When will I ever be enough? Come on tell me, you fucking fate 'cause if I would never be enough, if i would never get enough high grades to make it in that list, then I wouldn't even bother trying. But that's the hurting part, I tried. I really did. It shows in my card. Look huh:
Subject-1stQ-2ndQ
Eng-88.90-90.43
Fil-86.60-88.87
Sib-86.70-87.77
Sci-88.40-90.07
Math(geom)89.70-90.90
TLE/Computer-89.32-90.30
MAPE-89.44-90.30
CL-84.62-87.09
Trigo-91.20-92.53
Oh man. So, what? am I really that under qualified? I have tried my best to remain optimistic about it. And thus, I fail. I fail badly.
And one thing that really triggered my temper is that when I found out that those in rank 1-5 overall were given application forms for Ateneo. I didn't want to know further details because I am exploding with jealousy. Man, I wish I could cry. Well, fortunately, my tears are held back. Dunno why.
Am I that bad? Am I that stupid? Am I really undeserving?
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Here it goes-Novel Draft,
Comments will be highly appreciated to further develop my novel. I don't really know if this could be considered one yet. It seems just like a long blog.
Chapter 1-Decision? What decision?
I’m just a normal creature, having the same issues as every teenager in most parts of the world: social struggles, laziness, procrastination. They all seemed so normal. Or so I thought.
It all started when I made my decision. A decision that will further affect my future but will also complement my beliefs. We all make decision once in a while. And I tell you, it must be really well-thought or else, it’ll hit you with surprises that you didn’t expect or see coming.
“What’s so cool about school?” I ask myself very often. I feel like I’m a pointless person, in a pointless school, tackling pointless things, memorizing pointless stuff that I soon will forget.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not the simple student. I excel. In fact, from kindergarten until 5th grade, I get either 1st, 2nd and 3rd honors effortlessly. I remember, being in Junior Kinder, my teacher called my parents. She said it was a secret. I smelled trouble but I got commendation. I was on top of my game for the first few parts of my school life. I was always the one to watch. I was the force to be reckoned with. If there’s a competition here, I’m always being called. The medals from these are painful reminders. It never sunk into me how important those achievements were until I became a little older, until those achievements became rare. I wish I really didn’t find out.
Well, anyways, those days were gone because after then, I face my downfall. Life gets harder every day-the lessons getting complicated, teachers getting a little moody. And talk about annoying classmates. Unfortunately, I can’t keep up with that phase. I felt unhappy having such a high position to maintain.
“Oh wow, wasn’t Mr. Jerick Tierra 1st last year and now, he’s 6th?” An unfamiliar woman said, not knowing that I was just behind her back. Okay, I don’t blame her. It’s my fault.
There is regret. There will always be. I never believe that there can be a regretless life. And they (regrets) will always be there, a nagging reminder of what could’ve been if you did this instead of that or if you chose her instead of him.
Before, I was so inclined to following teachers. But then, peer pressure came. Being a pet doesn’t give you much justice. Being bad does. And so, I, like a helpless leaf in a stream, is carried away. I started to hate teachers. Okay, not all but majority. And I blame my hardships on them.
And another factor of this decision of mine is my parents. I don’t feel that they appreciate what I show. Yes, they’re there every Recognition Day, even treating the teachers to dinner after awarding me. Well, maybe, I just needed the attention from them.
This is Jerick Tierra, simple yet complex, and full of irony. I lie, I cheat, I do not practice what I preach. I love, I get hurt. I fall down and get back up again. I make decisions. I take risks. Some people love ‘em, some don’t. But they do not matter ‘cause at the end of the day, it’s my life. It’s my struggle.
--
“It’s 6 in the morning. Wake up Jer. You’re gonna be late. You too Drew.” My mom always yells every weekday, waking us up with a bang.
“Come on, you’re dad’s gonna scold you.” She added.
So, from the coziness and safety of my bed sheets and pillows, I slowly and lazily get up. It’s another Monday and I stayed up late the past weekends. It always feels like as if I never get enough sleep though I counted that from 10 in the evening to 6 in the morning is still in the normal sleeping range.
I rush taking a bath and fixing my things to bring for school. I’m a really disorganized person.
I hate Mondays, still hanging onto the hang over by the past Saturday and Sunday, which mostly comprises of sleeping, surfing the net and a bit of socializing.
Time seems to pass by so fast when you’re having a good time and poof, next thing I know, I am walking towards those dreadful halls, overtaking students who walk slow. Yeah, I walk fast. It started when I went to vacation in New York. Turns out we need to get our feet going or get scrunched up with the crowd.
So, there. Every Mondays and Tuesday in my Junior Year, we have our Flag Ceremony-which is another pointless activity here in O’Gralley College. Teachers and school administrators are always so strict about it. And students, tantamount that strictness by being stubborn. Sometimes, we are punished and are to repeat the roughly 20 minutes of songs and prayers, burning under the morning sun. It’s so pointless. And those teachers, they’re just there sitting in the shade while we’re getting cooked under the sun. Now, that’s so freaking fair (smell my sarcasm).
“Aaaaaah. Another awful academic day has begun.” I whispered.
“Okay class, you may now start working on your activity sheets. Complete silence is required.” My teacher shouts. But then, it takes several scolding and a bang or two at the table for us to shut up. We can’t help it. People just seem to never get enough of stories.
From the first hour of school time, we have our Integrated Research Activity or IRA. There, we are given worksheets in our major subjects to be done at a given period in time. In short, it sucks. It makes our lives harder. Though it may only be 10% of our grades, still, it affects grades badly. And apparently, IRA is what our school boasts as a sharpening tool for its students. But for me, it just makes things harder for us and we usually just copy from each other anyways.
Okay. I must admit, I’m only mildly lazy. I like to procrastinate but I still manage to do school tasks in time. It’s not in my nature to just settle for nothing.
---
After our IRA, there’ll be three subjects in the morning and four in the afternoon, each comprising of 50 minutes each except for special subject which extends for about extra 10 minutes. Well, so you pretty much know a clear idea of my daily school routine.
As I’ve said, every day is a struggle. I really do not know what is in me that makes me treat small issues as big problems. I’m a pessimist. I think negatively so that anything that happens badly is accepted easily, and anything that happens well is deeply appreciated. I love to pull myself down so that if I would see myself succeed, it’ll make me feel really fulfilled. It’s like cutting a rope so that if I’d be able to put it back together then I will feel good about myself.
I really won’t promote this kind of brain function since, sometimes, when you don’t get what you really want, then you’ll fall in a sea of misery that you, yourself created. That’s a problem, that’s what made me make a decision. And that you will find out later.
For the mean time, let’s talk about other decisions that also shaped me very well.
Chapter 2-Deciding to Write
Journalism or teatro? Teatro! No, journalism. No, teatro. And teatro it was. I was in the fourth grade and we were given a choice for our Special Interest Clubs. We could only pick one. And so, in 4th grade, I have chosen teatro. I had fun. But I didn’t get the fulfillment that I was looking for. Yes, when I was roughly 10 years old, I was already searching for the feeling of being fulfilled. Okay, going back.
Teatro club developed my talent in acting. But I didn’t want to be an actor. So, after a year and we were to choose again, I wrote in that paper “Journalism” under Special Interest club. And that started a decision that I never will regret.
“Okay, submit a news article about the recently concluded Acquaintance Party of the school,” Mr. Richard Darton said. He was the school paper moderator, a bit uptight but is humorous. He had the sense of authority that scared me and made me submit my first ever article.
Since we didn’t have a properly functioning computer at that time, I rented a computer in a nearby shop. I can’t exactly remember what I wrote. I just remembered that that news article was a big chunk of a paragraph. Yeah, one big paragraph with dozens of sentences.
“Sir, here is my work,” I shyly approached him. He gave that mysterious look of his, one that you know is reading your actions. It intimidated me a bit since I didn’t know what he thought of my output.
A few weeks later, I found out that I was going to be trained together with a few more other aspiring writers. It turns out that, even if I lacked the knowledge on proper technicalities, the content was pretty well enough for Mr. Darton to waste his precious time on a creature like me.
That started my constant battle with finding the right words.
I met many friends who shared similar and different interests from me. At first, we were aloof from each other, being new and not used to one another. But then, as time started to pass, we built a strong bond.
In writing contests here, first you must make it through the Division Schools Press Conference. It’s easy to make it through here since our city, Leighton, is a small division with roughly 15 schools competing each category.
Chapter 1-Decision? What decision?
I’m just a normal creature, having the same issues as every teenager in most parts of the world: social struggles, laziness, procrastination. They all seemed so normal. Or so I thought.
It all started when I made my decision. A decision that will further affect my future but will also complement my beliefs. We all make decision once in a while. And I tell you, it must be really well-thought or else, it’ll hit you with surprises that you didn’t expect or see coming.
“What’s so cool about school?” I ask myself very often. I feel like I’m a pointless person, in a pointless school, tackling pointless things, memorizing pointless stuff that I soon will forget.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not the simple student. I excel. In fact, from kindergarten until 5th grade, I get either 1st, 2nd and 3rd honors effortlessly. I remember, being in Junior Kinder, my teacher called my parents. She said it was a secret. I smelled trouble but I got commendation. I was on top of my game for the first few parts of my school life. I was always the one to watch. I was the force to be reckoned with. If there’s a competition here, I’m always being called. The medals from these are painful reminders. It never sunk into me how important those achievements were until I became a little older, until those achievements became rare. I wish I really didn’t find out.
Well, anyways, those days were gone because after then, I face my downfall. Life gets harder every day-the lessons getting complicated, teachers getting a little moody. And talk about annoying classmates. Unfortunately, I can’t keep up with that phase. I felt unhappy having such a high position to maintain.
“Oh wow, wasn’t Mr. Jerick Tierra 1st last year and now, he’s 6th?” An unfamiliar woman said, not knowing that I was just behind her back. Okay, I don’t blame her. It’s my fault.
There is regret. There will always be. I never believe that there can be a regretless life. And they (regrets) will always be there, a nagging reminder of what could’ve been if you did this instead of that or if you chose her instead of him.
Before, I was so inclined to following teachers. But then, peer pressure came. Being a pet doesn’t give you much justice. Being bad does. And so, I, like a helpless leaf in a stream, is carried away. I started to hate teachers. Okay, not all but majority. And I blame my hardships on them.
And another factor of this decision of mine is my parents. I don’t feel that they appreciate what I show. Yes, they’re there every Recognition Day, even treating the teachers to dinner after awarding me. Well, maybe, I just needed the attention from them.
This is Jerick Tierra, simple yet complex, and full of irony. I lie, I cheat, I do not practice what I preach. I love, I get hurt. I fall down and get back up again. I make decisions. I take risks. Some people love ‘em, some don’t. But they do not matter ‘cause at the end of the day, it’s my life. It’s my struggle.
--
“It’s 6 in the morning. Wake up Jer. You’re gonna be late. You too Drew.” My mom always yells every weekday, waking us up with a bang.
“Come on, you’re dad’s gonna scold you.” She added.
So, from the coziness and safety of my bed sheets and pillows, I slowly and lazily get up. It’s another Monday and I stayed up late the past weekends. It always feels like as if I never get enough sleep though I counted that from 10 in the evening to 6 in the morning is still in the normal sleeping range.
I rush taking a bath and fixing my things to bring for school. I’m a really disorganized person.
I hate Mondays, still hanging onto the hang over by the past Saturday and Sunday, which mostly comprises of sleeping, surfing the net and a bit of socializing.
Time seems to pass by so fast when you’re having a good time and poof, next thing I know, I am walking towards those dreadful halls, overtaking students who walk slow. Yeah, I walk fast. It started when I went to vacation in New York. Turns out we need to get our feet going or get scrunched up with the crowd.
So, there. Every Mondays and Tuesday in my Junior Year, we have our Flag Ceremony-which is another pointless activity here in O’Gralley College. Teachers and school administrators are always so strict about it. And students, tantamount that strictness by being stubborn. Sometimes, we are punished and are to repeat the roughly 20 minutes of songs and prayers, burning under the morning sun. It’s so pointless. And those teachers, they’re just there sitting in the shade while we’re getting cooked under the sun. Now, that’s so freaking fair (smell my sarcasm).
“Aaaaaah. Another awful academic day has begun.” I whispered.
“Okay class, you may now start working on your activity sheets. Complete silence is required.” My teacher shouts. But then, it takes several scolding and a bang or two at the table for us to shut up. We can’t help it. People just seem to never get enough of stories.
From the first hour of school time, we have our Integrated Research Activity or IRA. There, we are given worksheets in our major subjects to be done at a given period in time. In short, it sucks. It makes our lives harder. Though it may only be 10% of our grades, still, it affects grades badly. And apparently, IRA is what our school boasts as a sharpening tool for its students. But for me, it just makes things harder for us and we usually just copy from each other anyways.
Okay. I must admit, I’m only mildly lazy. I like to procrastinate but I still manage to do school tasks in time. It’s not in my nature to just settle for nothing.
---
After our IRA, there’ll be three subjects in the morning and four in the afternoon, each comprising of 50 minutes each except for special subject which extends for about extra 10 minutes. Well, so you pretty much know a clear idea of my daily school routine.
As I’ve said, every day is a struggle. I really do not know what is in me that makes me treat small issues as big problems. I’m a pessimist. I think negatively so that anything that happens badly is accepted easily, and anything that happens well is deeply appreciated. I love to pull myself down so that if I would see myself succeed, it’ll make me feel really fulfilled. It’s like cutting a rope so that if I’d be able to put it back together then I will feel good about myself.
I really won’t promote this kind of brain function since, sometimes, when you don’t get what you really want, then you’ll fall in a sea of misery that you, yourself created. That’s a problem, that’s what made me make a decision. And that you will find out later.
For the mean time, let’s talk about other decisions that also shaped me very well.
Chapter 2-Deciding to Write
Journalism or teatro? Teatro! No, journalism. No, teatro. And teatro it was. I was in the fourth grade and we were given a choice for our Special Interest Clubs. We could only pick one. And so, in 4th grade, I have chosen teatro. I had fun. But I didn’t get the fulfillment that I was looking for. Yes, when I was roughly 10 years old, I was already searching for the feeling of being fulfilled. Okay, going back.
Teatro club developed my talent in acting. But I didn’t want to be an actor. So, after a year and we were to choose again, I wrote in that paper “Journalism” under Special Interest club. And that started a decision that I never will regret.
“Okay, submit a news article about the recently concluded Acquaintance Party of the school,” Mr. Richard Darton said. He was the school paper moderator, a bit uptight but is humorous. He had the sense of authority that scared me and made me submit my first ever article.
Since we didn’t have a properly functioning computer at that time, I rented a computer in a nearby shop. I can’t exactly remember what I wrote. I just remembered that that news article was a big chunk of a paragraph. Yeah, one big paragraph with dozens of sentences.
“Sir, here is my work,” I shyly approached him. He gave that mysterious look of his, one that you know is reading your actions. It intimidated me a bit since I didn’t know what he thought of my output.
A few weeks later, I found out that I was going to be trained together with a few more other aspiring writers. It turns out that, even if I lacked the knowledge on proper technicalities, the content was pretty well enough for Mr. Darton to waste his precious time on a creature like me.
That started my constant battle with finding the right words.
I met many friends who shared similar and different interests from me. At first, we were aloof from each other, being new and not used to one another. But then, as time started to pass, we built a strong bond.
In writing contests here, first you must make it through the Division Schools Press Conference. It’s easy to make it through here since our city, Leighton, is a small division with roughly 15 schools competing each category.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Typing the gist of the moment.
Here I am again, to complain about my shitty life, again. Oh man! I seriously need a shrink. Again, you triggered my insecurity without even trying to this time. Maaan.
I really just want to leave this city, get a fresh start in a different environment. Get a life. A better one. One where I know who I am, and a life where I love what I am. At this point, I am breaking down. I just envy you. You are getting the life you want, the friends you want. And me, I'm green, in a freaking bad way. Green with envy.
Well, okay. I know my life is okay. With my family, I'm well blessed. I'm given what I need before I even ask them.
I'm referring to school life. Well, okay. School life is okay too. I've got people who accept me, through the bad times and more bad times. Lols.
So what's my problem? INSECURITY. He just achieved it. The total self transformation. The total life and persona that he wants. And me? No. I haven't. I can't.
I'm in a crossroad here. I don't like both, not the road less travelled, not the road frequently traveled. Why should I reject myself when people accept me? Well, that's the mystery in Aldrin's brain with no clear evidence of being solved.
I really just want to leave this city, get a fresh start in a different environment. Get a life. A better one. One where I know who I am, and a life where I love what I am. At this point, I am breaking down. I just envy you. You are getting the life you want, the friends you want. And me, I'm green, in a freaking bad way. Green with envy.
Well, okay. I know my life is okay. With my family, I'm well blessed. I'm given what I need before I even ask them.
I'm referring to school life. Well, okay. School life is okay too. I've got people who accept me, through the bad times and more bad times. Lols.
So what's my problem? INSECURITY. He just achieved it. The total self transformation. The total life and persona that he wants. And me? No. I haven't. I can't.
I'm in a crossroad here. I don't like both, not the road less travelled, not the road frequently traveled. Why should I reject myself when people accept me? Well, that's the mystery in Aldrin's brain with no clear evidence of being solved.
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