Sometimes, when you put a little piece of you on your work, a literary piece perhaps, and you got too attached on it like you treated it as your best work ever, you tend to expect things from it, you tend to expect others to like it also, to admire it, to give it the right commendation you think it deserves. I think it’s human nature. We tend to put a little bit of ourselves on something important to us, on something which signifies our own personality, of our own pleasure. But yeah, I think one of the biggest despair in it is that if things don’t fall under your own expectations.
See, I made a short story for my Creative Writing class as my final paper for this semester. Since I had this feeling of trust and confidence towards the idea I’ve formulated, I just gave it a go and finished the whole material. Actually, it took me more or less three concepts to arrive in that particular idea, and it still took me a long while before I made that idea into a full-blown plot. And that plot, of course, took me a long time before I managed to create a very satisfying short story.
It was titled Daytime With Trixie. I thought it was good enough to please my teacher. My sister said it was a good one, and that I can even send it to the Young Blood section of The Philippine Inquirer. And to me, I was really confident on that piece of work, because I’ve been on almost a week of sleepless nights just to finish it. And it was somehow attached to me. I even had to listen to Beyonce’s songs when I lacked inspiration. If Beyonce’s not enough, the classic ABBA songs like Chiquitita helped me to put myself on the mood. I did everything to finish the material. Because it is somehow important to me.
It is really important to me.
And yeah, I spent much money on that shit. I spent my remaining money, which is more or less 300 pesos just to print those things out. I could have bought myself my long-desired havaianas if not for it. I know my priorities, of course, and if I really would love to have a good grade on that subject, I need to push in my limits.
I know for a fact that that creative writing class is some sort of a gamble. My grade doesn’t just depend on my writing capabilities, my creativity and my charm. It will depend most on what my teacher wants to see, what she really want to read. Yes. Nangangapa ako sa dilim.
But my efforts didn’t work. I got DOS. A plain DOS for that unusually beautiful short story. And that DOS, mind you, pushed me to the cliff. I am now hanging on the cliff. It’s make or break. If I won’t get a decent grade on my BC10 class, the chances of being in the College Scholar list will be gone. Bye-bye CS.
You may think I was a little bit grade-conscious. Yes, I am, and it’s just recent. I really need to make it to the CS list. Nahihiya ako sa Ate ko. My sister attends to my academic needs. From tuition, baon, lahat lahat na. Nakakahiya na talaga. Though hindi ko man ipinapahalata na naaapektuhan ako, nasa loob ko pa rin yon. It isn’t her duty to take care of my needs, though she still do it with no hesitations. Kaya nga ang pagiging CS na lang ang maisusukli ko sa kanya eh.
And of course, Ms. Mooney did it again. I won’t blame her for my lame grammar, because I indeed have problems on that and my high school education could be blamed for that. I was initially having some problems on writing and of applying what I’ve learned in the course to my short story because frankly speaking, I’ve learned nothing from her. Thanks to the jinx schedule and the very annoying weather conditions plus her two-week Spain Tour-spree. I really can’t blame anyone but her. No, I can’t blame myself either, because I was really trying really hard to think of the things I’ve learned in her class. Sorry, pero kung meron, hindi ko na alam kung nasaan sila ngayon.
Ms. Mooney, I hope you’re reading this (I know you know this blog.). Though it may look that I’m a little bitter on having a DOS on your subject (which others may call a decent grade, mind you) I don’t care. I really would just love to scar your face at this moment. No. just joking. 🙂 I’m not that kind of violent. Haha.
Kidding aside, I really wished one time that I had the ability to control the time and return to that moment that I’m preenlisting for my 1st semester at the university. Sana hindi ko na lang kinuha ang klase mo. Ooops. I remember. I really didn’t preenlist on your subject. I preenlisted my name on Ms Heidi Emily Abad. Hmmm. IT’S UP’S FAULT! WAAAAH. Damned rotation thingy. Arrrgh!
Okay. I’m okay now. (inhale-exhale)