Across the street, a coconut tree stands tall behind a house. Every afternoon, I would hear a sunbird singing on that tree while a group of rock pigeons glide around it. On this windy morning, gentle puffs of air sway its slender leaves and its greenness glimmers with the sun.

It's five days before Christmas, and I am haunted by thoughts of apathy and seclusion. Right at this very moment, my head is filled with pictures of unfamiliar places and people with red hair, of carousels and snowflakes, and of dark alleyways and a warm fireplace. And what I want to do more than anything else is to buy a plane ticket to another continent. First, I would fly to South Africa, so I could watch the animated stripes of a dazzle of zebras while they run away from a suspicious lion. The next morning, I would steal a spotting scope from a tourist in Brazil, and spend an afternoon in a rainforest observing the hot pink feathers of flamingos. Then, I would take a plane to Sri Lanka, where I could watch a man with a turban charm a snake from a basket. I would take Tagalog lessons in a Russian university, sleep beside a bear's carcass in a cave in China, and sit beside Lonesome George on a rock in Pinta island. After two and a half years of studying viticulture in France, I would go to Alaska, sit on a floating sheet of ice while the gentle waves of polar lights dance on the sky. And I would wait until my body turns numb from the coldness of the air. And until the lights fade away.

But there's nothing more lonely than the song of a sunbird on a windy morning.

We write our own stories.
We control our own lives.
Nobody else is there to play the protagonist.
But a protagonist is not a protagonist without the plot.

I control my own life.
I can make things right again.

I can help them make things better.
I will help them.

I will never again assume that every thing is and will be alright. Not ever.
Life is always out to get you.

Conspiracies are for real.
They don't just happen in movies.

I am angry.
I have been betrayed.
I am disappointed.
I don't have the courage to be the villain in yours even if I want to.
I am sad.
I have lived almost my whole life believing I made the right decisions, I thought I did the right things.
I am hurt.
My trust has been violated.

But I won't give up believing in happy endings.

I control my own life

My story is going to end happy.

I will be happy. Someday.

And I will never be the same again.
None of us will ever be.

I want to hate. But I can't.
Don't let me hate. Please. I am begging.

I became a better person once.
I will become better again.
For everybody.
For myself.
For you.

This time I'm not going to lie and say I'm fine because I really am not. And I think I have had enough. I have had enough of lies.

Before I left for Gubat, we visited a friend's father in Philippine General Hospital (PGH). He had two cardiac arrests and was already relying on a machine to breathe properly. He had this long, white elastic hose bandaged around his mouth, and a couple of transparent, narrow tubes that wound around his arms. The nurse was feeding him through his nose with food that must have been put in a blender earlier. His bed jumped with his chest every time he gasped for air. His eyes were closed, he could only flap his right arm and bend his right knee.

I stared at him. I stared at him for what seemed like hours. I listened to the creaking of his bed when he fought for air. I smelled the tonic-like waft that came from the used up bottles of medicine beside his bed. I sensed the tightening of his muscles when he tried to move his arms and legs. Yet I felt so distant.

I saw my father on the bed in an orange hospital gown. Fighting for his life. With bags of blood being transfused into his dying body. Needles piercing his yellow skin.

Around eight hours after we arrived here in Gubat, I received a text message from my friend. Her father finally gave up.

Maybe it is for the better. Maybe it is.

Friday, I went to UP so I could settle the requirements for my practicum application but Sir G was nowhere to be found. Also met with Iris. Then, we went to Trinoma to catch Chef Mariano. To no avail, we tried to straighten out our HRIM 111 Lab standing with the Chef.

Gawd, Iris gained weight! No pictures though. But she is way healthier now. Haha. She was so skinny before like she barely ate anything. Now, only after 2 months of bumming around she finally fulfilled her dream of having more meat in between her skin and bones. Haha. xD Kudos to you, Iris! And more dreams to come true! LMAO! xD

Dayan, Janrey, Jocel and I initially planned to go to Divisoria yesterday. Dayan wanted to purchase some office clothes for her new job. But we settled for the ukay stores along the LRT1 - Libertad station. Ukay stores are thrift shops, where you can find all kinds of imported garments and accessories. Items are about 75% cheaper because they're second-hand. So, of course, you would have to make sure to soak the bought clothes in hot, hot water when laundering. Otherwise, suffer the itch and, probably, the body odor you would acquire. Mygawd, disgusting. I used to have an affinity for ukay during my late high school years but I eventually went back to being a fan of the un-worn.

And today was pretty much a normal day. Boring. But exhausting.



I have milk! I had been unable to remember my need for milk whenever I go to the grocery store. But, yesterday, my back had been extra persistent on reminding me that I have an awful case of scoliosis. So I bought a carton of the said substance. But Housemate Janrey has been drinking along with me, so pretty soon I will have to remind myself to restock.

( Read the rest of the entry... )

Since I climbed down a volcano's crater [refer to this entry] in a jacket, with only my face prey to the heat of the burning sun, my nose has been burnt. It is currently colored in different shades of brown and with the tip of my nose the darkest. I didn't know that I was burnt so badly until my nose started peeling. My color doesn't go back to normal that fast, thanks to my late father's genes. So it'll probably take a couple of more weeks before my face tones again. I look older and more stressed when my skin color is dark. xD

Anyway, in other news, I had dinner with my two elder sisters last night. It was nice to be able to spend time with them again. We had Sinigang na Sugpo (Prawns in Tamarind Soup) and Liempo (Pork Belly) at Krocodile Grille. I haven't tasted that good a sinigang in months, with just the right extent of sourness. The grilled pork wasn't exceptional but neither was it short from delicious.

Reading trisianna's latest entry made me feel really old and erm technical and less depressed. She had poetry and it took me back to when I still knew how write and express myself in a lyrical way.

The last real poem I submitted to deviantArt:

The Bleak, Weak With

There are castles, high and grand.
There are towers which stand on clouds,
Fog and air, cold and wet, sweet breeze, sour rays.
The hearths of knights and maidens fair.
They bring the stars down on earth;
They strum the night with voices high;
They fill the skies with uttered hope.
But in the hills, there breathe the witches.
On some days, old. On some days, young.
They hoot like owls and ride their sticks,
Like dappled rainbows, pass the moon.
While maidens sing, the witches snort.
While knights hunt, the witches slay.
They live on fear and not on glee.
They bathe on tears and feed on gloom.
Vile, they say, vile and banished.
But forgotten, I always bawl.

One fainted night, while red flames flare,
Not failing the heavens like swirling bones,
While roaches march on grey, tan dirt,
The witches dance, their broomsticks tap.
In one crooked wood, there sat one witch,
Pale and brittle, her eyes were black, her lips so red.
She freed one sigh and looked beyond.
Down! Away! Where the princess chants.
Oh, how she wanted to flee from dark!
Oh, how she wished to see moist grass!
This witch was called the bleak, weak witch.
She wishes on stars and drinks not mire.
Her black eyes wish to see blue skies,
No more grey, she always says.
The witch’s name, they did not know, they dared not ask,
For those black eyes rein the grass,
The swamps, the ants and the blue, white fire.
She was a princess, herself, she was.
She ruled the hills and the under lives.
Yet they did not know,
She need not rule,
She need not want to fly and slay.

Submitted on the 7th day of September, 2005. It has been that long. It used to come so natural, like it was instinctive. Now, I don't have a way with words anymore. I think I've lost it. Does that really happen when you get closer to the age of menopause? Haha. I'm 20. Another May and I'm 21. Haha.

Or maybe I'm less depressed. I find it easier to work with words when I'm emotionally disturbed. I also haven't published an entry in my Tagalog journal since January.

Or maybe I'm just extra unhappy. More paranoid than usual. My subconscious excessively intruded by phantasms of misery that I've lost the ability to write about them.

Poison Vines

Tears:

Forever,
Slithering
Down
Like
Vines
Of
Dirty
Ivy.

May 2, 2005

Yes, I was pretty disturbed. A dysfunctional family and an unwanted academic path, plus bogeymen from my childhood. I don't know how I survived. Life really does get better, but only if you try your hardest to make things work. And it's like a piece of machinery, it needs maintenance. You only become happy if you keep your factors happy. Neglect could mean a deathly plunge. Like what I'm doing now.


P.S. Just found a new batch of pictures of the hike. From my cousin's camera.


Grace, Me, Liza and my face all red

I think I just lost a good friend.
Because I'm really no good at this.

I'm sorry. But I want to make things right.
I just don't know how I'm going to tell you.
There are things I want to say to you.
But it seems you've been chasing me off instinctively.

I want to tell you that I did like you.
(Too. If you ever did.)
And I think I still do.

So, yeah.
If everything turns from worse to worst -
I can't do nothing else but let this friendship go to waste.

I'm really no good.
I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

This is really annoying. I've been here in Bicol for a month. I'm really scared to go back to Manila. Since going back means having to face real world and grown-up issues again.

Life here in the province is very sweet. Very, very sweet. You get to live like a real bum. Like there's almost nothing to worry about. Your mom wakes you up for breakfast. You find good food on the table. And you have food any time of the day. You don't have to do your own laundry. You have WiFi. You have air conditioning. There are people to fetch you what you need. xD There really is nothing more to ask for. Plus, you don't pay for any of those! Your mom does! xP

Unlike in Manila where I have to worry about the next meal. What to eat, where to buy and, sometimes, even worrying about how I'm going to afford it. Then, the Manila heat. And the Internet. And the doing your own laundry responsibility. And everyday I have to commute.

Yeah. I complain so much. xD

Oh, don't forget about the toilet! Last semester, I lived in a University dormitory. And, everybody knows how bad the living conditions of students in dormitories are. The peeling paint. The leaks. The broken windows. The water shortage. The termites. And the very, very dirty common bathrooms. Taking a bath in a dirty cubicle with a non-working shower and moss-covered tiles and rusty pipes and clogged drains...oh, that's the worst.

No, I'm not rich. Don't get me wrong. I'm not a princess. I just hate dirty bathrooms! Don't you? I mean, c'mon, that's where you're suppose to clean yourself. Having it dirty is defeating its real purpose. ~_~ But I don't mean like bacteria-free and shiny walls. (But that would be sweeeet.) I just don't like being uncomfortable.

Anyway, I should probably start forcing my arse off this chair. It's 10:56 in the morning and I still haven't taken a bath. I ate breakfast like an hour ago. I do have a few responsibilities here like helping out in the store. And that's what I should be doing right now.

Where to start? I have no idea.

My mind refuses to move on.

Yes, yes. And I don't deny it. I am a verrry emotional person. Especially, when I know there's something behind to look back at. And I wish everything in front of me would just be a little bit less uncertain.

I'm concerned about what I'm going to do from now. I'm anxious to find out what Life has in store for me. But I'm scared that I'd be too apathetic and careless again and once more, history will repeat itself, and I'll lose control of my story.

I have so much already. I can say been there, done that about so many things so I don't understand why I'm so insecure.

Oh, this is one of those phases in my life that I need a shrink.


Iris, Collin, Cassie, Richard, Nora, Me, Maricar
Background: The Box House.:)


Aida, Iris, Kristel, Me

Who would've wanted to leave?

I did enjoy my stay there. Well, yes, it was boring. We followed a routine. Everyday was the same. We wake up, eat breakfast, ride the same car to work, open the restaurant, work for more than 5 hours, go home, eat dinner, and sleep. But what made everything worthwhile were the things in between. Cassie's stories during the rides, the hugs for and from Aida, the hellos from Kristel, the satisfied smiles of the customers, the holas from Victor, Nora's jokes, Tammy's lessons, and a lot more.



I learned so much from the people I worked with that I would have never learned from lectures.

I miss Johnny Rockets and The Box House. A lot. :(

We never thought we'd be missed. It didn't really occur to me that people would cry when we leave. But they did. xD I wasn't very happy when we left. Dang, I was crying. And I was crying in front of other people. It was so much I couldn't wait until I had the chance to be by myself and pour my heart out. And would you believe they were happy when we missed our flight? O_O Haha! But, it makes me feel good - the thought that they were sad to see us go...because it made me realize that, somehow, we did something right. That they were glad we stayed and worked with them.

"You were the best employees Johnny Rockets has ever had. We wish we get more associates like you." - Jason, when he said goodbye to us at the airport

"Don't leave! I need you!" - Kristel, I don't remember how many times she said it xD

"Stay. You can stay in my house for free." - Aida

"You're my best friend, Joan!" - Aida, while cooking xD

"Oh, you can marry my son then you can stay." - Aida

(Yes, Aida is very crazy.)

"Welcome back!" - Cassie, when we missed our flight

"Joanna. I'm going to miss you, Joanna." - Victor

"I'm going to miss you, guys. You worked very hard." - Tammy

"Good? You weren't good. You were great!" - Juanita

"You were the best J1 students we've had." - Gilbert

LOL. Yeah. Mayabang kami. xD You know what? I would've gladly stayed. Aside from the fact that I loved the people there, I was earning good money. Very good money that at a point the thought of going back to school made me laugh. But Christ! I believe I know better.

Sana ganun na lang kadaling bumalik. Yung tipong, "Manong pabili po ng ticket." Sasakay ka lang ng bus tapos andun ka na." Pero kasi hindi.

So here I am. What to do? Joan, you're 20 years old. You're young. You can enroll next semester. You're in the best school in the country. You've gone through so many things in life. You're finally enjoying what you decided to do in life. What the fcuk is wrong with you?

Nothing. Start all over again. Goddamnit.

Yo necesidad...

Googling can be a very profound activity.

I typed in a few names earlier, checked the results and bam! were they overwhelming. Results like those make me want to cower and sulk and bite my nails. I guess this is what you call 'eating my own words.'

This is the first time, since I made the decision to take the other path, that I thought about it this deeply.

I've always wanted to be like them. I've always wanted to be them. Now, I'm too far away to ever peg with them. I wish I had the courage to pursue what I really wanted. But you know what? Here's one consoling thought: I'm also given the chance to be someone here, I can always strive to be the better in this lea.

You know how incredibly disappointing it is when you suddenly realize you can't be that person?

I've known it for a while now. And I've been sighing heavily. But tonight it struck me.

Life is not really unfair. The unfairness comes when you let it. Sometimes, you try to blame it on something else, on someone else. But, eventually, your consciousness gets a poke. And your world would start to shatter. But then again, it will only shatter if you let it. That poke will always be painful. No safeguard is going to be strong enough to keep you sleeping.

Really. I've been in a daze for too long. And I'm just about to completely wake up. I wish someone would throw a bucket of cold water in my face. So waking up won't be as arduous. And it won't be as painful.

WTF am I talking about?

Nothing. I just feel weird. For failing. As a someone I've been wanting to become. That's where the problem lies, I guess. I've just been wanting, and I haven't been trying.

Haha. I'm chattering shit.

And my world shatters.

The end.

(Oooh, chatter rhymes with shatter! O_O)

Great.

I finally received a call from NCO (read previous entry). All I need to do now is show up on Sunday and sign the contract. But wait, training will start on the 14th and we have a catering report on that day. Great. Great. Great. The caller said the training would start on 6AM until 3PM. I have a class for, practically, the whole day (8:30AM to 5:30PM). I asked if there was a different schedule, and he said there was a 2PM-11PM shift. I signed up for it -hahaha- even though I'm not sure what time our report would end.

I have to talk to my groupmates regarding our report schedule.

Damn that 30,000! Imagine earning that much money in less than a month -- in 2 weeks (plus a week of training)! And free pizzas every night. You also get a chance to take home a gaming console. Damn!

FCUK. I already have plans for that money. I'm so lucky I got that call but...I'm not sure if I'm going to take the job. :( Damn.

( read the rest of the entry... )

I was watching a group of kids playing soccer. It was 8 in the morning and the sun's rays were still gentle. A short breeze touched my cheeks. And for the first time in months I felt that great sense of serenity.



Sunken Garden has always been my favorite spot in the campus. I've been a loyal lover of the landmark since my first year. And even before I entered the university I've heard of it's strangeness. So the first time I was able to gaze at it, from an Ikot Jeepney, I made myself promise that I would spend my free afternoons there.

( read the rest of the entry... )

For some very unwise decisions in the past, I'm going to graduate later than ever.

I'm trying to choose between two roads right now. Do you know that feeling when you already want an option but can't choose it because you know you'll benefit more from the other? Well -- that's not what I'm feeling. Hah. And that's even worse. I really have no idea where to go. I don't have the slightest bias of choosing one over the other. I'm cut in between. And I feel like my eyes are going to bulge out any second from this great tension. No, no, I'm not thinking of shifting courses again. Are you out of your mind? This is a different matter. I'll tell once I get the courage to write about it. Right now, I feel useless and stupid.

And I feel guilty. It's eating me up again.

When did this start, anyway? I woke up this morning and realized I forgot to attend a major subject yesterday morning. I mean, whatthefeck happened? O_O For a very stupid reason I failed to go to class. I FORGOT. I wrote my schedule two nights before but I STILL FORGOT. I fcuking forgot. How dumber can I be? So, you ask, how does this connect to the dilemma mentioned earlier? I am an extremely irresponsible person. And I hate myself for that. I've been hating myself for quite some time now. But I failed to change. I've been trying to give more care to the world but, hah, here I am...careless than ever. I-don't-give-a-damn defines me very well.

I really want to be that person who thinks about her future. But I'm so careless. I've been choosing to be unaware of everything. And that just sucks, huh?

I'm contented. Right now, I am. Really. I don't need my mother to assess that. But happy? Definitely, not. But it's better to be not happy but contented; it's better to have one of those two adjectives than none at all.

And I feel really bad every time I try to play safe. But I don't want to try so hard either. Mediocrity is sadness.

I'm scared. I feel like I'm going to let a great chance pass me by. And all I'm going to do is glance and turn back.

I used to have a real desire to help the country. I was one of those people who secretly wished to join rallies along Mendiola; I wanted to openly wave my fist and conviction against those who were hindering the rise of the oppressed.

During my early years as a UP student, one of my dreams was to graduate, find a job at a local computing company and help contribute to the development of the country's technology. (I was a Computer Science student.) No, I was not going to go abroad and work for some big shot company, I would turn down offers from the list of the most prominent corporations.

I didn't try to carry the characteristics of a nationalist - I was already one, and was very passionate. I had dreams not just for myself but also for my country.

What happened?

Well, aside from the fact that I trashed the chance of becoming a Computer Scientist because I was too lazy to try to become one -- the flame died, somehow, while I visited places, met new people and grew up. It was like childhood, you outgrow it.

Maybe I wasn't a nationalist at all. But I never pretended either.

The best justification I can come up with is the fact that I've decided to pursue my individual and familial happiness first. I carry the same sentiments as almost every other Filipino college student dreaming to escape an old and rusty pothole. But I have not forgotten the dreams I have for my country. I still wish to serve people who had influenced and are influencing my existence. I still wish to create a better country for people whom I identify myself with. What happened was I decided to shuffle my priorities, wanting to assure a strong personal foundation first before manipulating the larger picture.

Guilt pokes me every now and then. Because I don't believe I'm ready to sacrifice so much of my life to help others. But neither do I have the courage to make myself and other people believe that I carry enough willingness and selflessness. I help less fortunate people in my own way and can genuinely empathize with them, but I still can't go as forgetting my own needs.

I guess this is something most of us deny. The want to be an object of development but the lack of guts to become one.

Why should I go home?

He's not dead yet. Someone already donated blood last night.

I just can't believe my mom's still the one so burdened with all these things. She shouldn't be. It's unfair.

If I go home, it would only be for one reason and that's being there for my mother. And not for anybody else.

I don't give a damn about him anymore.

I don't care.

Why should I go home?

I see no other reason. Except maybe for his funeral.

EDIT:

He's dead.

My sister called.

He's dead.

My father is.

Great. I have to be absent from school for more than a week.

Great.

I'm not really sure what has gotten into me, I'm always late for my classes again! Thought I finally corrected this bad habit. ~_~ But I do wake up early, in fact I get up 2 hours before my first class. Hah. Acually, it's Berta's fault! Berta is like my coffee. I can't leave the dorm if I don't boot her up and check my mail. And that's not good, it's anything but good. I have to start fixing this again.

And while we're on the subject of waking up...



( read the rest of the entry... )

When I was in grade school, my dream was to become a successful lawyer. I used to tell people that I was going to become one of those cool women in suits fighting for justice. I wanted to defend the innocent and punish the weaklings who resort to crime just to survive. I was an idealist even when I was six. But maybe this is true for almost every healthy children. Children dream of becoming scientists and doctors, of becoming superheroes and princesses; to romanticize things, it's a child's way and play. But, most of the time, adults find ways to meddle. Most of our childhood dreams were products of our environment. Those dreams were easily influenced because we, as children, were fragile and gullible. Since it was our parents' role to guide us, they tried to make the most of it, they subconsciously manipulated everything. I wanted to become a lawyer not because I had too much Space Sheriff Shaider in my head, not because I really believed the Earth Squadron Fiveman was a force to defend evil, I wanted to become a lawyer because my father told me I would become a fine one. Though, eventually, when I reached high school, I stopped dreaming of courtrooms and judges, such was too much for a person whose best friend was lethargy.

( read the rest of the entry... )

This is going to be another Life post, though, this time, I won't be ranting.

Some of you probably know the not-so-good relationship I have with my father. I had posted a lot of entries about him in my two previous online journals. It's not a secret that my family is dysfunctional.

I already mentioned in a previous post that he's not well. His health is deteriorating because of a disease called liver cirrhosis. In fact, late October last year, the doctor told us that he won't live any longer than a month. When I heard those words, I have to admit I was pretty ecstatic and didn't even feel the slightest guilt. At last. He was going to die. My mother, my siblings and myself, we're finally going to be able to enjoy life. Before you start accusing me of being the most evil daughter in existence, understand first that you don't really know me. You have not the slightest idea of what I've been through in my life, you probably don't even know me personally. Anyway, there, I submitted to an obligation of looking after him for almost three weeks in the hospital. I didn't protest, I didn't demand anything in return. I tried to imagine myself as some daughter who had and appreciated a benevolent father very much just so I won't be awakened by the smell of antiseptic everday with an emo face. It was hard for me to nurse someone who had ruined my life. Who, in his right mind, would even hug an angry grizzly bear? But I didn't have a choice.

( read the rest of the entry... )

I just realized I haven't made an entry about half of what actually happened with my life during the hiatus. ^^;

1. I celebrated my 19th birthday 15 days ago:



I don't usually ce-le-brate. In fact, I only remember blowing a birthday candle once, I think I was in grade school at that time. A birthday candle stuck on top of a chiffon cake. xD My family never had the habit of putting up parties. It's rare to see my mom prepare a pan full of spaghetti sauce. Most of the time, it's just noodles and a cheap cake.

My 18th birthday was the worst so far. I was sweating like a dog on crack, my arms and feet were black from dust, and tears were trickling down my cheeks. We were moving out and I, alone, was practically packing the whole apartment. Forget about it being my worst birthday, it was the worst day of my life.

Anyway, May 1st this year, we ate at Chili's, located in Quezon Ave., I think - not sure. A few minutes after the waitress served our orders, I heard a tambourine, and I knew exactly what it was for. This is me, not surprised but embarrassed:

( read the rest of the entry... )

I'll be using this layout for a few days or so. Got it from freelayouts. I don't feel like creating my own yet, so this'll do for now.

Anyway, I have not been blogging. An online friend asked me yesterday what was keeping me busy and why I haven't been blogging lately. Well, reason is...I just don't feel like it. But, really, I want to do something about it. I've been lazy towards my online obligations for quite some time now and it doesn't feel good.

Berta, my computer, crashed and wasn't fixed until a few months ago. We were separated for almost a year. Those months made me realize that I actually have a life. I actually have a life outside the Internet. I wouldn't call it real life, I consider my cyber existence real, as well.

I didn't like Berta being sick, not one bit, but the incident gave me the luxury to contemplate about the other things I have in life.

Before Berta fell ill, I already made the decision that I was going to shift to a different course, BS CS => BS HRIM. But that didn't mean I didn't have a hard time adjusting to a life without my computer. Berta isn't just a computer, she is my computer. I don't want to go into the details, it's a long story. But it's clear that I spent a couple of hellish months after Berta was drawn away from me to be nourished back to health.

I learned how to live without depending on Berta and the Internet. I learned how to eat with a plate on a dining table again. I became friends with sleep again. I realized I needed to spend more time with my friends. And I was able to focus on my studies. While Berta was in the process of healing, I was organizing the details of my life, to where they should have been a long time ago. Berta wasn't there to distract me.

I found a job. Wherever Maturity was hiding all these years, I wasn't sure, but I was pretty glad he decided to surface. I stopped toying with time and opportunities.

In fact, I got sick for a couple of weeks with Chicken Pox, but I passed all of my subjects. If Berta was present during that time, virus plus Berta would've meant disaster. History could've repeated itself again. My life would've officially adapted the title "The Cycle of Failing."

I was getting the hang of being happy. I even tried to deny that I was actually almost contented.

I was getting the hang of getting good grades. And they were getting better. Even though I still failed a couple of exams, my performance was better compared to that in my previous course.

Gathering all those things up, I was learning how to become a better me while Berta was away, and I didn't fail at it.

Now that Berta is back, I'm starting to feel that I'm returning to my old habits. Heck, I now even start brushing in front of the computer. But it'll be some time before I completely adjust to having Berta again.