From dread to desperation

I have been dreading to get the results of my math long test today, and find out that I failed it. Fortunately, our teacher haven't finished checking the papers yet. But although she didn't return our papers, she discussed the answers with us, which was more torturous seeing that my answers did not tally with hers. There, sitting infront between my classmates Martin and Lee-anne, I anxiously listened to our teacher's discussion. Every time I get an item wrong I try to hide my disappointment and silently hope that she would give me partial points for trying to answer the question. I got a 97/100 and a 100 perfect in my last two long test; from there I thought that it was possible for me to attain a grade of 90 to get exempted in the finals. That was my goal, but since my grade in the third long test will be much lower than my first two, I find that it's not as possible as before.

It was quite unlike me to make a big thing of my grades in math. In fact, on my first year first semester math, it only mattered that I pass. But now seeing as it is quite attainable to get a 90 or above and to get exempted from the finals. All of my friends knew that it was my goal to get exempted, and the whole room knew that I got very high grades in my two long tests, since the teacher always announce the top three highest scores.

And then I realized that although I truly regret getting a lower grade than my previous two exams, I was more bothered at what the rest of the class will think when they found out that I got a lower grade. I have built an impression that I can easily get high grades, and I don't want to disappoint that image. It was probably the "politician" in me who pleases everyone and live up to the expectation of others.

Having knowledge of this, I realized just how caged I am.

A Rat in my bathroom

It was 12:00 midnight when I went down, a towel hanging on my shoulders and my clothes in my right arm, to take a shower. Since it is summer, I always take a bath before I sleep, that way it’s a lot cooler when I go to bed. Before I went to the bathroom I put the clothes I was carrying on a chair and went to the fridge beside it. I opened the fridge, its white surface reflecting the fluorescent light over head behind me. I bent over to reach the brown Chips Ahoy package and slide out the transparent semi-cylinder containing the chocolate chip cookies. I took one cookie and ate it in front of the open fridge. After finishing my third cookie I slid the container back and returned the Chips Ahoy package back in the fridge and drank some water.

I went to the sink behind me to wash my glass and brush my teeth. Afterwards I collected my clothes and then went to the bathroom to take my shower. The first thing I noticed, before I took off my house slippers and slip my feet into the bathroom slippers, was a small rat squished at the bottom right of the bathroom door. The poor thing might have been scuttling to get outside of the bathroom when someone came in. But unfortunately it was not quick enough to get through the gap before the door closed.

I just ignored it, partly because I don’t want the idea of something looking at me when I take a bath, especially when its eyes are bulging out; and partly because I don’t want to clean up this mess. It would be easier to deny that I saw the squished creature and have someone else who noticed it clean it up. Anyway, when I closed the door, the rat was completely obscured from view.

It was my habit of splashing the tiled floor with water, as if conditioning myself and my surrounding. It was good that I did too, because as soon as I started splashing water another small rat appeared scampering to the closed door, finding a way to get out. It was jumping up and down at the edges of the door, hopelessly trying to get out. After it realized that it won’t be able to get out it retreated behind the pink stand filled with shampoos which was below the bathroom sink just in front of the door. I was at the shower area, my towel over my shoulders, my clothes in my left arm, and on my right hand was a pink pail of water ready to splash again at the area where the rat retreated to. I splashed once, twice, thrice… it took me around five pails of water before the rat came scuttling out of its hiding place and to the door. This time I was prepared, when it dashed to the door I was thinking of hitting it hard with my slippers. It should knock him out and I could sweep it away and have my shower. I was already reaching for my slippers when the rat squeaked. I stopped and thought how helpless the rat was. But then, it was only a rat, it’s not a human being. It’s a pest and so I must get rid of it.

I remembered the movie Saving Private Ryan which I saw earlier that day or yesterday to be precise. The movie was about a squad in World War 2 who were assigned to look for a Private Ryan and to get him home because all his three brothers died in the war. The squad lost two of its men before they found Ryan. What I remembered in the film was when the squad let their German prisoner-of-war go after a brief struggle with machine guns and losing their medic. In the end, the German prisoner they let go was rescued by his fellow Germans. This German killed the squad’s Jew soldier and the Squad’s Captain.

There is no telling what repercussions will result if I let this small rat go. Like the German who killed the Captain of the squad who let him go, this rat may chew a hole on my rubber shoes, or nibble on my books.

The rat was still now; it was just standing at the door’s edge. It was a perfect target, I couldn’t miss. But something kept me back. Then the rat retreated to its former hiding place as if sensing my original plans. I stared at the Mane and Tail shampoo at the pink stand. Although I didn’t see it, I know that the rat was hiding behind that bottle of shampoo.

It was only a rat, it wouldn’t kill, it couldn’t kill me, and unless it has fleas bearing the bubonic plague, it’s not quite fatal. And I’ve been seeing rats around the house for two years, but they haven’t touched any of my shoes, my books, or my clothes.

Probably it was more appropriate to use the story of the lion and the mouse as an allegory instead of Saving Private Ryan. In the story of the lion and the mouse the lion let the mouse go after catching it. The next time they meet the mouse helped the lion escape from the ropes that trapped him. Perhaps this rat may someday repay me. It was possibly better to let the helpless rat go. After all I’m going to take a shower and I’ve wasted enough time thinking if I should kill this rat or not.

Slowly I opened the door and splashed water behind the stand where the little rat is hiding. Soon it dashed out of its hiding place and scurried to the open door. Finally it was out of the bathroom. I let it go; after all it’s a rat, not a human being. And besides, I don’t like taking a bath with a rat running around at my feet.

Come Back My Friend

I haven't revised this poem, unlike the first two that I have posted. But I submitted it to Poetry.com and they published it in their book, on the first page. The idea was highly influenced by Captain Holly Short from the book, Artemis Fowl. So whenever I think of the fairy in the poem, I think of Capt. Short

Come Back My Friend

Stop believing in fairies and they will leave you forever.

Oh my Friend, my dear friend,
Come back, come back don't leave me alone.
It was not I but a fiend!
Oh please, oh please come back home.

I didn't know;
My mind it said it is not true.
Now I know I shouldn't say no,
To a green friend with wings of blue.

Oh Fairy friend, please come back.
I am alone.
I need your magic that I lack,
Please heal my fractured bone.

I believe you before,
But my mind does not.
Oh save me from growing, or
In my heart you will exist not.

Oh fairy friend, oh Fairy friend
Does your silence mean you're gone?

The Importance of Learning How to Kiss

This one was also submitted for my Lit 14 project and revised 4-5 times. I wrote this when the funny idea of having an awkward sex popped in my mind. I found it comical when the woman would leave the man in the middle of--- things---, because the man don't know how to kiss.

The Importance of Learning How to Kiss

It was merely an infatuation for her,

And still we ended up in bed.

But my innocence can not sing her melody

Which was all the cause for this parody.

She undressed, so I followed after,

And like Adam and Eve, on bed we lay naked.

My body, my flesh upon her fingers hatch,

Arching up to her overwhelming touch.

I caressed her breast, like my infancy to my mother,

And hugged her as tightly as I hug my bear Ted.

But when she planted her lips into mine,

My lips parted not for her passionate design.

Nothing, when our lips met no spark was there,

Only an act of stupid imitation in bed.

As I did not passionately return her kiss,

She pulled back and started to hiss.

It is clear how gravely I offended her,

Though it would have been perfect in bed.

All perfect in bed, perfect as it is,

But she left me because I didn’t know how to kiss.

The Power I Thought I Didn’t Have

I revised this poem, 4-5 times... I submitted it for my Lit14 project. And I wrote this while listening to School of Rock OST.

The Power I Thought I Didn’t Have

Touched by heaven, they say I was

Skilled and talented in a lot of arts

But struck by one misfortune, I was

That I feel I lack some parts.

Oh what fun it would be

To be able to sing so delightfully

To hear every animal and tree cry out with me

As we play music and dance joyfully.

And sit by the roots of old man willow

Who tells the story of a singing prince.

Who delivered a princess from her sorrow,

And an ogre he killed without a wince.

Or sit by Lady River’s bank

And hear her tell of an old man

Who’s song this land in tree and life he sank

And by the same song, made the rivers ran.

All the while I was blissful in my room alone,

Listening to songs, oh how happy it makes me,

Pretending to be in another place far from home,

Excellently singing joy to others and to me.

Thus, snapped back to reality I was

I realized how loudly I was singing

For my sister went in, and in pajamas she was

“I didn’t know you were good at singing.”