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One of the best terms in my college years is the last term before my graduation. Why not, when all I did was read! I only had four classes, and although I always had the option to cut them on lazy days, more often I opted not to, because I enjoyed all minus one of my subjects. Add to that the thought that my school days are numbered. When again will I be  sitting in a room of 30 people, listening to professors talk about murder fiction,  philosophy or the great works of writers?

Those were the months I intentionally read my crime fiction readings at night, alone in my dimmed room to intensify my experience of the stories and yes, it did give me chills. That was the only term my thoughts about life were almost answered, especially when I decided to  write  down my favorite ideas from different existentialist thinkers to remind myself how I choose to see life. It’s also the term when I learned a few other things that popped into my stream of consciousness, a series of notes-to-self, some of which I wish I realized earlier: do not plan out your life too much; spend more; relish solitude; and continue making animal sounds, because apparently I’m not the only legal adult who has the urge to blurt out a moo or an arf.

Note: This is an entry dated March 15, 2008 from my previous blog. I was a college freshman back then. I’d say this is a lovely piece (whether you agree or not). It captures one of the more important realizations I had in my journey as a young woman, along with other circumstances that taught me the joy of being in solitude. Here it is, with a few edits.


Thanks to the submit button, I am stuck with three and a half. Hours.

That would have been a line of sarcasm two months ago, but really, I thank myself for the careless mistake I made.

When your school gives you the chance to enroll online, you grab that chance. I did. I also grabbed someone’s ass and the wrong section. Submit. D’oh!

Such haste in submission backfired. All other subjects were in place except for my Literature class. I ended up taking it during the early hours of the morning, leaving me with a break from 0930-1300 every TH (That’s Tuesday and Huwebes for La Salle). Now, some of my friends may still be sleeping or perhaps having a class, so I’d be a loner twice a week for three and a half hours in school. I had to kill time, even if it meant breaking commandment #6.

Some of the things I attempted:

  1. Visit the chapel every week to have a closer relationship with God (Now, this only worked for around two sets of TH)
  2. Go to the mall
  3. Sleep in the library
  4. Study
  5. Read a book
  6. Stay in Cybernook so people can’t enroll while I go surfing
  7. Practice touch typing for fun

Before I had all these break time attempts, it felt like the letter L sticker was upon my forehead, so I had a plan of action to avoid bumping into people I know.

Strategy is the key. I would eat my lunch when most people are still sleeping/ listening/ fantasizing in their classes while the teacher discusses about the economic and political situation of the country. That would be around half past ten?

Now, thinking of where to eat and when to eat is not how I’d like to spend ten minutes of my tissue-roll-long break. Soon enough, I had an epiphany (Hallelujah!). When you’re in college, people don’t give a damn about your status during breaks. Single? Just (with) friends? With a lover? It did not matter if one went on a solo flight–something I learned to enjoy eventually. No one really cares, and I like it. I now eat my lunch loud (err, not that loud!) and proud.

mr. monopoly

Error in my favor indeed!