With a looming quiz in our Art Appreciation class the next day, I opted to have a coffee at Starbucks, San Miguel by the Bay to wake myself up from sleepiness. Because I know, when I get home, I would straightly go to bed and knock off my 2-digit-hours lack of sleep because of past commitments and requirements.
It was Thursday night, the breeze was gentle and cold. I came at the place at around 9.45 in the evening and ordered a grande mocha espresso. The scent of coffee upon arrival instantly caught my senses. I felt up-and-on-the-go in an instant. Truly, coffee brings pleasure and multifarious benefits in our health - when taken in moderation, at least.
I sat on the two-seater couch at the corner of the coffee shop. I started to store the pieces of information of my poorly-written notes (which I have forced to write during our last week's session amidst my SUPER sleepy self) in my poor memory bank. History of Music. Troubadors. Brass. Fiedel to Viol to Violin. Francesco Landini. John Dunstable.
10 minutes. 20 minutes. 30, 40, 50. One hour. History of Music. Troubadors. Brass. Fiedel to Viol to Violin. Francesco Landini. John Dunstable. Laboriously, I tried to memorize the words, concepts and terminologies; I ended up memorizing the 1st page of my notes in an hour.
I continued to sip my grande and furthered my review. A group of yuppies sat in front of me, ordered their frappes and boisterously exchanged kwentos with one other. Another group sat on the couch beside me, one of them telling his friends, "Hoy huwag kayo maingay. May nagre-review. May magmi-midterm." I gave this guy a quick smile and got back to my notes to continue reviewing.
History of Music. Troubadors. Brass. Fiedel to Viol to Violin. Francesco Landini. John Dunstable. I browsed the pages of my notebook to approximate how long would my review be. 1, 2, 3... 7 and 8. Eight pages. Great! At 11 in the evening, with an hour and 15 that passed, and a grande coffee at my table, in the scent of the coffee beans exposed at the counter, with the laughter and voices of the people around me, I have succeeded to master the first page of my eight-page notes.
Tired and bored with my laborious Art Appreciation review, I took out my pen and a piece paper and started scribbling down words that are playing in my head:
Minsan, ang mga salita bigla na lang lumilitaw. Parang tubig sa ilog na hindi tumitigil sa pag-agos. Humahampas ang lakas ng tubig sa naglalakihang bato upang magpatuloy ng kasiglahan ng ilog. Sa mga ganitong pagkakataon, nabubuo ang obra. Ang pag-agos ng mga salita sa daluyan ng dugo ng manunulat ay patuloy. Walang humpay. Agos lang nang agos. Patuoy ang buhay.
Pero minsan, ang mga salita'y biglang naglalaho. Parang isang masiglang sapa na natuyuan ng tubig. Wala nang buhay, wala nang kulay. Mainit. Patay. Sa kawalan ng kapayapaan sa isipan ay nahihigop ang enerhiya sa paggawa ng isang obra. Walang lakas. Walang sigla.
Walang salitang makapipinta sa kalungkutan. At wala ding salitang makapagpapaliwanag sa kaligayahan. Nabubuo ang obra sa kawalan. Puso ang nagsasalita sa tunay na nararamdaman.
I placed my writing on top of the table and got my notebook to continue my review. I glanced at my watch, it was already 11.30. I looked outside; drops of rain blurred the sight of the lamppost from afar. It started to rain. I texted Papa and asked him if he could fetch me. After a couple of minutes, he replied. And I continued reviewing again.
Now waiting for Papa to arrive, I got another piece of paper and wrote again.
I kept my notebook, folded the pieces of paper, and rested my back on the couch that comforted me. I received a text from Papa telling that he was already in front of Padi's. I went out with my jacket, ran amidst the rain towards Papa's car.
Over-all, I only studied 1/8 of my lesson for review for my quiz in Art Appreciation.
It was Thursday night, the breeze was gentle and cold. I came at the place at around 9.45 in the evening and ordered a grande mocha espresso. The scent of coffee upon arrival instantly caught my senses. I felt up-and-on-the-go in an instant. Truly, coffee brings pleasure and multifarious benefits in our health - when taken in moderation, at least.
I sat on the two-seater couch at the corner of the coffee shop. I started to store the pieces of information of my poorly-written notes (which I have forced to write during our last week's session amidst my SUPER sleepy self) in my poor memory bank. History of Music. Troubadors. Brass. Fiedel to Viol to Violin. Francesco Landini. John Dunstable.
10 minutes. 20 minutes. 30, 40, 50. One hour. History of Music. Troubadors. Brass. Fiedel to Viol to Violin. Francesco Landini. John Dunstable. Laboriously, I tried to memorize the words, concepts and terminologies; I ended up memorizing the 1st page of my notes in an hour.
I continued to sip my grande and furthered my review. A group of yuppies sat in front of me, ordered their frappes and boisterously exchanged kwentos with one other. Another group sat on the couch beside me, one of them telling his friends, "Hoy huwag kayo maingay. May nagre-review. May magmi-midterm." I gave this guy a quick smile and got back to my notes to continue reviewing.
History of Music. Troubadors. Brass. Fiedel to Viol to Violin. Francesco Landini. John Dunstable. I browsed the pages of my notebook to approximate how long would my review be. 1, 2, 3... 7 and 8. Eight pages. Great! At 11 in the evening, with an hour and 15 that passed, and a grande coffee at my table, in the scent of the coffee beans exposed at the counter, with the laughter and voices of the people around me, I have succeeded to master the first page of my eight-page notes.
Tired and bored with my laborious Art Appreciation review, I took out my pen and a piece paper and started scribbling down words that are playing in my head:
Minsan, ang mga salita bigla na lang lumilitaw. Parang tubig sa ilog na hindi tumitigil sa pag-agos. Humahampas ang lakas ng tubig sa naglalakihang bato upang magpatuloy ng kasiglahan ng ilog. Sa mga ganitong pagkakataon, nabubuo ang obra. Ang pag-agos ng mga salita sa daluyan ng dugo ng manunulat ay patuloy. Walang humpay. Agos lang nang agos. Patuoy ang buhay.
Pero minsan, ang mga salita'y biglang naglalaho. Parang isang masiglang sapa na natuyuan ng tubig. Wala nang buhay, wala nang kulay. Mainit. Patay. Sa kawalan ng kapayapaan sa isipan ay nahihigop ang enerhiya sa paggawa ng isang obra. Walang lakas. Walang sigla.
Walang salitang makapipinta sa kalungkutan. At wala ding salitang makapagpapaliwanag sa kaligayahan. Nabubuo ang obra sa kawalan. Puso ang nagsasalita sa tunay na nararamdaman.
I placed my writing on top of the table and got my notebook to continue my review. I glanced at my watch, it was already 11.30. I looked outside; drops of rain blurred the sight of the lamppost from afar. It started to rain. I texted Papa and asked him if he could fetch me. After a couple of minutes, he replied. And I continued reviewing again.
Now waiting for Papa to arrive, I got another piece of paper and wrote again.
Gusto kong tumigil ang ulan.
Wala akong payong.
Gusto kong tumigil ang oras.
Marami pa akong gagawin.
Gusto kong manatiling gising.
Kailangan ko pang mag-aral.
Gusto ko nang sumuko.
Pero alam kong kaya ko pa.
Kailangan lang tumigil ng ulan.
Kailangan lang tumigil ng oras.
Kailangan ko lang manatiling gising.
Kaya pa.
Wala akong payong.
Gusto kong tumigil ang oras.
Marami pa akong gagawin.
Gusto kong manatiling gising.
Kailangan ko pang mag-aral.
Gusto ko nang sumuko.
Pero alam kong kaya ko pa.
Kailangan lang tumigil ng ulan.
Kailangan lang tumigil ng oras.
Kailangan ko lang manatiling gising.
Kaya pa.
I kept my notebook, folded the pieces of paper, and rested my back on the couch that comforted me. I received a text from Papa telling that he was already in front of Padi's. I went out with my jacket, ran amidst the rain towards Papa's car.
Over-all, I only studied 1/8 of my lesson for review for my quiz in Art Appreciation.
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