August 4, 2015
Dear diary (for chrissake), I woke up late in the morning around quarter to 10. Jumped out of bed from mum’s angry voice. She’s yelling my name downstairs as hell because I’m still asleep by that time. She’s complaining that I’m getting back from my old ways, being lazy and all. It was loud enough for neighbors to hear. She’ll keep on doing that as long as she sees you. So when she went upstairs, I went down. I wasn’t annoyed or something, it’s indeed late and I slept past my alarm for almost 3 hours. So yea, my fault. I would’ve been mad if she’d do that to me when I stayed up late really because of school stuff. This time, I’m more of guilty because it wasn’t. I was trying though! Don’t know exactly why but I spent my night stalking jeje people on Facebook, I got fetish on them.
If you’re close friend of mine, you know how strict my mum is. She wants you to follow exactly what she wants. I’m guessing she’s just in that “time of the month” because she also got crazy when she saw my sisters’ room messy (which usually is). When our room is messy, she’ll make it even messier. You’ll have to organize and clean it all up after as a punishment. She’ll throw everything up that it’ll end as if a supertyphoon has just passed. God, I knew where I got my temper!
Moving on, I went out straight to our backyard to sweep dried leaves. It’s a job that will never end. She also asked me to modify the chicken feeder I made because the goddamn rooster can’t fit its head in it and that it will die out of hunger. I did it right away to show her I’m sort of productive, I also decided to skip breakfast because it’s almost lunch time.
On my way to school, I heard the train approaching to the station and I’m still around hundred meters away, so I had to run like a bastard. It’s sort of embarrassing when you have to catch the train like that, you have to pass by a market and queue of vehicles waiting for the train to cross. People would stare at you, and it kinda feels funny galloping with your backpack swinging side to side. It feels as if they’re curious to find out if you’ll catch the train or not. You could actually hear them clapping in your head when you’re almost there.
Good thing my friends and I started to jog weekly so it wasn’t much of a burden, but it was intense enough to have me catching for breath when I entered the train. I honestly missed the feeling though. It’s been a while since I ran hard to catch a train.
It was hot and humid as fvck inside. I’m guessing that trains in the afternoon can’t beat the heat to cool it down. Morning trains are more fresher. After few stations, I was able to sit down and you’re really lucky when you get to sit down in a crowded train. I started reading a book borrowed from an officemate. It’s The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger. I’ve been reading it for months now, won’t say I don’t have time for it because that’s just how slow I read books. Didn’t have plans for the day, thought my friends were willing to hang-out but turned out not (they probably had their own plans), so I guessed I’d just have a brodate with Holden Caulfield, the book’s main character. The guy is a pain in the ass, but really cool, full of teenage angst. He’s around my age and shares common things and experiences with me but I also think we’re on the extreme opposite sometimes. The book is written in a style that is closely how I write, but I’m not a huge fan of my works.
Holden is funny, the way he sees things. I was sort of smiling while reading when the man standing in front of me suddenly speaks in the middle of the train, it actually scared the hell out of me. You would thought he’s up to something harmful or crazy. He looks fairly decent with his casual shirt and jeans though, neither small nor tall, regular frame, wears a worn-out olive backpack which one might think he works on a construction. He started this religious public preaching speech. His voice was calm with conviction, loud and piercing enough to not pay attention. I got relaxed after realizing it was just the usual beg for alms.
Won’t put down the actual preach he made, but he had this line that I’m pretty sure touched many hearts. I don’t know, nothing really special about it that maybe it’s just me, I also felt it was distinctively more quite when he said the line, as if to give emphasis like in a movie. He mentioned how hard life is, the struggles that we are all going through, that it’s all part of it, that we should never lose hope, that there’s someone out there that we could always trust. Then he mentioned the different members of society, from students, parents, people with disabilities, people with sickness, old ones, young ones. No bible verses and all. His speech lasted from a station to the next. He dropped by to Vito Cruz station with a “have a good day to all.”
There was a moment of silence after he left.
Then it got back to normal. Tbh, he’s the one inspired me to write about this day. It just felt good to hear something as sincere as that, not asking for returns. It seemed that he just felt like doing it. Braving himself to speak in public in hopes to make someone feel better. Not all people can do that, and that makes it so amusing. I salute you, man.
I got back to reading until my school’s station. I just went to pick up my letters that I asked to be signed by our college’s chairperson, then the dean. Unfortunately, he’s out of town. Sucks, because I’ll be needing the letters tomorrow.
Then I spent the rest of my time in a mall. I wanted to watch a movie even all by myself, but changed my mind because I got reminded that I should be saving dough. I committed that I should spend only within my student allowance which is hundred and fifty pesos. That’s all. I’ve already put my dough in a bank, 40% from my summer job and 60% from luck which my friends and I only know. My best half and I are planning to make it grow.
On my way home, I bought sundae with extra pump, and another one again at the bus station. Just so you know, I document my everyday expenses everynight before going to sleep, I even keep the receipts as if it will be reimbursed or something. My bud thinks I’m crazy.
That’s all. Good night!
Art inspired from The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger by yours truly.