In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed-
But a waking dream of life and light
Ah! what is not a dream by day
To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
Turned back upon the past?

That holy dream - that holy dream,
While all the world were chiding,
Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
A lonely spirit guiding.

What though that light, thro' storm and night,
So trembled from afar -
What could there be more purely bright
In Truth's day-star?

~Edgar Allan Poe, A Dream

I haven't had the mind to write anything since I've arrived in Butuan. It's the unusual affliction I contract whenever I am home - the desire to do and think about nothing. At least, for the time being. I needed the rest. However, it is Sunday, I have stopped by this poorly-ventilated internet café from church in the hopes of stirring my somewhat sluggish mind into writing something because - well, I've had enough television for four days. I'm not stressed nor worried about anything. It's as if all my diffculties have vanished, life had suddenly calmed down after a tempestous period of wearisome review classes, of distressing Board examinations, of desolate boarding house life, and of incessant thoughts about going home. That is all over with now, and I have come home, and I am happy, and I seem to have lost the will to write because simply - there is nothing to write about at the present.

---

I have not the desire to retrospect on what transpired during the days of the examinations (June 11th and 12th), except that it was extremely tedious, considering the fact that my assigned room was in the 8th floor of a damnable building without a lift. But it was, I admit, a good way to shake off the drowsiness one feels after each set of a hundred questions. That proceeded on for two days. On the second and final day, after having done with the last set, the trip from the examination center back to the boarding house was most vexing. It took the jeepney at least an hour and a half, in sweltering afternoon sun and through thick of the worst traffic in Cebu, to reach our destination. It was a tiresome day, as I've said, and I was exhausted from physical and mental exertion when I staggered into my room and unto my bed. But the thought of finally going home gave me an unusual surge of energy that kept the desire to sleep at bay and pushed me to finish packing up my things. After dinner, I collapsed on my bed and didn't wake up until ten in the morning the next day.

---

I wasn't concerned about travelling alone, but it was rather comforting that my friend, who was reviewing for the CGFNS exams, decided to accompany me after realizing the futility of attending review classes without a single instructor. Sitting on top of a bunk bed, I hid my excitement in trying to read a book that I had purchased with the last of my money which was then reduced to mere twenty clinking coins. As the boat convulsed to life and began the voyage, I looked back at Cebu's lights disappearing into the darkness of the night with a sense of, more than anything else, relief. I hid my book away and marveled at the bright yellow sphere low in the evening horizon, partially hidden by sinister dark clouds, casting its reflection on the waves. My mind lingered on the past, about how all this started, and how I struggled through it and, staring at the glorious full moon, what a perfect sight to end it all with.

I remember, although vaguely now, that it was probably a few days after the examination has taken place for I was facing my computer at home, strangely looking for something, browsing through pages and pages on the internet. It was the results, apparently, and I was looking for my name. I heard voices behind me, voices of expectation. My heart was palpatating hard against my chest in anticipation. The last page loaded, and my name wasn't there. I have failed.

I woke up sweating, the beating of my heart was defeaning, my limbs were numb, tingling, that I fear I have lost the ability to move them, and I felt the a profound sense of... dread. It had taken, as a matter of fact, a few moments to convince myself that it was just a dream, that the examination won't take place until three days, and that I was still lying on a rickety bed inside a hellish room in Cebu.

It is not the first time I entertained the thoughts of failing the exam, but it amazed me how a dream about it could elicit such reaction.

Although I find it hard to believe that dreams, as most would believe, like a lame prophecy, have any relationship to future occurences, I couldn't help but ask myself: Could it be a sign of the inevitable fate that awaits me?

Or perhaps just the subconsciousness, as I have always believed dreams to be, spewing forth the buried contents of the mind, my inner fears. Could it be that, behind my supposed impassiveness and seemingly absolute confidence, I do give a shit after all? That I dread of failure most of all? Of course, who wouldn't?

Sigh.

A vague feeling of apprehension now grips me, alleviated only by the comforting thought that, in five days, this will all be over. Or will it? Somehow I feel that these are the last moments I will feel calmness and solitude - in a very long while.

What necessitates a new life?

I ask - for it is what I ardently desire, most of all, but has yet to attain. I came here, in this great city, in prospect of one, and in the beginning was convinced that this is where I want to seek employment and spend few years of my future merely because I have grown tired of my old town and my old life. And I didn't care of the possibility or the inevitability of feeling despondent at times, or of being homesick, or of feeling isolated, for I will have then my freedom, and in that a sense of new life. But, like everything else, wherever I go, whatever I do, I grow tired of it all rather easily.

Or is it merely the presence of inactivity of which I'm currently shackled and chained to?

Or is it I'm inanely prone to discontent?

Yet, my soul seeks change. But change, I think, is something someone of my social order couldn't afford. I had my hair trimmed quite recently, for thirty pesos, because I want to see someone else who looks different staring at me from the mirror, thus also a sense of change. But that's all I can afford. I still wear the same plain white t-shirts, I still own only two pairs of shorts, and an old battered cellphone, and two pairs of worn-out jeans, the same tired eyes stare back at me, and I still look as bland as an unpainted concrete wall. I am like a snake who wishes to shed his skin but cannot.

So I'm stranded with what I always have been.

But is it new clothes, new looks, new things, or new activities that comprises new life? New loves, new passions, new friends, or new surroundings?

Or is it just just being... content?

But what is contentment?

It has been so long a time, my friend, my love.
So long since I've gazed upon your sweet smile,
Your voice haunts me throughout the passing millennia,
But is never forgotten.
How can I?
Your enchanting memory is all I have left;
The sole source of my hope, my joy;
Yet, also, of my remorse and immense sorrow.
But it does not matter now, you are here-
You hold my hand, I feel your warmth,
You whisper my name in your melodious tones,
And you free my heart gripped with sadness;
Forgive me if I should shed a tear,
For I have missed you so.
Alas! the coming morning announces its wretched arrival!
The sun would bathe my eyes with its harsh radiance,
And blind me, and break me from this sweet spell.
Hold me, my love, and save me from my waking;
Redeem me from the bitterness of reality!
I intreat you, with all of my being-

Please, stay.

I have endeavored to spend the remaining days in solemn study, no matter how fruitless it may prove. It is better to be bent on nursing books now than rot my bottom and be baked in the humidity inside that infernal room of ours over some unrelated literature. Besides, it should alleviate my constant thoughts about home and the increasing eagerness about the coming day of my departure.

Five days remain and I feel there is yet so much to be learned. I doubt, however, if any further study is beneficial. It is rather too late. I'm more inclined to rely on my cumulative knowledge now. I have expected to feel slightly apprehensive on the last weeks prior to the examination, but I'm a bit surprised that I'm still somewhat... impassive. I admit though that I have little fear of failing.

Could this be my undoing?

Could it be the antecedent of my forthcoming disappointment?

I have come to realize, or rationalize, that perhaps the real source of my 'unconcern' regarding the examinations is that I just don't give a shit anymore whether I pass or fail, hopeless and dispirited perhaps that I have surrendered completely what has motivated me in the first days of the review, a 'dream' to be on the top ten (gratitude towards my instructor at UC who has propagated such a ridiculous idea in my head). I can laugh at it now. How ambitious I was to even think that!

I have underestimated the difficulty of studying alone, having to contend with boredom and isolation for three months. Could it be that which ultimately wore down my enthusiasm? It has become increasingly difficult to maintain focus and concentration on my studies lately, I drag my brain like a heavy stone across every page, and the tedious process tires me easily. A friend of mine who is studying for the CGFNS also complains from the same, he has only been here for a month.

Listening to music from an old walkman seems to help, sometimes.

I'm uncertain, but I think a part of me wants to fail; so I could have a second chance, to bring my dream back, to regain a lost passion, to start all over again (how I like the phrase). Although, I realize too, that this is selfish, unfair, most of all, to my parents who have financially shouldered my finances since March. How can I suffer them to go through the indignation that their son has failed and that all their efforts were in vain? Can I even bear another 6 months of uncertainty, anticipation, and hellish review? No, failure is unthinkable.

Thoughts and feelings may conflict - but I know what must be done.

I awoke from my sleep, the sun had already set, body glistening with freeflowing sweat, drenching the sheets. Stillness seem to envelop the room, smothering everything. Has the world suddenly died? The fan, the only hope of alleviating the excessive heat, has ceased to function; it has detached itself from the loose socket for some reason.

I sat up, cursed a little, and wiping the beads of perspiration from my forehead, jumped down from my bed to fix the problem.

A noise from a speakerphone not far away, the roar of engine of a passing vehicle, a faint sound of guitar strums from downstairs, the whirring of the resuscitated electric fan, my own respirations breathing in the sultry humidity, the deafening silence screams -

As profound sadness slowly drowns me.

I received a mail containing a simcard from Smart this morning; free, as the letter which came along with it had said (agressive strategies to steal subscribers from Globe, perhaps). Shame, I could do with a new cellphone. A new sim for an old humble Nokia 3210, whose battery life is reduced to 12 hours fully-recharged, whose screen cover fell off, letting beads of moisture to stick to its screen everytime I place it in my pocket, and whose posterior cover seem eager to depart from the rest of its body and expose its innards. Yes, I desperately need to replace it. But that will have to wait, I guess, until I'm employed (next year hopefully).

Well (shrugs), at least that battered gadget still functions properly, and it also goes with my crumpled look anyway.

I don't closely monitor the new models of mobile phones today, but everytime I pass the rows of tech shops each day on my way to the review center, I've noticed that they seem to have affixed every known appliance to the cellphone excepting the refrigerator; hybrids, part camera, part palmtop, part radio, part mp3 player, part television, part cinema, part credit card, part hacking tool, part chick-magnet, among other things. One of my boardmates owns one of those fancy-tech ones, aside from sending texts and making calls, it doubles as a voyeur cam and a porno library.

I still prefer the old-reliable (and infinitely cheaper).

Has anyone ever notice that people who are so attached to their phones seem to have forgotten the pleasures, or the etiquette, of normal conversations? You're engaged in a conversation with a friend and you're in the middle of the sentence and the other's cellphone rings; he grabs it and holds it high between you so you can't see his face, you decide to continue while the other person keeps nodding and uttering blank 'uh-huhs' while he incessantly thumbs the keypad until you're so irritated by the rudeness that you can just grab the beer on the table and smash his head with it. And most of them aren't even aware of their audacious impoliteness. Sadly, it would seem that the tool of communication is in itself hindrance to effective communication.

That, and the dark side of mobile technology.

Or maybe it's just rationalization or reaction formation.

Sour grapes. Hehehe.

I had a chance to converse with classmates from UC this morning, who, despite their smiles and laughter, were apparently dreading the coming of the licensure examimations eight days from now. It was precipitated by the pre-board, which has a reputation of being notoriously difficult that even I had to scratch my head a few times during the painful exam-a-thon, and perhaps the unveiling of the soaring scores of other schools like Cebu University compared to our's, meagerly making the passing sixty percent, that threw the reality of our evident unreadiness squirming on our faces.

And while my nervy colleagues may be developing mild to moderate anxiety, I remain oddly unconcerned with the exam. My anxiety is rooted on the absence of anxiety. I have read that anxiety is related to self-esteem. Self-esteem relates to, in this instance, how the person's appraises his intellectual abilities; that when a person's self-esteem is low, he is prone to developing or will manifest anxiety which, if untreated, will progress to an anxiety disorder. Could it be that I unconsciously (or consciously) percieve my purported accumulated knowledge is enough to pass that damnable examination?

Or could it be just plain hopelessness, manifesting as indifference?

Anxiety, or rather, mild anxiety is not bad. It keeps one on edge, keeps his focus is keen and his senses sharpened; it may even motivate one to keep studying as if there's no tomorrow. I wish I were anxious, even just in the slightest. I need it to break me from this... shroud, this fog, that makes thinking and studying rather impossible, throwing me into a state of near-depression and hypersomnolence. I'm bored, worn out, fed up, dispirited, homesick.

I desire nothing more than to get this examination over with so I can finally go home to my own town, be comfortable in my own house, my own room, sleep in my own bed, fiddle with my own computer, and pursue other books and literature that are, in no manner, connected with nursing.

Ah, why are the days so slow?

It has been three months since the first day I have set foot on this island, the Queen City of the South as the Cebuanos would often boast, to review for the local board examination and have since admitted that I like Cebu, with its several big malls, and numerous CD shops, and comprehensive bookstores, and fancy-dressing chicks, and pristine shores, among other things, better than my little town of Butuan.

Or was it merely exaggerated by the sense of freedom and independence, which I have suffered to live without during what seems like an eternity of imprisonment in Butuan, that the three months promised?

Whatever it was, as the days crept past, the excitement of that first day of being entirely on my own slowly wore out and replaced, little by little, by the feeling of severe longing for that place I have come to hate and love. And while it is true that Butuan may be infinitely inferior to Cebu City (or any other cities, as a matter of fact, that have earned the title city) , however, I couldn't think of any place I would rather be right now.

10 days na lang... uwi na ako!