"A blog is a personal diary. A daily pulpit. A collaborative space. A political soapbox. A breaking-news outlet. A collection of links. Your own private thoughts. Memos to the world." - Anonymous

Monday, September 10, 2012

Rants of a Working Student

At the end of an exhausting week at school or at work, it is only fair to look forward to a free weekend and unburden ourselves of the loads of work that wear us out and recharge for yet another demanding set of responsibilities for the following week. Saturdays could be spent to involve ourselves in extracurricular activities - physically, socially, or mentally - or to finish all unfinished business from the previous week and prepare for the next one. Sundays are for our spiritual and emotional essentials with REST as the primary activity on this day and 'Family' as the most important feature. Sometimes, however, this pattern is disrupted since nowadays, people are engrossed in more tasks and more activities that there seems to be little time for everything. Yet somehow, we manage to set a balance between life and school or work because we know that the physical body has limitations which even our human powers cannot transcend. We gotta rest.

Today is Monday. I missed my weekend. Every bit of me is exhausted. Worn out. Drained. In fact, I am too tired that I can't even rant enough. 

During the weekdays, I go to the university and face taxing requirements from my professors. I am a senior for crying out loud. All the quizzes, papers, exams, and projects keep coming in as if there's never enough of them. And the fact that we're from UP means that more is demanded from us. It is a shame to the university and to our highly-esteemed professors if we submit mediocre papers or perform poorly in examinations. It kills me whenever I feel that I am not good enough, for I know that UP deserves better students. 

I always think that I am not good enough. Sometimes I blame it to myself, sometimes to my parents. My father did not finish his college degree. He was a farmer turned businessman turned driver. He was once lucky once with our business (that is why I was able to attend high school in Ateneo de Naga) but his adulterous acts and addiction to vices corrupted our fate and family. I despise him up to this day. My mother earned a degree in college but they married at a young age so she became a housewife by profession. She has a small business back home - a bakery - and now she is applying for work overseas. 

So here's the fact: I am the eldest among five (5) children of two unemployed parents. More facts: I was raised as a strong, independent person. The idea of being grounded, spoiled, and overprotected are foreign to me. I spent my childhood looking after our store, taking care of my siblings, and studying to keep my name on top of the honor roll. I couldn't count the number of times when I heard the phrase "I Love You" from my parents. That's because they never uttered those words. One or two years ago, I was overly depressed and miserable and sent an SMS to my mother saying, "Don't you care for me at all, ma? You never ask where am I or how am I doing. What if one day, I just kill myself?" She replied, "May tiwala man baga kaya ako saimo." (It's because I have trust in you.)

I grew up believing that I was the one who raised myself. I had to learn and do everything on my own. I built my own dreams and set my own goals. I bought my own clothes. I did all my homework on my own. I went to school activities without their permission. I brought my aunt's maid in PTA meetings. I ate and slept alone. I chose my own degree and my own university. I picked my own apartment/dormitory. I made friends whom they never met. I have gone to places without their knowledge. I have read many books and watched many movies which they never hear the stories of. Last but not the least, I am writing this blog post and they do not even know that their daughter has a blog that exists. (And maybe tell me that I shouldn't be posting things like this on the Internet.)

Perhaps this is where my ocean of insecurity is coming from. No one was there to calm me when I woke up from a nightmare at the middle of the night, to defend me from those bullies in school,  to tutor me in my Math and Science homework, to watch me during special school activities, to celebrate my medals and certificates with me, to cheer me up after a bad day, to help me make decisions on my college degree, to watch cartoons with me, to read me storybooks before bedtime, to make me a glass of milk, to comb my hair, to take care of me when I am sick, to cuddle with me in bed, and to experience life.

School was my only teacher and it only made me feel so small. Every day, as my world grows bigger and wider, I doubt if I will ever be intelligent enough and if my life will ever be as extraordinary as with the lives I see all over the internet. And so there goes my yearning...

My weekly allowance is shared and provided by my aunt and my uncle and usually, the amount that they give me is not enough. I couldn't ask for more, because it would be too much to ask for already. This is why I decided to get a part-time job as an online English tutor. I work from 8:00-11:00AM and 7:00-12:00MN during Saturdays and Sundays. In between those hours, I either do my school requirements or sleep. By the way, I could also work from Monday to Friday evenings, 7:00-12:00MN; I do sometimes, but ...


With this job on my hands, it feels like I have stopped living and it's killing me! All I wanna do is read books and online articles, watch movies and TV series, see places, create memories, blog, and many others. I just wanna live. I just wanna learn, and learn, and learn even more so that I may be good and deserving enough to get a good job soon because I want to send my siblings to good schools and provide for them a good life because they have been through enough crap already. Is that so wrong? I hate being poor. It is so unfair. Now I am drained like an empty glass.. and I am breaking. Sorry for the indecent blog entry.

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