10.06.05
sem-ender…
a student and a friend of mine remarked about my entries here. seems like its always raining everytime i put in an entry. 
like what i told her, the weather plays a much coveted role in my ramblings. it brings out all the despondency in me. yes, im a seasonal writer. i need intense emotions, dramas and passion to create a piece that will ‘touch the heart’ of my readers. but i seriously don’t think it touches anyone’s heart, because if it does, then it should have touched YOUr heart and rendered a powerful impact in YOUr highly medical mind.
…im not supposed to talk about YOU anymore, ever in my entries. im just keeping it to myself. ACCEPTANCE–a good friend of mine reminded me. it would never happen. it was nice to know someone like you, thank YOU very much for the inspiration, but good-bye. this is the end…
…was checking test papers and computing my students’ grades. brings me back to the usual question i always ask myself at the end of each sem. how effective had i been? the test results were depressing, or perhaps it is for me because i had high expectations from them. but as i read their answers, it made me wonder how well and how good i had been as their teacher (or how bad, if that’s another way of putting it). it has always bothered me whether i was able to meet their expectations, whether i was able to share something worthwhile to them, whether i had been the ‘teacher’ i was supposed to be to them. more than just the passing and transfer of knowledge, im supposed to mold them into more critical individuals, train them to think for themselves, and generally, add something of value to what they already possess. it’s a strange feeling of paranoia that even the teacher’s evaluation can’t seem to dispel away. id like to think that i was able to share something that they can use in the future, no matter how petty and trivial it may seem to them for now.
… teaching—probably this is my only way to leave a legacy in this world. this may be the only way for me to share something of myself, even if the whole universe revolts at my existence.
…idealism—make use of it while it lasts. who knows, i might wake up a completely different person tomorrow, bitter, cynical, a hardened traveler of life. and by then, i would be too self-obsessed to try to even think of things like legacy and sharing.
…and no, its not raining. seems like ive developed a penchant for rainy days and sentimental mumblings. hopefully something bright and sunny looms ahead…the skies will eventually clear…this too shall pass…
