I’ll blog today. No one can stop me, no not anatomy; not even RLE.
I’m breaking the rules today.



I’m currently listening to my Taken by Cars CD; deciphering every word of it. I just realized that it’s been so long since I bought this from AA. But still I fail to open its inlay (except for the times when I’m making a movie presentation on history) because of my hectic sched.



Contrary to Marilyn Manson’s, “I don’t like the drugs (but the drugs like me)”; I can say that I love Nursing; it’s just Nursing who don’t love me back.



This whole hospitalization thing has prompted me to stay and rest for weeks now. And I’ve been doing good since the first day I caught the fever (right after my physical assessment return demonstration, health history, etc.) that triggered the hiding typhoid in me. If you’re a nursing student, you’ll probably know that my coping and stress mechanisms are oh-so-low. Or is it just the nursing demands that are killing me. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s just me who’s really not for nursing.

During my confinement, surprisingly, my mother has told me that she’s been seeing me as an artist ever since. According to her, art has really been my forte and it’s just whoever (my father and aunts) who forces me to take up nursing. Although, I can say, that I’m also doing good on the academics, most preferably the sciences; I can tell that the right hemisphere of my brain is better than the left. She really wants me to take up multimedia arts or communication arts, my dream course. The course I’ve purposely chose to betray before. The course I’ve been wanting and dying to live in, but purposely chose to betray before. The course I’ve passed on my dream university, but purposely chose to betray before. The course I’ve fought for, but purposely chose to betray before. The course I’ve fought for, and won over, but purposely chose to betray before.

It saddens me to know, that it’s just now that I’ve realized that I’m not happy with my nursing life. That I thought I was, but I never were. Two years have passed when I cast the verdict of taking up nursing as my career. And for the past two years, I still haven’t met anyone in our school who share the same interests with me. It saddens me to know, that it is just now that myself has been unravelling itself to me, again. It saddens me to know, that I’ve lost myself; that the real Ayee in me has been long forgotten because of the nursing prerequisites. Sir Meal’s (my literature professor) right, we’re being trained as robots. It’s as if I was the teacher on, "Why the English Teacher died on Christmas Day"—I’m on a struggle. A man vs. man conflict in which no one wants to get involved with. It saddens me to know, that I still don’t have the guts to shift courses. Here I go disappointing myself for the nth time. Time flies when you’re in my shoes. I just hope this won’t happen to you.



I’ll be back schooling tomorrow, and as expected; I’ll be back to my old routine. I still don’t know when I will be back to my sane self though. How I wish its sembreak already.




The hospital is my happy place; but not as a nurse.


[EDIT.]
I'm ok now, I just need to vent this all out of my system. Pardon me, I've haven't fully recovered from my amoebiasis yet.