyone! Whether you've lost or gained weight, those losers will talk about you! i gained weight because I started eating in school, and I ate more when I got home. Plus, I started going to the gym, more on body building exercises than cardiovascular exercises. So there.

There are some people who say I'm a sex maniac, that I'm a pervert, because I have such a filthy mouth,because I know a lot about sex, because I'm addicted to porn... First of all, just because I have a porn collection, that doesn't make me addicted to porn. I mean, is there actually a normal guy out there who doesn't have a porn collection?! I may have more porn than some guys, but that doesn't make me a maniac. I guess i do have a filthy mouth--- I got it from friends who have filty mouths. It's like some contagious disease. And I know a lot about sex because of them too--- my knowledge is a mixture of their knowledge and my knowledge, our collective experiences, so to speak. So what if I know a lot? that doesn't mean I'd go out and rape the first person I see. And it's not like I have a craving for sex. Besides, I can derive pleasure by myself, without anyone's help. That doesn't make me a pervert either. If that's the case, then all men in this planet are perverts.

There are those who say I'm a rumor monger, that it's just karma that I'm often a victim of rumors. Doesn't it follow that if I'm often a victim a rumors, i would not be spreading rumors because I know exactly how it feels to be a victim of rumors? One only needs common sense to realize that! Clearly a lot of stupid people don't even have common sense. Yeah, I know a lot of stuff about people--- because i have a lot of friends who are quite informative, and I can't help it if they keep on divulging information about other people to me. And it's not like i spread those rumors that they tell me. If it's about something that seems to be common knowledge anyway, then I'll tell the rumor if someone asks me about it. And you can ask my close friends--- if they've told me a secret, I would bury that secret deep within me, and I'll carry it to my death. I know a lot of my friend's secrets, and I have never told another soul about them. And those secrets are those deadly ones--- when they come out, those secrets would probably destroy their lives. That's why I really hate it when someone accuses me of being a gossip. I absolutely hate gossips, and i'll definitely hate myself if i turn into one of them.

I have had relationships with gays? I've had isolated sexual experiences with gays? I have close gay friends alright, and I have a very close gay friend. Hey, She's one of my best friends! That doesn't mean I've had relationship with them, nor does that mean I've had sex with them! Can't a straight guy be plain friends with a gay guy? Does it really follow that there's something sexual happening? If a guy is close with a girl, people won't assume that something sexual is involved. How come if a guy is friends with a gay guy, people jump to conclusions?! Maybe it could happen with other straight guy-gay guy friendships, but not with me. but I guess I really can't blame most people... when I see some guy with a gay guy, I initially assume the same thing. I guess it's human nature to jump to such conclusions. Of course it didn't help that some stupid faggot started spreading rumors that I was his boyfriend when we were in college. And some crazy faggot spread the same rumor in med school. Geez, what are the chances of such a thing happening twice in a lifetime?!

Something related to those rumors is the rumor that I'm a gay guy myself. I asked a few close friends about it, and they say it's not like I act gay... It's all the other rumors floating around that makes people assume. And the topic itself is interesting, so it's persistent. After all, "What rumors spread like wildfire?", they asked. For girls, if they're pregnant, and for guys, if they're gay! My friends even find it funny when they imagine me being gay. A gay guy with a very deep voice, with robotic actions, with no finesse at all, who has no fashion sense, who can live without taking a shower, who goes to strip joints, who's such a slob, with such a filthy room. Haha. Haha. Haha. only I don't find it funny. They say it's the rumors that those 2 faggots spread before, that I was their boyfriend--- a lot of gullible people actually believed them. With their very detailed stories of imagined events, who wouldn't? The second one most especially, who invented stories about our numerous sexual encounters, our first kiss, where we go on dates, how I was in bed, how my sexual organ looked like, how we broke up, and how I began stalking him and his new boyfriend afterwards. God, just thinking about it makes me sick! I really wanted to beat him to pulp back then! How can any sane person invent such stories about someone?! Those 2 fags must be lunatics! They should be caged in an asylum! Wishful thinking by crazy loons!

There are also many instances when some insecure guy would tell people that I was gay--- A common defense mechanism by ugly, good for nothing losers, for them to cope up or to focus some attention toward themselves. One of those losers is even a resident now at the department of surgery, so I won't be surprised if the rumors resurface if I decide to work there. Also, Some people who got mad at me seemed to think that it's a natural way to get back at a guy by telling people he's gay. Wow, That's really mature. Also the fact that I was often with my close gay friend back in college fueled the rumors. We watched movies, ate out, and I even took naps at her apartment at times. So what? I can do the same things with my male and female friends, and rumors won't start flowing. And i won't sacrifice our friendship just to save my reputation. My friendship with her is more important than any stranger's perception of me. It's that valuable, real friends are so hard to find. If that's how they think, then to hell with them.

My friends also say that rumors also started during the long gap between my two ex-girlfriends. I was single for almost 4 long years, and that was when people started talking. They say it's impossible for others to think that a good looking guy (sic) who seems to have everything (sic), who has so many admirers, some of whom even give blatant proposals, could actually stay single unless he's gay. What a narrow minded conclusion! I guess it's also human nature to come to such an assumption, but did it ever occur to them that I'm awfully shy when it comes to courting girls? And I didn't really like any of those admirers?! And that I didn't want to jump into another relationship because i was traumatized by the fact that my ex girlfriend was two timing me?! And when I finally found the girl I liked, she still had a boyfriend?! I'm not even counting the months when I was left hanging, waiting for a definite response from her!

I guess I can't stop people from talking... it must be human nature to talk about other people to divert attention from themselves, to distract people from seeing their own faults. Maybe it's even human nature to bring others down, to bring down people who seem better and more interesting. If only I can control people's tongues and stop them from wagging. I've learned to be indifferent, that's the only way to cope. i've learned not to care anymore. To those strangers who keep spreading rumors--- they can shoot themselves in the head for all I care. To hell with those losers. THey are nothing to me. It just hurts when people whom you call your friends, people that you trust, would participate in such rumors. Friends like those, I can live without.

To those friends who defend me from any rumor, you guys are one of God's most precious gifts to me.

To those people who call themselves my friends, yet participate in spreading rumors about me--- A BIG F*CK YOU TO ALL OF YOU. With friends like you, I have no more need for enemies. I've had enough of back stabbers.

And to those millions of people who derive pleasure from spreading rumors--- Go screw yourselves instead of prying on other people's lives. Your lives must be really pathetic to even think the lives of others are more worthy of your attention. If you stopped prying at the lives of others and instead start focusing on your own, you could start fixing your own lives, then maybe you won't be such BIG LOSERS.

I hope karma strikes, so that all of you losers would feel how it is to be victims of such rumors.

That's quite impossible though, wishful thinking on my part.

After all, who the heck would want to talk about STUPID LOSERS like yourselves?

TECHNICAL EMERGENCY !!!!

My laptop has been erratic these past few days. For the first time, the dreaded blue screen appeared last saturday--- and I used to think that blue screen was only a myth. I ignored it at first, thinking it was an isolated event. Then that damn blue screen appeared later that day again. It said "error reading from disk drive", or something to that effect. The audio also became garbled, it was a pain listening to my MP3s. Playing videos made my eyes sore. It was taking forever to load programs and documents, numerous error reports popped up! And the system hanged several times, even if I only had one program open! Christ, after going through more than 2 years of abuse, my notebook is giving up on me! Still, I was indifferent most of the time, becoming just a bit worried when those error messages showed up. Then another blue screen appeared, saying something like system failure imminent... and it advised that I back up all data because they're in danger of becoming lost. BECOMING LOST?! WTF?! That was when I pressed the panic button. Ive heard a lot of stories from friends wherein their computers suddenly crashed without warning, and they lost important documents, including treasured pictures and videos. I never thought such a thing could actually happen to me! Argh! The follies of modern technology! Stupid me! I should have recognized the urgency of the situation before it reached this stage! All signs were pointing to disaster, I should've anticipated this... I should have done those preventive measures days ago! I've put so much trust in my laptop, it never occured to me that the damn thing would give up on me in the future! Now I'm like a madman, burning all important files on CD roms, keeping my fingers crossed that my laptop won't bog down until I have finish backing up all data! As I'm creating this entry using our desktop PC, I'm praying that the stupid CD writer on my laptop won't break down--- it has been acting up for weeks, not being able to finish burning CDs, even though I've been using perfectly good CD-Rs.. I should've gotten a DVD writer years ago, then backing up all those important data would be faster.

Files from med school, all those resources that I'll probably still need in the future... those hard to find programs, some obsolete but I still find useful... all those digital pictures and videos that I keep scanning everytime I'm feeling blue or just plain bored... my collection of short stories and poems that took days to transfer from handwritten words in my old notebook, to the typewritten form... those MP3s now taking up 10 GB of space on my hard drive, that took 20-30 minutes each to download back when I was still on dial up... music videos from my favorite artists that took 3-4 hours to download back when I was still on dial up. hehe. and of course... treasured porn files, 9 gigabytes of hidden pictures and videos that I have been collecting since 1998. LOL.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed... I haven't faced an emergency situation for months, and this has really caught me off guard! My trusted laptop can't give up on me! --- at least not yet!

Hurray for eBay!

For a change, I finally have something happy to post... This is going to be a HAPPY entry! Woohoo! a complete contrast to all that doom and gloom and despair that I've been posting lately. :)



My quest in finding a copy of "The Killing Joke" has finally come to an end! after checking out dozens of different bookstores and comic book shops in different malls all over the metropolis, and still returning home in vain, I tried to do a search in eBay. There's actually one copy being sold! At a very cheap price! And the copy, although used, is allegedly in mint condition! Sweet!!! Though I was ready to purchase the item immediately, I tried to control myself... There are a lot of "Jokers" (hehe) out there after all. The item displayed on the photographs seems good as new, but what if the picture was altered? What if the item pictured was not the actual item? what if the actual item looked liked trash?! I'm a bit of an obsessive -compulsive person when it comes to purchasing items... I have to make sure that whatever it is I'm buying, they have to be in good condition. Okay, except for clothes. I rarely check clothes that i'm buying, I just want to finish the whole ordeal as soon as possible, so a lot of my clothes have minor damages. hehe.

So I contacted the seller, and he swears that the item is really in good condition, and he agreed to meet me so I can check the item personally. If I didn't like it, then I didn't have to buy it. I still had a problem: his preferred drop off points are far from my place. I told him I'm from the south, so he suggested that we meet at a place that is actually very near my house! He must have thought I lived waaaaaaaay down south! lol. The deal was getting sweeter and sweeter! I clicked the "purchase now" button. I can't afford to have anyone beat me to it. So what if I paid more by skipping the bidding process? I was willing to pay triple anyway! lol. Me and my compulsions... I'm basically a scrooge, but for certain things, I act as if I have money to burn.

Now I've just finished reading it and... I guess I got my money's worth, it's considered a classic after all. But the thing was too damn short! And what's with that ending?! It's a nice short story though... though I can't see all those symbolisms and social relevance and social commentaries that every fan seemed to be making a big deal of. I mean, what was all that fuss about? I guess i'd have to read it again, when I'm not sleepy and tired. One can't think of symbolisms when his body already wants to shut down. hehe.

Now my quest begins for a good copy of Sandman: The Kindly Ones. My rapid speed in collecting the Sandman graphic novels was abruptly halted when I couldn't find a copy of the next volume. Argh!!! I'd like to have a copy of Watchmen, too --- but I'm not talking about those ridiculously overpriced Absolute Editions. My compulsions haven't altered my senses that much. hehe.

The Sound of Her Wings

Funny how death comes to people who embrace life, and how death plays coy to people who are sick and tired of the chance at life.

Rotating at the obstetrics and gynecology department was memorable for me, because the patients I have encountered there are extra friendly, and they seem to be more comfortable with sharing their lives to others. They would talk about their dreams and ambitions, their success and failures. In the ward for trophoblastic diseases, wherein the patients have been hospitalized for months, every patient knows my name, because one of the patients there kept referring to me as her future husband, and talks about me incessantly, according to the other patients. They seem to look forward to each time I was on solo duty at the ward. All the teasing and catcalls seem to brighten up the otherwise gloomy place. I didn't mind though, I was glad to bring a little amusement into their lives, even if i wasn't actively participating in such amusement. One of the patients there was placed in the isolation room. She had choriocarcinoma with vaginal metastasis, and was bleeding profusely. She was immunocompromised, but the main reason why she was placed in isolation was because of the foul odor resulting from her disease, which was unpleasant to the other patients. The smell of decaying fish filled the small room. I didn't mind the stench though, I got used to far worse odors. Decaying flesh on a live human smells worse. Her husband and I were her sole connection to the outside world. She was just admitted the previous day. She had been doctor shopping for about a year, and she was only given the correct diagnosis when she sought consult at PGH. She was admitted and scheduled for operation, but it seemed that it was too late. If she was admitted earlier in the course of her disease, the prognosis wouldn't have been as bad. I guess she has grown weary of speaking to her husband who was always at her bedside, so she kept on talking to me every time I would check on her. She really seemed interested in my life, with questions about what I do, my life in med school, my family, my friends, my life outside the hospital... and she talked about her life, her occupation, her family, her children, and how her illness has altered their family's life. She was perenially on blood transfusion,so I have to check for reactions, and she was always bleeding, from minimal to profuse, that i have to insert a thick roll of gauze into her vagina every now and then because it was always soaked. The process was painful, I can see it in her face. But she trusted me, she knew I was doing what was needed to be done. She was confident that her operation the next day would be successful, that she would be well afterwards, good as new. She would continue her life, and there are a lot of things that she still wanted to do. I didn't have the heart to tell her about the prognosis. For the whole night, I was practically at her bedside, leaving only to monitor other patients in the ward, or if another patient needed something. After two days, I was stationed at the post anesthesia care unit, and I didn't even recognize her until I saw her name on the chart. She was a very thin woman when I was with her two nights before, and the woman bearing her same name who was comatose on the bed before me looked grossly overweight at first glance. She was bloated beyond recognition because of edema. I knew she would pass away soon... her pupils were slowly reactive, and her Glasgow Coma Scale score was consistently 3, which was the lowest GCS one can have. She died the next day. apparently, her body wasn't strong enough to withstand the stress from the operation. She had so much to live, and she desperately wants to cling on to the life that was taken from her.

I remember the patient I posted on a previous entry last May. She too transferred from doctor to doctor, and she was only diagnosed correctly in PGH. What was sad was she was seen at the OPD, and they kept sending her home instead of admitting her. She was admitted when it was too late. Her abdomen was grossly enlarged due to massive ascites, and she was very cachexic. i think she was admitted because she could hardly breath. I first encountered her in the admitting section, and she was begging me to cure her--- to save her life. She was subsequently assigned to me at the ward, and I had to assist in her operation. At that late stage, she would either die any moment from the illness or from the stress of operation, so it wouldn't hurt to try to operate on her. Before she was given anesthesia, she kept holding my hand, still begging me to cure her, telling me she has so much to live for, she had many children still depending on her. She told me that she would've stayed home if she could, but her body can no longer stand the pain. She trusted our capabilities and she believed we can save her. She kept saying those words and she seemed to be delirious already. I just stood by her side. Everytime I look into her eyes, her eyes showing desperation, as if begging for mercy, i try to fight back tears. I had so much pity for this woman. Death was very near for her. How can death come to such a person, who wants to live so much that she seemed to be begging for her life, as if her life was in our hands? A such a late stage, her life was in God's hands already. I kept thinking how those doctors assigned at the out patient department kept on sending her home, as they saw her disease progress. Why did they wait until the last minute? I kept thinking how incompetent or uncaring they were, and I was brewing with anger. 14 liters of ascites was drained, and the metastasis from her ovarian cancer was extensive. Her whole peritoneum was littered with metastasis, and so were her liver, spleen, pancreas, bladder, and intestines. There was no way she was going to live. I though she would make it, at least for a few more days because she was conversant the next day when I saw her in the post anesthesia care unit. I was wrong--- she passed away the next day.

Each day I saw a lot of other souls in the hospital like these patients, in all the other wards--- begging for dear life, yet death so stubbornly, still took it away from them.

In my life beyond the walls of the hospital, I have witnessed the work of death when a close friend of mine died 5 years ago. How I miss her. She was such good company, incredibly perky and always smiling, full of life and vigor, that she never failed to brighten up my day even when I was feeling so down. Even with so much problems, she never hated her life, saying there was so much in life that she should be happy for. Such a positive outlook was contagious. Even when she became pregnant out of wedlock, she took it in stride. Even when her family practically disowned her, she still looked at the bright side. Even with her problems with her good for nothing boyfriend, she just though of it as small bumps in the road called life. Then unexpectedly, one day, I heard she died in a car accident, not long after she gave birth. I still regret how I never came to her funeral, with the excuse that the place was too far and I had no means of transportation, that I might get lost, that I found no one to accompany me because she had a different set of friends --- God, I was such a baby back then. Giving such pathetic excuses still haunts me to this day. I didn't cry for her then, maybe because of shock and disbelief. Now i'm wondering why i'm fighting back belated tears as I remember her now. The fact that I never saw her in a casket seems comforting... it creates this illusion that my good friend is still alive somewhere, that I can still see her in the future.

On the other hand, there are people who view life as nothing, who think there's nothing to live for. When I rotated in the psychiatric department, I encountered a lot of patients who have had several suicide attempts. It's funny how death does not give her gift to those who seek it. When talking to them, they talk of hopelessness, loneliness, a life not worth living. They can't see the good things in life, they fail to see the positive things, or they just blatantly ignore the beauty of life. It can be puzzling to others how such people can exist... how such people like me can exist.

Not that I've ever actually attempted suicide, but I have been filled with suicidal thoughts a few years back. I had such trivial reasons. I wanted to die after a big fight with my family, or with my past girlfriend. I wanted to die after getting a low grade in an exam. And the most pathetic reason of all, i wanted to die just because I was late for class. Other reasons seemed to have a semblance of validity--- when I had problems that seem insurmountable, when I've done something really wrong, and my conscience kept on bothering me. I didn't talk about my problems with my friends, because i'm the type of person who chooses to keep his problems to himself. Others may think of my problems as trivial, and they would probably think of me as a lunatic when I talk about suicidal ideations. I don't think anyone knew, for I always put on a mask of happiness or indifference. I rarely showed a face of sadness and despair. I kept on thinking of ways to take my life. I thought of jumping from the roof of a building. I even thought of jumping from the roof of my house which was four stories high. The only thing that stopped me was the realization that i would probably still live, albeit with multiple fractures. I though of drowning myself in the bathroom, locking the door so it will be too late when they've found out what i have done. I though of hanging myself, but I can't find the right spot... our wooden ceiling would probably collapse, foiling my plan. I thought of using my grandfather's gun and shoot myself in the head, right through the roof of my mouth, or at the side of my temple... or use one huge, sharp kitchen knife and stab myself in the heart, because the more gory and the more bloody, the better. it would be more dramatic, it would create a lasting impact. But I eventually chickened out because I was afraid of the pain. I thought of driving my car at top speed and crashing it into a wall, but i didn't want such an expensive way of dying. Maybe I could wait at the sidewalk beside the free way, and just when a speeding bus is approaching, i would throw myself in front of it. What could be more dramatic than appearing on the news the next day? Such thoughts clouded my mind for years, and thankfully I have never made actual attempts to make such thoughts a reality. There were times when I would lock myself in a room, a nervous wreck, contemplating if I should go on with my plan, thinking about it for hours, even all night... I just lie on my bed silently contemplating. I thought there was no reason for living. Just pulling the plug was so tempting. When I was clouded with problems, it was tempting to take the easy way out. I kept hearing the sound of death's wings as she approaches, which seemed to seduce me into accepting her gift, the sound of her wings has a calming and soothing effect, promising that everything will be all right afterwards, that every pain would go away. Sometimes when I'm really ill, i would wish that she would approach me, to worsen the disease, to take my breath, and eventually take my miserable life with her. But in the end, I wasn't brave enough to accept her gift. I would drown myself in alcohol to numb the pain instead. Those poems about death that I've written somewhat served as an outlet. Thoughts of the afterlife also scare me. What if the myth of heaven and hell are true? With the way I've run my life, I would most probably suffer eternal damnation--- I'd rather delay the process by living in my own hell on earth in the meantime. If only I was sure that after death comes nothing, that everything would just go away, i would have probably pulled the plug years ago.

Maybe because i'm older now, or various added experiences have altered my perception of life... I no longer dwell on such suicidal thoughts. I've learned to see the beauty of life. There's so much to be happy about, every problem will eventually come to pass. One just needs to change his or her outlook in life, to focus on the good things and not on the bad things. i have so much to live for and be thankful for. God has given me so much, that I am better off than most. Even though there are a lot of detractors and rumor mongers floating around, I have great friends who are always there for me. I've realized that despite their many faults, I have a great family who loves me and will support me all the way. I am given everything that is needed. i know that i would cause deep sorrow to a number of people if I took my life away. It would be easier if I was really alone, maybe that's why suicide is easy for others --- If I was alone, taking my life would only affect myself, and no other people. I do not want to inflict pain to others, only to myself. Because there are times when I still hear the sound of her wings, teasing me, tempting me with her gift. i just wish my desire for her gift won't overcome the beauty that I now see in life, for despair can cloud one's vision. The sound of death's wings are ignored my others, despised by many... but the soothing sound that it makes can be hypnotizing at times, making one fall into a sweet trance. The sound can be magnetizing at certain times, at the right moment, at the right time --- at least for someone who tends to dwell in misery...

like me.

Stupefied

I just took the entrance exam for residency training in surgery at PGH this morning. I'm not getting my hopes up. The exam was hard (or maybe because I didn't prepare for it?), and I saw a lot of applicants who are more intelligent than I am. Goodbye PGH, hello hospitals wherein only mediocre physicians apply! Years ago, I would have been confident, but presently, I've lost a lot of that confidence.

Way back in high school, I was what some would call a nerd. I wasn't associated with that word initially. During my freshman and sophomore years, although I was at the top of the class, I was never called a nerd. Sure, my classmates would always come to me first for help with academic stuff, but on other aspects, I was treated as their equal. Then on my junior year, when I became part of the honor's class, the word nerd became associated with me, as if it was some sort of stigma given to people who are part of that class. My past friends and classmates bgan to treat me differently, although I was the same person. We were treated as the others. For those who don't know me personally, since they know that I'm part of the honor's class, I was a nerd--- though people close to me know that I'm far from the stereotypical image associated with that word. The image stuck as I moved up in rank, until I was part of the top ten of the whole batch. I guess that boosted my confidence, that anything acamdemic would be a piece of cake. The fact that those IQ tests given yearly show that I have a superior IQ further made me confident. High school academics, for me, was a breeze. i got accepted in all universities that I applied. I was accepted in my choice of courses for each university, and I expected that. One university even kept on calling me to tranfer to their school a month after the school year has started. That was one ego boost.

I don't practice ideal study habits, really. For as long as I can remember, I have always been a crammer. I usually study the night before an exam--- 2 nights before would be a maximum. But I guess I had no choice back in high school since we have quizzes every other day. And when the finals came, I won't really be cramming even when i study only the night before, since I have already read the topics at least once.

In college, I still had high grades during the first two years. But when i reached third year, I grew tired of it all. I began to see the course I was taking as something boring. I thought there was more to life than grades. I joined a lot of organizations, I went to a lot of parties, i drank a lot--- I seem to be living life to the fullest. I prioritized other things. The fact that a number of people thought of me as part of the "cool" group, and that I looked good made me glad. No one saw me as a nerd, i seem to have shaken off that image in this new place. Some people even though of me as stupid, but I didn't care. I thought being perceived as stupid was better than being perceived as a nerd. yeah, my grades suffered. I seem to be contented by just getting passing grades. I would always tell myself that it doesn't matter if I only have passing grades, I'm still studying at the top university in the country. There's this mentality that an average student in that university would be a top student at other schools since academics are much more difficult. I believed in that false mentality, and I succumbed to mediocrity. Still, I didn't care. The fact that cramming was not as effective hurt my grades too. In high school, I have studied the topics already before I take the finals because of all those quizzes. In college, frequently there are only final exams, so I get to read the topics only once. And with such short term memory, I forgot easily.

But my grades during the first two years pulled my average up. Especially in math... thank God fo that subject. I didn't even have to study and I can get perfect scores, while may people found it difficult. I wonder if I should have chosen that field, so I would be doing something I'm good at--- I would be proud of my work. With what i'm doing now, I seem so... mediocre.

I got accepted at all the medical schools that i applied to, except for one. It was understandable. They accept only few students at that med school, and I expected a lot of students would have higher grades than me with the way I screwed up my last two years in college. But I was still proud that my grades were high enough that I made it to the interview. I found comfort in the thought that if I only studied harder, I would surely get accepted. In the other med schools though, I was accepted with no problems. I was on the initial list of accepted applicants, not in wait lists.

The curriculum was problem based, which made me even more lax. There was so much free time--- free time that i'd rather spend doing anything else but to study.I still studied for an exam the night before, but with such a wide coverage for each exam, frequently I don't finish my readings. It's therefore amazing that I never failed an exam. I was proud of that fact, owing it to testmanship. i found solace with the thought that if I really studied, I would surely get high grades--- and I did, during those few modules that I found interesting, so I really studied. Most modules, however, were a big bore for me.

During internship, the big blow to my ego happened when I failed the oral exam on the first try, which seemed really simple that I never expected it. Then I had a really low grade during the final exam in medicine--- my score was on the bottom 10%! I never experienced getting such a low grade, even when I'm not studying! That was my first reality check. Maybe I wasn't as bright as i thought I was... or at least not as bright as before. i used to believe that I was still intelligent, i just wasn't studying enough. I believed that if I studied, I would still excel. But at times, I did study hard, but I still can't achieve what I have achieved before. It seems that with years of misuse and disuse, my brain has failed me and I have actually become stupid.

This week, I found out that I had a really low grade in the Board Exams. Yeah I know it doesn't matter what the grade is, what matters is that I passed--- but I can't help but feel a bit down. I almost failed, for crying out loud! okay, i'm exaggerating. But the fact remains that it's really a low score. Some have said that it's not a low score, but it's a low score for me because i'm not used to getting such grades. I don't care about grades of other people, I just compare my grades to myself--- my past self to be exact. Even though I was really scared before the results came out, because I found several portions very hard, and I wasn't fully prepared... i was still pretty sure that i would pass, because the final grade would be based on percentiles, and so far, with the law of averages, I would almost always manage to get an above average score. In the past, even if at times I never got to study, I never failed an exam --- maybe because I had enough stock knowledge. I have always been bound by the illusion that even without much effort, I can get higher grades than most. I could say i wasn't really prepared because I didn't really finish my readings during my review for the boards, but i know that reason won't suffice. What was really needed in answering the board exam questions is a great amount of stock knowledge. I was accepted in all the top universities in the country even if I didn't study for those entrance exams because I had a great deal of knowledge in stock. I can say the same when I took the national medical admission test. Because I had a great deal of stock knowledge, I reached the 98th percentile even if I did not study for it, and even if I didn't finish answering one portion. But with the haphazard studying I did in med school, no wonder I had limited stock knowledge now. I simply studied the night before, using short term memory for each exam, and forgetting all the knowledge afterwards. I seemed to have retained only the common concepts that were reiterated again and again so it stuck. With such limited stock knowledge, i wonder if I can be a good doctor. As of now, I seem to be very unprepared for this profession. I'm afraid to deal with patients on my own, for i would probably screw up. I'm in a profession where i'm not that good at, where I seem to be mediocre at best. At times, I wonder if I should have chosen a profession where I can use my skills in math. I may find the work boring, but I would be doing an excellent job. Now it seems even that skill has gone rusty. I find math problems difficult now, and i can't seem to recall and comprehend certain concepts, probably because of all these years of not using my skills in math. Now it seems that I'm not good at anything. Average at most, to being mediocre. What a downer.

Come to think of it, I'd rather be seen as a nerd who's uncool, than to be seen as someone who's cool but stupid. I wish I could turn back time. How wrong i was back then.

One shouldn't be ashamed when one is called a nerd--- one should take it as a compliment.

Being called a nerd is something to be proud of.

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.

Encore

ILLUSIONS

you kept saying you loved me
though you didn't know what it meant
you said I was all that you wanted
yet you made me change things that I can't

it wasn't love that was in your heart...
infatuation, maybe
it wasn't love that you felt
a mere illusion... possibly

you said one thing, yet you did another
we seemed to be only using each other
you said you've endured so much pain all those years
but those weren't real emotions, nor were those genuine tears

you never saw how things were through my eyes
i remained clueless, to what was real and what were lies
you thought I felt nothing, that I never even tried
each time you said that, deep inside I cried

you wanted more than I could give
though you knew the limits of what I could do
if you took me as I am
you'd have seen what i've sacrificed for you

you made me do things I never thought I could do
you gave me so much, yet I never had a clue
for we were riddled with confusion, and the distance grew
all those trials and storms were so hard to subdue

it wasn't all pain... deep inside i know
i say it was all hurt, so it's easier to let go
for beneath all those lies, at least one thing was true
love was the feeling that I used to feel for you

7/29/06


---------------------

I haven't written a poem in 4 years. I don't know why, I just suddenly stopped, when I used to write poems and short stories about anything under the sun on almost a weekly basis. It's one of the things i used to do on my free time, starting way back in grade school. I've posted some of those poems in one of my entries last May. The last poem that i wrote is the last one posted on that entry. Of all possible times, I had the sudden inspiration to write that while we were dissecting a cadaver. hehe. For some unknown reason, I just thought of this possible scenario wherein a girl has been taking some guy for granted--- some guy who's totally infatuated with her, and she knows it... so she starts taking advantage of the situation. And when she realizes her mistakes, when she realizes she loves that man after all, it's already too late. The man is now a cold corpse. The poem is about their final encounter at the morgue... I know, I had a pretty wild imagination back then. lol.

Maybe I just outgrew the habit of writing poems. Maybe I just didn't have time, going through med school and all that. But yesterday, I suddenly picked up my pen and started writing words... and the words just flowed. Maybe it was the weather, all cool and rainy, conducive to creative thoughts. or maybe it's the emotional blur that I have been feeling lately, looking for another outlet. The end product is the one posted above... seems a bit flimsy and amateurish... I guess I've grown rusty, I haven't been writing poems for a very long time after all. :)

A Big Joke?

Various websites have reported that Heath Ledger has been cast as the Joker in the upcoming Batman Begins sequel. Even though those websites are legitimate, I'm hoping it's jus a rumor. I have nothing against Heath Ledger, but it's one very odd casting choice. It's one thing that he looks nothing like the Joker--- tons of make-up and special effects can take care of that. People have been saying the same thing about Christian Bale as Batman, and look how great he turned out. And if they plan to do a Joker Origin story as the main plot, when he was still a normal person, it could work. But my main issue is about his acting ability, which has been choppy at best. I can't think of a single movie where he proved himself to be a great actor, but I can think of a few movies where he was not. He's remembered for Brokeback Mountain, but is he remembered for that movie because of great acting or for something else? In contrast to the stellar cast of the first movie, wherein there were mostly thespians, consistently good actors, he seems out of place. Christian Bale, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Gary Oldman, Liam Neeson... Ok, Katie Holmes was that one loose end.But knowing how great the first movie turned out, and how Christopher Nolan has never missed a shot before, I'm still optimistic. Let's just wait and see how this turns out... hopefully is doesn't turn out bad.

I mean, How bad could it possibly turn out? Unlikely just for one odd casting choice. I'll probably be one of those first in line when the movie comes out. I'm still burning with anticipation. But the minute I hear the Joker say "I wish I knew how to quit you, Batman...", I'm getting out of the movie theater.

Genesis of The Bat

Today, I’m extremely happy. I know this feeling is temporary, but I am happy...The word giddy would be a more appropriate term.

The inner child in me has come out again. LOL. I’ve just bought another Batman Graphic novel. It really seems silly for a 26 year old to derive pleasure from comic books--- I’d probably be amused at myself if I was another person. But hey, these are not childish comic books. Most Batman stories are dark and brooding. That makes them adult friendly, I guess. Now I’m on defensive mode. Haha. It’s a fact, though. Comic books are not just for kids. Just because a story is told through drawings doesn’t mean it caters to a young audience. Take the Watchmen graphic novel for instance. The story had a very mature approach, and it was even deemed complicated, some adults can’t even figure out what it was really about. And to prove I’m not the only one in my age group buying comic books, there are a lot of adults looking through those graphic novels in bookstores. And the prestige editions of some comic books cost a small fortune! It’s amazing that they’re often sold out. I doubt any kid could afford those. Heck, when I was a child I sure can’t afford those. Even now I can’t afford those. Hehe.

I’ve just recently discovered the wonders of the Batman comic books--- just last year, at the ripe age of 25. I didn’t really like Batman before--- whom I first encountered in those reruns of the Superfriends cartoon series and that campy TV show from the 60’s starring Adam West. Even just saying his name seems silly...BAT--- MAN. Ugh. But when I saw the two Tim Burton Directed Movies (the ones by Joel Schumacher were just plain crap, and ruins the character, so I’d rather forget them), I became fascinated with the character. The animated series shown during my early teenage years fueled that fascination further. That cartoon series was dark and gothic, and definitely not for kids only. It was the first cartoon series I’ve seen which had a mature way of telling a story, making it very adult friendly. Even now when I watch the reruns I can see the difference between this series and the other cartoons from my childhood--- like Thundercats, or the Transformers, or the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I can’t even watch those shows now without cringing a bit, though I enjoyed watching them before. They seem so juvenile now, they were definitely made for children. The Batman animated series, on the other hand, is something I can still watch and appreciate. Also, It arguably had the best depiction of the Batman Character from the Comic books. His translation to the live action movies pales in comparison. Then came another cartoon series which I never got to follow. It was made by different people, and I didn’t like the way they handled the character. It seemed like they made Batman kid friendly again... and he never was meant to be kid friendly. Good thing the creators of the original series went on to create the recent cartoon series, Justice League. The way they portrayed the character was the same as before. And since that cartoon series was such an excellent show, I liked the character even more. He was dark and brooding, often a loner. I guess the fascination is rooted in the fact that he’s someone I can relate to. Dark. Brooding. Gloomy. Pensive. That’s how I am on most days, especially when I’m alone. Unlike superman, who was made to be picture perfect, squeaky clean, like some goody goody obedient boy scout who can do no wrong, Batman is also a normal person, with no super powers. Maybe that’s why more people can relate to him too. His stories are believable. Batman also has the most stories ever written for any comic book character--- even more than Superman, who’s perceived to be more popular. According to records, no other character even comes close. That has got to mean something. Every comic book writer seems to have some sort of batman story to tell.

Last year, came the movie Batman Begins. Naturally, I was one of those first in line to watch it. I was totally blown away! Thanks to Christopher Nolan, it was one of the best movies that I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Add the fact that it was a movie about a comic book hero--- what the director did was simply amazing. It was expected, though. He also directed the kick ass thriller Memento. Now I'm looking forward to his next movie, The Prestige. His decision to make the Batman universe realistic was a great one. i guess it helped that i wasn't that familiar with how Batman was portrayed in comic books, otherwise I might sound like some fanboy complaining about how much they changed several aspects of the character in the movie, how the Movie Batman isn't like the comic books Batman. As seen by someone who's not exposed to the character's comic book persona, I thought Batman Begins was one damn fine movie. Anyway...That did it for me. It was about time I get to know more about the character in the format where he originated--- in the comic book world.

See, I have always been a marvel boy--- mostly. As a kid, I bought a lot of X-men and Spiderman comic books. And okay, I also bought a lot of Archie Comics, too. A truckload of them. Haha. Sure, I bought the series about the Death of Superman, which was highly publicized at the time it was released--- I got caught in the hype. But when it came to superhero comics, The Marvel titles were the ones I bought on a regular basis.

First title I got was The Long Halloween, which was actually a gift from someone who found out I wanted to buy it but I was short on cash then. Hehe. I read it immediately, and read it twice. I felt such joy and elation, I was like a child who got exactly what he wanted for Christmas. It felt kind of orgasmic. Hehe. At that time, I thought the story was so good, that I wanted more Gotham stories. I searched the net for the best graphic novels. My next purchases were Batman: Year One and The Dark Night Returns, both by Frank Miller. Wow. Frank Miller is A God. I guess I’ll keep on thinking of him that way, unless I read the horrible The Dark Knight Strikes Again, so I won’t. hehe. Both stories were realistic, dark, gloomy, and violent. Definitely not for kids (so again I’m justifying my reading of comic books at my age? Hehe). The critics were right in proclaiming both titles the best batman stories ever written. What I bought today was Dark Victory, the sequel to the Long Halloween. It includes a retelling of the introduction of Robin… I hate Robin. He seems contrary to Batman’s loner persona. I prefer Batman stories without him… but what the heck. It’s written by Jeph Loeb, so it must be good. I’m normally stringy, and the book was quite expensive. But I didn’t care. Hehe. I just had to buy it. I can’t wait until I read it.

Next purchase would probably be Blind Justice, where they introduced the Character of Ducard, the man who trained Batman. I’ve seen a lot of copies, so I won’t have a hard time looking for one. But what I really want is The Killing Joke, written by Alan Moore, who also wrote Watchmen (which was named the Best Graphic Novel ever written). But I can’t seem to find it in any book store or comic book specialty shop! It seems that it’s not sold in this country!!! Argh! I’ve searched online, and apparently it costs anywhere from $30- $50, brand new. Pretty expensive for a graphic novel, even for a prestige edition... maybe I should postpone my search until I get job. Hehe.

Now excuse me while I go back to my reading...

LOL. I’m such a child.

Wasting Time

Yesterday, I've wasted almost 3 hours of my precious study time. I would've finished another Chapter if I've continued reading. I just watched Dead Man's Chest. It's not a horrible movie... it just seemed that I was wasting my time because I could've done something productive instead! If it was a great movie, I wouldn't be feeling this way. It was just average, I was practically just staring at the screen the whole time, feeling indifferent--- even in the action scenes. There's just no excitement. A lot of scenes were also unnecessary! That whole encounter with the cannibals could have been taken out. It would probably make the movie more watchable since taking out those scenes would've made the movie about 30-40 minutes shorter. Occasionally I was looking at my watch, a bit surprised that the end seemed nowhere in sight. It's like being out at sea, seemingly lost, with no land in sight. It's definitely one of the most over rated movies ever. It broke a lot of records on its opening a week ago. I say it didn't deserve to break such records. It will be remembered years from now because of that feat, but it won't be remembered as a great movie--- because it isn't a great movie. It's even nauseating that I'd probably sit through another 3 hours with these characters next year. I feel like I have to watch part 3. With that cliffhanger ending they gave us for Dead Man's Chest, I'm compelled to watch the third movie just to see how things turn out. I just hope they make the next one more cohesive and more action packed… then I won’t feel like I’ve wasted my time, and money.

She Devil

I knew I was going to post something like this.

Eventually.

My previous entry was but a prelude to this. With that post, I seemed to have committed the sin of generalization. On my previous entry, I seemed to be thinking that every girl in the world is like her. When I was typing that entry, I was thinking of her. Then I seemed to think every girl in the world is manipulative...

is an opportunist...

is a liar...

is selfish...

is self centered...

is egostistic...

is neurotic...

I became oblivious to the fact that the best advice and support that were given to me during those difficult times came from women. Nothing can be more wrong than to generalize. Not every woman in the world is like her. There is a God, and he can’t possibly allow all women in the world to be like her… and her blind friends, for that matter.

It was sometime last March, a month after my ex-girlfriend and I broke up. I was burning with anger then, because of all the lies she kept telling people. I wanted nothing more than to shut her up. One of my friends suggested that I write down what I'm feeling. He said it helps release the tension. He even suggested that I do it in a blog. If I write my feelings in a piece of paper and somebody read it, they'd probably know it was me who wrote those things. But if I post my feelings in a blog, I'd remain anonymous since my blog would be lost in the sea of blogs out there--- unless I told someone about it. So last march, after following all sorts of advice, I created a blogger account. What have I got to lose? I might as well try it. I typed what I was feeling. It was an entry full of anger, littered with expletives and ill will. But when I clicked the "publish post" button, the damn thing won't work. It won’t even save as a draft. Something was wrong with the site! Maybe what happened was a good thing. I never got to publish that blog. It was only last May when I was doing practically nothing when I decided to post something on the blogger account that I've created.

I'm okay now. Most of the time. I'm not angry--- most of the time. Most of the time I'm highly functional, all emotions in check. Until someone brings her up. Or mentions her name. That's when I see red. In an instant, I burn up again. I can’t seem to control it. No one has ever made me this mad before. Not even my ex who cheated on me (and who recently asked me to marry her out of the blue… how pathetic is that?). Not even those people who destroyed my reputation somehow.

So maybe I should start typing my feelings again, as was previously advised. It won't be some incessant ranting like what I did before--- after all, I'm less angry. I'll try to do something more orderly.

Sometimes i wonder what's the point of having relationships, when I have no plans of getting married in the near future. Am I looking for companionship? I have a lot of really great friends for that. Am I seeking intimacy? I can go down on the local bar for that, one great night of intimacy. Or for the sake of convenience, some even sell intimacy in the streets late at night... I'm just kidding. I won’t venture into that. Sure, there are many benefits with having a relationship, you'd have a special bond with someone else, far greater than you can have with most of your friends. Heck, you could do things you can't do with most of your friends. But at what price? It brings so much pain when a person you've once loved has done things to hurt you. Trying to figure out another person also brings so many headaches. Not having the perfect relationship that you had in your mind brings so much frustration. You always have to consider what the other person is thinking because essentially you've become incorporated into each others lives. In a way, you're crippled--- you can't decide on your own. You have to agree with each other since you have become one with each other. If you’re single, it's less complicated. you only have to think for yourself. You have freedom. You don't experience the headaches that come with managing relationships. Sure, being single does carry a risk of being lonely, but at least you won't get hurt as much. And there are so many other ways to be happy.

So why do I hate her so much? Just hearing her name is enough to make me go mad. When I first met her 5 years ago, it was love at first sight [sic]. Okay, it wasn't love, for the attraction was more of the physical kind. After two years, along with her friends, she was dropping signs that she liked me too. And she frequently fought with her boyfriend because of that. She even went on a vacation with me and my friends one summer, even though we weren't even close then. She even faked having cramps so I could massage her legs. That should've given me a clue about her true colors. As one of my friends said, no decent girl who's in a relationship would entice another guy knowing that she already has a boyfriend.

Finally, she said it out loud. She also had feelings for me. Why did she have to say that? What did she want me to do? She still had a boyfriend. I'm not the type who'll steal someone else's girl. I've been on the receiving end of a two-timing girlfriend before, and I know how that hurts. If she broke up with him it would be less complicated. After a few more months, they did break up. Apparently, I was one of the reasons. But then she told me she had a lot of things in her mind, she still had a lot of issues to resolve. After a few more months, I asked her if I can court her. She went into some lengthy response, but the bottom line was, she rejected me. I was hurt. After all those months of teasing? Did she just play me for a fool? Did it just make her feel good that someone besides her boyfriend liked her? I felt so lost that night, and yeah, there were waterworks. I could've moved on, but she still kept on sending random text messages to me such as "I miss you", and even --- good grief, "I love you". What kind of game was she playing?! So I held on to the idea that eventually we could be together. After several more months I've grown tired. What set me off was when I heard that she was dating some other guys, besides me. She said she was just trying to resolve several issues, but I'm the one she wants... all those things are just crap. If she wants to play the field, leave me out of it. I told her it was over. I'm done with all the games.

Then the next day, she wanted to meet. We met at the chapel, of all places. at midnight. She told me one of the issues that she wanted to resolve first was her parents. Apparently, they liked her ex boyfriend so much, they wanted her to marry him. Her parents think of her ex as their son. Another issue was me. I was so inconsistent, she didn't know if I did love her. O--kay, so I'm the one who's inconsistent. Even if I seemed inconsistent, maybe it was because I really can't show my real feelings for her because she can't give me anything definite. I was shocked with what happened next. She told me she wanted to be my girlfriend. At that very moment. She was going to throw all uncertainties in the wind because it was what she really wanted. I didn't feel joy at first. After all, I was preparing myself to get over my feelings for her. I was plainly surprised. After reality has set in, after a few days, I started feeling happy. After all, how often does one get to be so lucky? It was a dream come true, being with you dream girl [sic].

After a month, it seemed that we weren't really prepared for this. First of all, we didn't know each other very well. The attraction was mainly physical at first. We had a lot of arguments. We often argued about minor things like our schedules. How I preferred to sleep when we’re together…. Hey, clinical clerkship was really exhausting! Also about her not wanting me to pay for dates and her not wanting much material stuff from me, though she kept giving me material stuff. Some sort of “equal rights for women” thing, I guess. She didn't like my habit of just letting things pass without talking about them. For me, what's the point in dwelling with things that are done? What's done is done, let's just move on. Also, I rarely talk about my feelings. What can I do about it? I’m an introvert by nature. That’s how I am. But when people ask me I answer them. She also didn't like the fact that I rarely say i loved her, when she kept on saying she loved me. I dunno, it's just that I think of the term love as something really deep. It's not a word I'd keep on throwing around. For me, loving someone would mean you'd want to marry her, you'd want to spend the rest of your life with her, you'd do anything for her, and give up everything for her. That's my definition of love. And I can't say that to someone I've only been in a relationship for less than a month. I admit that’s one of my issues that I can’t seem to resolve. I have such a lofty definition of love, I can’t bring myself to say such a simple word that others keep on saying with ease. If my feelings are not the same as my definition, I can’t say it. How I wish I see love as synonymous to just liking someone, simply caring for someone, or even infatuation like a lot of people I know.

One time, in one of our huge fights, my mind was clouded with anger when she threatened to break up with me. I really went too far when I practically called her a slut when she kept on comparing me with her ex, who was much more--- intimate. There were even rumors that she was a nymphomaniac, a sex addict, which further clouded my sense of judgment... if those rumors were true, that would explain why I never seemed intimate enough... anyway, i was really sorry for that. We almost broke up then, but we made up after a week. It was evident it wasn't going to last though. We had too many misunderstandings. One day she found a letter from my ex girlfriend which actually had pretty harmless content. She got so upset. I wasn't really in the mood for that then, I even got mad at her for probing at my personal stuff. We didn't talk for 2 days. When we finally did, she broke up with me. I didn't complain. That was also what I wanted. Why keep on pursuing something that was evidently not going to last.

We were on speaking terms again after a month or so. Just plain friends. Then I heard that her ex boyfriend wanted to get back together with her. She told me she didn't love him but she was going to get back together with him anyway. I told her what's the point in that? Wouldn't you rather wait for someone who you'll love? She didn't listen to me. Apparently, she wanted the convenience of having a boyfriend, even if that was tantamount to using him. Then I received a message from her saying she never felt more miserable in her life. Why send that to me? After several weeks, they broke up. Apparently the guy got a clue that she didn't love her. He broke up with her.

Stupid me. At that time, I still wasn't over her. i still kept on listening to stupid mushy love songs. I still kept on thinking of what could've been. What I have done wrong. What I should’ve done instead. That's when I realized i really loved her [sic!]. Could I be still thinking of her months after we broke up if I didn't? So when they broke up, I saw that as an opportunity. I told her I still felt the same way, I asked her if we could give it another try. She said she also felt the same way. So eventually, we got back together--- UNOFFICIALLY. Because that was what she wanted. I never thought I'd see the day when a girl would prefer to have an "unofficial" relationship. She wanted it that way so there will be “no pressures, no expectations, but with commitment”. Who was I to bargain? So I agreed. I still felt like the luckiest guy in the world. After all, how many people are given a second chance? I wanted to make things right this time. I wanted us to work. My friends know how much I’ve changed. She noticed how much I’ve changed. God knows how much I’ve changed. God knows how hard I tried to make things work.

After about two months, several friends of mine told me that she told them that she wanted us to be official already, she was just waiting for me to bring it up. So I did. She told me bluntly, in a very cold manner, that she was only saying what people wanted to hear, not what she’s really feeling. Ok… still people keep pestering me to ask her to be official already because she kept on saying that to them. I asked her again. She gave the same response. I said to myself, I’ll never bring this up again, I’ll just wait for her to tell me. I’ll wait until she tells me she’s ready.

It was still a rocky road. There have been minor bumps, a few arguments here and there. But I remained patient, unlike before. i didn't want to waste the second chance I got, after all. I didn't want to open my mouth, because based from our past experiences, that only made matters worse. All those times, I just kept my mouth shut, and eventually the anger would pass. Some of those arguments were really ridiculous. Like the time she kept on insisting that she was taller than me, when everyone can see that I'm about 2-3 inches taller than her! I wasn't with her the time she brought this up, so i told her to just look at our pictures to see the truth. She told me i was just nearer to the camera, when it is evident in the pictures that I was either behind her or directly beside her. She was too stubborn! She won't believe me even with all the proof! I told her to ask our friends, but of course she wouldn't do that. The only way to prove it to her was to meet her personally. But I couldn't meet her because I was doing community work in the province. She was taunting me for several days, and i could tell she was enjoying it. She was enjoying trying to test my patience. Maybe she was just trying to piss me off. Or maybe she's to egotistic, she fails to notice others--- including me. We've known each other for a long time. She should be aware of something as simple as my height. Or maybe she's just plain stupid. When we met after a few days, I stood beside her... then she finally agreed, with a bit of shock in her face. Christ, she really didn't know my height. Could you possibly love someone without even knowing his height?! What happened after a week gave me a stronger headache. She still insisted that she's taller because she can see my scalp. Good grief. She's not blind. So maybe she's really stupid. Most likely, she was really trying to test my patience.

After several weeks, she gave me a letter saying that after a lot of thought, she wanted our relationship to finally be official. But things were different. I admit, I was becoming tired of all the waiting and indecisiveness, but it was so much more than that. At that time, she seemed to have changed. She didn’t seem like the person I fell in love with. Or maybe she was always like that, I just didn’t see it before. Maybe she really was this horrible person that a lot of people have been seeing.

Granted, she was sick at that time, which could explain the mood swings. But she has been unpredictable, moody, and indecisive from day 1. Making her illness a scapegoat just won’t do. And I couldn’t understand why she hasn’t spoken to her parents for a month. A Month before that, her parents got mad at her because she went home at 10 AM, after spending the whole night getting drunk. For some reason I can’t understand, this made her wild with anger, complete with throwing furniture, expletives, plus a whole bunch of other fireworks. Her parents reduced her allowance as punishment, which made her even more psychotic. When we saw each other, She reasoned to me that if her brother who’s 2 years younger can go home in the morning without a peep from her parents, she should be given the same treatment. I told her that her parents were only worried because she’s a girl, and there are far worse things that can happen to a girl who’s out during the night compared to guys. She can’t expect equal treatment with her brother even if she was older. Add the fact that she’s beautiful [sic], a lot of predators can see her as prey just for her physical assets [sic]. Still, she remained angry. She left home and just stayed at hospital for weeks. I understood where her parents’ anger were coming from. It’s her I couldn’t understand. I have many issues with my parents also, I have had many arguments with them, but it never came to a point wherein I stayed mad at them for so long. Her reasons for staying mad weren’t even valid. Maybe if she was some 5 year old kid, such behavior would be acceptable. But she’s already an adult, for crying out loud.

Also, I found out she went to see her ex boyfriend, with the goal of getting back together with him. Yup, the same guy she broke up with before she became my girlfriend, and the same guy she went back to when we broke up the first time. Did she think this was some sort of ping pong game or something?! And that happened mere days after giving me the letter saying she wanted us to be official already. And weren’t we still in our unofficial relationship then? The one with no expectations but with COMMITMENT?! Good thing, when she went to her ex-boyfriend’s house, she saw that her ex already had a new girlfriend. The look on her face must have been priceless.

I never told her I found out about that. I stayed silent. I didn’t answer her letter in any way. There are so many things in my head. Because my schedule suddenly became hectic then, I didn’t see her for almost 2 weeks. I then received an email from her, saying I was so insensitive for not answering her letter. I was so insensitive for keeping her hanging like that. I wanted to confront her about that incident when she went to her boyfriend’s house. But there were more reasons why I’m having second thoughts about the relationship, primarily because she has changed a lot. She didn’t seem like the same person that I loved. I particularly didn’t like the way she’s treating her parents. I told her she had no valid reason. That’s why I have to think about things first. I have to think if I still wanted to move further with the relationship. That set off another major fight--- through email, for crying out loud. That really set her off. She told me how can I judge her like that. Plus some irrational statements that I should always be on her side and not with her parents. She then told me that her anger with her parents were deeply rooted, since high school. She then went on with details that she never told me before to justify her anger. And let’s not forget her classic lines, “if your feelings for me can change that easily, I shouldn’t be with you in the first place.” “I feel like I’ve been played. I’m tired of all your games”. SO NOW I’M THE ONE WHO’S PLAYING GAMES?! SHE’S THE ONE WHO WAS PLAYED?! Man, what a hypocrite! Looking back, it seems she has been playing me from day one! If it seemed like I’m playing her, I didn’t mean to. I guess that’s a good thing though. If it seemed like I played her, then she just experienced a dose of her own medicine. Oh yeah, let’s not forget my favorite line --- “If you don’t shape up, there are a lot of guys who would die to be in your place”. Jesus Christ. What an ego. On hindsight, she’s not that beautiful. She’s too thin. Her teeth are a jagged mess, as if someone punched her in the mouth. And there’ something wrong with her jaw, like it’s too big for her face. Some people even say she looks like a drag queen. Some people say she looks like a witch, she just needs a pointed hat and a broom. She then mentioned her friends. Her ever loyal, blind, overly biased friends. Her friends who don’t have minds of their own. She said her friends were right that she should stop seeing me, and that her friends were right--- I am an ASSHOLE.

Now who wouldn’t get pissed off with such a response? I answered her point by point. First of all, how can I understand why she’s so angry with her parents when she never told me those other details in the first place?! And still, her reasons don’t justify her anger. How can she act so ungrateful to the people who have sacrificed a lot for her? It must break their hearts to see they’ve brought up such a horrible person. As for her egotistical statement? I told her that likewise, there are so many girls who would die to be in her place. I’m not being proud and cocky, but that’s the truth. I’ve received a lot of proposals and admirations here and there, and I see how a lot of people look at me. How some people practically stare at me. It’s just not something I’m proud of, and it’s definitely not something I’d say out loud. I’m not comfortable with that. I’m not comfortable with being admired. That was the first time I said that out loud, to show her that she’s not the only one who’s “in demand”. As for her stupid friends? I told her I don’t give a f*ck about her stupid friends. Many of my friends hate her. They call her manipulative, arrogant, indecisive, evil, self centered, and hey, some even call her a bitch. She doesn’t have a good reputation, though she thinks she does. But I never listened to my friends, no matter what they’ve said. I still loved her. So why should she listen to her friends? This set off replies full of expletives, on her part and mine. I called her a queen, maybe she misses her ex boyfriend because he treated her like a queen. She says she was treated like a queen because she treated him like a King. Yeah right. That’s not the way I remember her telling me about their relationship before. Her boyfriend accused her of being selfish, of only thinking of herself. If she treated him like a king, would he say that? Her ex boyfriend was right. She really is selfish. She’s a user. She’s an opportunist. How else would you explain her going back and forth, wherever it was more convenient for her. It’s even more pathetic that she can’t realize that. She seems to think that she’s always the victim, that she’s the one who’s always right. For someone who graduated Magna Cum Laude, she sure is pretty stupid when it comes to other things.... the things that really matter. Or maybe she’s aware that she’s the predator, she’s just pretending she doesn’t know that. Like every successful predator, she’s great at making others believe that she’s the victim. Only then will she show her claws. Clever B*tch.

I have a good relationship with all of my ex girlfriends. Either we’re still friends or just civil to each other, but there’s no ill will towards each other. Heck, one just asked me to marry her. On the other hand, all of her ex boyfriends despise her. I want her to think about that. Maybe that would give her a clue about who’s to blame in our failed relationship. I admit, it’s probably both our faults. But the blame can’t solely be put on me, as what she has been implicating.

Evidently it was over. Harsh words were said, and wounds were made that would take such a long time to heal. I didn’t feel regret. I felt that the woman I fell in love with had somehow died… this was a different person altogether. She said sorry after a few days. Though I did not reply immediately, I was no longer mad. I thought maybe we could at least be friends in the future. I was sure we can be civil to each other. I accepted the fact that we were just not meant to be. Two failed trials at a relationship--- that has got to mean something, right?

Then I found out what she has been busy doing. What the Heck was that apology about?! What the hell was that “SORRY” for?! All the while I’ve kept quiet, I didn’t talk about what happened even to my closest friends because I believed it was a private matter. And what about her? She has been telling people, up this present day I believe, lies that she’s mixing with several truths to make them believable. Half truths! For instance, she’s telling people I called her a bitch to her face. What I said was my friends call her a bitch, yet I still loved her. See the HUGE difference? Either she’s manipulative for changing what really happened, or she’s incredibly dumb not to see the difference. Now I call her a BITCH, so she doesn’t have to lie anymore. Although the term WITCH would be more appropriate. To make her act more believable, she’s crying while she’s telling her sob story. Someone give her an Oscar already. It’s so much easier for girls to gain sympathy. Whenever 2 people who are in a relationship fight, it's easier to think of the guy as the villain, because girls are perceived to be weak and mild, they can do no harm... while men are perceived to be strong and more aggressive. Even if it's the woman's fault, many people judge the guy before hearing the whole story. A lot of women are aware of this, and they use it to their advantage. And let's not forget the effect of a woman's tears. Just shed a tear and everyone will be there for you, no matter what gibberish you have been saying. This is a sort of an illness for her. Even before, she kept on telling people about our problems and arguments, even those she’s not close to. Many times I hear about her problems with me through certain people that she’s confided in--- and there are a lot of them. And many aren’t even close to her! They tell me they were surprised she told them those things. But when I asked her about her issues with me, she usually said it’s not a problem at all, she’s dealing with it. Now who doesn’t know how to communicate properly? She keeps on telling others that it’s me who can’t communicate properly, when she’s guilty of the very same thing! Even though her habit of ANNOUNCING our problems to such a huge audience pissed me off most of the time--- it’s embarrassing after all to have all these people knowing about your private affairs, I’ve learned to live with it. I’ve accepted it as one of her faults that I should learn to live with. And besides, it was partly okay then, because those were truths after all. But this time it was so much different. This time she has been spreading lies. For what goal? To ruin my reputation?! How can you do something like that to someone you’ve once loved? Maybe, despite her telling me so frequently that she loved me, she never really loved me at all. It wasn’t really love she felt, it was some other feeling that she mistook for love. A lot of those who've heard my side of the whole story (directly from me, or from some of my trusted friends) have told me that it looks like I was never really loved. I might have been used. And though it hurts, some have even said I've always played second fiddle to her ex. I really bought the illusion that she LOVED [sic! sic! sic!] me because I've been hearing her say that word so frequently.

A lot of people believed her, mostly people I’m not close to. And her close friends, even though they know me, are too stupid to think for themselves so they believed her outright. Or maybe they DO have a brain under their thick skulls, they’re just blindly loyal so they forget to use those neurons. I was particularly upset because I was close to one of her friends. I can’t expect her to take my side, but for the sake of our friendship, she should’ve at least heard my side of the story first before passing judgment on me… before she took sides. I would’ve wanted her to try and fix things and be our mediator, which you would expect when two of your friends are the ones who are at odds. Heck, i would’ve been happy if she at least stayed neutral… but I suppose not all people can do that. I really don’t understand how some people can’t keep themselves from private affairs. Even if they’re really close to one of the parties involved, wouldn’t it be better to keep a “hands off” approach? No matter how close you are to a certain person, you can never know what he or she is like in a relationship unless you’ve actually been in a relationship with him or her. A great friend can be a horrible girlfriend or boyfriend, so you can’t just judge the other person because you can never know what it’s like to be in his or her shoes. As for her other blindly loyal friend? I actually don’t give a shit. I was never close to her, and I never really liked her. She seemed to think she’s so cool, when she’s actually a big fat stupid loser. As if she’s on an alternate universe. If both of them only kept themselves from private affairs and tried to fix up their own lives, they probably won’t give birth to children out of wedlock. Am I being too harsh? Truth is, I think I’m being too nice.

I’ve been calling those who bought her story outright STUPID. But I guess I was the most stupid person of all… for ever falling for her. Could anyone be any more stupid than that?

Now, many people are mad at me, because of things that I’ve SUPPOSEDLY done. At least a lot of people didn’t believe her also. My closest friends took her every word with a grain of salt. And even those people whom I’m not close to, but know the things she had done before. There was this incident wherein this guy was acting like some sort of a stalker. He kept on courting her even though she rejected him already. Because she had a boyfriend then. Then again, maybe her real reason was she didn’t find him attractive. After all, having a boyfriend didn't stop her from playing those games with me. The guy actually stopped courting her in a formal manner, but he kept on doing nice things to her which gave the impression that he still was courting her. To make long story short, the guy eventually got pissed with all her rude rejections and accusations, and sent her an email, which practically called her trash... and also implied that she’s a slut, with the way she’s behaving at parties yet acts like some conservative prim and proper female in class. She then printed the email and showed it to every single person she encountered. I bet even strangers. Practically everyone in class read the email, including me even though we barely spoke at that time. I thought she was right then because I was still infatuated [sic!] with her. But looking back--- there are more humane ways to reject a guy. And I think the fight between them is a private affair, she shouldn’t have made it public. It would be all right to seek advice from a few close friends, but to involve the whole class is just plain wrong. I guess a lot of people thought the same way as I’m thinking now. Apparently, the guy has many friends. Her plan backfired. All the while she thought she was ruining the guy’s reputation, but in reality she was ruining hers. A lot of people thought what she did was horrible. And that’s how a lot of people began referring to her as the evil bitch from hell. I guess what she’s doing to me now is the same thing. If I believed in karma, I would believe that one of these days, what she has been doing would also backfire on her. I’ve been a fool, and it looks like there are going to be more fools. Many are still attracted to her sweet, conservative, mild mannered exterior, unaware of the wolf beneath. There will be more victims. Hopefully, before that happens, karma would strike.

Many have said that I still love her because I’m still so mad at her. I couldn’t allow anyone to affect me this way if I still didn’t have feelings for her. Yadda yadda yadda. Blah blah blah. I believe some of those psychoanalytical stuff, but in this case, what those people have been saying is a big pile of psychoanalytical crap. I have no love for her. Just plain hatred. So enough of this Love equals hate, and hate equals love, what you say is the opposite of what you feel bullshit. Maybe the only connection is--- because I loved her so much, it hurts so much knowing the things that she’s done to me. Any bad thing done by any other person would be negligible, but in her case, it is amplified a million times because I’ve loved her so much. So the resulting hate is proportional to that. But now, there’s no love left, I’m so sure of that. I’ve even had dreams months back of torturing her and inflicting so much pain on her. I’m no sadomasochist, so there’s no love in that. Purely hatred, As distinct as black from white, no in betweens, no gray areas. I was so preoccupied with those things a few months back, that every time I went outside, I would imagine seeing her, then I’d think of ways to hurt her. Every time I saw a long haired girl, I was filled with delight that it could be her and I could hurt her …only to be disappointed when I’d realize it wasn’t her after all. Geez, a few months back, I was in the verge of madness--- hence the title of this blog, which I never bothered to change. I was on a JOURNEY TO INSANITY. I would’ve gone to the loony bin if I didn’t learn to control my impulses.

So now I’m okay, Now I’m stable. Now I’m highly functional. Time can heal wounds after all. I’m capable of being happy, as long as no one mentions her name. As long as I don’t see her face. As long as I don’t see her smirk. As long as I don’t see her smile.

I’ve already done this blog, translating my feelings into actual text…. And it’s an extremely lengthy text. So did this help? Did it make me feel better? Have I released the anger and hatred from my body, now that I’ve translated my emotions into actual words?


Not really.


I still want to strangle her.