More trees.
On a train with a wide, dorky smile,
Just passing by hundreds of trees.

Falls to rivers.
Lukewarm springs.
Cold water. Warm water.
On a hike with the most unreasonable rush
Just looking for smooth, glorious, running water.

Sacred palaces.
Giant caves.
In a maze, there’s nothing with more luster
Than a massive formation of rock, sand and dirt

Bright lights.
Dancing lights.
Blue, red, green, mauve, periwinkle, marigold and so on
On your back, intensely looking up
To millions of tiny, tiny flickering lights.

Tall buildings.
High towers.
Little diners.
Through courtyards and cobbled streets
Nothing more exciting and heart thumping
Than walking in circles in the great, big city.

Winging it.
Hitching the next ride.
Getting off after one town or two.

– A, 2014


all of the above

there’s that feeling of inadequacy again. i hate it. it’s like blackhole. and it’s sucking all my energy. all emotions, movements, thoughts. and the most terrible part is, i’m not panicking anymore; i’m letting it happen. that is how low this goes.

before i came to write, i was checking my midterm papers. fucking hell, am i ever getting better scores? how am i staring at failure in the face again while dangling off a high cliff this early? and then i just felt useless again. for nearly an hour, i laid in my bed beside my sad sad exam papers; heard only the fan beside me, felt only my heartbeat. 

am i deteriorating? they’re exams, i’m supposed to get them, like i’ve always had before. why am i not performing well?   

is there anything else that i can do that would make me feel adequate again? how do i fix me?

i talk big on how a person is not commensurate of the grades he makes but when it just slaps you dry and fiery red, that sometimes low scores just feel like you’re not good enough, my words just vanish and my thoughts just erode; it’s like an entire universe of principles collapsed because the arrow found its way to the achilles. it just hurts so bad, that nothing better can be done at this moment but just lie here and count heartbeats. at least by doing that, you can still rashly conclude you have a purpose, even if right now, your scores are not contributing to building it. 

for now, take me, blackhole. i hope i wake up in another world and come back to this one recharged and more determined.

Heart Rate (HR): seventy-two.. seventy-three.. seventy-four…   

med-yo badboy

i have the worst luck in group mates. how much responsibility do i need to learn for the odds to ever favor me slacking off a little. i wanna depend on something or someone too! i wanna delegate work, pick a deadline and be at least satisfied if not impressed once in a while. i’ve tried everything, from guilt tripping, threats, detailing everything and nagging really early; i always end up doing the bulk of the work. 

i don’t understand. why wont you do the work assigned to you? are you an idiot? and don’t pull the i’m-all-cool-and-apathetic-i-don’t-do-work on me because i’m a bigger douche and i’ll take that card and shove it in your pretentious, apathetic ass, because you know, i like to do that work.  

in fact,i don’t care if you are irresponsible as fuck, i just need you to deliver your message of apathy to my face; so that i don’t have to think about you and consider your ideas or the fact that maybe you have something useful to contribute. i mean, come on, i had to figure out for myself that you’re stupid?! have you never been in a group? have you never learned common courtesy ever in your life? because if you never have, oh meee, it looks dangerous for someone to dream too big as being a doctor if that’s how you act around people you’re supposed to work with.

people die because things go wrong; because people who don’t care enough are unfortunately misplaced to this profession; because people won’t pass their work on time. not because of low grades and extra semesters. sometimes the oddest man out is the only man who gives a damn. 

TO ALL YOU FREE LOAFERS OUT THERE, FUCK YOU ALL. ang unreliable mo, get out of medschool, cunt. 

p.s. i always get that one comment from someone random that i do oral reports well. every time. THANKS.  



i did a lot of things this week. i was up all nights. and all days. i am fucking beat. getattch_002

there were so many things this week that could have been done more efficiently. alas, i am surrounded by shamelessly pretentious people who are clearly just useless ones too. THIS SCHOOL IS A FUCKING JOKE. where do we go now.

please someone offer me a burger or just shoot me dead. thanks.  32594.original-9942 

p.s. because i’m not crazy just yet, excuse me, i have homework to finish.1339684791519_121026 

land ho!


the storm is almost over, gents. we only have one more exam to worry about and we’re off to maybe one and a half day of either mad drinking or mad sleeping.

as it is turning out though, i’m realizing that i might not have been that prepared for the exams as i imagined. i double checked answers that just.. weren’t. but then, who will ever be that prepared? at one point i’ve considered, “maybe i don’t test well” then i go on and rethink, “maybe i didn’t pay enough attention”.

but hellsballs, we’ve been through this. a lot. and the only reasonable, predictable and foolproof response is to move the fuck on. so adios amigos, i heard there was more rum on land.


p.s. wow our last exam is a piece of shit. look at all these words i’ve never heard of ever in a lecture, not once. here’s two fingers, choke on that.


panic attack

next week is prelims week. and tonight is the last sunday of my liiife!

i’m shitballs losing it.



this is literally me now.


this is that potato.


and, well, this is just nice.


the flatmate

i’m starting to hate living with my sister. she’s such a couch potato, seriously.

just when i’m getting the hang of getting a grip of my lifestyle, it slips when she’s here. i’m eating more than i should, i’m not working out, and i’m sleeping excessively. i get no work done. i understand that she comes home to rest and relax after being with patients all day but she is just amplifying too much lazy waves. she calls here and there expecting me to take care of her because she’s tired; i can’t. she wants to eat this and that and it’s getting more difficult to follow a diet like that. her TV is too loud and she sleeps wherever and whenever. that means i have to evacuate my truckload of necessary academic equipment to the next room every time. it’s driving me crazy.