Prozac for Everyone

When our class brainstormed for our pharmacology project proposal, nothing came up but a website and a documentary. I suggested a Free Prozac for Everyone Campaign but nobody took me seriously, like they always did by the way. Well, yeah, I wasn't serious. Actually, I was thinking more of pushing through that documentary with less documentary and more indie short film kind of vibe and upload it on youtube but they shunned my opinion. again. I was serious that time- and near genius! But tarpaulin it is.
How about accepting things for a change? I asked myself. Instead of pulling a Simple Plan whine on how the world sucks, why not try to pull an Alanis and rock that hand in my Pocket optimism? Uh, no thank you. Moreover this isn't about that project. I couldn't care less about that thing. I've never been the academics kind of guy anyway.
This is more about the things I just have to accept because I couldn't do anything about it. Kind of like the effect of fascism imposed way back in this country. Take Ma'am *e**** for example. She abused me verbally. She made me feel stupid and got me all misty (secretly, of course) and I couldn't counter that unless I want to get booted off the College of Nursing. It's not like her temper or "accidentally" pricking of some students with syringes or her (citation needed) favoring of fellow Chinese girls will give her the boot. I'm just an ant against an ant bully and all I could ever do is blog about it. Words of Sarah Silverman from the 2007 movie awards, "She needs structure. She needs someone who could take some time to tell her that she's one rude little pig." should have been made for her.
Then there are my house mates. Until now, I'm still wondering if they were taught of as kids the word cleanliness because their spoiled food always remain in the fridge for months, theirs dishes left unwashed on the sink and clothes whether clean or not, scattered everywhere. I live in a pigpen in plain english. Too bad I don't do other people's dirty work. I'm proud to be squeamish. Hey, if you found out that your underwear was used by your house mate, who wouldn't be?
Last is the weather. Last weekend, I found myself walking to the other slide of the landslide and did all that only a few hours after my minor toe operation. Hey, that is no ordinary feat when you have to traverse mud, rocks, water and kilometers of queueing vehicles. I could only pray for my wound not to get infected.
How's that for an experience. So can you blame me if I think I need Prozac?

shh...shut up.

If there's one thing I realized yesterday, aside from how bad that June 3 went, is that I'm not the quiet person I always thought I was. It was like having thinking-you-were-Kurt Cobain-only-to-find-out-you're-Mo Twister moment. Scary, huh? And it ain't funny by the way. More like a horror movie to me.

It started last saturday. I was asked by someone who works in the library to shhh. I could only utter a yeah, whatever in return. I swear I wasn't noisy. I was just talking.
Yesterday, another shhh came from someone in a form of a cheap, self-righteous skank. The nerve! Go work in another corner you whore. You ain't getting caned by me I tell you. Try to study and come back when you're finally smart to me doing that Belinda Bright shh...she walks by night pose. I might avail your services. That''ll happen after a hundred years, right? I swear I wasn't noisy! I was just talking. If she had the authority, I wouldn't be fussing about it right now. But, no, she didn't. So another yeah,whatever from me.

Later that day, I finally got what I asked for. During pharmacology, the level 4 coordinator had a speech concerning male-to-female chit chats and how she hated it. She was referring to me! That was embarrassing, considering I didn't really know a thing in pharmacology. My bad. Well, at least that day taught me something new about myself.