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Thursday, December 6, 2007

I want to go back to school

"Then, why not? If that is your current disposition, you have the autonomy to do it and nobody should get in the way. That is your right." Forgive me, I am talking to myself.

That takes me again to a trip down memory lane. One time, Kuya M told me that one of the clear indications of a person who is likely to become a wacko is someone who unconsciously often engages in soliloquy. Yeah, I talk to myself often especially when I'd rehearse for my opening spiels working as a call center representative somewhere in Quezon City almost two years ago. Like, I'd do that everyday while enjoying the short period of my morning walks on the way to work. I had done the same thing in front of the mirror creating a teacher-student conversation by myself when I was still teaching back in my hometown prior to attending my classes. Sometimes, I just have the uncontrolled tendency to do it over and over again when letting out some smothered grudges, banters, and unspoken rants.

But I am not going crazy. And before I could have been, the volition to go back home had finally materialized. A few days after that magnificent meal, after that ambrosian experience of the product of my betrayal to my dad and my brother who industriously fed the duck with succulent earthworms almost day in and day out, I made the decision to swallow my pride and be reunited with my family. But there was a fear growing in my forsaken self. I had never got the chance to really communicate with my brothers about how my parents felt about my running away from home. I had doubts whether my dad was still willing to forgive me or not. I knew my pregnant mom was, but not him. I could picture his stoic face ignoring my plea for forgiveness. He had always been like that, not so expressive of what he felt. There were times I knew, he wanted to say he loved me despite hurting me several times but maybe he wasn't just used to that kind of drama. He hated drama madness and that is the culprit as to why we never learned how to kiss them, hug them, get their hands dabbed on our foreheads as a traditional way of showing respect to elders in the Philippines. Not even say I love you, nor greet each other "Happy Birthday."

Dark sun

I wanted to go back home and that yearning to see my family again after being away for several weeks was even more inflamed when I heard from a relative that my mom had just given birth to the only girl among my siblings. My happiness was beyond horizon but I felt bitter and hesitant still that seeing my family especially the newly born angel at home would entail enough courage from me. The fear I had for my inebriate dad when I was younger persisted in my teen life though he had started cutting loose from the intoxicating addiction. I had to gather my strength enough to humble before my parents especially my dad, and I almost gave up thinking how to possibly push through with the plan that day.

Almost feeling hopeless, I sought courage from the power of the ubiquitous brand of gin available in all the stores in the neighborhood with Brandon(Kuya M's younger brother) up until around ten p.m that night.

To be continued...

4 comments:

morinn said...

I think it's normal to be engage in a soliloquy. It helps people to prepare themselves to face certain situations. :P It happens to me too. Especially when I'm late for class. I rehearse what excuse I will give to the lecturer! :P

Black_Mamba said...

Isa lang ang masasabi ko - babalik ka rin! Nangaling na ako dyan Sis, at ganun din ang ginawa ko lol.......

MONACO said...

talking to yourself? welcome to the club. they say great minds really do that.

I hope more pinoy parents would change their parenting style. do away with the stern, unapproachable style and start opening the lines of communication.

Jerad Kaliher said...

Trust me when I say I know exactly what you mean. I've been dreaming of school ever since I left.

I think I even still have the strong desire to go get my MBA sometime soon. But we'll see!