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I had a test yesterday, for Discrete Mathematics. It was supposed to be last Wednesday, but the professor delayed it because he had a meeting that day, and we didn't have classes on Friday because of it. Instead, I had an ultrasound exam scheduled, and I had to wake up earlier to get to the clinic on time. I spent at least three hours there, for my bladder wasn't full enough. It's very uncomfortable, as you can imagine. Procrastinating the rest of the week, I only started studying on Friday, trickling down to the weekend— the whole duration of Sunday after church watching video classes until late at night.
When I woke up Monday morning & had to take the train, dozing in and out inside the car and on the wagon ride, I could only think about what you'd told me earlier, last month I think, about how when life hits, things out of the bound of necessity become unimportant. The test was good, for what I could tell. On the way back home I was reaffirming my will to sleep and rest when home, a dead-girl-walking, as Heathers would say. It wasn't meant to be. My afternoon was just about reading fanfiction and drawing, which it's still relaxing to me, though not so much for my brain. It did not help that I had drank a cup of coffee for breakfast, which refrained me from seamlessly falling asleep at 10 P.M.
Yesterday during Mass, Priest D talked about how we should behave today as if we were still inside the church until Sunday. There was the ceremony of the procession with the Sacrament to Its resting place, accompanied by the sharp sound of metal hitting wood—I’d never seen it before so it was very interesting. Last week, they called for young people to represent the Apostles & I had my feet washed and kissed. My brother was supposed to do it too, but he didn’t want to, so they had to find someone else at the spot. Maybe I should feel something about that, the difference in treatment between him and I from my mother in such similar circumstances, though I'm too tired for that now. When I exited the church (chaplaincy inside a hospital) I could see the twinkling red star that I think it’s Mars, even if I'm not sure.
Today, I watched The Passion of the Christ by Mel Gibson with Brother and Dad.
I got a headache and Benny is sleeping on top of my pink flip flops. He came back from the salon looking like an over fed rat, funny looking grooming.
I had a test on Monday, which I think I did quite well, even though I only studied for two days. My Sunday was just hours and hours of maths, which drove me crazy, and yesterday I slept through the whole afternoon after almost falling asleep on the train. To be honest, I'm still feeling tired, but at least my other exam has been moved to Monday, so I won't have to beat myself up too much. I was going to update this blog sooner, but not before I'd at least found my muse Ariadne's prompt acceptable - I find that two of my worst qualities in relation to my work are that I'm overly critical of myself & that I take too long to write. Recently I have had the urge to draw again, which I will do when I have the time, which is not now. The assignments are suffocating, but I won't have classes on Friday, Hallelujah. I will finally have the chance to wake up a bit later than usual, if Benny does not destroy my hopes as he has done every day since he started sleeping in my bedroom.
Things are slow here, in these arms of April. Sometimes, I feel like I'm living a life outside of myself, as if I'm undeserving of such tranquility. I don't recognize my body, or my brain who commands it—it's a weird sensation, and I almost give in to the urge to do something harsh to get out of the haze, but I won't. There's not much rain during the day, and the dawns are filled with puddles. My neck is always hurting—I need a new chair.
Today I have officially survived two decades. It sounds like a long time, but honestly I still feel like a baby. I don't think I've aged much mentally since I was fifteen or eighteen—the feeling of being a Dancing Queen never really goes away. Today the dates on the signs near the bus stops were more noticeable, the pixels rearranged to 03/04. I like to think I was born on a day made up of beautiful numbers. This morning Dad asked me if I felt any older and my answer was no, not really. I received the letters from IVy & MichaEl at the station & on the bench I hunched over my phone as if holding an injured bird—very carefuly & focused—while waiting for the train to arrive. My heart smiled widely. I didn't listen to music on the train today because I had a (Pre)-Calculus I test for which I felt under-prepared. I was anxious all morning—when I woke up the first thing on my mind was Oh, I have an exam today! & not Oh, it's my birthday today!. Camila remembered the date & wished me well, even telling my first class (programming) professor about it, despite my fear of this kind of social interaction, which uniquely draws attention to myself. I thought I would get a 6/10 on my PCI test, but to my surprise I got a 9.5/10! I was so afraid when I logged on to the college site tonight that I would be sad while going to sleep that I almost decided to just wait until tomorrow. I'm happy. I spoke to my mum & although things are still shaky, they are getting better; I also video called my brother for some time, who is my twin. He had a test today too, although he thinks he did badly. Dad and I got ice cream a couple of hours ago—lemon for me & chocolate + lemon for him (it was not a good combination) and got my brother some from when he comes home tomorrow—after a walk on the beach & chatting. I felt like my throat was clogged up for some time. There were two women in the shop talking in English & I tried to hear them although they were very quiet. After paying I started to get teareyed & for the first time the thought of crying in public did not make me feel ashamed. I don't feel twenty and I don't think I look twenty, but I am content—happy in a quiet way. I am loved. I'm glad to be alive.
After hearing IVy sing Auld Lang Syne I cried like a baby.
Holding back a cry feels the same way as holding a champagne bottle ready to explode, quivering between my hands, just like my lips. Still, I did not cry and tears never left the edge of my eyeline to run across my cheeks. There's no redness maring my face, for I put on makeup before leaving the apartment. I feel better by now, though my vision is still wet at the borders. The talk in the car was weighted, bare and naked. Dad does not know how to react to me crying, I could tell. He was not uncomfortable in a way that urged me to stop speaking, no, just by the situation itself. Or maybe I'm reading things wrong.
He was surprised when I said what I said; of what she had done, as if he wasn't there that day, or as if I didn't scream the same words at his face before. It made things better and worse, a knife you leave inside your guts in fear of bleeding out—by forgetting such a cruel situation, he stated how unimportant it all was on his eyes; by staying unchanged, it showcased how he could've changed if he hadn't let it go from his memory. My body feels like a wet rag.
—Today we reunited Pakkun the cockatiel with his family. He wasn’t living his best life here with us, spending most of the time inside a cage, alone. The place which we left him in has a great enclosure where he can fly and interact with other birds— an arara, two peacocks & a lot of cockatiels—sunbathe and stretch his wings. I hope he’s happy there—he was out of his cage pretty fast and kept screaming at the other cockatiels, who were my uncle’s, on the way up the hill. The place is a huge colonial farm turned into an adventure ecopark, old architecture remaining, with activities like fishing, zip line, kayaking and interaction with animals like cows and goats.
We stayed at my Uncle’s for an hour after, and then I drove back home—after Dad did a mock prayer. I like the newfound time we spent just the two of us in the car. We talk a lot, like when I asked him if he’d like the surname Worm. I have to study. Tomorrow I will go to the beach earlier, even if it rains.
I'm practically brain dead, but I have to study because I've been lying down since I got home.
Yesterday I remembered that time during a holiday when we and my Aunt Bel and her children were staying at the resort and decided to watch an action film that I can't remember the name of. It was after midnight and her daughter, who is only six, was asleep. She and I were on an air mattress and my brother and cousin were on the sofa. Then we saw a cockroach coming towards us and started screaming to find it, but it had gone under the sofa. The boys got the gal to say they'd seen it before, but didn't say anything because of the film. Of course they didn't! They weren't the ones on the floor. We spent at least thirty minutes looking for it and found another three cockroaches...The worst/best part was that the film had ten minutes left when we paused it. We finished it all on the couch, like sardines, too scared of the floor, with our feet up.
This week has been very busy. My college classes started on Monday and I was almost late for the lecture hall because Mom couldn't find a place to park near the train station. Yesterday we had to take Benny to the vet because he had an infected gland, but luckily he's improved and probably won't need surgery, although he was tricked into taking the medicine with his lunch. The last few days have been full of getting up early, going to the train/subway, van, class, van, train, car, lunch and sleeping through exhaustion - I haven't had time to do anything else. Today at least school finished early, at 10am, but Dad had to rush off and couldn't have lunch with me because Mom is in hospital. She had to repeat her operation from last month and decided to stay in hospital for another day, which annoyed my dad as he has to be home for work. Also, for the first time I decided to cut off meat during lent. It's been an experience.
So now I'm alone in the flat with Benny. It's probably not going to be possible to go cycling today or to the local gym, which I've been planning for a week, because of the constant rain. I got mud all over my shoes and trousers as I left the station, but at least I managed to get a seat on the van, unlike Monday when I had to wait for the second round. Now I know which train to take to get there early, and the silence and air conditioning are nice when you ignore the lack of sleep. I have to stay awake if I don't want to miss my stop.
At the college, the classes so far have been pretty introductory, but the people I've met so far are nice. Today, in the van, I started talking to a girl, Camila, who's been with me for half the train/subway ride, and we talked about the kinds of books and series we like and what we think of the teachers so far. It was nice. In class, the teacher made us introduce ourselves and say why we chose the course. Unfortunately, I hate introductions because they make me super nervous and I don't really know what to say. I ended up talking about my experience of jailbreaking my 3ds, my cousin who's doing a PhD in cs, and my web design here, where I only know html and css.
I'm physically and mentally very tired and my phone is still having problems with the humidity and refusing to charge. I haven't had any sailing lessons this week and I'm not going to—we'll have to reschedule them for Thursday and the weekend. All in all, I'm very very tired—but still alive.