I admit this blog has been full of drama over the past days and weeks. To be specific, much of my recent posts contribute to my CRAYOLA series. Wait… this reminds me that I haven’t explained how and why I use of that word for my blogging series.
We all know that Crayola is that famous brand of crayons. However, what I’m writing under the Crayola Series are not obviously about those coloring pens. The word “CRAYOLA” was created by the Filipino gay community. In the Filipino “gay” lingo, CRAYOLA means crying. But why crayola? How do crayons relate with crying? The two different words were equated to each other simply because they sound alike. The Filipino gay community has this habit of replacing words that relate feelings and emotions with proper nouns. Instead of just saying “cry,” it was replaced with the word that sounds like “cry,” which led to “Crayola.” That’s the simplest and silliest explanation.
I started the Crayola Series after my failed attempts to seek for funding opportunity for my first research presentation abroad. My research was accepted by a prestigious university in Asia for presentation. It was a dream come true…..well just almost. I have been seeking for funding assistance from my institution and a government agency, who both claimed that they are willing to support research endeavors. Sadly, not all institutions practice what they preach. I have been crying over rejections and elusive funding opportunities. To tell you the truth, I haven’t received an exact letter of regret until this day. But by some accident, I discovered that our institution has no plans of supporting me. It’s a discretely deceiving approach that they are implementing. They would make me believe they are helping me. At the end of the day, they are all fake and empty promises. And in my opinion, this approach is worst than blatantly saying that my application is denied. They are torturing me with waiting, hoping and later frustration. The best!
The painful rejections came to me on two consecutive Fridays. After each weekend, I thought I will be “well” over the next days. Turns out, I am only “well” in my thoughts. I report to work and pretend that I have moved on. Deep inside, I am very unwell. I am still weeping.
God knows how I want to end this misery. However, I have learned that moving on from this downfall will never come in the fastest and easiest way. Moving on and letting go are the hardest. Rejection only brings the first stroke of pain. The real pain is felt and endured each day as I try to convince myself that life should go on.
As much as I wanted to end this Crayola series, my heart conveys a different message. When will I be able to end this series, I don’t know. As always, only God knows and only time can tell.