The Hill

(Markéta Irglová)

Walking up the hill tonight and you have closed your eyes
I wish I didn’t have to make those mistakes and be wise
Please try to be patient and know that I’m still learning
I’m sorry that you have to see the strength inside me burning
Where are you my angel now don’t you see me crying?
And I know that you can’t do it all but you can’t say I’m not trying
I’m on my knees in front of him but he doesn’t seem to see me
But all his troubles on his minds he’s looking right through me
And I’m letting myself down. beside you this fire in you
And I wish that you could see I have my troubles too

Looking at you sleeping, I’m with the man I love
I’m still here weeping while the hours pass so slow
And I know that in the morning I’ll have to let you go
And you’ll be just a man once I used to know
And for these past few days someone I don’t recognise
This isn’t all my fault, when will you realise

Looking at you leaving, I’m looking for a sign.

*miluju tebe*


Dolls and their houses

When I left home to live with my boyfriend, I was on cloud nine. Home was a place of chaos and yelling and petty squabbles that sometimes turned violent. I was glad to leave. I had just swerved on a life-altering course that turned out to be my very first act of independence. I knew things weren’t going to be perfect. I have always been a realist. But I expected a life a lot different from this empty shell I’m living now.

That was almost three years ago and now, though I hate to admit it, I do regret leaving my home, my parents, my siblings. It’s not because at home, I wasn’t charged with as many responsibilities. Nor is it because of the more superficial benefits like the fact that the room I used to share with my older sister is now air-conditioned. It’s not because at home, I wasn’t as isolated as I am here because at any time I can just barge into my sister or brother’s rooms to have a little chat.

The reality is that, when I left home to be with the man I love, I also spurned the chance for me to grow up, to mature into a stong, free-thinking woman. I believe that love still exists between me and my boyfriend, just as I believe that living together, when we were both supposed to be at an age of soul-searching, has soured our relationship. Earlier today I yelled at him that he didn’t really love me, that what he had loved at the time when he asked me to come away with him, was the idea of saving me, of being the magnificent prince who stole the poor maiden away to live a life of happily-ever-afters (of course what I said wasn’t as elaborate as that). But I realized afterwards that I, too, fell in love with the idea of being rescued from my meager existence. I hadn’t expected our life together to be as constricting as this. Now, my boyfriend tells me what I’m supposed to do everyday, subtly hinting that I should cook the meals, clean the house, AND do my job as a freelance writer.  Subtle? Yeah, like a gun to my head. What he doesn’t realize is that I already know that these are my responsibilities. He doesn’t have to tell me. And when I try to tell him that HE gets angry. Twisted? Damn right it is.

The worst thing about my situation is that I allowed it to happen. So now I’m stuck in this rut, unable to think for myself, and worse, unable to leave. All I can hope for is that in a few months I’ll be going back to school. Away from the suffocating whirl of you-should-do-this or that’s-so-like-a-girl remarks. I’m not a feminist but I do agree with Henrik Ibsen’s Nora when she said that her husband had been treating her like a doll-wife, fragile and weak, never to make decisions, unless they involved running the household, or learn about serious matters.

Finally she says, “I must stand quite alone, if I am to understand myself and everything about me.”

I just wonder when I will have my chance to do such a thing.

My first poll… :)


For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be a doctor. Always.

Now, though, when I’m staring at the opportunity to realize my dream in the face, I begin to have doubts. It’s not because of the formidable reputation that medical school has with regard to the infinite studying, memorizing, and endless case presentations. I know I can handle it. I’m a nursing graduate so I know what lies ahead in a medical career. But, considering the long and tiresome hours that interns and residents spend on their shifts, I realize that it might not be for me. I want to be able to settle down soon, maybe raise a family, and I don’t really see that happening if I choose to stay in the hyperactive world of the medical profession.

My only other option (since I really don’t want to stay a nurse) is law. The idea came to me during my last year in college when my parents asked if I wanted to proceed to medicine. My father had hinted at law instead because according to him, I had spunk. My freelance writing career which started a few weeks ago reinforced this idea. The problem is I don’t really know much about law. My concept of a lawyer’s work comes from movies [cue clip from Devil’s Advocate] and other people’s definitions. I have no personal experience with law matters and my Philippine Government and Constitution class bored me to death. Although the ideas of speaking as eloquently as ancient Greek senators and of performing impassioned deeds to defend a client are appealing, I’m not really sure that I have enough gut to pursue this kind of career. But the interest is there. I feel drawn to it the way a kid is drawn to a candy bar he is yet to get his first taste of. That’s where my real dilemma lies. I’m afraid I might just be wanting this career change at this moment then later on live to regret a major decision in my life.

So here are the facts:

        1. My desire to be a doctor remains. However…….

        2. The confines of the hospital, the looooooong shifts, the blood and guts, that are omnipresent in the life of doctor have diminished my passion for that kind of career. Also……

        3. I’ve already gotten into a good medical school. I just deferred from enrolling for a year. Basically, it’ll be easier for me if I go ahead with the original plan since I wouldn’t have to go through the tedious application process. But…..

        4. I’m really, really, interested in taking up law.

        5. I’m not completely confident that I can pull this off in the long run.

Those are the factors I have to consider.

By the way, I only have 3 1/2 months left before the school year begins so I need to make up my mind fast. Lightning fast. Help!

Being the new guy

What’s so bad about being new anywhere? I know all too well what.

Ever been new in school? Everybody else already has friends. People don’t seem interested to get to know you. They’re already busy with their own groups and their own interests. There’s no room for a newbie in their world.

I have never experienced something like that in real life, but on the net, that’s happened plenty of times. Like now, for instance. I actually have no idea where to start. Should I post another entry in my blog? Should I read other posts in other people’s blogs? Offer comments and advice? Edit my profile over and over again until I’m satisfied with the way it looks? Because of my inexperience, I often lose track of the things I should keep in mind, like why I created a blog in the first place.

Why did I? Well, to write of course. I just discovered, after my 21 years of existence on Earth, after 17 years of being able to write, after mountains of crumpled-up paper and endless cups of coffee, after hundreds of traitorous pens thrown away (especially after failing me during exams :-/ ), after countless comments that I can actually write meaningful compositions (and even more that say I suck at it), after the hated Last-summer-I-did-this essays to be submitted every June…after all that, I realized that I can write and that I even enjoy doing it.

So, to all the blogs  I’ve created and eventually abandoned, I’m truly sorry. But, the elusive silver lining presents itself and it seems that the effect of being the new guy has worn off on me, finally. I’m not gonna erase this entire blog after two or three weeks. I’m not gonna delete my entries because I fear the comments that people may leave. I’m not going to allow myself to be intimidated by all the expertly-written blogs that infest the cybercommunity. WordPress, I’m here to stay! *stampfootonthegroundnow*