Little Chicken says good morning to Mushy

It's 430 am and raining like there's no breaking dawn close. My brother is sleeping like a log. I just went up to pee but had trouble getting back to sleep. So I decided to pick up this machine sitting coldly at the floor beside our mattress and start scribbling on it instead.

I remember few years ago when I used to text Mushy at either very late night or earliest in the morning to confess feelings for the day like a real dairy. Stuffs like, "I'm sad today because of the same reasons why you are. Doubled by the fact that you are", "You are prettiest today", "That kiss, it must've done something bad, or good to me, I don't know. But sure I can't stop thinking of it now". Even big stuff like "I love you" and other stuff that I lack the courage to tell at your face in the middle of the day. Oh that's me when I develop these occasional little wings and do cooing. But let me borrow a teacher friend's quote of 'so slow but at least I'm moving' to justify that. It payed when I know you're waiting for my daily soliloquy. I know you missed that. Believe me, I do, too. But the little chicken developed something more braver than that.

Here I want to tell you that I'm proud of you, for being a good person, above anything else. For crying, because you think you're messed up and you don't want it. I'm proud because you didn't become cold and tough no matter how hard this big stuff of adversity hit you. For having the decency of feeling guilty about missing your responsibilities, because it is when we admit our mistakes that we do something about it. I'm proud of you because you don't dwell on the bad things for long. You could get up every morning wishing me good mornings and go to work while every bones and muscles in your body ache. I'm proud because you work with conscience which I find rarely these days.

I wake and get up everyday because there's something I'd look forward to, you. The inspiration you are giving me is stronger than gravity that pulls me back to this mattress. And I want you to know that. I know what you are capable of doing. Mediocrity isn't your stuff.

PS. Have you forgotten about me? You're not alone. <3

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me and mamush's

We bought and made these as compliance to the Department of Procrastination Prevention.

This is where we're going to write what to do's, buy, pay.

(^^,)

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M&M's Them Writing No. 2

College was like a sharp swerve in my life. I didn't see it coming. My mother and I were just falling in line for the interview in an unfamiliar green building, after which, four years of my life was sealed with unexpected, unwanted fate. That's where it all started - this feeling of confinement.

I was Editor-in-Chief of our high school publication, but I didn’t graduate with flying colors. I excel in English, Public Speaking, and Arts, at same time I’m at the bottom of my Math teachers’ list. I am a selective learner. I focus on my strengths to compensate my weaknesses, totally rejecting things where I don’t do well. But college isn’t tough for me because I’m not good in Math or any of my subjects. College was a struggle for me because I just don’t like where I’m heading. It’s like a giant quicksand for me, a downfall that happens slowly and predictably.

Should my parents never think I’d be killed for turning into a leftist and trusted me to be away on my own, I should’ve been graduating from a communication course in that university. Should I didn’t give up my dreams and idealism, I should’ve been happier. And because by that, everything follows, my transcript should’ve been more agreeable. It should’ve been a different story. Because I would be doing something I like, something I love. I’d feel something more like in college than in prison cell.

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M&M's Theme Writing No.1

Something square. Something thin. Something with a bar code but isn't sold. Something that could either save my butt or pain my ass: My School Identification Card.

I've disliked it since the first time I got it from the office, or even before I took possession of it. Only because I feel dreadful about what my face would be on it. And I'm not wrong. It's the last time my ID faced the world. I've tried putting stickers to save it and even consider telling the Office of Student Services that I lost my ID to request for another (of course, with a different picture) while using it flipped back. But it end up like that all the way. Four years have gone, no ID was reported missing, no ID was renewed. What's worse now is anything on it is barely legible, except the picture. Maybe because of poor print quality or the card or the moist from the compressed card holder, I don't know. I hate its selective deterioration.

It was never verified. I don't know how and obviously apathetic to care to know, so the twelve boxes (for 8 semesters and 4 summers) at the back were left unsigned until now.

But, no. I never planned of disposing or losing it for real in any way, for four reasons. First, renewal takes a long time and I can't explain to the guards why I'm not wearing any ID everytime. Flipped back ID is way more acceptable than no ID at all. Second, sometimes it's the only way the guard would let me in the gates and visit Mushy. Third, our Clinical Instructors check it every now and then. Fourth, it's a requirement for graduation.

Despite my apathy, I'd keep it after graduation for the sentimental idea of discovering myself capable of such apathy. Nevertheless, it's still a keepsake.

And oh, I don't have to wear it anymore.

(Yay! Haha.)

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Why do I love thee? {thee=EonGrey}

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