Speaking of shit, sometimes you just have to eat your own. If you reject pieces of shit again and again, there will come a time that your septic tank called 'pride' would be overflowing with crap. That's when you'd need to immerse yourself and eat the shit. This though doesn't necessarily mean that you need to constantly eat shit, rather, knowing where to dump shit. And it's not going to be your pride that'd help you dispose shit. And oh, don't forget about your own shit too. You'd be fucking your own fate if you shit on your septic tank more often, which would eventually make you a septic tank worth shitting on.
Learn to accept or you'd be another piece of shit.
Dump yourself first or others might do it for you before you even lift your finger.
I've learned to accept my fate lately; there are others out there that are much worse. So, acceptance huh? What's this all about?
Dictionary.com comes in handy during these times of crisis.
AC-CEPT-ANCE
–noun
| 1. | the act of taking or receiving something offered. |
| 2. | favorable reception; approval; favor. |
| 3. | the act of assenting or believing: acceptance of a theory. |
| 4. | the fact or state of being accepted or acceptable |
1.) Fate has dismissed me from Ateneo.
2.) I approved of it already.
3.) I started to believe in tragedy.
4.) Fate has accepted me this way.
I am my fate.
But the big question still remained: Why would I want to forget about everything? And Bianca? Why, all this time, would I want to fucking shit on my ass?
The big answer was the same question. 'Why.'
I've accepted that I am 'honorably' dismissed from my university and I've accepted that I'm one big disappointment to my parents, considering that I was the first Atenean from the family. I've accepted that I've failed in school and that the inevitable truth of my QPI (Quality Point Index - the grading system of the Ateneo) did not meet the requirements of a probationary student.
I've accepted that both my grandfathers already left this mortal world, and my main reason of taking up a Chemistry-related course in order to invent some goddamn shit of a medicine to cure cancers is now in vain. I've seen myself from my clan's point of view - perhaps a useless guy now.
I've accepted too that my parents sort of loathed me (well that's what I felt at the time) and I've accepted that I'm going to lose all my friends in school - from simple acquaintances, to block mates and classmates, from AMP people, from my band, from my group... But still.
Have I accepted the reality already? I haven't even accepted myself, yet. You see, that's how unclear my mind was.
Alcohol straighten things out. I swear. That's what I've been doing after I submitted my last semester requirement - the History paper regarding my museum visit at Ayala with Ian and Bianca. That was when my semester was officially over, and then, my throat was a stream of alcohol all the way.
I remember it was the 6th of April at a resto bar somewhere in Ortigas near an Autostore when I was drinking with my dad. We've been checking several rides the whole day and he's planning on changing his car to something definitely faster and we've been discussing it all day long. So to end our whole day trip, we had a drink.
5:34 pm when I received Bianca's last text message for the day saying,
"If you're a good boy, you don't need to be told what to do," she calmly said. Well, I always needed her for me to be able to cut down my alcohol intake because I act like a fucking baby that asks for discipline. Haha.
Anyway, Dad and I took a table in the middle of the place. There were only three or four guys hanging around so the resto bar was a little silent. There were dimmers that lit the place and the ceiling fans were rotating slowly as if they're taking part of a whole day's exhaustion. The view from our table was great - it was overlooking all of Valle Verde - like a sense of tranquility and solitude from modernity. We've been talking about cars and engines while gazing at the distance that felt so far from urban life. Eventually, the flow of the talk shifted towards my relationship with Bianca, not as a boyfriend of course, but just a good friend.
"So, what's the plan, son?" he asked me when we were halfway our drinking session.
"I dunno," I placed my bottle down on the table and had both of my hands behind my head while slouching on my seat.
"What's with the answer?"
"I'm confused, dad. Should I continue or what? I'm driven to screws and bolts and nuts. My mind's goddamn twisted from thinking of her. As stupid as it sounds I assure you that this time it's fucking real," I slowly replied after taking my cap off and pitching it in to the table.
"Drink more, then talk."
I did, then I continued.
"Well, dad, she's the first girl I ever loved. I didn't believe at first that such a phony thing could exist. But then, it was just right in front of me, from nowhere... I couldn't believe it myself. Love is fucking real, dad."
"Do you love her?" he straightforwardly asked. His tone changed and he placed down his bottle of Red Horse on the table. He looked me straight in the eye and I knew he was serious.
"Well, yeah... but--"
"Yes or no?" he interrupted without any hesitation.
"Yes!" I quickly replied.
"So what are you shitting about? You know, Mike, once you find a girl you'll love and you're sure that you love her, go for it. Because once you turn your back on her, poof... There goes your dream. You'll never be able to find someone like her again. And if ever you'll do such stupidity, backing out or something of the similar shit, a '&#$%&@#' is already waiting for you." he said before taking another sip from his bottle.
Now that's what I call motivation.
When we finished our drinks, we went home. Dad drove to the limits of his car and it was goddamn fast - faster when you have alcohol in your blood - fastest when your senses fail but instinct.
Instinct.
I've finally accepted what I've been feeling deep inside me. Well, maybe not exactly accept but more of comprehend. Acceptance is a hard word, and it needs comprehension first before it's put into action.
When I told Bianca before that I love her, I was 100% sure; this time though, it's 500.
-----
[Click to go to the next chapter]
No comments:
Post a Comment