delusional [?]

The not-so-official blog of Donya Quixote. Feedback is very much welcome and appreciated.

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sounds of the summer

"I don't need the sunshine
Don't need the good times,
Don't need anything anyone's giving,
And I don't mind your lies so keep on talking." - Don't Need the Sunshine, Catatonia


donya quixote

  • Proud to be Pinay.
  • Born once upon a time in the late January 1988.
  • Hails from the highlands; Baguio City.
  • She dorms.
  • Getting hazed trained for life at the School of Economics at the University of the Philippines, Diliman.
  • Member of the UP Campus Crusade for Christ and UP Economics Society.
  • Just a little bit crazy.
  • Doesn't want to kiss frogs; faithful to her Dulcine[o]. [NBSB PRIDE!]
  • Extremely socially inept - uncomfortable with the idea of meeting new people. Would rather curl up with a nice book than go out clubbing.
  • Loyal to the friends she already has. Cause they're great. [Most of the time. Hehe.] ;)
  • Usually highly opinionated when it comes to music/film/other media, but her lack of social awareness is disgusting.
  • A fool for Jesus Christ.
  • Here's her multiply, friendster, and email. [Has myspace, but it's as good as dead. Still contemplating on whether or not she should resurrect it.]


reader log

the past

Symphony in the Key of C-minor
Tikim ng Kalayaan
The Aftertaste v1.0

June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007

Credits

Art: DQ + some brushes from... all over the place.
Image Hosting: Imageshack & Imagecave
Code: DQ
Monday, August 28, 2006
[10:44 PM] | Permalink / /

I was going to rant about a little something one of our "well-behaved" politicians said, but you know what? Forget about that.


I have a story to tell you. Medyo mahaba ito, but I ask all of you to read it, please.

Today was another just like any other day. I woke up a little later than I wanted [and missed breakfast in the process], ended up waiting in line for the showers for thirty minutes, got to class late, fell asleep during my Econ lecture, etc. Went to my org's tambayan to get info on a press release article I have to write. Afterwards I went to the dorm and had my lunch, played a little Zuma, then at 2:50PM, I left to go to class.

The woman at the front desk ran after me and asked what my name was. She then handed me an envelope. My mom had told me that I had received a letter from England, and I asked her to mail it to me.

So there I was, walking to the Econ building. I tore one side of the envelope and a fished out a single sheet of paper. It was a little disappointing - Jessie usually writes at least two pages worth of updates. I checked the letter. It wasn't her handwriting.


International Center:

It was signed by her sister Nadia.

So, okay, that's weird, why the heck is Nadia writing to me?

I started reading.

Somewhere along the second sentence, I stopped walking.









That was when I realized that the piece of paper I was holding in my hands was telling me that the last best friend I ever had was dead.








I knew that she was sick. I knew that she wasn't eating. I knew that she was having hallucinations. But I was confident that she'd get better. The doctors would give her medications. She would get better, I thought. And when I was older and I got enough money, I could visit her and we'd go back to Shrivenham and it'd be just like the old days. She wasn't supposed to die.

At first I had to remind myself to breathe.

Then I found myself saying, "No way. No way." over and over again.

I had to be dreaming, right? Things like this don't happen in real life. But the letter was still in my hands.

And I turned around to go back to the dorm.


Ilang-ilang:

I couldn't go inside. I just wanted to walk.

I decided that I wasn't going to class. I needed to digest all of this.


Shopping Center:

Somewhere in front of the Shopping Center, I thought, heck, I should go to class. Hindi naman ako iiyak.
Jessie was my best friend for the three years I was in England. We were two really awkward kids - she had really thick eyeglasses and was just as socially inept as I was. I had frizzy hair and... was just very strange.
After a few more meters, my eyes started watering.


Freshie Walk:

Ang hirap talagang maglakad na umiiyak tapos maraming kumakaway sa iyo. [Tip: do not make eye contact. Just say hi when they're not close enough to see the details of your face, then look away.]
Jessie was really timid, but she could dance. At our school talent show she danced alone to "When the Going Gets Tough" by Boyzone. I knew that she took ballet - tap - jazz lessons, but I didn't know that she could dance like that. She danced alone. After she was finished the auditorium was silent, and then everyone suddenly cheered. She only won the second prize, but I'll never forget the way she looked.
I turn around when I reach the end of Freshie Walk. I couldn't go to class.


Somewhere in front of Molave:

Horror of horrors - I run into someone I know. I suck up all the tears, but it's obvious that there's something wrong. I couldn't say what my problem was, but I wanted to share it. So I handed over the letter, which was still in my hand. Then the tears started falling freely.
She was the first person I was friends with who wore contact lenses. We were only twelve when she started wearing them, and I liked watching her take them on and off. She also started wearing makeup when we were twelve. I didn't notice it until one night when we slept over a friend's house. She was washing her face and I saw some green stuff on her fingers and I was all, "You wear makeup?" She was like, "Duh, yeah."

I guess I was scared that she would grow up and leave me behind. The funny thing was, I was the one who ended up leaving her all alone while I talked with some of my other friends. She never complained.

Back in Ilang-ilang:

I finally finish reading the rest of the letter. She still kept a picture of us in her room.

I tried as hard as I could to gather all the memories I had of her - from the first time we really talked (when everyone else was at an out-of-town field trip and we were stuck at school), the time I lost her Tamagochi (Our French teacher found it and it started beeping during our class. She asked us who knew how to make it shut up. I claimed it after class. Jessie didn't say anything.), watching her eat that disgusting pizza I cooked for DT class, swallowing water together at the wave machine at Oasis, eating that huge dark chocolate egg she bought me for Easter in one day (as a result of that incident, the sight of dark chocolate now makes me want to hurl), going to her riding lesson together, playing skittles in a smokey bar (we were, not surprisingly, the only kids there), running through a field of chamomile with her dog...

Whenever I smell chamomile I remember that afternoon.

[Pwet, naiiyak na ako ulit.]

Inhale.

The really sad thing about it is, I never really told her how much she meant to me. Sure, she knew she was my best friend, and I knew that I was hers. She wrote a German paper on our friendship, about how we were so different (she had a Steps album - need I say more?), but in spite of that, we never fought, and we were best friends. I never showed her anything that told her how much she meant to me.

I should have written more letters. I didn't even send her anything last year. I was too caught up with my freshman year, and my new friends, that I didn't even send her a birthday card. Not even a Christmas card.

I should have sent her that photo I kept promising to send her. The last photo she had of me was on our last day of school, on the bus on the way home. I had ink marks all over my face and my hair was at its frizziest - not my favorite image of myself.

She was the last best friend I ever had. I guess I held up everyone against her, and nobody was ever as good / as nice / as fun as she was. That's part of the reason why it was so hard for me to adjust to my new school when we moved back here - I had this horrible attitude because I didn't like my new schoolmates. They were basically all annoying compared to her. She was waaaay up there and everyone else just couldn't match up.

I don't think I ever hugged her. Nobody hugged each other back then, but that's really not the point. In the three years that we knew each other, I never reached out and hugged her.

So... No regrets? Hah.

[This would be a really good time for me to launch into a series of cuss words. But you insert them here instead. Be creative.]

I've stopped crying now.

Well, almost.

Writing this is just like pouring salt on a fresh wound, you know? But I just want to share this with you.

Because life is just so short. How many times will this have to be repeated for us to digest it?

It took a death of a friend for me to get it.

We are fragile. People you counted on being there forever can very well disappear in a blink of an eye.

Do me a favor and tell your friends how appreciated they are. Hug the ones you've never hugged before. Ask them about their day and listen. Value every moment. Take pictures. Record events on a journal. Just let them know how they are loved.

Please, don't wait until it's too late.