Electrical Circuits

1 | 28 July 2016

I am deeply sorry for not being active lately and for making it look like I forgot about writing. The truth is, I am so ashamed to have to say this but I recently faced the actuality of a writer's block. But do not worry, I have a new plot in mind and I'm determined to have to finish this book with that plot in mind. Hopefully, with your support. Thank you for still sticking with me. To make up for my lacking actions, the first chapter is dedicated to all of you who have not given up on me.

1 | 28 July 2016

               Life is made up of thousands, maybe even billions of moments. Each moment carries a fixed thought, a genuine feeling and a beautiful reaction. We all create moments in our lives — meaningful and trivial. Our minds are set on the fact that it holds the right to plan, to execute and to remember. We might not notice it but even the time you spent on the bus on your way home is a moment. You may not miss it now, but one day, you will start to miss the heavy air and rough-surfaced chairs of that public-use vehicle.

And in a moment, we feel and we choose. We are to freely feel and freely choose what to do with our lives from that point on. Moments are secrets we keep to ourselves. It does not only happen to only us as if it's something given only to some people. We have different versions that we would like to keep to ourselves. We fear that our moments may not be as what we seem it to be. Sometimes, our eyes deceive us and our hearts get far too ahead. At least, that's what I believe in.

Time flies by and memories do too. The memories created during that living moment. The longer they stay in your mind, the longer its time has gone, the more you slowly forget about it. Believe me, I know. You might think that you will remember that single moment wherein lights are unbelievably brighter and noise a little bit quieter but I hate to bring it to you, that moment that turned into a memory will rust in your brain after life decides to mess with you and time finally realizes it loves fucking with you more than you love fucking you.

I have a lot of moments in my life that I want to forget the day after its occurence — moments like the one I am about to have. During that moment, I get a spur of realization and a glass of the coldest water splashed onto my idiotic face. In my thoughts, I would wish that this moment be gone already along with the thousands of moments wherein I lost a sense of pride and felt the feeling of almost facing my lovely death.

"I just do not get it. What was so wrong with what I did?" I was inside the principal's office, again. For something trivial, once once once once more. This has happened for, let me see, in my five months of working, more or less 150 times. It could pass as a daily routine - a package that comes with my job, rather with my name as a teacher.

"I just do not see why handing out candies and chocolates during classes is something of grave matter, Mrs. Griffin." Something very BIG, alright.

"It is against the school rules to do such action, Miss Ricco. You know very well why. Should I explain further so?" Her gaze was mocking, almost challenging me into a duel. Gosh, this was so frustrating. And so childish.

I put my hands on my lap, "This isn't something personal now, is it, Mrs. Griffin? Like your husband trying to make me have sex with him, now is it? If not, enlighten me as to why this is such a grave matter for me to turn in my resignation letter because I am starting to get fucking pissed."

Her eyes twitched and she flinched on the mention of her husband's dirty acts. "Your anger and your language, both aren't allowed here. This is a place of innocence and purity for children may I remind you, Miss Ricco. Also, we have stated that we provide healthy and growing education for the children. You have violated more than one or three laws, Miss Ricco. Your choice of clothing is quite inappropriate too."