Last morning, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed (again). Take it literally. Figurative configurations of such statement is forgivable, but will be somewhat verging on the blurred fringes of absurdity. My bed, though comfy and bouncy has this spot where even the heaviest of weight could not nudge down. I woke up with my face firmly planted on the stiffness, cheek down motionless. I’ve got to repair my bed, and make it a top priority. Honestly put, I’ve got to let a professional with an adequate knowledge on bed repair fix it. If I’d be doing it myself, I’m sure to aggravate the already non-conforming spot of my bed.

But in spite of waking on the wrong side, I got something beneficial out of it. I don’t know if it is beneficial, but it did give me an early brain aerobic stretching. Usually when I wake up early morning during class days, I tend to either unwaveringly decide to go to school or unwaveringly decide not to go to school. Either way, it’s a decision so hard to make that it takes me the totality of my sleep to make a firm decision. But this morning was different. I got ambivalent as to whether or not I should show up for my On-the-job training in my alma mater during highschool. I lied down like an obese worm would. Tangle myself with my dust-infested blanket and looked fixedly on my plywood ceiling.

I noticed how it was arranged in a predestined pattern. One ply wood carefully placed adjacent to another, with a fixed and proportionate distance amongst each and every one of them. A work of art found in the simplest of quasi-accidental, everyday objects. The patter of half-witted droplets conceived by the prattling of my just-cleaned AC is noticeable despite the palaver of modern pandemonium. The quick-appearing and the quick-disappearing grumble of three-wheeled income generator, hearing it behind the thinly put up walls of my room, seems to be persuading and encouraging everyone to wake up. I woke up at around six in the morning, with nothing in mind but a corruption of ambivalence. I closed my eyes again hoping to be revisiting dreamland once again. Forceful sleep will never lead you to the realm of cloudy dreams and crystalline fantasies. If anything all it ever gives you are two-ton eyes. Up until now, the after effects of such weight is still perceptible, and is causing me a lot of havoc and dilemma of want and propriety.

This was my second day on my training, and I’m starting to get the handle of things. The nuances of having to serve is novel to me, and if anything it made me fully understand that being commanded to do things you do not want to be doing is a step towards your goal. Sometimes, we have to swallow a great deal of our pride for us to realize that humility is always a golden medallion where only few are worthy of ever donning. Although I do not like the routine life, and believe me, I have avowed myself not to ever live a life of routine, but sometimes we must take routes we normally would take and get the hang of things before we shift our attention towards something we are ignorant at. The secret ingredient of a life of happiness is knowing that there are no secrets. Life is superficial. What you see is what you normally get. If you do not get what you would normally get, it means that you got what you deserved, which is a much better thing than any other.

I have once again lost track of a structured material to be writing with. I am not the person who grabs unto pillared bylaws and standards of writing. And really, I must stop making myself the limelight of my write-ups; it would not do me any good.

Let me just share that March 05, 2010 is the first stride which paved the way for everything. March 03 was the gun blast. This was a Friday, and it was a night like any other night which ended nothing short of a very memorable moment. I saw her up close in person. What transpired was an underground meeting of people who, having realized that nothing has changed, carried the flag of change. She was just a chair in front of where I was smilingly sitting. Behind her was a person of incredible proportions (pun intended), which made it harder for me to inspect what made her what she is. She sometimes took a side-view position which made it angularly fit for me to lay eyes on her oblivious face. Actually, I never had the perfect chance of perfectly looking at her. Time just wasn’t on my side. I have that person behind her to blame! Although she recently reported not having noticed me there, at that night, it doesn’t really matter now, since I can already look at her unintruded and up close.

Tonight, I’ll be sleeping with no burden of waking up early the next day since my alma mater doesn’t have any classes. I will be lulled by the thought of having a straight night’s rest. They say that you must surround yourself with inspiration, I am surrounded by an inspiration of mine (I hope she knows who she is), and it never felt so excruciatingly reveling. I want to celebrate the momentous moments where, when I look at her, makes me realize how life has been kind to me lately. She’s the one person that puts up a smile on my toiled face by simply smiling herself. Her residual aroma ensues a deathly embrace of emptiness, that when gets stuck on my anticipating skin, makes me gab the things I admire about her.

I am being lulled by the soporific climate inside my room, and I am not so much of a strong-willed combatant to deny the nightly visit of Mr. Sleep. I’ll be entering the realm of the unreal and take my perfunctory bow towards the beauty of life behind the first-person view of reality. I’m loving piglet! And I know why. =]