Earlier, I was on an ordinary bus going to Novaliches with my mom. There were no more seats available so we had to remain standing until a seat gets vacant.

My mom is 59 years old. My left arm is injured and is on a cast.

AND, THE GUYS WOULDN'T GIVE UP THEIR SEAT FOR EITHER OF US.

I felt like being bitch-y, so I blurted out to the guy nearest my mom: "Excuse me! Would you be a gentleman and give your seat to my mother?!!"

Reluctantly, he gave the seat to my mom.

What the heck was that???

Filipinos weren't like that. Before, any guy would give up a seat to a lady, whether she's old, injured or physically capable. Now, I had to be bitch-y to ask for a seat!!!

It's just sad.



It's been a little crazy lately.

I broke my arm, specifically my ulna. So as of the moment, my whole left arm is on a cast, hence, I can't move my fingers properly. It was at the peak of that crazy storm when it happened, along NLEX, when we stopped over Chowking. The nasty wind with splashes of rain blew me away causing me to slip.

We didn't head back to some Orthopedic hospital, instead they made me endure the pain for a 2hour drive to Pulilan. Unfortunately, there wasn't any orthopedic doctor around so my mother said we should just go to Cabanatuan. We went to another government hospital there and they used a hard splint to protect my arm.

I had to attend my cousin's wedding, my aunt's 80th birthday, a week in Aurora (no swimming for me), my uncle and aunt's wedding anniversary with a cast on :(

What I didn't know is that the broken-ness of my arm worsened. A week after, I went to the Orthopedic hospital here in Quezon City and they said, if I went there much earlier, they could've fixed it. But since I went there a week after, they can't do anything much but let the bone grow or fix itself that way.

I could undergo surgery to fix it, so there wouldn't be any weird bumps on my arm. I'm still not sure about it, though.

Sigh.

Goodbye to soccer try-outs.

I guess I should have said something. Anything. I mean, for a guy who wants to be a writer, it suddenly seemed like no words had ever been written. But when someone tells you that they somehow stopped missing you, you're pretty much screwed no matter what you say.

See, but there had to be something right, something that no one had ever said in the history of the world, something that could change this?

- Lucas Scott, One Tree Hill

What could that something be? I need to know.

Sometimes, I get tired of being so many things that I just want to lay down in bed and go to dreamland.

---

Isn't it tiring to be a daughter, a sibling, a girlfriend, a friend, a Med student, a Catholic, a relative all at the same time? Is being alive suppose to be tiring? Because God knows, I'm tired.

---

I'm tired. I'm weak. I want the inevitable already.

I'm pissed.

---

At the end of A.Y. 2009, we moved to Novaliches, coming from Tomas Morato. We, me and my siblings, live here alone because our parents still run the store at Tomas Morato. We're fine living on our own; washing our own dishes, tidying up the dining table, cooking our meals. But, sometimes, they visit and mess everything up. They make sure we still get our dosage of yelling, at least twice a week.

They go here and rant, rant, rant. Freaking mouths, they've got.

They fret about senseless stuff we don't care about. Earlier, my mother, the God of All Mouths, kept babbling about why we kept our clean clothes downstairs. I rolled my eyes and thought, "because I'm still downstairs. Wouldn't it save more energy if I carry it upstairs when I'm going to hit the bed already?!" But, I kept quiet. She continued to babble, so I took my clothes, went upstairs and never came back down. I went down when she finally left. Ah, silence, at last!

The silence didn't last much because my father came over to pick my mother up, but she left already. So now, it's my father's turn. WTF?!

I am friggin' deaf.

The saddest thing about this is that I can't say a thing. Because no matter how I loathe them, they feed me and they pay for my tuition.

I can't wait for the day that I could finally tell them to SHUT UP.

So much for trying to be a good girl, eh?



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