They say the only time you’ll be able to feel a person’s worth in your life is in his/her absence. Saying goodbye is my weakness, more so is death. A college professor of mine died last night in a bus-taxi collision along “killer highway” Commonwealth Ave. She was aboard a cab that got disastrously smashed by a Universal Guiding Star PUB. Lourdes “Chit” Estella Simbulan, a veteran journo and respected professor, was 54. ( Read more… )
They say all good things come to an end. Or, there’s nothing permanent in this world. Add to the list the many self-consoling maxims that will attempt to make you feel better even if you goddamm know nothing’s going to fix your frown. Even if they’re going to bribe you with
a bar bars of Snickers (effectiveness maybe dependent), you end up succumbing up to the fact that it’s, well, hopeless. That there’s nothing left to fight for. ( Read more… )
One subtle symptom that you’re (kinda) missing college is when you long to be that then asinine, happy-go-lucky freshman who had to look up to some upperclassmen for “guidance.” I especially felt that way recently when I had to go to an org event care of Kea saving my shrunken wallet. I had to be fine foremost with being called an alumnus when some meager 15 units passed like it was just, uh well, yesterday. ( Read more… )
Serendipity, I believe, happens not only in romantic gimmicks. It can also promulgate itself in the times we feel unusually dejected, when we think the universe is devising its great plan of havoc upon us. It can come to our sense of oblivion to make sure we wake up and realize something: That we must continue to live life. It exists to make you think and believe that there’s always tomorrow. And it’s way way better than yesterday.
I have never encountered serendipity in a long time. The last time it hit me was when I became second honor in my second quarter period in third grade, after having been hospitalized in less than a month.
And that was it. ( Read more… )