Drunk Dialing

3 am.

* phone rings *

“Man, it happened. You were right. I should’ve listened to you. He broke my heart. I thought I was the only girl he loved. He told me that. You know that he told me that. I believed in him. I gave up everything just for him. Time, effort, hopes, dreams. All! I regret everything now. I don’t know what to do. I was really thinking that I was his one and only princess. Didn’t know there was another one. I was just having half of his love, or, worse, 40% of it. Why does it need to be us?

“I found it out. I saw him in a coffee shop, holding a girl’s hand. You were right. It was that girl. They were doing things we were doing. I stood and looked at them from a distance. The moment their lips met, I wanted to die. Why me?

“I’m sorry. I should’ve listened. But I was submerged in the world we thought we had.

“You were so good. You weren’t just a friend, you were my brother. You cared for me like I cared for him. It’s crazy but I just realized you’re the nice guy I wanted.

“You’re so good. Fuck it, why aren’t you my boyfriend?”


Crazy Psychology

I’m no psychology major. But nowadays it seems that I’m one. Why?

For almost 2 years now my right hand is suffering carpal tunnel syndrome and this forces me to put tapes or bandages on my hand, which leads to public curiosity. When people ask me why I taped my hand, I always tell them the root reason why.

Here’s the story. 2 years before (I was a senior high school student that time) I was practicing some hand and head stands on my room, on the bed. Then when I was on the hand stand, I put my weight in a wrong side and, boom!, I sprained my right hand. That important hand. Then the week after that incident, my hand was still sore that I have to wrap it in bandage and I have to go to my gastroenterologist to have my tummy checked. Then when I arrived in her clinic, I got myself checked and she asked what happened to my hand, if I was a volleyball player and all. Then I told her I sprained it on the bed. That made her brows flying.

Then just this week. It got back again and I need to tape my hand. People were asking me and I told them that I sprained it in bed. Girls were thinking I got my hand squished in my own weight (which is true) and boys were thinking I had some le sexy time happening during the weekend (which I wished was true. No. I’m just kidding.).

So, to conclude. I sound like a Psychology major saying this to people to see their reactions to study it. Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you, my right hand.

(That just sounds so sexual.)

Strike 2

I always am a failure. Again, I dazed out in the middle of my speech in the Asian Parliamentary debate. In the first place I know I would fail because I don’t have a strong argument. Second, I don’t know what we really are talking about. Third, again I was not confident with myself. I should have learned on my first attempt but failed. One was bad and got worst.

This made me think. When in PolSci we keep on debating, will I survive? Can I debate without breaking down after? Can I debate and speak in front people with authority and conviction? I doubt it.

Since before, after high school, every time I speak in front of a crowd I never had a moment when my hands would go cold and shiver and my voice would falter. When they said one failure is enough to teach you. I’m on strike 2. When will I learn?

Maybe God doesn’t want me to speak in front. Or maybe He wants me to speak but I was just a sissy to stand up and speak without any hint of weakness?

Another question. Is this curriculum for me? I keep on pushing myself to this but what if I am not really for this? I keep doubting. Doubting on myself. Doubting on my capabilities.

Maybe I am not really for this. Or I am not sure.

This just shows that I don’t know myself. Until now.