Quotes

My Wisps 6

Quotes

- Paulo Coelho 

My Wisps 5

At times I get inspiration from personal experiences. If you're someone I personally know and you're reading this now, please don't misinterpret.

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She said I let go of people easily. She said I push people away. She said I was angry with the world. She said I don't know how to appreciate and don't care about the people who care about me.

He said I wasn't. "There are limits. But if there comes a time that I hurt you, don't bother coming after me."

I told him I won't. "I never run after someone. Ever."He smiled. 

My Wisps 4

"You can't just forget about people! You can't burn bridges!"

Calmly, I removed my glasses and set them down on the table. I pressed the bridge of my nose. "I thought we were done discussing this. I have a reason why: self-preservation."

He stopped. 

"You're bound to do it eventually. Tell me I'm wrong." 

"You are!"

I shake my head. "You're so naive."

My Wisps 3

The conversation started off with an innocent 'hi' and ended too quickly with a curt 'good-bye'.

Often I find myself discussing something with you. Anything. These talks were sometimes sweet, at times serious... regardless, I enjoyed them all the same. You began to unravel before me yet you never pushed me to do the same. 

As each layer fell, the more my heart becomes in sync with yours. And late did I realize, I am bare.

My Wisps 2

"What did you like about him?"

"He's the one I love... at the same time he's the very man I greatly despise. But," she played with the stem of her wine glass, "that's just it."

My Wisps

Before I fell in love with you I found myself. 

It wasn't until then did I realize I wasn't so bad after all.

Anger?

So this person thinks I'm angry at the world. I do not know how to appreciate and I am not thankful for having people who care about me. 

I got into an argument with this person again. I really do think when I get too happy, bad things happen afterwards. I just met up with old friends from high school earlier today, and later this same evening I got into a fight. How unfortunate. Well, the fights are pretty common now. I just find them completely ridiculous. 

I never really share my personal problems with this person. I rarely even talk to her. Why? Well, she uses it against me in every argument. There's no one talking in this house other than her because she gets the freedom to. No one judges her. She's always right and she's always innocent. I am imperfect, and I admit that I am.

This person thinks I'm angry at the world for I push people away. The only time I ever did push someone away was with this friend of mine (let's call her Shrew) who was treating me unfairly. And that was the only thing she heard from me. Now said person thinks I don't want anyone around me just because of that incident. Puzzling, for she herself doesn't even like Shrew to spend time with me. 

She told me I let people go so easily. Really? After having told her I gave Shrew many chances, I 'easily' let go of people? Even after she herself told me to stay away from Shrew and I remained firm that I won't, I 'easily' let go? I think she never got past that part of the story. She only heard what she wanted to hear. I don't care? If I didn't should I be hurt by what she's telling me? Just because I refuse help because the person offering it is also in need of help doesn't mean I cannot appreciate or I push people away or I am angry at the world. That man needs to worry about HIMSELF and not the both of us. I cannot accept help from someone who also needs it. How can she not understand? Just because she favors that man, everything I say that is against what he said rouses her defenses. She defends him like a lioness would to her cub. I didn't even do anything. I chose the better option and that was not to accept his help for he needed to focus on his performance. 

She said I was very proud when I told her I can handle it. She tells me all the time that I can, how is this any different? Then she said it, "Di mo kaya." 

I knew it. 

It's pretty obvious. When someone continuously tells you same thing over and over, it just means they're trying to reassure themselves. She has no faith in me anymore. I get that. After not being at par with her beloved male subordinate, I apologize for not meeting anyone's expectations. I'm a failure, I get it. I didn't get high grades. But I'm not giving up and I am not a leech. I want someone to succeed and I refuse to be an added weight on their shoulders. I don't like it when people worry about me. It just means that they think I am incapable of handling it. I particularly am against those who say I can when deep inside they fear I can't.

Lies. All of it.

At times I wonder why I even came back. I think I'm a lot better off away from home. 

First Semester in Medical School

So I've been told writing can help in sorting out your thoughts. Well, let's give it a shot, seeing as most (perhaps all) of my posts are about an unnamed male I have a huge admiration for. 

I'm currently in my first year of medical school. Instead of pursuing a career in research, as what most people thought I would do, I thought that getting an MD first would be the better option. After several talks with my mother before graduation, and several more after that, I finally went through with the idea and was very much excited for the first day. 

"Finally went through the idea"? What does that mean? Well, ever since I was a kid, I've always wanted to be a doctor. Come college, I still did. Unfortunately, things didn't go according to plan and I had to rethink about my chosen profession. As I went through my thesis, I grew to love what I was doing. I enjoyed it. I got to go places, meet new people... It was basically off-routine. Every day was an adventure! Now that I grew to love it, medicine took a backseat in my options. 

When I informed my parents about my change in career choice, my mother wasn't all too happy about it. The talks consisted of her persuading me and me learning to love my first love again. Opportunities came flying left and right from the other side, and me, still undecided, kept them there for a while longer. Longer than what a person who's already decided to enter medicine would have. I couldn't see why she wanted me to. I don't know if I was being selfish or she was. When I finally got some to think about it on my own, I got her figured out. 

So off to medical school!

Choosing medicine would mean giving up a lot of things. I would have to give up my spot in Manila: away from what I got myself accustomed to for the past four years. Adjusting to the life I had before college is a challenge. I had to make new friends, get used to the culture here, and deal with the teaching style being offered at school. There are too many things to adjust to and I think my parents don't see that. It's suffocating. Most of the time, I just want to crawl under a rock. School, I have no problem with. It's the other factors that are distracting me. I was close to cutting off all ties with college friends but my mom told me not to. At times I regret not doing it, and there are times I'm thankful I didn't go through with it.

I don't think I would have made it this far if I didn't have someone to speak with. I do believe if they weren't around, I would have hardened. I was close to extinguishing. I wanted to go back, give up, just LEAVE. But I was told to be patient. I am being patient. I have limits. I am already sick and tired of caring. Yet for some reason I still do. It's annoying.

Well, I guess there's no changing things anymore. I'm here, they're there. I just have to deal with what life throws at me. There's no other choice but to move forward.

Thoughts

Loving a working man is hard. You're not sure if he's going to call you or visit you. You're not sure if he sees you as his equal or just a child. You're not sure what you are to him: a friend or a source of entertainment to spice up his routine of a life. And in spite of all these doubts you still stick around because he makes you feel better and safe, something your past lovers cannot make you feel. 

And you can't tell him how much you care about him. Fearing that it would break what little bond keeps you two together, or worse, he'll dismiss it as child's play. He can never understand how an innocent heart can fall in love. 

Thoughts: Liking

"LIKE. Caught between a lie and the truth. It's not love. But could it stand for love? Is it any lesser? Does it stand for something more? More, that which cannot be contained. More, that I am too shy to fully express. Haunting, is it not? The assurance lacking. Yet there is more hope in it than any other word."

I like this one guy.

A lot.

And as much as I want to tell him how much I do like him, I get tongue-tied. Something holds me back. It could not be fear for I never cared about what he would think or do or what would happen between me and him after I tell him. Selfish, yes. But there is nothing I can do about it. I did not choose to like him. Hell. I do not even have any clue as to what I liked about him. 

I guess what is holding me back is my pride. Not to mention the circumstances make it impossible and inappropriate for me to tell him how I really do feel about him. Perhaps I should just go look for another male to go gaga about... Unfortunately, none caught my attention. 

Thoughts: What if...

There are just too many things going on nowadays that I lose track of where I am. And just when you have finally gotten the hang of being detached, one of those you pushed far back into your head would suddenly materialize and bop you on the head. "Miss me?" It would ask, sending you a maniacal grin as you try to regain your composure.

The first few months of school weren't easy for me. There was a whole lot of adjusting required just so I wouldn't bring much trouble or stand out. I was at a total loss as to how to deal with certain situations or how to respond to people that I just broke down. 

It was infuriating not to know what to do. It's like sitting on the bench while the rest of the team is out playing ball. Or you're there in the medic's tent because of an injury while the rest of the squad's fighting the enemy. 

Perhaps I'm not stable enough. Emotionally that is. Or perhaps my way of gaining momentum is not acceptable to many and I just burn myself out trying to explain and make them see who I am. In the end, they never can see. So everything you did minutes or hours prior were all for nothing. It's a cycle. A cycle I want out.

At times my mind drifts back to how it used to. I only had to worry about what good differences I can make, not what other people think of me. Here, where I am right now, there's just too much thought invested on appearances. There's less listening and more talking. My very being says just leave me be, but people just don't seem to get it.

Things could have been a whole lot different...

What if I said no that time?

Would it have been a whole lot different? Would it have been better? Would I have felt that confusion? That sudden punch to the gut when a probability you never took makes an appearance and makes you ask yourself, "What if?".

This pulls in a whole new set of stuff I don't want to think about unless I want to be miserable for the rest of my life.

Regret?

No. I shouldn't. 

Thoughts: Believing

I've been such a hypocrite those past few weeks. I need to change if I want to make things work out for me. 

Another: 

Thoughts: Hope to Forget

Although a part of us wants to see the other happy, even if it were because of somebody else, there is still that part that wishes that it could have been you instead. As selfish as it may sound, it cannot be helped. 

I have liked this guy for quite some time now, and I would have to say he's far different from the others. His words encourage me. He makes me better. He teaches me to accept who I am. He does not see my flaws as flaws but a side of me I should not be ashamed of. He trusts me.

I have grown fond of him. I learned to care for him. But I don't know if it's love. 

I want to trust him but I couldn't out of fear that he will use it against me or judge me. I'm afraid of getting hurt, even though pain is inevitable. 

I want to tell you more, but I can't. I could say it again, but I won't.

I want this feeling to stop... 

Hopefully soon.

Perhaps never.

Thoughts: Did I make the right choice?

At times I wonder if I made the right decision. Could someone who knows so little about a profession be good enough for it? Well... most people would usually go, "You'd never know until you tried it." Or some would say, "Other people have jumped into it without even thinking about it or even considering it, something else must be holding you back."

I chose to take medicine without even asking myself enough if I would be able to take it. If I can meet its demands. Friends tell me I have what it takes to become a good doctor. But when I ask myself the same thing, I come up short. All I can say as a reply is, "I'll give it my all." 

I have no idea what lays before me. No one does. From what I've heard, medicine is not something you just enter into because you felt like it. It is a commitment. Brains can only bring you so far. You have to have character to get yourself through.

Yesterday I was at the emergency room. A family rushed in with their father who was, in my point of view, unconscious. Little did I know that his heart had already stopped beating. He wasn't unconscious, he was at the edge.

The nurses on duty that time were trying to revive him. Wires were seen hanging around him, their ends attached to the ECG machine and certain points on his body. A tube was inserted into his mouth to get oxygen in his lungs. One of the nurses was holding a bag and pressing on it at fixed intervals. I never really bothered knowing the details of the situation, the names of the contraptions, the areas where they placed the ends of the wires, the clamps...they were all familiar because of animal physiology, but my attention was on the man on the bed. 

Since all the nurses were busy reviving him, I was busy looking around. On the bed was a husband and a father, around him were men and women who cared about him. One of them was already crying, the wife was in shock on the other side of the room, and the daughter was making calls. His family was there. They never expected that something like that would happen that day. From what I gathered, he just fell to the ground. And from the looks of it, they were eating out. All of them were dressed. If it were an emergency, would you even bother thinking about what to wear?

Thirty minutes has passed and still no response from him. The doctor on duty called the daughter in and gave her the news. She cried. The doctor asked her to bring the mother in, asking her first if the mother had any heart ailments to which she replied none. The wife was brought in and was told the same thing. You would have thought she cried, but she didn't. No tears rolled down her cheeks. Her mouth moved, her eyes closed, and from my spot I can tell she was whispering a prayer. She was holding his hand, then his feet, massaging them tenderly, hoping perhaps to gather some warmth back into them. 

I didn't know what to feel, to be honest. At first I wanted to hug the women and tell them everything's going to be all right, but that would be so stupid. Second, I was hoping for a miracle. When the white sheet was pulled over him... 

After that incident, we drove back home. We pass people on the streets, laughing and playing, talking to each other...at that moment I just wanted to tell them that someone just died. "How could you be happy?" Now there was the feeling of wanting to be alone, for being happy sounds so wrong and sinful. How can I be happy when I saw someone die today? When I saw someone lose an important person? 

They say that life is unfair. That we would all die someday. Once you get to that point or witness someone reach that step, it's something totally different. I start to think about the people that matter to me and realize how fleeting life is. The family yesterday had no idea!

On the way back home, we passed by people on the street. They were completely oblivious with what happened. "Someone just lost their husband/father back there! How can you be so happy?" I didn't want to talk, smile, laugh... I was at a loss as to what I should feel.

Could I handle such? Do I have what it takes to be a good doctor or a doctor even?

Quotes

For we walk by faith, not by sight. - 2 Corinthians 5:7 

Thoughts: Lacking

I want someone who knows what it is that I need.

But do I even know what I need?

We keep on going through all our experiences, checking if there was something in any of them that would give us a clue on what we're looking for... what it is that we need.

Why is it that we feel that something's lacking?

What am I looking for?

Thoughts: Counseling

I never liked guidance counseling.

Never really found any sense to it.

I mean, you're talking to a complete stranger whom you paid to listen to your problems. They would only know about the things written in the information sheet you filled out before the start of class. They would only know about your test results. None of those really say anything about me. I could have doodled in my tests, I could have forgotten to update my information sheet. There is nothing much about me on those papers stuck to their clipboards.

So why bother listening to my problems? Because you're paid to do so? That's just harsh don't you think? 

Besides... I'm not much of a talker. I'm a writer. When thoughts overflow, I prefer writing them down than sharing it verbally. You have time to think about how to phrase it in a way that both you and the one hearing you out would understand (haha). 

I told my counselor (since we had to go once for our first two semesters in college) that I just don't see my problems to be just as big as the others. They have bigger and more serious problems than I did, so I prefer to deal with mine by myself and not bring anyone else into it. By doing that, I have more time to help them by listening. "You think way ahead of your years." she told me with a smile. 

A friend of mine told me that I should learn to share too. I told her I will if I felt like it. Besides... she needed more help than I. She told me I have the tendency to put others first before I did. Haha. 

There's just this weird feeling I have when I tell people about my problems. It makes me feel pathetic. What are you complaining about? This sounds stupid even in my ears.

I also don't like it that when telling people of your problems, they would have this notion that whenever your down it's because of that problem you just shared. Couldn't it be another reason? Do you have to go over it again when I have already taken it out of my chest? I don't want to be reminded of it! There are also chances people would think you're faking your happiness. I'm not. I am truly happy if I say I am. I choose to be happy. The problem I can fix, but I don't drag it out every single day. That's just... depressing.

And I make people happy when I'm happy. Going through the letters I received for my birthday, I found out that I have helped so many by being just that. It feels nice knowing that you were able to make people feel better about themselves.

So as I play with the sand in the sandbox (no duh), and the counselor asked me what I was making (a sand pyramid?), I told her it was nothing. I just wanted to play with the sand. Does everything I do have to have a hidden meaning? Can't it be just because I like sand and I'm bored with this session? 

You just don't know me enough, that's why.

Quotes