Tag Archives: Sadness, Teens, College, Diary, Journal

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(c) Max Hidalgo

They said I was mad for not taking your hand when you held it out. They said you were love.

If you were indeed love—

–you should have been the fire that warmed me,

Not the fire that burnt my skin.

–you should have been the fire that provided light

Not the fire that blinded me.

I am not sorry for atleast a bit.

 

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To Myself Who Has A Different Name on Paper

It is funny how you seem like an open book to everybody. You are the most loquacious person I know of who can actually talk for an hour straight. You are also one of those few who can never hide her excitement, joyfulness, gratefulness and all those crazy stupid emotions.  You are actually the most vocal person I ever encountered, even though sometimes your tongue is faster than your brain resulting in unfiltered opinion that although true should not be spoken of.

Although you are the most honest person I have ever met who can be easily read when she’s happy, thankful and mad, I find it ironic that you never actually showed weakness or sadness in front of your friends and family. Despite the happy-go-lucky-strong-independent-lady façade that you have, I know that there is this hurricane in you that stirs like a never ending blender.

Everybody thinks you never really sort out what to share, but lady, you are the best in hiding secrets and the worst when it comes to expressing sad emotions. I understand that you have built this strong persona that everybody sees everyday because you don’t want to drag them in your sorrow, in your burden and in your bullshit. I perfectly understand as well that you think that since this is your life it is your own battle, which although correct is also flawed. Yes, this is your life and your battle but no one said that you have to go solo flight, that you don’t need a co-captain or a wingman.

No one can blame you for being scared, it’s natural; especially it is your first time to actually leave your comfort zone. No one asks you to act all mature and leave all your childish behavior behind, but you know that somehow you have to shed the immature behavior one by one and accept the adult responsibility.

It’s alright to cry and I encourage you to pour all those fears and anxieties in those crystalline salty tears. It’s fine to be dramatic and I encourage you to show weakness and let other people console you. Oh you might have forgotten, I’m the one who has a fake name not you so stop pretending that all is well in you. It’s okay to open up and to break that wall you built; it won’t be that easy and I am not saying that you get a hammer and give it one huge pound. No, it will take time, what I’m saying is you take one brick at a time to eliminate that wall you put up. It might take some time but atleast it won’t be too drastic.

As I have said, it’s perfectly alright to feel uneasy but don’t let that fear stop you from doing things that seem impossible. It’s noisy out there and it’s okay to listen to those noises, but please don’t let all the fuss drown your own voice. Just in case you have forgotten, I want to remind you that you have friends and family you can turn to. Lady, you’re not alone don’t be too hard on yourself.

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Tears and Fears

When I wrote the entry preceding this one it was not yet clear why I got too emotional that day of my last final examination as a college student. It was supposedly a day of celebration— of gladness that I had successfully finished the last leg of my university race. But it was the opposite for me for it became a day of weeping and tears.

People would surely laugh at my too dramatic display of uncontrolled agitation. I might have sounded like a little child who was having a crying fit over a lollipop. Shallow as it may seem, I just came to the realization as to why I was truly crying that night.

The tears that went running down my cheeks were not actually tears of joy. It was tears of pain— of sorrow and of fear. It is true that I was being sentimental that moment. Nostalgia was bringing in images of the past four years— of those good and not so good times. Every moment of yesterday became something of importance even though some were just merely fragments of wasteful non-sense.

Surely the memory is more perfect than the real [I forgot who spoke this line].

I am the type of person who always have a hard time when it comes to letting go. I cling on the past for too long, sometimes at an unhealthy length. It is not easy for me to just leave the professors, the friends, the campus, and the bullshit behind. Believe it or not it took me two years after high school before I fully opened up to university life. [Imagine, I was already a sophomore when I embraced the fact that I was off for a different path than my peers from high school.]

More than the wistful desire to turn back the hands of the clock at a particular juncture, it was actually anxiety of the future creeping out of the shadows that brought me to tears. It was actually the fear of the unknown which caused all the emotional commotion.

I am afraid of the world outside the campus.

This confession truly shows my weakness, nonetheless, I am making this public admission because it is the truth. I also think accepting that I am scared will help me move forward— will prevent me from getting petrified in one place.

Outside the gates of the school is an unfamiliar ground. I see it as a dark tunnel where I have to go in with no map or flash light. For a control freak like me it is scary because it means I have no power over the course of things in the bigger world. Without command I am like nothing, hence, the mystery out there is freaking me out.

Moreover, I am terror-stricken by the fact that the universe out of my own is a terribly harsh world. All these years I lived a sheltered life. I have gotten used to a reality that is safe, that is caring and that is true. Graduation for me simply means exposing myself to what the adults call the “real world”— the world that is full of lies, of corruption, and of dishonesty. [Why do they call it the real world when it is evidently not genuinely good?]

I am indeed frightened that the misguided and spurious system will eat me. Who am I anyway but a little girl who has a lot of ideals in her head and in her heart that is soon to become a tragicomedy? I am not prepared to bid college good bye. I am not yet ready to go out but I am choosing to move forward because that is the only way. It is my time to go out of my secured corner and take risks.

Time to be brave. Man up little girl. Good luck!

*

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“Nobody can be uncheered with a balloon.” – A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

Yes I am scared. I am definitely frightened of the darkness yet the only option I have is to go with courage. In the world full of pretensions, bravery is my shield and my sword. I surely have trepidations but the call to do the most loving thing to do is loud and clear— I am responding. It is now time to go down the hill, to be Magis.

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Max: The Drama Queen

People seemed to have aged over the span of two weeks. The effects of nights turned days and days that remained days can be seen in the thinning bodies of the once radiating youth. Hours spent behind books and computers for thesis and exams, in front of panelists and professors for defense and consulations, have sucked away their resonating glow. Tired looking eyes and the dark circles underneath them have transformed the little mortals into ghosts that are chasing time. Heavy sighs, joyful screams and sorrowful cries resonate around campus like a new mash-up hit.

Such a scene is an amusement for an on looker like Mister Boo (I don’t know what he’s called but I thought the name Mister Boo suits him). Maybe, just maybe, this is how the bulky silver-haired, green-eyed, Caucasian man wearing a baseball cap, a polo, a pair of loose blue jeans, and a Jesus Christ sandals who sits silently on the benches outside the humanities department would describe the last two weeks of a graduating senior.

*

The last two weeks of February was the most thrilling and the most excruciating of all the weeks in my academic life. Thrilling because we are nearly in the last leg of our university race and we’re about to set forth to a new journey on an unfamiliar grounds. However, it’s also excruciating for we know that we have consumed the allotted time to prepare for the bigger world— that very soon we are about to say good bye to the friends, professors, and the school that formed our home for four or five years.

The latter part of the month was actually allocated for panel defense, thesis revisions and submissions, and final exams for seniors like me. Hence, it wasn’t surprising to see people running around like Olympians to meet deadlines. It had become a natural thing to see someone walking and talking by him/herself sounding like a teacher before presentations and oral examinations. Messy hair and home clothes were the in thing matched with a tall tumbler filled with coffee. The libraries and study halls were also packed by heads buried in lecture notes and piles of readings. Restaurants nearby were also occupied by groups of undergraduates pulling all-nighters— cramming for synthesis papers.

Like many of my batchmates I was truly anxious to end the suffering that we were subjected to. I wanted to bid goodbye to tests, quizzes, projects and whatnot. I wanted to end the academic torment as soon as possible because I thought I would be happy after all of it.

I was TOTALLY wrong.

I couldn’t wait for my last philosophy oral examination to finish that Friday of February 28th. I was done with my finals for all of my subjects and philosophy was the only one left. All throughout the day I was busy contemplating about thesis number seven regarding the law and its nature according to Kant and Aquinas. I couldn’t actually claim that I was really focused while I was reviewing. In fact, I was more pre-occupied by the idea of liberation from stress after the exam than the test itself.

At around five in the afternoon I was already sitting on one of the plastic chairs lined in the hallways of the Philosophy department— my heart beating fast, my feet cold, and my hands sweaty. A male student was also waiting with me; he was more tensed than I was for he walked here and there reading his notes for the last time. On the other hand, I was trying to follow the advice of the legendary Mr. Eddie Boy, “Just relax,” written on a poster in front of me. I calmed myself down by slowly breathing in all the good vibes in the air and expelling all the tension I had in me.

When the clock struck 5:20PM I sauntered inside the department and waited another five minutes on one of the available seats. My professor fetched me from the anxiety area saying, “It’s your turn.” I walked with him towards the small consultation room on the left side of the department. He motioned me to sit as he took his on the chair across the table before me.

The first five or so minutes got wasted on his bullying antics targeted towards me. We actually have an awesome student-teacher relationship full of shenanigans and nonsense. However, his prank that time actually worked. My tears welled up my eyes even before I began because he made it look like he really was serious. When I was nearly on the verge of crying he guffawed like a hyena. [Oh… And he claims he’s the most normal in the Philo Dept. Well, I beg to disagree.]

I started to chop the thesis statement and began blurting out the ideas I have pondered over the day. Long have I waited for the last exam to come, but fast it ended—20 minutes, that’s what it took.  As I spoke of my concluding remarks my college life also came to a close.

My professor shook my hands after congratulating me and thanking me for a wonderful semester. I showed him my gratitude as well. And because I couldn’t handle too much joy in this little body of mine I exploded like dynamite– shouting, shaking, and jumping with glee— as I hugged Sir Mark. He exuberantly joined me in my little celebration by doing the same thing. A few seconds after we realized we had to stop the comical dance we were doing as well as the festive noise we were making because orals were still being held in the rooms beside us.

The energy died down after a while. It didn’t actually take that long before the euphoria left me. As soon as I closed the door behind me, I felt the pang of sadness lurking in the shadows of my heart. All my academic requirements were done, I had been released from the shackles of university work and yet it didn’t feel right.

I slowly ambled with no clear destination in mind, my tongue muted, my body exhausted, and my head silenced. With my placid walking I reached the university Church. The green trees, the calm twilight sky and the chirping birds, perfectly complemented such a serene place.

I entered the doors that were like arms open for embrace. It has become a place of refuge for me for four years. It’s the same place I asked for grace the summer when I was still in high school preparing and reviewing for my college entrance examinations. It’s the same place I ran to before I took my university’s test. It’s the same place I said my thanks when I got accepted. It’s the same place I ran to when I was most vulnerable. It’s the same place I visited that day of the curtain call.

There was no one inside but another student in his silent retreat on the last row of the numerous wooden chairs. I opted to seat at the front row to so I could have my own moment. I looked at the man on the cross, took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Soon I was lost in oblivion. I was deep within my own thoughts, my own feelings that the emotions just raged like flood. I couldn’t control the waterfall coming from my eyes. My defenses were down and I couldn’t stop sobbing hysterically.

It was already dark when I took my leave. One of our university guards was silently standing at the far corner behind the church near the water fountain. I am not quite sure how long had he been there or whether he witnessed me broke down. But on my way to the door he bowed and smiled at me, somehow I felt consoled.

The moment I got home, I texted my parents telling them that I just finished the last of all my final exams. The happiness transcends from their congratulatory remark yet I wasn’t really in the mood to rejoice. What I needed that time was emotional counsel. Hence, I messaged my mother to call me which she immediately did.

Apparently my father and my mother were out having dinner. I didn’t want to ruin my parents’ little date but I needed someone who could understand the situation I was going through. And who else can give me such comfort without judging me or without looking at me as a pathetic child— no one else but my mama and papa.

Ninety percent of the time I was the one talking in our conversation. My mother simply listens to my nostalgia (even though I haven’t left the university yet) and would interject with comforting words at times when I didn’t have enough energy to prevent my sob from drowning my sentences.

I know it was very dramatic, but what could I do? I grew to love my school in ways I never imagined that the thought of separation brought pain I never thought existed.

No, I don’t want college to end just yet.

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My Sunday Song

I am really confused with what is happening with me. I don’t even have the words to describe whatever it is. But there’s just one thing I am sure of, it feels heavy. I look happy but who am I fooling when I know that deep inside me there is this secret place where sadness hides along with fear and other negative emotions. 

I had been playing songs by The Beatles the whole day. [Yes, I have a 10.3 hours Beatles playlist]. Crazy as it may sound, I had been holding my tears for almost half of the time while listening to the legend. Yes, they have happy and lively songs yet it was the lonely ones that caught me– carrying me away like a raging river. The melancholy I was trying to cloak with pretensions just got exposed and I realized that I had been bearing too much weight. I am tired of pretending that everything is alright when it is not. I may have a strong façade but I am not infallible.

I am also fragile and breakable like any other thing.

*

Dear Prudence is my theme song for the day, it’s the song I can relate to the most as of the moment.

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