Thursday, July 15, 2010

I just changed the name of this blog...



Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. If a guy punches you he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, Every story we’re told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we’re so focused on finding our happy ending we don’t learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don’t, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn’t include a guy, maybe… it’s you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is… just… moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope.

-He's Just Not That Into You





...because there's more to life than counting down the days until I meet him.

Re-finding Neverland

Where the white sands and the coral
Kiss the dark blue Southern Seas


Penelope’s first ever class in her first year in college was at Com Room 1, Guy Hall. It is one of the classrooms in the whole university where someone can get the best view of the Visayan sea. Penelope’s afternoon classes in that room would often get interrupted for a couple of seconds by the loud sound of a ship telling everyone that it’s about to leave. But she doesn’t mind. The noise had become music to her ears. She also loved looking outside the window of that classroom because whenever she does she is reminded of the reason why she decided to spend her four years of college in Silliman in the first place.

And the palm trees tall and stately
Wave their branches in the breeze


Sometimes when there was nothing to do, Penelope remembers laying for hours with her friends underneath the trees near the president’s house, feeling the newly-mowed grass on their hands, the wind brushing softly on their cheeks. They would just stay there, talking about hopes and dreams and problems and love until the evening mosquitoes begin to bite them, and no one would tell them to leave. Some other times when she’s alone waiting for her class to start, she would read the words written by students on the green benches located at the same area and make up stories behind them.

Stands a college we all honor,
In our hearts without a peer


Silliman was always a part of Penelope’s favorite childhood tales. Some of her uncles and aunts have also had their chance to enjoy the beauty of the campus during their time and they would often share what they recall of that beauty with her. The Neverland of carefree people was what she thought Silliman was back then. She loved the place way before she was able to set foot on its land.

Silliman, our Alma Mater,
Ever lovely, ever dear.


Penelope is now on her fourth year and she couldn’t help but wonder these days. What has happened to her dear old university—her Neverland?

With the new regulations and changes set before the students, every Sillimanian’s right to freely express his or her self, as well as the unique artistic and laidback feel of the university, has been put at the pedestal. And Penelope worries a lot about this. There are plans of transferring her college to another building away from the fresh breeze of the sea. The benches near the president’s home have already been taken out. There are now certain areas restricted to playing Frisbee, one of the much-loved sports of Sillimanians. The Freedom Wall has recently been painted plain. New buildings are sprouting in some places, taking the space that could have been used for more Acacia trees and Gumamelas. Penelope can’t even go to her major classes wearing only shorts and slippers, a fact that she used to brag about to her friends from highschool.

And so Penelope begins to wonder--what went wrong? Maybe it’s because of the transition of time, or change of interests and development of technology, or maybe it’s because of the growing population that grounds to having a few changes in infrastructure and policies, that’s why the Silliman before is heaps away from the Silliman right now.

If students would just spend more time jamming along to old school songs at the amphitheater instead of drinking vodka at secret spots until the wee hours of the morning, if students would just kill the apathy on relevant issues and talk less of their recent test results, then Silliman could still become the beautiful Boho sanctuary that it was.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Let go.

No matter how much he keeps you expecting and no matter how much you love the idea of you and him together, the cheesy things you daydream about will never happen if there’s always going to be another girl better than you. To him, you’re just the one he’ll wonder where to place in his perfect, perfect life. His second friggin choice and that’s all you’ll ever be. Forget the fact that you got him first. She’s smarter, prettier, awesome-er than you.

She’s way too better, so obviously he chose her. Yet he still does things that make it impossible for you to hate him. That’s the thing about him, you think. He just doesn’t know what he wants. He is with this girl yet he keeps giving you the hope that he also likes you.

Why can’t he just leave you alone, right? Why does he have to keep you hoping when he’s already with someone else?

And after all the thinking, finally, now you realize something about him. He’s selfish, he’s a jerk and, hey, you’ve been right all along: he’s just not man enough to fill the spot of the guy you’ve been waiting for all your life.

So let go. You’ve already wasted almost your whole college life for him.