-=the daily grind=-

I love the smell of books. Nevermind if they’re old or new, dog-eared and dilapidated or hardly touched, to me all books are special. My deep love for reading has been with me since forever. Why do I love them so much? It’s because I was born with questions and books give me answers. Isn’t it fascinating too that the lessons they impart change over time? Well, at least the better books do. Take The Little Prince for one. It meant to me differently at 7 compared to when I was 13 or 21. Or how Lord of the Flies was scary at 10, and later on turned into the vilest version of truth at 19. That Nancy Drew was just plain nosy (and that George and Bess probably have a lesbian affair) and Encyclopedia Brown, apart from being very, very lucky, probably had a mild case of autism.

Also, books are something you work for, something you aim to understand. Not like movies or music, books demand to be earned. If you don’t get the point now then try again in a few years time, when you’ve laughed the requisite cackles and cried the requisite tears until you become the person deserving of the book’s message. Have your heart broken a little, overcome the passing of somebody very important in your life, finish school, be eaten by the dogs of the world, then maybe, just maybe, the lesson found in the (crisp or yellowing) pages (depending on how long you’ve had the book) is at last ripe for your picking.

Books and reading offer me solace from a world that has gotten used to instant gratification and pathological indecision. It takes time to finish a chapter. And the story has progression, from the intro, to the mounting tension, to the climax, the deneoument, and then the resolution. Sometimes I mark the book after finishing a few pages, and months later come back to it. The story is still there, still waiting for my appreciation and opinion. How very enriching.

"Do not judge a book by it’s cover." Literally and metphorically it is true. Opening a book is like opening a gate to an alternate universe for me. And each person I meet is a book. The good ones always teach me something, and the worthwhile ones demand hard work. People like books are earned. Deserved. Luckily my love for reading has taught me to ride the ebb and flow of every adventure that is every person I meet. I’m not perfect in reading persons though. But then neither am I at reading books. Perhaps there is no perfect techinique. The point is to learn. Not every book ends the way you hope it would. Not every person allows you in his life. Some people are novels, staying with you from start to finish, while others short stories, their presence brightens and then dims in one fleeting instant. But all of them, books and people, if they have found a way into your life, can ultimately shape you towards the resolution of your personal story. Let them.

Happy New Year Everyone!!!

Say goodbye to 2005, that year is now history. *I should be telling myself this since forgetfulness has never been one of my traits. I am an elephant.*

Adios to all the stress, the mega-nega thinking, the "what-if’s" and "how comes". It’s about time we all gave ourselves a fresh start.

I remember loving the start of a new school year — new notebooks, pad paper, folders, text books, pencils and pens. If I’m feeling like a girl scout I throw in 2 highlighters, maybe 5 gel pens, a glue stick and a fancy eraser. I shop around National with "The Final Countdown" playing in my head. It’s the start of the school year! New classmates! New friends! New teachers! New stuff to learn! I vow to be the king of the classroom and do the assignments everday. So I’m a nerd, so what? (I think that’s why I adore nerds — deep down I am one myself; this fact slightly reflected in my choice of boys, eyeglasses are mandatory but that’s another story). I miss that feeling, the feeling of newness and promise, of excitement and being game for whatever may come my way. And my new year’s resolution (here we go) is to relive that newness everyday and rediscover that newness in everything I do this year.

A few quotes to leave you with as we start the new year:

"What is truly yours you shall soon recover." — Cynthia Alexander

"Love is a commitment of the heart that will stand the test of wavering emotions, intellectual rationalizing, circumstantial allure, hormonal infatuation, and even the wounds of your lover. Anything less in not true love." — Paolo Coelho

"Personally, I think if a woman hasn’t met the right man by the time she’s 24, she may be lucky." –Deborah Kerr

First off, sorry for the screwed up font in my past entries. I cannot format the damn things.

Second, thanks for the comments. They have given me much comfort.

Tomorrow is the start of school and I am still in denial. I’d like to think school starts next week (in UP’s case this might ring true…I highly doubt the profs will show up tomorrow BUT the sucky thing is I still have to study for when they do). This is much like my life where I have bouts of escapism and periods of suspended disbelief (read: disillusionment and warped sense of reality). My name is Marie Montecer and I am an escapist. I have always wondered when life will start. You know how it is when you say "when I grow up I’ll be…I want…"? Well, I still say that and it is hard for me to swallow that I am finally in the point of being grown up, that NOW’s the time to realize those dreams.

There is a death that comes with knowledge. In the book of Ecclesiastes (yes, I do read the Bible), there is a passage that says, and I’m paraphrasing, with much wisdom comes much sorrow. Truly, happiness is for the ignorant. It is very difficult now to see the world and people as all shiny, good and true. Oftentimes I catch myself thinking the worst of every situation and of every other person I meet. Nobody is perfect. We all have skeletons in our closet, it’s just a matter of when the whole world finds out. It’ll never turn out as I hoped because let’s face it, I am just another face in the crowd so why should the universe make exceptions for me? The word does not owe me any favors. Yes, I am Marie Montecer and I am a fatalist.

It has come to a point that the mere getting up in the morning is courage. It takes guts to come to class and sit through a lecture; it takes chuztpah to come to school and face the music, knowing full well that it’s too late to turn things around and that you have already been graded even before you’ve opened you mouth to recite. And all of it…well, almost all of it, is based on impression, which to me is just a euphemism for bias(es). Everyday I am drowned by that little voice inside my head whispering "You can’t do it", by the system, by people who do not deserve an ounce of my respect, by second-handers, by know-it-alls, by know-nothings, by the sheep, by the fighters, and the list goes on and on and on and on.

Life is a dare, and you have to WANT what you want. Nothing about it can be half-baked because I can’t have half a life or a life half lived. In Philo our teacher once said that to love it to gamble; ang pag-ibig ay pagtataya. Well, to live is to gamble and all the ante we have is ourselves. As my roomy Sandy once told me, "kampihan mo ang sarili mo kasi kung hindi, ano pang meron ka?" It is all in the mind. Think Lambert, the sheepish lion. As the Fuzzy said, "We’re lions Smelly. We just forget."