"G"

 

It started great. People talking, chatting, being merry, and happy. Information was flowing, and people are getting to know one another. It was a great day.

 

                                    G is for Good, when everything falls in place.

                                    G is for Great, when you are feeling awesome.

                                    G is for God, when you see miracles at work.

                                    G is for Grace, when you feel forgiving and kind.

 

Like any other time, a small group was formed. A group of like minded people, or so I hoped. A group of people that like each other, that sets to do more for one another and to those that they yet to embrace in their own circle. A promise of hope. It was a great day.

 

                                    G is for Group, when you feel included and accepted.

                                    G is for Guidance, when you feel inspired and mentored.

                                    G is for Gallant, when you feel knightly and heroic.

                                    G is for Gay, when you are happy in general.

 

As one would expect, it won't always be merriment and fun. There will be friction, there will be arguments. So rules were set, expectations were made, and one by one, the defenses of the people in the group, joined by their common likeness for one another, fell. It was a sad day.

 

                                    G is for Gauche, when you showed your true self.

                                    G is for Gratuitous, when you do things you do not want.

                                    G is for Gambling, when you put everything in the line.

                                    G is for Gruesome, when the situation turns from bad to ugly.

 

Smaller circles formed within the small circle. Talking behind someone's back became the norm. And the reasons and likeness for one another, were all but forgotten. Tensions occurred, and the group closed their circle from those others hoping against hope to be part of something revolutionary. It was indeed, a grave day.

 

                                    G is for Grave, when there's nothing you can do about it.

                                    G is for Grievance, when you feel sad and alone.

                                    G is for Goodbye, when you're leaving everything behind.

                                    G is for Gone, when there's no turning back.

 

 

 

 

 

"...and so we go, to another place, another time. A place where we are safe, a place where we are fine. We will definitely miss those who let in our hearts, those who we gave our love, those who we gave our trust. But there is no turning back... there's no turning back."

Lesson Well Learned

 

I reached out to my mentor last week. I still haven't heard back from him. I hope he's fine.

 

I've been bothered by a question that I wanted to ask him. I wanted to know why, in all the times that we were together, talking, sharing, learning, that he never shared or showed his own personal problems, not even once, to me. I only realized this quite recently, which means, that in those years that past when he was teaching me, I never once cared for him. I was a little shit of a git that only cared for myself.

 

I wanted to ask him why he never did share, not including his sexual innuendos and adventures, his own humanity. I was left wondering why? Was it because he thought that I will lose some of my respect for him if I see him as a normal person? Did he feel that by sharing his own problems, that it will take away the spotlight from my own issues? Or was it as simple as he didn't trust me enough to share his own burdens?

 

I wanted to know. I needed to know. Because right now, being as stubborn as I am, I went and tried to become a mentor myself. And thinking that not sharing my own problems to those who look up to me, is taking away something from that mentor-mentee relationship. But my problem is, it's not working. Not one bit.

 

So I guess, I got the answer for myself. That as a mentor, it's my job to help those who needed guidance. It's not part of my job description to share my own follies to them, because gods know that they are already stressed enough with what they are carrying. As the adult and the person with the most experience, I should have kept my own issues to myself. Doing so, would highlight the issues that needed to be addressed. Not my issues, but theirs. Because as a mentor, as a guide, as a muse, it is these kids' future that's more important. Not ours, and definitely, not mine.

Bored As F--?!

 

I've been in the BPO industry for more than a decade but I still haven't climb the ladder of success. I guess, moving from one company to the next is not a bad precedent. That, and my attendance issues.

 

I know my problem and that problem is myself. I don't think I have the right attitude. Plus, I get bored quickly. As my previous boss would always say, I'm a walking proof that talents are wasted with aimless people. I have the talent, I know how to use them, but for some reason, I choose not to.

 

Oh, I know I'm good. Actually, better than good. Let's say, for modesty sake, that I'm above average. But that doesn't mean I'm not expendable. I've proven that quite often enough to my own detriment.

 

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that my current job sucks. It's freaking boring. There's no advancement of knowledge and the pay is just enough to cover my bills. I could leave, yes, but after facing so many rejection in these past months, I think I'll lick my wounds for now, and settle into this job. After all, I can blog while waiting for my workload. It's just that it's so boring.

 

So boring, in fact, that I brought my origami papers at work so I can do origami whenever the boredom is almost choking me to death. Most of the time though, I surf the net for stuff. Did you know that one of the biggest/largest bat in the world can be found here, in our country? The species Acerodon jubatus also known as giant golden-crowned flying fox, is endemic to our country but is nearing extinction due to deforestation and hunting.  All of that I found out because I had to much time on my hands.

 

Another thing that I've been doing is scanning the world wide web for one of my long lost blog. I wrote something back in 2007 when I was in the process of withdrawal from the blogging world but forgot what or where I wrote it. It took me a good two days to find them. 'Them' because I actually found two. One that I wrote back in 2007, and the other one, back in 2009.

 

Please note that they are not so safe for work.

 

The Dark Lord Strikes Back

 

The Dark Room Returns

 

Reading them almost gave me cancer. The grammar sucks, not that I'm perfect now, but knowing that I wrote them and that I can't edit them anymore (I don't know the username and password for them) makes me cringe. However, that doesn't mean that I'm not proud of my work. I am. After all, it shows my psyche during those turbulent years of my life.

 

Well, that's it for now. I'm a little beat because of something that happened last night that disappointed me. Tomorrow, when I can feel a little more sunshine on my face, maybe I'll do a retro post for all the Project 360 that I missed and the two Origami Tuesdays that I didn't post. Well, maybe.

 

Cheers!

So What?

I was about to post the continuation of my sad story but decided against it. Though I already typed close to 200 words, I scrapped everything and went with this post instead. Because after everything is said and done, I can't changed the fact that I failed. That I relapsed into my gambling ways. That I've lost my entire paycheck in one sitting. That I've ruined my weekend getaway with boyfie. That, I now have no means to pay my bills or even buy food. Those are the facts and they are indisputable. But then again, so what?

 

So what if I failed?  So what if I lost?

 

At least I tried.

 

Now what?

 

Now it's time to move on.

 

The Sun still shines right? I'm still breathing. I can still fight.

 

I might have lost this battle. But I will win this war.

P360 - Day 003

'Unpublished, Unwritten'

"...there are words we mean to say, but we can not say, so we write them. but once written, we realize, they are not for public consumption, they are, your inner most thoughts, they are your soul, your heart. but what's written can never be undone, it can never be really erased. because even if we erase, edit, write over, or even delete what we've written, the paper will always remember. it will always hold its history silently, but it knows, because it is your soul that it held within its breaches. it is your heart that it felt. beating. bleeding. alive."

Trial and Effort

Ever since I started the "revival" of sort for this blog, I've been filled with ideas on what I wanted to post and share. There's some projects that I've been meaning to start for a few years now and I think this will be the best time to do so. Also, I've decided to have a "post of the day" on certain days of the week to have a certain "regularity". Not only will it be good to have a goal, but it's therapeutic as well.

 

Unfortunately, as much as I want to start it today, I will have to delay it for one more day. I've been bugged by a certain feeling, a certain emotion, that I just can't shrug. It's been bothering me for a couple of weeks now and I think writing it here, will somehow lessen the burden, if not completely remove it. So please, pardon the break on the happy lines, even for just today.

 

First of, I'm disappointed. For years, I've trained myself to be careful, to not to trust easy, and more importantly, to never expect anything. Expectation begets disappointments. And yet here I am, sitting in my desk, bored as fuck, thinking about nothing but how much disappointed I am at myself for trusting, for believing, for hoping, for expecting... I should have known better. That's why this line from one of Adele's song really gets in my nerve:

 

 

"...who would have known how, bittersweet this would taste..."

 

 

I do. I would have known. I should have known. I've been there way to many times. I'm so stupid to let my guard down.

 

And so I got hurt. Still hurting. Nursing my bruised ego like a little Chihuahua licking it's wound. And hurt, leads to anger. Anger that is both misplaced and unjust. Because I'm angry at those people that hurt me. I shouldn't be. I should be angry at myself. It was my fault to let them in. They just did what a normal, sane, individual does - hurt people. They're human and that's what they do. I just should have known better.

 

I know how can this be resolved. I know what I need so I can move on. But I don't want to do it. I'm scared. I'm afraid. I'm petrified. They had no idea that they hurt my feelings. How could they? I didn't tell them. I didn't share with them what irks me. They didn't know me. Because I didn't let them know me. But I did trust them. What a fool I've been. Trusting people who doesn't even want to know who I am.

 

 

I'm such an asshole.

 

 

 

"Each of us must confront our own fears, must come face to face with them. How we handle our fears will determine where we go with the rest of our lives. To experience adventure or to be limited by the fear of it."
--Judy Blume

Of Crossroads And Other Paths

"...Now I have come to the crossroads in my life. I always knew what the right path was. Without exception, I knew. But I never took it. You know why? It was too damn hard..."

- Lt. Col. Frank Slade, Scent of A Woman

 

 

I've been going through a lot lately. Don't ask me what about because I myself doesn't know what or why. All I know is that lately, I'm always tired, drained of energy, and some days, downright depressed. I've lost my appetite for both food and life. All I want to do is to lock myself in my room, day and night, waste away playing online games, until the day I die.

 

I've lost my motivation, my push, my will to live.

 

I'm merely existing. Almost flitting.

 

It could be depression. I don't know and I don't care. I just thought writing it here could somehow help. Or maybe this is just a call for attention that I think I deserve. Maybe.

 

I've been doing some thinking lately. Which is bad considering that I overthink everything. I oftentimes allow my mind to wander way far ahead. That's why I stopped thinking about many things for a long time. But having all this time that I have now that I have locked myself away from everyone, I can't help but think.

 

For the good part, I wanted to reinvent this blog. I have an idea of making it more light and fun. Though it will run contrary to what I feel usually, at least it won't be so heavy. I will try to inject humor to the tragedy that I will share. Again, someone that is not me. But it would be redundant if I write as who I really am in real life, someone who is boring, heavy to be with, full of drama individual. What's the use of having an online persona right? It's just it won't be me. It won't be me.

 

For the bad part, I've been thinking of breaking up with the love of my life, my current partner, my boyfriend, my one. I love him so much and it pains me to see him suffering because of me. Would he be hurt if I leave him, yes, he will be. At least I hope he will be. And then he'll move on. Compare that to being stuck with me through all this years, sucking up all his positive vibes and replacing it with my negative aura. Imagine living with a dementor as your partner. You'll be insane as all the prisoners in Azkaban. I don't want him to be insane. I want him to be happy. And I don't think I can do that anymore.

 

I'm on a crossroad of some sort. I know what path I must take. Will I take it? I don't know.  It seems to be too damn hard.

Hence, I write

I have issues. There are those that seems cute at times, and there are those that really needs help. I think I've listed them all down somewhere but to be honest, I'm sure there are a lot more issues and quirks in me that I myself do not know.

 

Hence, I try to avoid people. For one, I do not think that they will like me. I don't like me. I think it's just fair that I should not like them, too.  Another thing is I've been hurt countless times. Who isn't right? So I have this feeling of justice and righteousness to stray from people. It's called self preservation.

 

There are more reasons that I can think of that I will not write here. There's no use. Because in the end, no matter how much I hate them, I always go back to reality: "I'm human and I need my fellow humans."

 

I've tried being friendly. It doesn't suit me. I'm a boring guy. I don't make people laugh. And people who can't make people laugh are boring people. At least to most people. Because for me, funny people are entertaining, yes, but while they're making you laugh. What interest me more are those people that can make me think. People that can make me use my imagination. Someone that can make me say "why didn't I think of that?"

 

I've tried limiting my human interaction to a bare minimum. Talk when spoken to. Smile when needed. Shake hands when offered. Keep your head down. But being a talkative shit like me, I can't contain myself sometimes. Especially when I hear people say the wrong stuff. I'm such a know it all. Another thing why people hate being around me.

 

Hence, I stayed away from physical contact whenever I can. Thanks to the world wide web, I can quench my desire for human interaction to blogs, forums, and chats. The development of social media was a great milestone for people like me. I can see all their pictures and videos without languishing from all their tales, fishing for self approval (as if I am not like that hahaha). But be that as it may, I still end up longing for physical human contact. I'm gay that way.

 

Which finally brings me to my point (boy, these days, my introductions are too long!).

 

I mentioned before that besides blogging, I've joined a forum called Pinoy Exchange or PEX for short. There's a thread for the LGBT community that I just learned about quite recently. There's tons of information there that I gobbled up. I even saw a group in my area of employment that seems friendly enough. Though I'm happy enough to engage these people online, their increasing desires to do a group meet up captured my attention. For all their plans and desires, they can't seem to make one happen. It irritates me to no end. I mean, how hard could that be? So I set forth and make one happen. Much to my surprise, it was indeed hard. But after seeing their faces for the first time, all the effort and hard work were rewarded. Not that they are cute or anything. But they are a diverse group of people. And diversity always means information. I love information.

 

The meet ups became habitual. People from other groups mimicked what we did and were successful. I'm happy for them. But the fun of doing something that seems undoable faded. And the information the forum provided dried up. What's left are relationships that were founded during the meet ups. Friendships. Trust. People.

 

I got scared. I'm getting too attached. Pain from previous encounters hunts my dreams. Needless to say, I left without saying another word. Better to sever the thread that binds myself to these people before they can hurt me. It's painful and hateful. It's selfish and unfair. But my fear is real and the potential pain is just too much risk for me to continue.

 

So I stepped back. But those that I met and grew fond of, created a mobile group where we can all chat away from PEX. As usual, I'm part of it. I didn't have the heart to tell them that I no longer wish to be part of their family. Better that I just fade away without people noticing. That way, no goodbyes are needed. (reading this part made me realize that I think too highly of myself. As if the people in the group would actually care if I leave.)

 

I thought I made it in time. I thought I was able to cut the chains before I was in too deep. But I was wrong. I'm already drowning without knowing it. Because the pain that I was afraid of, it's real and it's here.

 

 

 

"it's nice to be needed until you are not. then you are cast aside, left in the corner, gathering dust."

- Toy Story 3

I'm Rare, I'm First, I'm Fucked

Ever heard of the Fermi Paradox? If you haven't, click here because you should!

 

I will not discuss what the Fermi Paradox is. The article in the link here is very well written and should be sufficient enough for anyone to understand what it is.

 

Now on with the program.

 

 

When I was a kid I used to think that I'm a unique and special individual. My parents and teachers said so. We have our own individuality and there's a special place in our society that only I can fill. What a noble notion. If only it were true. Like the great Tyler Durden said: "...You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else." - Now that's the truth. The sooner we accept that, the sooner we will find satisfaction to our existence.

 

Growing up as the first child, I have this notion that I will be the first to everything that my parents can offer. Apparently, that was wrong too. I was born to parents that are generous to a fault - giving everything away without thinking of themselves or  little ole me. But that was neither here nor there. When I got a little brother, they dole on him too much for my liking that I, like every little first born jerks, got jealous and hated my parents for it. Of course I'd blame my parents. Why I would blame myself or my little brother? Who can blame that poor innocent soul? Just one look in his eyes and you know he won't do anything bad. Yeah, I'm good that way.

 

Fast forward to today. Now that I'm old and understood people more, I've learned that I will be first to some, last for most. It will all be depending on their needs and wants, as well as, how good they are in prioritizing. Meaning, you're their number one because you're in front of them. That's a very good way to bullshit people. I know. I do that, too. Makes them feel important. Valued. Does that make me an asshole or a good person? I have no idea, and at this point, I just don't care.

 

Being in a relationship with someone, somewhat give you this feeling of being special, rare even, and that you're the number one priority. Until you realize that you are not special or rare or even the number one priority. It sucks big time. Yes, tantrums and fighting can help you cope with the idea that you should be at the top of the tier but after everything is said and done, we have to realize that this is an inevitable truth. Because our partners' lives should not just revolve around us. They can't just live for us. They are breathing, living, individual, that will soon hit the dirt like each one of us. They should be allowed to be with their chosen friends at the time that they feel that they should be, instead of being forced to accompany you to your friends. You can say that since it's important to you, that it should be important to him too. Well shit, how about what's important to him? Shouldn't that be important to you, too? So what if you bought tickets to a concert to surprise him? It's your fault that you asked him to not plan anything for that day while knowing full well that he will. So yeah, You're fucked.

And So I Write.... Again.

I'm sad today. I don't know why. I have an idea why but I really don't know the reason behind the general feeling of sadness I currently feel. I want to hide inside my room and cuddle some pillows. I just want to stay in bed all day or until this feeling of anxiety and depression goes away. Until then, I shall write. I heard/read somewhere that writing down your thoughts could help in alleviating some of the stress and tension one feels. Here's to giving it a try.

 

I want to do a lot of things and I hate myself for ruining every opportunities accorded to me. I hate myself for allowing pride and selfishness to destroy my hopes and dreams. I hate myself for letting everyone I know down, for letting myself down. I do not know how else to put it. I do not know how else to say it. I fucking hate myself.

 

Apparently, I don't know much. I thought I did. Or more like, I hope I did. No, that's wrong. I knew that I didn't know much. I was just confident enough that I can bullshit my way through things. Such is my gift and my curse. The power of the tongue. Be that as it may, I am getting tired of this shit. I'm getting tired period. I just want some peace and quiet. I just can't afford it. Because I was, and still am, eternally stupid.

 

I'm getting tired of people in general. In my line of work, we call it burning out. Usually, a trip to the beach, or a night out with friends should do the trick of rekindling the flames. But who am I kidding. I don't do fun. I don't do friends. I pretend. A lot. And then pretend some more. Because pretending is the only way that I know how to make people happy. Because if I didn't pretend, I'll be like a black hole/dementor that sucks away happiness from people just by being around them. The thought just made me smile. I'm an evil person.

 

I feel shackled. I feel tied down. I feel caged, unable to fly. I want to go. I want to travel. I want to see the world. But I've created the very circumstance that prevents me from doing so. I've shackled, tied down, and caged myself. Because I was stupid enough to believe in luck...

 

I will stop here. Obviously writing is not helping me in my current situation. The more I write, the more hate I feel towards myself.

 

 

I'll just go back to watching porn.

And So It Goes...

Ever wonder why some people always want to be around other people? I blame advertising and marketing for that. That made sure that when we here the word "alone" we would automatically assume that "loneliness" follows. One would disagree. After all, I'm a self proclaimed loner.

 

"I'm alone but I'm not lonely. I'm alone because I choose to be. I'm a loner."

 

Pretty cool line don't you think? Sounds like something a rock star or a cowboy would say. I've been saying that to a lot of people who misconstrued my lonesomeness to being lonely. I know lonely. I'm not lonely.

 

My brother and I were raised as sheltered kids. We're not allowed to go outside and play.  I did have fun with my little brother. After all, we only had each other to play with. I don't even remember making friends while in school. My mom always said that the neighborhood kids are bad people and we should not associate ourselves with them. If the neighborhood kids were bad, what more were these kids that live farther away, right? So I decided to keep to myself.

 

I met my first friend when I was 12 years old. A real boy I can play with that had the same interests that I do. Or so I thought. He's much more like my little brother. They both like music and art, I'm more into logic and puzzles. They're both into fun and games, I'm more into serious and adult stuff. I thought if I acted like an adult, I'll be treated more seriously and with respect. All I got was jeers and people not wanting to be my friend because I'm too serious. As my aunts and uncles put it, "the adult little boy".

 

I embraced being alone. I learned to love it, cherish it, accept it. I've decided that from that day onward, I will be alone but never lonely. I was 15.

 

Then I grew up. I hate growing up. Argh! Why do I have to grow up!?

 

I've met a lot of people. Some great, some, not so great. People with different personalities and different views in life. Some of them were loners too! And so begins a life, my life, with friends or as I would like to call it "the journey to not being alone".

 

And like how I embraced my lonesomeness, I welcome the warmth of companionship with open arms. I allowed myself to actually care for other people. I even loved, and continuous to love, some of them. As the song goes, I was just minding my own world without knowing what life and love is all about, and then they came, they took me out of my shelf, they brought the world to me, and without knowing, there I was so in love with them.

 

Oh if only the real world is like that. But it's not. Relationship ends. Hearts are broken. Pain. Suffering. Despair. Loneliness.

 

In all my years of being alone and then having someone to have dinner with, the most lonely, saddest part of my day, is eating alone. It's never the same...

"is it's so much easier to say you're antisocial, or claim that you just don't like people, or pretend that you just don't care anymore, than to admit how lonely and damaged you truly feel."

 

So we found ways to fill the gap. I turned to blogging and other social media platform. Sometimes I wished that the internet were available during my younger days. But then again, I would have written some really bad shit so I guess it's better this way.

 

 

 

P.S.

Here's a funny thought. All I ever wanted to write about today is why I decided to stop being part of the forum Pinoy Exchange. I guess I'll just write about that tomorrow :)

Of Angst and Anger

Angst

noun \ˈäŋ(k)st, ˈaŋ(k)st\

:  a feeling of anxiety, apprehension, or insecurity

- Merriam-Webster

 

I first encountered this word when I was about to alight the MRT. Some teenage girls were blocking my way so I said "excuse me" in my usual authoritative voice. They parted and let me through. When I had my back on them, one of them said to another, in a voice loud enough to be overheard: "ang daming angst lang".

 

Kids and their new word. Probably heard or read it somewhere. I smiled to myself as I walk away. I didn't know the meaning of the word but I can still remember the feeling I felt as I associated the word with anger. During those days, I can remember that I was always full of anger. I had no idea why but I'm basically angry about anything and everything. But upon hearing that word, it made me realize that I need to keep my temper in check and not to let it be evident in the way I speak. I tried and failed. Not more than a month passed after the MRT incident, as I was about to get off the elevator at work, a coworker said to me "wag ka masyado ma-angst". I was dumbfounded.

 

Yes, I could have said "excuse me" in a much more nicer way. I could have kept my mouth shut as someone tries to get past the line. Or I could speak out about anything and everything but without the angst in them (I'm using the word Angst here even though what I really mean is Anger because during the time, I really thought they are one and the same)

 

Ever since that fateful second incident, I was able to keep myself in check. I was able to learn how to control my voice and to keep my mouth shut. I was able to speak only after thinking it through. And I was able to communicate my disgust without the "angst". That's until 2 days ago.

 

 

Angry

adjective an·gry \ˈaŋ-grē\

 

: filled with anger : having a strong feeling of being upset or annoyed

: showing anger

: seeming to show anger : threatening or menacing

 

- Merriam-Webter

 

 

In the past couple of days, I've seen and heard myself becoming angry at the slightest provocation. Gone were the days of diplomacy and words of caution. The silvertongue that I've been using is now a thing of the past. Thinking about it makes me angry. Either I'm turning to The Hulk without the Gamma radiation or I'm just one sad individual who's lashing out to the world again, like in my teenage years. Ugh, how I hate myself.

 

As I write this, I'm trying to think back to the day that I lost my diplomatic touch. But as of right now, I really don't know. I really can't remember. I mean, it could be when boyfie stopped me from ranting whenever I'm with him, keeping my emotions bottled up. Or it could be when I got the rejection notice from a company I was trying to join and started plotting how I can get back at them. Or it could be the sad stories of people close to me and the inevitable feeling of being unable to help them. Or it could be the little things that I tend to ignore, piling up until they're too heavy to carry. It could be any one of these or none of these at all. I really don't know. I wish I can say that I don't really care. But this time, I do care. Maybe that's the reason behind the anger. Caring.

 

I've allowed myself to care for people. Something that I've tried to avoid for a very long time. I've even learned not to care for the fate of my own family. I don't even care for myself. Because having someone to care for, to love, who cares for you and loves you in return, it affects you, it changes you. It makes you want to protect them, even angry at yourself for not being able to. Anger that can make you lash out from time to time. Because caring, loving, it gives you a reason to lower down your defenses, show your true self, and even share a part of you with them. That's very dangerous. It's very risky. It's also very worth it.

 

 

The Dark Ages

Iba talaga nagagawa ng sobrang free time, lalo na sa work. Nakatungaga sa harapan ng computer, nagpapatay ng oras. Sobrang sayang sa talento ang trabaho ko ngayon pero magaan at maluwag ang mga Gawain. Kaya kahit wala pa sa kalahati ng sinasahod ko dati ang kinikita ko buwanan, pwede na. Ang importante lang naman sa akin, may hanapbuhay akong matatawag at may pera akong naiuuwi sa bahay. Nakaktawag. Parang wala akong pangarap sa buhay kung titingnan ang buhay ko ngayon. Marahil dahil naranasan ko na halos lahat ng gusto ko maranasan. Halos lahat. May iilan pa siguro akong gusto maranas bago ako pumanaw. Pero yung mga yun ay mga pawang luho na lamang. Kaya siguro hindi ko na din sila iniisip masyado.

 

Gusto ko umakyat ulit ng bundok. Medyo matagal tagal na din ng huli akong nakaakyat. Hindi na masyado kaya ng katawan ko ngayon. Marami ng iniinda. Gusto ko tumakbo ulit sa marathon. Pero kagaya ng una, hindi na din kaya. Gusto ko maranasan ang sky diving. Masyadong mahal at sobrang luho na sya sa buhay kaya hindi ko na lang iniisip. Gusto ko din subukan ang gun range at archery range. Pero kagaya ng sky diving, sobrang luho ang tingin ko sa kanila kaya tama ng manatili silang pangarap.

 

Naalala ko bigla yung panahon na kaya ko gawin lahat ng gusto ko. May sobra sobra akong pera at lakas ng katawan para gawin ang gusto ko. Sa sobrang tiwala ko sa sarili at sa katigasan ng ulo ko, pinagpilitan kong gawin ang mga gusto kong gawin kesa sa mga kailangan kong gawin. Nalulong ako sa sugal at sa panglalalake. Hangang sa naubos lahat. Hangang sa nawalang lahat. Nasa isip ko noon, madali lang kumita ng pera at dapat habang bata, magpakasaya ako. Hindi ko naisip na dapat pala, habang bata, dapat mag impok ako. Para pagtanda, doon ako mageenjoy. Dahil pagtanda, doon ako maraming oras. Sabi nga nila, nasa huli ang pagsisisi.

 

Pagsisisi. Ah, yan siguro ang dahilan kung bakit hangang ngayon hindi ko mapatawad sarili ko sa mga kasalanan nagawa ko sa ibang tao. Yung mga kasalanan ko kasi sa sarili ko hindi ko na iniisip. Pero yung sakit na nagawa ko sa iba, yun siguro ang hinding hindi ko kayang bigyan patawad ang sarili ko. Biruin mo, tumagal ang relasyon ko noon sa ka-live in ko ng mahigit tatlong taon na umaasa lang ako sa kanya. Sya ang bumubuhay sa aming dalawa. Alam kong nahihirapan na sya, alam kong nasasaktan na sya, pero wala akong ginawa. Ilang beses nya ko binigyan ng pagkakataon para bumangon pero binalewala ko lang lahat. Nagpalipat lipat akong trabaho kasi gusto ko "big time" ako ulit agad-agad. Pero ang pinakamasakit na ginawa ko sa kanya, alam kong hindi ko na sya mahal pero pinatagal ko ang relasyon namin. Masyado na kasi akong naging kumportable na kasama sya sa buhay na hindi ko na inisip ang sarili nyang kaligayahan. Iniisip ko na lang noon, maligaya naman sya sa akin kaya ayos na yun. Alam kong niloloko ko lang ang sarili ko pero parang mas mabuti na yun kesa iwan sya at lalong mawalan ako ng tutulong sa akin.

 

Bukod sa kanya, ilang kaibigan din ang niloko ko. Isa sa kanila ang kaibigan kong blogger na taga Saudi. Naikwento ko sa kanya ang problema namin sa pera ng kinakasama ko noon. Nagpasya syang tumulong dahil mukha naman daw akong mabuting tao. Kahit masakit sa loob ko, tinangap ko ang paunang tulong nya. Pero ng maubos ko yun sa sugal, kung ano anong dahilan ang inimbento ko para lang makahu ng pera sa kanya. Halos buwan buwan nagpapadala sya ng pera sa akin. At tuwing magpapadala sya, pinapatalo ko lang sa sugal. Puro ako pangako sa sarili ko at sa kanya na babayaran ko sya, na may inaantay lang akong "deal" na matapos at magkakapera ako ng malaki. Alam ko naman na pangloloko yun pero tinuloy tuloy ko lang. Nasa isip ko noon, kung mananalo ako ng malaki sa sugal, tapos lahat ng problema ko. Kaso, hindi nangyari. Huli na ng matangap ko na talagang walang nananalo sa sugal. Umabot sa mahigit tatlong daang libo ang nakuha ko sa kanya na sana'y pampagawa nya ng bahay ng magulang nya. Napakawala kong kwentang tao. At kung tatanungin mo ngayon kung nakakabawas ba ako kahit paunti unti sa mga utang ko sa kanya? Syempre 'hindi' ang sagot ko. Hindi lang dahil ayaw na nya ko makausap at makita. Hindi ko din naman sya kayang bayaran sa ngayon kahit paunti unti. Dahil sa ngayon, yung ibang taong pinagkunan ko ng malaking halaga noon ang inuuna ko bayaran. Yan ay kung may natitira sa sinasahod ko pagkatapos ko gumastos ng parang walang utang.

 

Gusto ko bang magbago? Syempre gusto. Pero naniniwala kasi ako na walang taong tunay na nagbabago. Maari tayong magkunwari na nagbago, mag adjust, mag adopt, sa kung ano mang sitwasyon natin sa buhay, kagaya ng ginagawa ko araw-araw. Pero sa paglubog ng araw at sa pagharap natin sa salamin, alam natin na ang mukhang nakikita natin ay isang hayop, isang halimaw, na aksaya lang sa espasyo sa mundo at dapat ng mamatay. Siguro, kapag namatay ako, baka sakali, mabawasan ang galit ng mga taong nasaktan ko sa akin.

Of Dreams and Reality

A new born baby, touching a man's face for the first time, and knowing that that man is his father.

 

A kid, sitting alone in the corner, looking longingly out the window, watching the other kids play.

 

A young boy, playing by himself, while all the others are laughing and running, because no one wants to play with him.

 

A student, passing a project with just his name on it, his classmates jeering and pointing, saying crude words of selfishness and disgust.

 

A young man behind bars, determined not to show his fears to the big angry man that took his shoes away.

 

Fear. Loneliness. Dread. Anger. Grief.

 

A picture of a brain, glowing. A voice, saying a radioactive 7 isotope was the key to reveal our oldest memories.

 

 

I woke up drenched in sweat.

 

What a weird dream.

Choices

I always thought of myself as someone who knows what he needs to know. I guess that's the reason why I love that quote from the movie Scent of A Woman, immortalized by the great Al Pacino...

"Now I have come to the cross-roads in my life. I always knew what the right path was. Without exception, I knew, but I never took it. You know why? It was too damn hard." - Lt. Col. Frank Slade

I don't know if I've written anything related to this quote before. I don't really care. Because right now, today, not yesterday, is what's important. Because today, I can finally write something again. Something that I thought I could never write again.

Choices. That's all it is. Everyday, we face choices that would either lead to our happiness or detriment. Choices that could harm others or keep them safe. Choices that once made, can never be undone. Choices. Life or death. Sickness or health. Choices.

People keep on saying that life is complicated. I disagree. It is not. Because at the end of the day, it all boils down into making choices. It's not even about making the right choice. There's really no right or wrong. There's only legal and illegal. All we have to do is choose.

I've made my choice a long time ago. A choice that led me to the path where I am right now. The path of suffering and pain. A path made of continuous peril. All because I chose to live "in the moment". I chose to do what I want and not what I needed.

 

While still in school, getting all As, I could have chosen the path of excellence. I could have chosen the right path - to stay in school and get my degree. The choice was in my hand. Literally and figuratively. I held the tuition fee money right there. But I decided to do what I wanted instead of what I need. I decided to live in the moment and be happy. Knowing full well that being happy then means suffering in the future. I already knew that but I just closed my eyes, said "fuck it" and soldier on.

 

For four years, I kept making the same decision over and over again. I could have stopped anytime and enroll but I didn't. Not that I couldn't but I just simply don't want to. Was it fear of ridicule or of something else? I don't think so. I was young and carefree without a fear in the world. All I know is that by the time they discover what I did, I'll be dead. I'll be gone. And the consequences of my action will be avoided.

 

But Life has something else for me. I was given jobs after jobs. Good, honest, well paying jobs. But I couldn't keep them. Whether it's because I decided to drown myself with bad vices or I just decided that I do not deserve such comfort. Honestly, I can't remember why I did it but I do know that I made a conscious decision that will put my job in jeopardy. And the people I worked with gave me countless attempts to redemption. I could have done it. I could have straighten up and become successful as they are now. Maybe it won't hurt that much when I see their success in FB. But I just laughed inside and continued what I was doing wrong. What a waste of talent and oxygen. I should have died when I was young.

 

As if giving me jobs to pick myself up out of the ditch that I dug myself in is not enough, I was also given friends that will help and support me. Great friends that to this day, are baffled at how I could have screwed up something so solid. That, and how I managed to deplete their bank accounts by continuously asking them for financial aid. I comforted myself that by naming them as beneficiary to my life insurance, I could somehow repay them. But I know better. I'm screwing them over for trusting me. I'm destroying the only thing that I have left. Reputation and trust. Well, at least the façade that I created that people adored. What a shame.

 

I was also not lacking in the love department. I have loved and been loved. They say that was the greatest achievement of all. You know what's  the worst achievement? It's not taking the love and shitting on it while destroying their names and reputation. It's not making the person you love cry. Nor is it making promises after promises while knowing full well that you won't be able to keep them. The worst achievement is not dying in spite knowing that you'll just hurt everyone you love with every breath you take.

 

I hate myself. I loathe the person I see in the mirror everyday. I want to kill the beast before it could hurt other people. Because for people like me, who've made their own bed of nails, there's no more redemption. I've given up hope.

 

Then I met this kid. He's a good kid. He thinks he knows everything. Which makes me laugh sometimes. I see a young me. Innocent and full of hope. But he's in the crossroads too. I could nudge him to the right path or could just sit and wait for him to follow on my footsteps. Because who am I to stop people from making the same mistakes I did? Who am I to say anything? I am no one. I am nothing.

 

"...Now here's Charlie. He's come to the cross-roads. He has chosen a path. It's the right path. It's a path made of principle that leads to character. Let him continue on his journey." - Lt. Col. Frank Slade

 

 

Kiddo, I know you'll read this. You don't see it yet but your going the same way I am. I might look like a good future, but trust me, it's not. I'm not.

 

 

"If I wanted you to be like me, I would be urging you to make a stupid, stubborn decision that blows up your life and leaves you lonely and miserable." - Gregory House, MD

 

"Life is pain! I wake up every morning, I'm in pain! I go to work in pain! Do you know how many times I wanted to just give up?! How many times I thought about ending it?!" - Gregory House, MD

 

Samaritan's Dilemma

 

"The Samaritan's dilemma is a dilemma in the act of charity. It hinges on the idea that when presented with charity, in some location such as a soup kitchen, a person will act in one of two ways: using the charity to improve their situation, or coming to rely on charity as a means of survival."

 

 

I grew up with a father that helps other people first before his family. I never understood the reasoning behind it. Probably because I never asked him why. I just relegated myself into thinking that perhaps, he thinks that we are more than capable than those that he helps. Though it was never the case, it got me through most nights.

 

As I grow older, I've adapted a philosophy I came across in a book. "I help not because I have plenty, but because I know what it felt to have none". It just hit me like a boulder. I never knew such words can reflect what I'm feeling inside. I never knew words can express what I had experienced and what I feel whenever I came across someone I think is in need of help. Until now, writing about these words, I can't help but feel a sense of awe. Such powerful words.

 

With the advent of social media, we came across a slew of articles that shows people helping other people almost on a daily basis. Whatever motivation they have for helping, whether they share it to the world for fame or for more humanitarian reasons, the important thing is that they helped. I helped a few times but I never mentioned it to a group or post it online until today. Because I encountered something that's new to me. My own version of the Samaritan's Dilemma or SD.

 

People that I came across with that I helped in some form or another doesn't fall under the "official" clause of the SD. They weren't asking for help but they clearly need it. These people weren't looking for charity from me. They were just trying to get on by themselves. Either too ashamed to ask for help or are had reached their limit of rejections for the day. In any case, I was just glad that I was able to help. however, earlier today, while having lunch with my partner after going the groceries, I saw an old lady, sitting by herself in the food court, munching on some bread sticks for lunch. By the looks of her, she had her entire belongings with her. She was not asking for alms or talking to anyone. She was just there. Sitting. Alone. Trying to pass whatever food she have for lunch with the help of a couple of glass of water. Her disposition tugged at my heart. I wanted to approach her. To ask her if she needed help. But I didn't. I held back.

 

Her demeanor, though showing weakness, doesn't translate to what people classify as "street people". Her clothes weren't torn nor dirty. The things inside her bag were properly tucked. I pointed her to my partner to get an opinion on the matter.

 

maybe she's just waiting for someone?

 

maybe. or maybe, she just doesn't want to appear to be a bother so as not to catch the guards attention.

 

do you think we should approach her?

 

I don't know. I don't want her to think that we look down at her.

 

I agree. She might think that we think too highly of ourselves to think that she needs help.

 

yeah, you're probably right. But look at her, she obviously needed help.

 

what do you want to do?

 

I'm thinking of buying something from Jollibee for her. Probably engage her in a conversation. Find her story.

 

yeah you can do that. But what if she doesn't want to be bothered? How can you be sure that she does need your help?

 

I, uhm... I don't know...

 

 

We went our way without approaching her. Looking back, I should have just approached her. Not to offer any help but just to start a conversation.

 

Huh. I guess it's not a dilemma after all.

 

 

 

 

Not Your Ordinary Tuesday

When I got to the gym last Tuesday, there wasn't much people. Which is actually good because I can do the workouts that I can never do when someone is already hogging a station. As I was changing in the locker, Red and Blue came in. They're already in their gym clothes so they just placed their valuables in the locker and went out. After them, came in White. He immediately stripped down to his underwear, without a care to the world, and changed to his gym clothes. He then quickly went out as if he's after the cute couple. I followed suit shortly.

 

White is a young professional, who likes wearing white. Hence, the name. He has a very athletic built and an exotic Asian face. What sets him apart is his glow. Yes, he glows. With skin as smooth as silk, and as flawless as porcelain, I'm sure if I get to touch and feel it, it would be like those of a baby - supple, soft, tender. He's the kind of guy that we seldom refer to as a "head turner".

 

Red is model, I think. I 'm not sure about his nationality but I think he's American. With stormy grey eyes and a shock of sandy blonde hair, he's definitely an eye candy.
He always sport a red top with  arm holes that goes to his waist. That's why the oglers can very well see his lean cut body, and his pinkish nipple. I heard some people refer to him as a Greek god.

Blue is Red's boyfriend. I think he's a model too. He has this pinkish to red lips and a five o'clock shadow that compliments his steely black eyes and puts emphasis on his squared jaw. If Red is a Greek god for some, for me, Blue is Apollo incarnate. One could even make a case that he's Narcissus or Adonis, because of his chiseled body and towering height. Yes, he's that hot. And like you guessed, he likes wearing blue tops.

 

I went to the dumbbell section and sat on a corner, trying to focus on what I'm supposed to be doing. Red and Blue joined me in the section but sat to the other side of the room, as if they already know what kind of distraction they could bring to a powerless human, like me. As soon as they are seated, four more people joined us. They sat in the middle of the section. They are like the sharks in the ocean that separates Blue and Red  from me. We're all lined in front of this giant mirror so we can all see that we're doing the exercise correctly, or so it would seem. From where I was sitting, it was very evident that the four "sharks" are just there to look at the couple. Yes, they're working out but only with minimal effort so that they won't be distracted from the show. Who can blame them? I won't.

 

As I was going through my dumbbell routine, Red stood in front of the mirror, lifted his shirt as if to check his abs. Time seem to stopped. The sharks stopped what they were doing and just looked at Red's abs in the mirror. The silence made Red conscious so he turned his back from the four and went back to his routine. I almost chuckled at the reaction Red got. Then, as if it was a competition, Blue lifted his shirt too. The ocean parted. The world stopped. And the sharks, who were contended to just see Red's abs reflection in the mirror, looked at Blue's directly. Oblivious. Obnoxious. I wanted to bash their heads with a dumbbell. How dare they look at him? He's mine! Well, at least, in my head.

 

Red seems to notice the commotion Blue's abs is causing so he tapped his shoulders to stop. And he did. But Red is pure evil and I hate him. When Blue turned to face him, he lifted Blue's shirt and touched his abs in front of us. He touched his abs! In front of us! He dare! I wanted to revolt, I wanted to kick is tight bubble shape ass! When I heard Blue chuckle at what Red was doing, it was enough for me. Even though I'm not yet done with my exercise, I left the section before I kill someone.

 

I transferred to the cable section so I salvage what time I have left for a proper exercise. But it seems Fate is playing his dice yet again. Blue and Red transferred to the abs section that's just near my area. Oh my! What temptation this couple is bringing! So instead of looking in their general direction, I focused on what's in front of me. There's White, sweating like a sex machine, running on the treadmill, looking towards... son of a biscuit! of course, he's looking at Red and Blue as they lift their legs in the air, showing everyone what powerful legs they have. Legs that you can sit on for hours and they won't complain. Legs that can help their thrust to be deep and powerful... Argh! Enough!

 

I decided then to finish up with the cable before anything more temptation comes my way. I turned my back from them but that brings White to my sight. How the hell does he manage to look so fresh even though he's full of sweat? And those skin of  his, they're just perfect. Ah, I'm getting distracted again. And so I lifted, I pulled, I pushed, and as I was about to finish, Blue stood, put his hands in his shorts, and repositioned his stick. I dropped the weights with a bang but that didn't catch his attention. There's already a commotion in the treadmill area. Someone seems to have lost his focus and fell from the machine. It was White.

 

I hate Tuesdays.

Random Ramblings #2

Are you happy?

 

I think I am.

 

Do you still see a future for us?

 

I think I do.

 

Do you think we can move forward?

 

I think we can.

 

Do you still love me?

 

I think so. Yes, I think I do.

 

 

When we try to convince ourselves of what we think we should be feeling, and we did get ourselves convinced, how sure are we that we really are feeling that way? How sure are we of anything?

 

I've read Simon's and Maktub's recent posts. Full of emotions. Full of reality. At least, for them. Does wanting that same kind of reality makes me a romantic or an idealist? Sentimental? Can I be all three? I don't think so. I can't be both.

 

Sentimental and romantic. Both words I heard people used to describe me. And those same words were used to point what I lack. How ironic.

 

I'm in a dilemma. I'm in a crossroad. I'm afraid. I'm scared. I'm terrified. I'm petrified. I can't move. I can't think. All I can do is write...

 

Write of the past. Write of the present. Write of the future. Write all the ideas that I can find and as far as the imagination can fly. For with written words, we can feel secure. We can feel safe. We can feel... love.

 

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think. I don't know what to feel.

 

because right now, I feel alone.

Busted

I really thought the day would never come... wait, who am I kidding, I always knew this day will come. It was just a matter of time.

Apparently, my boyfriend, my partner in life, knew about this blog's existence for quite sometime. He just didn't say anything about it. Not until today anyway.

He was hurt. Still hurting. I can't say I blame him for hating me. I did write some things here that, well, let's just say borders social conventions of what a relationship should be.

Today's the fourth time that our relationship suffer such a crushing blow in it's two years of existence. I would enumerate them all but I do not have the energy to do so... Let's just say twice it was my fault, twice was his. Today's mine though. And I hate myself more than the usual.

I could have denied it. I could have lied. But I made a promise that I would never lie to him. Yes, an arguement can be made that keeping a secret is lying by omission. Good thing he would disagree with that.

He has his secrets and I respect his privacy. I was an open book to him from day one. I never pretended, I never held back. But there were just those things that I can't talk about without writing... hiding behind the anonymity of the world wide web. Sharing my thoughts to others like myself.

The thing is, I never intended to hurt him. I never intended to hide things. Things just happened. I know, it's a lame excuse. I should know, I'm very good with excuses. Used them my entire life.

He will read this. He will probably hate me even more. Talking to faceless people instead of him... sharing my thoughts to people other than him...

Ah, I'm babbling. I was stupid and I knew it. I hate myself. I love him and I want to spend my life with him.  I know he wanted the same thing too. I just keep on making it difficult for him... what a shame.