#7.a A Snob: "With No Words"

I rang the doorbell of a dim-lighted house; hesitating whether there was somebody home or none. All of the lights were out although it was nearly seven in he evening.

On the piece of paper I checked awhile ago, this empty two-story house belonged to a financial analyst named Simone in her early twenty's.

I was about to leave when after a couple of minutes, I noticed that a faint light from beside the front door has illuminated. Must be a lampshade, I guessed. And thereafter, the main door has finally opened. I cannot clearly see the face of the lady standing yet in there who must also be trying to figure me out from my stand here by the light post beside her whitewashed fence but through her petite size, I knew that she is a woman.

It is the beginning of winter already and this girl must have not known that yet until tonight as I see her tighten her grip from the light-cotton robe she was wearing.

I stood there patiently as she made her way to me and I could not help myself but to stare at her sharply as she does the same. I knew it is kind of rude but that is what is going on in between us. But I think that that wary look in her eyes is maybe because of how I happen to be in a chilly evening such as tonight.

"What can I do for you?" She spoke dominantly. Her voice was solid, her stand was fixed and I could read from her behavior that she is adamant.

I abruptly froze on my feet when I have seen her squint her eyes―suspiciously studying me head-to-soles. Just by then have I felt intimidated by her because I remembered how I dress so well, like yes, too well. I squeezed the sling of my obviously old duffel bag which I bet she has guessed already that I cannot afford to buy a new one of this. If she has noted my bag, how much of the possibility could she have missed to notice my black rugged tailcoat I was wearing that was but the old and only coat I have? Who would I even have to blame with my unpolished shoes that I have been using since a year previously?

I was aware that my expression has changed after I have felt embarrassed of myself because her faint ocean-blue eyes had found its time to look away from me. I then cleared my throat and nervously took the letter and package for her that was after all, the sole purpose of my being here.

"A letter and a package for you, madame," I said reverently as I handed these to her. "Please sign here."

She hastily took the delivery from my hands and signed the paper hurriedly, too. With no words, she nodded and turned her back from me with the slightest hint that she felt disgusted of me.

#6 Somewhere With Someone

...the last thing I remembered I was at was inside my room, sweetly smiling at the oblivious nowhere outside my window as I listened to his harmonious voice on the phone.

Everything happened unexpectedly fast that at an instant, I was already sitting on the leather passenger seat of his masculine-scented Innova car and he drove us around unfamiliar places. I recognized few of the roads we passed until he masterfully rounded his car and up in a dim-lighted and spiral driveway have we went.

I did not really perceived the place right but although it was not well-illuminated, I appreciated the open atmosphere its surrounding had gave. I delightfully complimented the place and boisteriously had I delivered my admiration of it that my amplified voice overlapped the pop music that has been filling in the little intervals of silence that would awkwardly stretch in between us.

The funny and inexplicably romantic part of our journey to a place I have not known yet until that time was when both of his hands were on his steering wheel, he was still seated on the driver's seat, his mind and soul was still in him but, but the way he looked at me like I'm that beautiful girl he barely sees just made me hold my breath at that particular moment. I even whispered to myself after having behaved that my sudden exclamation and mindless decision to gaze at him was a bad idea. Very.

Fortunately, he finally parked the car on a free lot and so I quickly opened the door and got out. But whoa, I did not expect to see such secluded place in a city that is just as peaceful and mind-calming as it was. There were no less than seven eight-footed light posts that stood at every possible corner of a circular place which the wet green bushes had formed. Benches were intelligently scattered at locations where the view would be amazing especially when it is on top of a hill maybe, and I would dare say that it is a good place for lovers to date exclusively or where private talks can be made during cold evenings as that.

We sat at one of the benches where we would be facing a whitewashed building and exchanged arbitrary questions to each other. It was not long after we arrived that the grey-clouded sky offered an ice-cold bath of raindrops to pour on us. And so, due to the weather, we have had decided to leave the area.

City Hall of Iligan City, 21st of August, 8:32pm.

#1 Underneath My Soles

 Blog #1: Underneath My Soles: weenang24.blogspot.com

#5 Suhi

Suhi is the first theatrical play I have ever seen. It was a privilege for me to witness such great and mindblowing performance with a very interesting storyline that will always doubtessly catch anyone's attention besides their stage background and effects.

I dare say that being there was indeed a cost in behalf of my being a student but on the big picture, it was worthy than expected.

The storyline started in the middle of an empirical chaos, may sound superb but that is what it is for me, which the play's main or focused tribe was at the peak of their defeat due to the lack of number of soldiers set in the frontline, ready for defense anytime.

What made the story fascinating was that at the moment they were amidst the chaotic situation they were in, it so happened that that was the only point all of the other conflicts arose: conflicts that they had buried ignored for a long time beforehand.

It honestly tickled my curiosity of how will they put a closure to their problem - also one reason why I kind of got excited of how it will end - when they were all confronting as of to who kept and where was their tribe's successor. Although I already knew who the next throne-seater was, having been informed days before the play, the details of how he will be acknowledged kept me hanging.

At the end, after the rightful blue blood has been known, I was taken aback to see that his mother and at the same time his wife, has committed suicide due to the revelation. That was for me, truthfully unexpected. I could not conclude anything else for the reason of her deed but that it was because of the unacceptance of the great shocking enlightenment she had received.

Overall, I had a great time anticipating and appreciating the play.

#4 Deafening Noise of Silence ("Let It Go" Version)

So quiet..so quiet. So quiet!

Today was a very stressful day for me and my classmates. Although we have known that it will be, and I have known certainly that it would be, it seems to be the creepiest day that I have ever encountered in taking a chapter exam.

Just last Tuesday, our professor has told us to prepare for the given examination. And yes, since it has been pretty obvious to us that we have been pushed to the limits to catch up with whatever our lesson for the past few days had been, we felt that we were forced to immediately squeeze our heads to understand what we were unable to understand.

Would it be possible for us to get mentally paralyzed afterwards? Or beforehand? I don't know.

Last night, or the rest of the afternoon yesterday in general, up to last night, oh man! I preoccupied myself with reviewing my notes. And only until then was I able to remember that I forgot to wake myself up during most of the discussions. Pathetic, alright. But what was good to know is that I only fell asleep not at all lectures. So I got to look at few of the lessons we had had which was for me, still not good enough because I get stuck for like ten minutes staring at how the solution came up with such an answer overnight.

Before I forget to mention, I was in company of one of my board mates who tend to be having the same course of subject as mine. So to speak, the moon and the stars yesterday evening was not as hard on me as I suspected.

I was able to ask two or three questions accordingly as we have gone through the topics on both of our books and hers and my notes, and because she was not that nerdy at all but a bit bubbly and cute to be exact, I enjoyed getting serious and getting silly both at the same time.

Meanwhile, as student, I am part a lover still like most of my age. So to see my hubby passing by the staircase and somehow trying to steal the attention I was pouring over my reviewers, I felt both the heavenly distraction and the thundered hell in me. Heavenly because who would deny that feeling all the hearts and the showered petals within oneself is absolutely exhilarating? But, thundered, too, because I can not afford every single moment to pass out on me with obviously too many papers and numbers laid on my table! I can not buy time to review again and also, I can not steal another chance like last night sooner. So how is that supposed to be faced by another time, maybe?

Anyway, so much of last night, let us go back to what has happened this afternoon.

To enter our designated classroom was a piece of a cupcake, yes, but to think that after getting settled on my seat, it did not take time for our professor to come in and start giving us a sheet of a problematic paper with a bunch of numbers in a row! Oh..I so love Algebra.

We were honored to consume all of our class hour and to pass an hour and a half just holding a pen and looking down at our questionnaire and onto our answer sheet seemed to be ridiculously a joke for me! Was not my professor kidding me? Or us? Whatever. It just seemed to have no justice at all.

But there was the silly side of my hypothalamus again—chanting to me the melody that I learned to hate and accepted to love: Let It Go. 

I tried. You know, I tried. I really did try. But the power of that song and of its melody just seem to haunt my nerves down and so I began to sing! And yes, absolutely yes! I sang in falsetto on my seat while answering those numerical equations and amidst the classmates I have who tend to lend their ears on my song. I could have felt shy or even embarrassed afterwards. But what surprised me is that I neither felt both. Maybe because I enjoyed or somewhat like that but a part of my head again has bumped an idea in me that it was, idiomatically speaking, because of the deafening noise of silence in our room.

And what made it even better, what made me feel even better, is that in the middle of our agony—the examination itself—I made my classmates laugh.

#3 Courteousness

'"The homeless man stops and says, "Thank you very much."'

Isn't it a catch for attention to read a passage discussing the values of men? The reading text entitled, 'No One Stops To Say "Thank You" Anymore' by L.A Wilson really had made a deep sense of morality even in small things. It awakens what it wants to disturb in a particular angle of our character. Isn't it amazing how the author has succeeded in giving out what she wanted us to convey?

If there is one particular thing that tickled my wonders, it would be the very subject of the text. Even just by reading the title, you would say, "Woah. This may be an interesting article to read." But the enthusiasm I had had did not flinch even in the slightest possibility it could have had. Who would have thought that more than its title, the article itself, as a whole, had a deeper and unique way in bargaining what it is to bargain. It had stated a lot of aspects that one might have just considered as meaningless or can be totally ignored but it did put a whole lot of different picture inside any reader's mind especially in mine.

Courteousness is not about being good at other people's eyes but it is significantly about building our character through our words, thoughts, and deeds. It might help us a lot or give us an air balloon of self-actualization anytime, anywhere. One might think that the other person do not mind at all if we say polite words or do courtesies to them but hey, we do not know at all!

I am born in the world of a me-first generation. And I could say that I actually have had get used to the majority of my age, bumping and not bothering to even say a word or two even a favor has been done to them. But still, the influence of the people whom I have grown up with had meant a lot for me to do things and say things that most teens nowadays do not give a thought in doing.

Occassionally, I am amidst a bustling crowd in everyday's hastiness. And since I am already full of my peers' ignorance in courteousness, I honestly get surprised when one or two do really mind saying, "I'm sorry" or "Excuse me." Being taken aback at their words and their undeniable character, I beam at them like forever is not enough to remember their small politeness that they have shown me.

Sometimes, I think twice as to why people now do not put a remark to theirselves particularly to these kind of things. I'm not saying that I am perfect but I know for myself that words, especially when you mean to say one, do really make a big difference.

A simple "Please" and "Thank You" could mean a lot to anybody who conceals their desire to hear one, right? Because some may not know unless they get one that these words denoting courteousness could actually make them feel self-gratification and importance.

"Good words are worth much and cost little." -Herbert

#2 The Language Learner

How fond am I of talking? Well, I guess I do have more than fondness for it. I have a deep intimacy for it. In my age usually, talking means everything. It triggers us to communicate more and be expressive. And since, to reveal wholly of what we feel, all of us needs and has to want to learn how to communicate not only to where we reside but also to the world. But how?

Samuel Johnson once quoted, "language is the dress of our thoughts." And indeed, he was truly right.

Language gives us the pass to portals of other people's minds. No one really knows when we had had the language we have been using since the beginning of time and human race. We are so crafty and crazy about things that usuably, we tend to not notice the evolution of our words and so, we talk not prior to what we want to say.

Why? If then that language is the dress of our thoughts, the choice of words then also matter that much.

They do, yes, worth much and cost little. So how do we then contemplate the language as a whole and the words, a part of it?

First, we need to be wary when somebody is talking to us. It's after all, a twig that connects us to the roots. Their choice of words would somehow give us some cue of how they feel and what they perceive. It would also show us a hint of how we would be using and what kind of words would we be stating. Our listening skills in this point is used. Therefore, to listen is significant into becoming a good language learner.

Second, after listening so to the things the second person of the conversation has been saying, our response or opinion to the subject would count. It definitely would especially when we could clearly say what it is in our mind. For what a person cannot clearly state, he does not know. Thus, as  Quintillian quoted, "clearness is the most important matter in the use of words." Then another important detail we must not forget into molding ourselves as a good language learner is to practice communication.

 Lastly, to whatever cost it may be, an enthusiastic language learner must be open to feedbacks when they are corrected by the others. It is not to give them a chance to be dominant but by giving yourselves an opportunity to be humbled and be more determined to learn communication not just through writing but also to speaking more importantly.

There are a lot of reason why we should be proactive into learning communication by taming it down to language mastery.

Do you have your ways, too?