Journal Entry (07/17/06 2:32 A.M.)

2:32 A.M. 07/17/06


Subject: Earth Slave
Author: Claudine F. Claudio


The world has turned into an upstart. I remember how my friend Melson Fernando once remarked to me that he consider himself as somebody for whom the world turns. Well not exactly like that, but something to that effect. A quote I have stolen from guidance testing office in Adamson provoked him to say that. Because I told him that I believe, in contrast to his, that I exist for the world. I thought I had the right belief then. I even considered Melson's remark as somewhat bragging. But now, I've learned that what he actually said was right. Why should I revolve for the world when it is literally revolving for me? Why should I conform to its rules when I am a part of God's reason why it is existing?


I can't believe I have turned into an Earth's slave. It is depressing to know that I have worked so hard to prove to everyone that I am worthy. But all this while I was trying to prove it, I'm actually falling into one the Earth's ingenious tricks to trap me into slavery. I feel so dumb. Oh God, whatever happened to me?


/ingenue07

Journal Entry (07/03/06 11.32 p.m.)

7/3/2006 11:32p.m.
Subject: School Pressure
Author: Claudine Claudio

This day is probably one of the most tragic days of my life. I was actually surprised that I didn’t show any sign of depression after I went out of the media center. I was actually all smiles and laughs with my friends and with Lance. I even told him “Aba, hindi ako bad mood ngayon ah… siguro mamaya sa bahay pag wala na akong kausap.” And I turned out right. There are 4 constant words floating around my head since I got out of the media center this afternoon. I AM A FAILURE.

“You’re the worst agency… worst agency… worst agency…”

I can’t stop the involuntary ringing of my professor’s words about our presentation. I want to cry. This is bittersweet torture. Writing my emotions down. Trying to refresh the feeling of rejection over and over again. I feel bitter. And the bitterness is towards the main character of my world. ME. Yes, in objective form. I can’t feel subjective anymore. It’s as if every little opinion I have in my dumb head doesn’t matter anymore because they’re all wrong. All pretending to be right when it’s actually brainless all along. I want to cry. Cry until my eyes run dry. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel anything anymore. But I know I’m wrong. I’ve done that before and it was of no use. There’s too much held back tears kept in my system that I feel it would never run dry. I have a reservoir of tears. Tears I have long ago concealed from the public eye. But now I want to unleash them all from the chains I have forced to them. But I won’t. Because I’m in my parent’s room and I’m supposed to be finishing my Editorial paper.

I AM A FAILURE. I feel disappointed with myself once again. I’m going back to that immature stage where I felt like I can’t do anything right. This semester is becoming such a big pressure on my shoulder. I’ve been doing my best with everything I do. My assignments. My quizzes. My papers. The Defense. I thought everything was working out fine until today happened. I got a 75 and 88 in my film analysis early this morning. That alone would have ruined my day but The Defense had to add up to my misfortunes. “…worst agency. Worst agency…” I want to die. I can’t trust myself anymore. I’m losing confidence. I’m losing hope. I feel like a loser. A person meant to self-destruct.

I can’t write a story. I’m really losing it. I’m becoming unimaginative, uncreative, brainless, shallow-minded, illogical, untalented etc. I feel useless and worthless. Now I’m crying. It does feel nice. But what can it do? It won’t bring me back to my old manic hopeful self. I’m a loser. I know I must not do this. Ma’am Liz taught me never to discourage myself because what you think reflects how you act. But at this moment, these are my present thoughts and I cannot seem to control them.

Maybe I’m really not as good as how I see myself before. I thought I was really good in school. I never doubt that before. But now I definitely do. In the past, I was certain I could be competitive. But now I’m not certain anymore. I don’t want to give up. With my old self, giving up would be my last or perhaps never a resort. But now I feel like resorting to it.

“I thought you’re with God? How can you say so if you are this shallow?”
I can hear somebody reprimanding me. Yes, how dare I lose hope and happiness? Hey, I shouldn’t even be writing this! Isn’t this the place where I actually prayed to be? A place where I can be challenged. A place where I can feel pressure but at the same time enjoy the pleasure of trying to endure it? Haha! Oh my, I’m such an idiot! Hehehehe! This is crazy. Or maybe I’m going crazy. Yes I think so ‘coz now I’m laughing!

/ingenue07

In my melancholic state...

This day has been a very sad day for me. (Yes, I can hear some people saying ‘C’mon, you’re always sad, Claudine!). Last Wednesday, somebody stole 2 of my most favorite books in the world titled “Memoirs of a Geisha” and “Joyluck Club”. It made me really depressed I can hardly talk to anyone at all. Of all things that can be stolen from me, books are the ones that mostly trigger the indignation in me. On my 2-hour trip back to Laguna, I slept all the way hoping that as soon as I wake up the sadness would be gone. But it did not. Then yesterday, I was still feeling gloomy every time I passed by the comfort room where I have forgotten my plastic bag filled with 4 books or every time I enter the media center. I thought it was normal since those 2 books really mean so much to me. I woke up this morning expecting to be back to my old self again. I thought I was because I’ve been trying to look for the bright side again thinking “at least other people could read the magnificence of Golden and Tan’s novels”. But in the media center, the sullen air went over me again. Surprisingly, I wasn’t thinking of the books anymore. By the end of my Film Appreciation class, my classmate remarked, “Claudine, bakit malungkot ka? Ang sad sad ng face mo…” In my mild horror, my favorite professor asked, “Sino?” “Si Claudine po…”

I tried to walk towards the exit with my back on them then I heard my professor’s comment which really broke my heart. “Si Claudine, eh lagi naman malungkot yan eh! Gagawan ko na nga yan ng drama (unfortunately I was unable to make out the words). I was at the door when I heard my professor’s comment so I looked back at her and tried as hard as I could to give out a wide smile as if saying “that’s not true!” when deep inside I long to go back to her and say, “Ma’am, I need help.”

I spent this day trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. I’ve been experiencing alternating mild depressions over small things these past few months. This isn’t me. I know this isn’t me. When I was in Computer Engineering I was never this serious and silent. I’m supposed to be enjoying Mass Communication. And I am! I honestly am! I’ve been dreaming to be here for years! But my emotions are failing what I’m supposed to be feeling. I can’t explain it. I’m thinking maybe it’s because back in Computer Engineering, I was never serious with my studies. I was all after the fun and not the goal to excel. I was usually the loudest in the group or even inside the class. So I was the happy-go-lucky type. But here in Mass Comm. I’m very much concerned with how I’m going to excel in this field. With how I’m going to build a name for myself that will gain the respect of others. In my former course, I don’t need any respectable name in terms of academic achievement ‘coz I was lost in that course. I didn’t care even if nobody took me seriously as a Computer Engineering student ‘coz I, myself, wasn’t serious about being one. What’s puzzling me is that I’m more comfortable with my friends in Engineering more than in Mass Communication. Of course, I’m not saying I don’t enjoy my Mass Comm. friends’ company but I only have few Mass Comm. friends whom I can show the real me. Then I realized that’s because Engineering and Mass Comm. students are two different groups of people. I was also unable to start fresh and build another group of friends because when I shifted to Mass Comm. everybody seemed to belong to one. So most of the time, I still hang out with my engineering friends wherein I don’t need to prove myself.

Still, I wonder why I feel sad and look sad to people. I think my facial expression is one major factor. Many people had told me I should smile more. Honestly, I’m trying real hard. Maybe I’m being hard on myself. I keep thinking about a lot of things that’s why I’ve been smiling less. Sometimes I feel confused with myself. I’m like two different people with my close friends and not-so close friends. I’m all smiles and jokes with my close friends while I’m not-so funny with my not-so close friends.

One other thing that I blame for my apparent depressions these past months is my desperation to write. I haven’t written or finished a story for the past 4 months. Everyone close to me knows how I dream to become a writer. And these past months I’ve been losing the will, the motivation and lastly, the confidence to write the stories I long to see in print. I’m having this ultimate fear that one day I will lose my intense passion for writing. Every time I read my articles written in hand, they don’t seem right to me. They seem too amateurish. My words, too shallow. Too wrong. I’m not the same confident writer I once was. And THIS is what’s bothering me everyday. It even came to a time when I felt resentment towards my purple journal and black leather notebook every time I see them. All because I CAN’T WRITE. I’m really afraid. Really really afraid.

I remember how my friends in engineering accuse me of having MPD. I don’t have one, of course. But I believe we all have other personalities within ourselves. I pray that someday other people can see the real me. I pray that someday I could smile more. I pray that someday I could control my emotions more effectively. I pray that someday I could bring back my trust to my own skills so I could start writing again. But for now, all I can do is pray ‘coz at exactly this moment, just as I am finishing this article, I’m feeling sad again.

/ingenue07

Our Tears - A Short Story

Our Tears
Claudine Claudio




She cried again.

I slapped her mentally and shouted, “Don’t you dare cry! Don’t you dare!”

But the tears poured out like the silent flow of a calm river. The more I forbid her to let out her tears the more stubborn she became. She was crying silently. Her ponytail went loose which brought messy strands of hair sticking wet on her face. She tried to wipe her eyes with the left sleeve of her shirt but as soon as it dried, another silent tear gushed out. Then another one. And another one.

“Oh I’m so sorry!” She cried harder, her face now buried on her palms.

“Stop it.” I said reprimandingly.

“I can’t…”

“Stop it!” I yelled angrily. “Why won’t you stop? Stop it at once or someone will see you!”

At my word, she left her chore and ran hurriedly upstairs to her room. She heard her mother cried out her name but she ignored her. There in her room she sat down on her bed and looked at me through the rectangular mirror of her 10-year old wooden cabinet. After wiping her eyes thoroughly, she stared at me intently for a moment. I waited for her to speak. But she just kept staring at me with that tired expression on her face as if I’m as boring as the color gray. Then at last she let out a big sigh.

“You know what? You suck.”

I was stunned. I didn’t believe I heard her right. “I what?”

“I said you suck. Why won’t you let me cry? Who are you anyway? Why do you keep tailing me? You have no right to tell me when and when not to cry! There’s nothing wrong with crying! I am hurt and I am in pain and all you can say is don’t I dare cry? You’re supposed to be my best friend! And you think by forbidding my tears you’re giving me comfort? No, you’re just pushing me deeper into misery! Why are you doing this? I wish you would just go away!”
My initial reaction faded. I settled my gaze at her red puffy eyes and spoke in a delicate tone.

“You remember those days when you keep disobeying mother and father’s orders? I kept telling you to stop because I don’t want to get hit. I wanted badly to obey them. I wanted to be a good girl. But still you did bad things. Still, you fought with your brother and flunked your exams. So when mother and father had to punish you for your wrongdoings, I had to share your misery too. I was in worse pain than you because I committed none of your mistakes. But I had to suffer because you were so insensitive of me. I couldn’t stop crying because you won’t let me. I was so weak then I could not take over you. So I promised myself not ever to cry in front of anybody. I must cry alone so no one could witness my pain. But I realized I could not do that. You’re in control of this body and crying alone does not matter because no one could see me anyway. How else is my pain? So as years went on, I had to learn to control you. Your tears are mine as well as your pain. I thought you’ve figured that out after all these years. It makes me so sad that you have not.”

“What? What was I supposed to figure out all this years?” She implored curiously.

“That I will do the crying for you... So you’ll be able to stand the pain.”

She sat there in a daze not knowing what to say. As I have already expected, she gave out a sob again. And there in her room she continued her crying.


This time, I was crying with her...


/ingenue07