I did not take the sleeping pill but still i feel a little woozy. Staring ahead, going through his head and doodling in this chair is all the excitement this class could get. This room in this boring building has not enough doors to see outside -- people walking, interesting get-ups, cute faces. It has too high windows to count cars, passers-by or even sketch the trees outside.
His voice drones on in my head. Same lesson. Same words. No meaning. It's as if he's trying to brain wash us, with his thoughts of nationalism, the rich being the country's oppressors and all those things which really don't matter much to us. Instead of believing him, it makes me want to stick a finger down my throat and throw up. This class makes the fly on my desk more interesting to observe.
Glazed eyes go his way. It may not look empty but is filled up with things good than taking the sleeping pill.
Tired of all this talk makes my mind wander. Wander to the books I want to read, movies and shows to watch, even to the time when I'll meet and gab with my friends. Dreams are interrupted. The person in front of me wakes suddenly as her papers fall from her grasp, jolting her senses. The sleeping pill takes effect. It takes effect on her but not me. I have to control my senses.
It makes me contemplate. All I've heard in this class, I've heard before. It's nothing new, nothing learned. I wonder what he takes to make him the cure to insomnia nights.
Freedom is forty minutes away. I look longingly at the door, the key to my escape. The great insomnia cure even wears the same shirt on Mondays. Maybe he has a Monday shirt. And a Tuesday shirt. even a Saturday shirt. Zzzzz... an overdose of sleeping pills can kill. Could he kill us with all these things he tells us? Makes me want to drop dead before he does do us in. But I haven't had a taste of the pleasures of life yet. Do I call it foul play? with intent to kill? Please put stilts before my eyes.
I must swallow this sleeping pill. But not much. I want to be awake to take the other sleeping pill, my eyes wide open.
an unearthed composition of a very bored 19 year old Patricia, during her rizal class in UP circa 1998.
5 comments:
gosh. what a cool entry.
sarcastic ba yan kiko? *lol*
hmp. minsan naman hindi puro pintas gingawa ko no
ok fine. thank you. :)
miss ka na namin pagtawanan. :P
hahaha..patty naalala ko tuloy yung rizal class ko nung college... pinagawa kami ng prof ng reaction paper abt the religious thoughts of dr jose rizal.. e tamad ako at di interested.. so i wrote a 5 sentence reaction saying that i didnt read the book at all because i wasnt interested in JPR's religious thought... ang nakakatawa my prof gave me a 4.0 (highest grade yun) kasi it was the best reaction he read daw! asus!!!
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