Confused-Shoes

Someone told me that maybe happiness is a curse- something you’re bound to pursue but never possess. And I’m tired of chasing something that’s not bound to be mine.

I’ve never been what you would call an easy and happy go lucky person. Never too happy, never too sad. Steady, although sometimes prone to making statements. But I could be uncannily tolerant. Tolerant to the point of being too condoning.

I’ve nothing against happiness. I just don’t think happiness is laughter, nor is happiness that fleeting feeling of bliss. Or maybe I don’t understand what happiness is, at all.

How people die in hot pursuit of it without succeeding totally confuses me. Perhaps it takes many forms. And talk to a relativist happiness could mean nothing or anything at all.

Take for example, falling in love. Or getting rich. Or finding contentment. Or spending quality time with someone dear. Or watching a movie or having lunch with friends. Or getting a compliment, plus cash, from your parents. Or getting a good grade. Or hearing a beggar give you the sincerest thanks. Ah, many things.

What is there to happiness that I couldn’t figure it out lately? What does it have to do with frustration? What does it have to do with being?

They said that most problems come from material inequalities. The lack and want of something. But the lack of happiness can be more terrifying, especially to a mind who has not known the extremes of emotions.

I played a really old and sad song over and over. It was a silly old love song that most people would hate, some people would like. But it was perfect for the moment. I was slowly being terrified at the idea of being a holy loner. But there is no recourse. The past few days have been full of adventures big and small. Whether I find happiness in all these voyages or mere transitory feelings of relief I don’t know. But perhaps vague is the new vogue.

Why this happiness is so elusive, I can’t tell. Why it seems more real when it is contingent and validated by another, I don’t know. Why I can’t convince myself that happiness is just out there in everything, I can’t say. But for everything that has happened one thing is for sure. I am not happy.

I look at the sunset. It casts a certain orange glow that signals the arrival of the night. I pretend that I could appreciate it, but I can’t. Somehow the feeling of comfort escapes me. I have not yet trained my eyes to see properly. Perhaps, I have not yet understood what it means to be happy.

I tell myself, though, that despite this lonely sense of loneliness that has descended upon me, things might get better. But I’m fooling myself. It can only get worse. I stare at the now darkening sky.

The sun is up. The sky is blue. It’s beautiful. And so are you.

-         The Beatles, Dear Prudence (1967)

Your absence is like the sky, spread over everything.

                                                               - C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Breakfast, Kikiam. Lunch, Hotdog Sandwich. Dinner, Squidballs. Cigarettes the ever present companion. My dear friends, law school is now officially in session.

The 4^th floor is like plateau where forlorn climbers set up their final camp before setting out to conquer the terrible peak. And you can’t bring up food there. You’re on your own. It’s cold. Not really dark, but it could get lonely. Why I choose to stay here I don’t know.

Must be for the nice view of the trees of far away. And how close I can get to the sky once it rains.

My position is tragic, just like yours. We seek to be legends and the latin terms of Molo are magic spells. Te is always Te, Rowie is always Rowie. Hilbay is everyday a different story. Pamfilo is history.

Santos teaches legal bibliography.

                     

_____________

“I’m doing this for the country. But maybe along the way I could have a yacht.”

I smiled. It was almost 8 pm and their class had just ended. No more familiar faces. Only a friend from another block.

“I’m doing this for no revolution, no loved one, no godfather, no deity, no muse.” I told her, in reply. We continued to smoke the cigarette. Her earrings reminded me of someone else.

“I’m old enough to know better.” She said. We were counting the evening people on the way to their cars. I was also counting the seconds as they pass. Every second that passes brings me closer to the end of everything.

“I’ve had issues recently.” “We all do.” “Mine is not about law, but it’s about school.” “Funny. Me too. Haha.” “Funny.” *cigarette smoke from my mouth* “I hope it doesn’t kill us in the long run.” *this time she puffs* “It won’t.” It would make us stronger, Nietzsche said. That which does not kill us.

We said goodbye. Till tomorrow.

_____________

Christ you know it ain’t easy. You know how hard it can be. The way things are going, they’re gonna crucify me.

That was John Lennon singing in my head. Did he mean law school?

Saturday. I came home at around 10 last night. Slept. Woke up at 8. Was in school by 9. All the other hours unmentioned were spent either studying or smoking or contemplating my life. The last one has taken most of my time so far.

The 12 peso latte in the Nescafe vendo is better than the best Oreo Froccino.

Things change a lot. Wrong things suddenly become right. Like love, which has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight. Or trust. Frustration. Satisfaction. They all come and go. And worse, I have no control over the feelings that hover around. I could not in my limited abilities the power to summon all the happy thoughts and ask them to stay.

Happy thoughts. I have a friend named Happy.

I guess I’m not manic depressive, only sober dull. Routines delight me. Silence brings an enormous sense of well - being. The dead books, the silent trees, the gentle clouds, humming airconditioners, uncomplaining tables and chairs. I watch the people passing by. I look at the eyes of my friends. I stare at the moon.

I head for home.

Traffic was like hell, but that’s what most people will say. But the steady jam, red lights, rain, it seemed to me the perfect setting to fall asleep. The sounds present the obvious.

I needed something to believe in. A proof that something true was there. That it was not a dream. It could have been a dream, but I wanted to convince myself I was not just dreaming. I am still thankful if it was just a dream, though.

My shell is as hard as my heart.

I think I am meant for lawschool.

I love the solitude of hours of study.