  The Cat is out of the Bag: I never believed that I would drop out of school. I guess to those people who know me and follow my blog they know the circumstances around it, they also know my character as a person and what made things conspire to put me in this position to fail. The most painful thing I ever had to bear is to see my mother watch me fail. Every bit of hope was lost from her from finding out from me what happened. Another painful thing was that my lola had no faith in me and told my Tita’s in the states about it. OUCH!!!
Talk about knowing where it runs in the family!!! My mom told me she was planning a party when I graduate… She told Tita Bebet… OUCH!!! Again. I am in shattered pieces when I am writing this. Coherence is something I have at my disposal right now but I better put everything down now. “I AM NOT LAZY!!
!” Is what I screamed/ I believe it and I know it… its just my mom doesn’t believe me. I guess no one will believe me but my friends and brothers. That’s funny. Cause why do my parents have to be my friends for them to believe me. They have always been just my “parents”. I guess with that kind of relationship it will certainly fail.
I could never be truly honest with them that’s for sure… I’ve change so much that they don’t know who I am. How can they stand an agnostic son who screwed around and has such wide and liberal views. Its not a matter of being something of a social stigma but being someone my parents cannot accept. Always with the distance and always with the independence?! SHOULD I HAVE ASKED THEM FOR A BRAND NEW COMPUTER IN THE VERY BEGINNING? MEL!?
Do you think that is something I would ask or the way were raised. As my brother can enlighten anybody it is not something within us to ask for an extravagance like a computer… its just not the way I knew how to do things. Tim told me not to regret what happened and dwell on the mistakes he was there to bear witness to. BUT DAMN did those mistakes hurt like hell and it gave me the last impression of the country that sired me… The actions I was taking were the best I could make at the time… GIVEN WHAT I KNEW!!! Was I ignorant or could I have avoided it. BUYERS BEWARE?!?
Heck we were buying from Virra Mall as far as I remember. Where else would I go when computers came to mind…. Future OK what was once here was two pages of “what ifs and if onlys”. I deleted them simply cause they serve no purpose but to push me farther into depression. My mom accepting my failure has allowed me to work without concern anymore. OF course I CANT WORK NOW GIVEN MY STATE OF MIND.
But planning my action is still my priorites… I have no time to mourn my own FAILURE. I must struggle to push my mind forward toward the task at hand. The Task at Hand The Art is good… but I could do better. Not that I have time to practice… I repeat saying that it has been 6 years since I was doing comics. Going back into them now with an artist’s perspective instead of fan’s has helped greatly. Thanks to Gino also for constructive criticism and perspective in the endeavor since I don’t know shit and his place is a better workstation for doing creative thinking than mine.
(There are no fruits at home and comfort feeding is a bad habit to develop especially in the states where there are more snacks. ) I was confused and redid the artwork poorly and Gino’s opinion and Cathy’s too, I might add, helped me get a outside opinion of my work. Which gets confusing with all the extra symbols, layouts, and progress in making the characters get to where they are going. Their criticism is just enough for me to get through and still have enough confidence to do better. Tomorrow There is soccer and drawing tomorrow even if it is a Saturday. I getting stuff done and slowly getting into a real groove.
I just hope I survive my dad’s… but my dads a guy he has his way of dealing with what happened. I just hope not the way he used to when we were kids. Noticing Things I have to admit. When Gino told me the time his dad called him dumb when he couldn’t do these certain tasks as a kid… I remembered how my own dad was angry at me when I couldn’t do some things right*. I guess as hindsight, we can be more forgiving and more encouraging as fathers. Having this discussion with my mom was so unreal… cause I was so scared that she would know so badly that when it was happening I talked and argued I could not feel a single emotion and had to ACT the way I should feel.
It just hit me leaving cause the last time I argued was when I moved to CSB and I told her I won’t quit. I GAVE HER MY WORD I WONT QUIT AND THIS HAPPENS. IT FEELS LIKE A QUIT, but I stopping myself so hard not to be dragged down. Am I lying to myself that I worked hard… I look back and my grades spoke for themselves a 2.8 GPA in my whole stay… my reputation among my teachers said the same too… infact I put in 300 hours of recorded OJT hours in my last term while I did 2 other subjects and 100 other yet to be filed OJT hours. One of these subjects was my thesis… SHIT I FUCKING WORK HARD… everybody who defended their OJT HOURS ONLY SHOWED 120 at the most!!! I WAS THE FUCKING MOST!!!
I WORKED MY BUT OFF!!! And NO ONE BELIVES ME WHEN I SAY I DID MY BEST!!! I have proof that In character I worked the hardest… too bad my mom doesn’t know that I literally redo my projects most of the time because I’m my worst critic. The most I ever redid was to do something 3 times per plate… what was in color theory since I was alien to colors. I got a 95% not bad for a guy who knew nothing about colors in the begin with. At least I end with having enough proof for myself that I wasn’t lying and that making the mistake in trusting my own countryman was the worst thing I could do.
MAN I’m so used to Patrick being around… he is usually the first person to tell me if I’m being had. I guess after this experience this would be my last lesson before I go to the state and end up in a problem in the proportion of dollars not pesos. * I remember when I was in gradeschool my dad was so angry that I could not write number for either left to right or right to left… I can’t remember. I remember shouting allot from mom and dad… and my dad gripping down on my hand as me forced my had to write the way he wanted… I remember crying and being confused- I didn’t understand why he was so angry at me and my mother shouting that it works and it should not matter. My dad walked away soo pissed and I remember crying and doing the home work till I was so sleepy I fell asleep crying on this old marble table back in san juan. Remembering that I was just like Dale (brat of a cousin) I guess that’s why dale acts the way he does.
I can’t help but look back in time at the way he acts. 
