Only the Past Cut Across

It’s a main road, where most cars get caught in a traffic jam (or worse, car wrecks) during rush hours. It was four-thirty in the morning, first day of the year. Jeepneys, countable by fingers, passed by in a slow drive, carrying no passengers. No other human being was around, except me. The stillness, occasionally broken by passing cars, hung thick on the air, as if the fireworks and cheers as two years separated had happened decades ago. It felt as if people are meaning to celebrate the New Year just because they have to, not because they really mean to. Creepy. And there I was, walking all the way to the hospital. I found it very ironic (and quite unfair) why I had to work for twelve whole hours that day. As the charge nurse.

It was January one, a signal of a beginning, like a “BANG” of a gun at the start of a race. the people asleep; I, awake. For me, it was just another working day. More patients because it was a holiday, mostly comprising of vehicular accidents and hypertensive crises victims. There was no free time to ponder about resolutions, because for this year I resolved that everyday I should have a resolution. Attempting to learn and ponder hard even from simple experiences may be the best answer.

Conclusion: Holidays are empty for workers; all they actually cared about are working to get the double pays. Happy New Year anyway; I hope you’re starting it right. In my case, I still have to accustom myself on writing x/x/2010 on patients’ charts. And by the way, everything just feels like last year for me. People should really stop overemphasizing resolutions crap every new year, especially if they end up failing AGAIN (and again). Not meaning to set this entry off in a pessimistic tone, but really, who are they kidding? Who are you kidding?

Blank.
-mia-

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Here it is!

My fresh start for twenty-ten!
I have already added the people special to me. I hope you add me back!Many people have been asking me why the sudden username change, and I’m saying the sole reason now: nekoism doesn’t feel like me anymore. You know the feeling when you see your past entries, and you feel alienated because it feels like it’s not you who have written everything – the superficial flailing and the capslock abuse. It actually came to a point when I loathed the person who wrote that trash. With these in mind, I wanted to go away from that person, that character I have established online. Sure the flaily/spazzy entries, endless spamming of comments page, oh, and not to mention, more friends, are all in my previous account, but see here, I’m not interested anymore. My self-conscious self has decreased. I told myself I will cease to be that writer who tell stories because of the impact/comments she would get. Rather… I want to write for the sake of getting things off my (already) cluttered brain. Besides, what’s the use of having lots of friends when you cannot keep up with them, and vice versa, due to uncommon interests?

You guys might be freaked out by the lack of sparkly gay or handsome eyecandy in the overall layout and I see your brain flash the impression, “Hey, Mia’s gotten boring!” but I like how this has turned out. Minimal but with impact.

Hey, this is still Mia, the emergency room nurse who loves music, literature, Japan and all sorts of oddness, only this time more discreet in flailing and… more introspective.

So this is the start!

Fire.
-mia-