‘2012 nat’l budget deceptive, anti-dev’t —IBON’ — Page 3 Philippine Collegian Opisyal na lingguhang pahayagan ng mga mag-aaral ng Unibersidad ng Pilipinas - Diliman 23 Agosto 2011 Taon 89, Blg. 10
Terminal Cases Delfin Mercado
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Artwork by RD Aliposa
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Isang mahinahon na paghimay sa gulo sa likod ng Kulo Kultura Pahina 8
The semantics Higit pa sa ginto of regression ang matatagpuan Editoryal Pahina 2 sa Bundok Abo Lathalain Pahina 6
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t was one of those few times when I was able to eat breakfast at home, together with my parents. It was an old and almost forgotten ritual, and I knew my parents won’t miss this opportunity to shower me with a tirade of questions. “Were have you been these past days?” “How come you only came home today? What’s up?” “How’s the university?” “When will you graduate?” Their questions fell silent on my plateful of waffles, the same waffles my mother served me on the fateful day that I took the UPCAT seven years ago. It was like the same plateful of waffles and bacon that she served on my first day in the university six years ago. It was a time when one need not wear IDs before entering any college, when there was no such thing as “bike lane” or Technohub, when the Toki route was a lot more predictable, when tuition was P300 per unit. “Delfin, sooner or later you have to graduate and move on with your life, you know that,” my mother said. “In time,” I said. But what I didn’t tell them was it’s not going to be in the near future. Sooner or later I need to find a course to shift to. No one gets a diploma as a non-degree student. Whatever happened to me? When I entered UP, I wanted to detach myself from all ties that bound me to my past and create a different identity, far from the whiz and clumsy student I was back in high school. I wanted to be different. I wanted to explore. I wanted to try it all. And so, in a span of four years, I hopped from course to course, hoping to find the course that fitted me best. But each time I shifted, I wanted something else, something more. Soon, I asked myself, what did I want – the course or the thrill of shifting to that course. At times, I feel it’s the latter. “Maybe, you’re with that band again, or that weird club of yours? Where were you the whole weekend?” my mother bellowed. I joined dozens of organizations, taking some seriously and others, all for the sake of fun. I never lasted a month in any of these organizations. Again, all I wanted was the thrill. And it comes as a surprise to me that after three months, I’m still writing for this paper. Why am I doing this? Is this still for the thrill of it? The sound of the silverware tinkered loudly in the silence. My parents were waiting for a reply. I stood up and left the table. I remembered, I still needed to write a column. ●