Of a hollow self and hollow books

DISCLAIMER: VERY VERY LONG, ONE SIDED AND MAY NOT EVEN MAKE SENSE. I just needed an outlet. 

At this moment, I'm supposed to be reading 150 pages worth of Philippine history for my midterm this week. I've started reading it before the weekend even ended and frankly if not for my fear of failing, that book would be buried deep in the trash. I should be reading now, but every part of my mind, heart and body told me otherwise. I suddenly felt the urge to write (something I haven't really done in the longest time). Lately, I've been finding myself down in the dumps a lot. Although I'd occassionally smile and feel happy in my life, the feeling of sadness would still somehow finds its way to me and consume every happy vibe. Everyone who knows me well knows that I am generally a happy person and now, I just can't bring myself to be happy for a whole day anymore. Is it depression? :| I just realized that I haven't written anything about my college life ever since it began two months ago. Before, I really couldn't figure out why. Then it dawned on me. There just really isn't anything worth writing about. I mean, fine. I enjoy the freedom of choosing our own classes, not having to wear a uniform anymore and having only a few hours of class but those are petty things. Looking past these "new experiences", I can safely say that I just feel plain and simply hollow. Nothing fills my soul enough anymore.

I MISS ART.

For the past four years, art was everywhere! In my thoughts, in my dreams, in my actions, in the air I breathe. I didn't have to look too far to find it. Sure, we'd still have the basic education classes, but art didn't leave us even for a second! Our exams, presentations, and projects always challenged us artistically. It's what made learning a lot more fun! Okay, sure, we didn't have Stat, or Calculus, heck we only made it to Circles in Geometry back in junior year! But the thing is, back then, I knew I understood the lessons and somehow I enjoyed them.

Ever since college began, it's as if my life went through this enormous vacuum where, if not all, almost everything I lived for was sucked out of me. I found myself back in a classroom, with a bag full of books, endless (forgive me) seemingly senseless readings, and Art was nowhere in sight to comfort me. I felt abandoned. I tried coping with the emptiness by watching plays and performances. They would fill the void at a certain point, but I feel useless and helpless as I watch these people onstage. I made an oath upon graduating that I should do something to contribute to the growth of art in the Philippines and here I am, being stagnant.

Shame on you, Joelle. What are you doing with your life.

I try to think positive, endlessly repeating to myself that it just isn't my time yet. So I go and try to be a student and study. Four years ago, I could do that with ease. Bury myself in a book, memorize every date, every person, get a good grade and make my parents proud. Looking back at what I studied before, not a single lesson stayed in my mind up to now. Four years after, I just can't seem to do it. Don't get me wrong. I understand what I read, it's just that, I can't seem to copy the words and paste them in my mind like I used to. These things need to have meaning to me or else it'll be senseless to remember the details. I am disappointed with most of my current mentors. Usually, I am thrilled with the thought of learning something new, especially if the mentors are as eager as I am to help their students learn. However, I am faced with the sad reality of our education: That man is generally afraid of change. My parents are educators, and one thing I've learned from hearing their discussions on the Philippines' education system is the fact that books are no longer enough. This is the 21st century! We cannot forever stick to what we're used to. We must immerse ourselves in the lessons and experience them firsthand if possible to capture the full essence of it all. What is the point of studying if we sooner or later choose to forget them because they have been mostly a pain in the head? Where have all the passionate mentors gone? I've always looked at most of my past mentors with high respects because I'd learn something new about life everyday. Sure, books were there but we hardly used them and we'd learn from stories. Sure, we'd have objective items, but most had questions that required us to voice out our opinions and the way we understood things. It felt good to be heard out. Why must our country have the two biggest malls in Asia but probably the least growth when it comes to education? I don't get it. I really really don't.

I am overwhelmed with so many things right now that I can't possibly say that what I just typed made sense anymore. I am, however, thankful for those who sympathize.

I've been at this for over an hour. I have a date with my history book.