KMN

I haven't written anything for a while. I mean to write but I just can't put pen to paper the way I used to be. And it's because I didn't want to write to begin with. I was under the impression that if I didn't write, then it'll just be inside me, and soon, it'll die a natural death. But the longer it goes, the more it corrupts everything in me. And I'm afraid that if I didn't do anything about it now, I won't be able to recognize myself the next morning.

 

I made a mistake of trusting myself.

 

I've been in this world for more than three decades and I've seen a lot of things growing up. I even experienced most of those things. That's why I was pretty confident that I know everything there is to expect, and in hindsight, I did know. It's just that even though I knew what would happened, I still took the risk. I still gambled. And it resulted in something that I thought is no longer possible.

 

I hate myself more than I could possibly hate myself for.

 

Who would have thought that someone as cynical, pathetic, pragmatic, pessimistic, and downright wasted as I am, that I could hope for something better for myself. I actually believed that there's a rainbow after this shitty storm that's currently drenching my life. I actually believed. I actually hoped. I actually saw redemption.

 

Then I fell... hard.

 

It's nobody else's fault but myself. I allowed myself to feel something that I shouldn't in the first place. I opened myself up and brought down my walls. I showed my true self. And in return, I actually thought that I was doing the right thing. And no, I didn't do all of that because I already felt what I felt. No. I did that because I thought it was the right thing to do. Apparently, I was wrong. Because in doing so, I felt something.

 

Goodbye is never easy.

 

I had to pull myself up. I had to turn my back away. I had to do something, anything, to avoid anymore pain. I could endure hurting myself, both physically, emotionally, and mentally, but I could never forgive myself for hurting the people that I care about. And so I have to leave. I had to say my goodbyes. Because staying will only mean hurting them. Yes, I know, leaving could hurt them, too. But the pain is lesser compared to my staying. Because I know myself. I'm an evil person. And I will not stop to get what I want as long as I am around. So I have to leave. I have to go.

 

Redemption is not what I'm after.

 

It might sounded as a good deed, me leaving. Maybe good for the people involved but definitely not for myself. Because this here, leaving, it's killing me. Slowly, painfully. And something inside me dies in every passing second. When the clock strikes twelve, there will be nothing inside me anymore. Nothing to redeem. Nothing to live.

 

 

 

I fell hard.

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Now it's time to get up.

Then And Now

 

I half expected that something will change... that something can change. I was wrong. Or maybe, and this is me being hopeful, I just running out of patient and something will really change, it's just that it hasn't happened yet.

 

I failed miserably in my effort to revitalize my life. Add to that my effort in making this blog exciting was an epic fail. There's no one else to blame but myself. I made a choice, a poor choice, that led to my life being caught in a vicious cycle of despair-anger-hope-crash-despair, that there seems to be no end in sight. Which gave me an idea on how to post on this blog, moving forward. 

 

'Ganito Ako Noon, Heto Ako Ngayon'

 

It will be a look on how I was before and how I am now, bearing in mind that the situation is the same as before. It'll be like, when I gambled before I felt no remorse, nor guilt, because it was a conscious decision that I made. That was before. Today, when I gambled, I felt shame and hate. I still made the decision to gamble but the proudness is no longer there. There, something like that. A point of comparison on a younger self, and a way to see if there was a lesson learned, or maturity of any kind. A form of self assessment, with hopes that in time, I will be able to say to myself, 'hah! look, I did that! A form of redemption, a path to self reclamation, a beginning of change of how I change my fate ends.'

I Just Commited Murder

 

OK, just to clear it up, I actually, didn't kill anyone... yet.

 

Earlier today, I became a blood donor. I've always wanted to do it. That's why even though the schedule for our office blood drive was way off my office schedule, I made an effort to be there, just so I can give some of my blood away.

 

That's a good deed right? Well, I'm not entirely sure.

 

Before they took my blood, they asked a bunch of questions that I didn't answer with complete honesty. In short, I lied.  That's how bad I want to experience this 'blood donation' thing. And in the course of doing so, I may have killed someone, in the near future.

 

One of the things that they asked was about medication. I told them it's been months since I last took one, but in reality, it's just been a couple of weeks. And it's not just any over the counter meds, they were antibiotics with penicillin content. They told me that I can't donate my blood until it's been a month from the last medication I took, so I lied. That means, there's a slight possibility that my blood still has some left over penicillin in them, and if the worse is to happen, that blood will be given to someone that's allergic to penicillin, boom, instant death.

 

I also lied about having any medical procedure. I had a tooth extraction recently, hence the reason for the medication. And in one of the question, they specifically asked about it because the anesthetic medication would take at least thirty days to circulate out of my body. And the anesthesia that I requested for my dentist to use why high grade, meaning it is definitely still in my system. Boom, another instant death.

 

Knowing the potential risk of killing someone with my 'bad blood', I still proceeded with the donation, without the knowledge of the PRC (Philippine Red Cross) or my office. The idea of killing someone was just so mundane for me,, when compared to finally experiencing the thrill of donating your own blood.

 

Call me a psycho. Call me a killer. It just doesn't matter.

 

I'm such an evil person :)

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 006

'Not So Serious'

I spent the entire day cooped up in my room, hugging the bear that boyfie gave me while savoring the last hours of my rest before going back to work. It's been a total waste of man hours yet for some reason, I feel that it's not a waste at all. That for one reason for another, I actually achieved something. What's that though, I do not know. What I do know is that today was a good day for not being serious.

Overdue (Re)Introduction

Hello hello hello!

 

I've been planning on introducing myself, yet again, but there's been a lot of things that's going on recently that I had to prioritize. That being said, even though this post almost didn't make it to this blog today, I promised myself that today is the day that I put this here.

 

What is 'this' exactly? 'This' is a post containing information about yours truly, conducted in an interview fashion (by myself as well, such a loser!) in order to bring some semblance of order to this blog. So without further ado, here is my stunning, provocative, extremely overrated, self interview!

 

Hi, please tell us your name, age, location, occupation, and to those who believes in astrology, your star sign.

 

I'm JeKi, not my real name of course. 32 years old, not too old, not too young. Lives in the 'garbage city' part of the metro. Works as a callboy at night in one of the disputed areas between Makati and Taguig. I'm a Sagittarian.

 

Why JeKi?

 

JeKi is a word play, combining my name and my boyfie's name. That's also the name of our dog.

 

Tell us more about your boyfie.

 

Boyfie's hot. Obviously. You know me, I won't settle for anything less. But seriously though, in more than two years that we've been together, he's been the rock that anchored my boat to make sure that it survives the storm that I'm currently in. But enough about him. This post should be about me. I'll let him answer questions about himself in a post dedicated to him.

 

That's nice and sweet. If he's your rock, what are you to him?

 

His ass? Lelz, I kid. I would like to believe that I'm his partner, in all sense of the word. But you better ask him when you get the chance to interview him.

 

Alright, tell us something about yourself that you haven't shared to anyone, including this blog, that you think is interesting and worthwhile.

 

This one is tough. I pride myself as an open book, so all that I can think of right now are things that I've already shared with someone. So let me just share that very few people knows about me - I've been studying how to play a violin. It's both hard and expensive but whenever I see JunCurryAhn, I can't help but be inspired.

 

Violin huh? I thought you are not a musically inclined person?

 

I am not musically inclined but violin players are so hot. I mean, violins are so powerful and flexible that it seems all encompassing, it's transforming.

 

Wow. Alright. You like violins and violin players. Besides those two, what other things do you like?

 

Movies, TV series, Online games, Books, Board games, geeky stuff.

 

Describe your normal day.

 

I wake up, prep up, go to boyfie's house, if it's a workday, we'll go together since our offices are just near each other, if it's a rest day, we'll just hangout. Then go home, either play online games or read a book. Sleep. Repeat.

 

And since this post is already too long, this is the last question for now. Why write? Why blog? What do you get from doing it?

 

I write because I need to write. Writing is an outlet for me. Thoughts that I can't express or say, I write. It helps me cope. It allows me to be the person that I need to be. And I do it here because my handwriting sucks. As my grade school teacher once said "I don't write, I create art"

 

 

There we have it. Finally finished with a 'short' reintroduction. Until next time.

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

Father's Day Blues

I don't have any kids or any people that I consider as my children so I'm definitely not a dad. I'm not a priest either so nobody calls me 'father'. But what I lack in certain aspects, I more than make up for in my appearance. Because even though I am not a literal 'daddy', I do look like one.

I guess it was inevitable. I am almost thirty three years old anyway. Most of my batch mates in college are now parents. All of my childhood friends are married, except for the one who's currently in a cruise as a waiter. He's a little 'special' so he doesn't count. Add to that that I am not good with kids. Probably because I do not like them.

Yes, I do not like kids. Don't get me wrong, I do get swooned just like any regular guy when I see a baby smile or hear them laugh. It's a feeling that I can't even compare to anything yet. However, I do not like to hear crying babies in a public area, or at home, or anywhere in particular. I do not like unruly kids. That's probably the reason why kids doesn't like me back. I don't care. As long as they stay away from me, I'm happy. But I digress.

Anyway, back to the topic. Yes, I am not a dad and probably will never be one. But I do look like a dad already. I have a 'dad bod' as people nowadays would like to call it. I also wear wire rimmed glasses that probably adds to the 'fatherly look'. That's why when someone asks my age, I always answer with a disclaimer - 'I'm 32 but I know I look like 42' and then smile at them.

Here's a funny story. This happened back in 2008 (I guess even then, I do look like an old guy!) I was at Krispy Kreme on a lazy Sunday, enjoying my hot cup of tea, while reading the morning papers, when suddenly, this crew gal came from nowhere, approached me, and said, "sir, happy father's day po!" and proceeded with giving me a free donut. I was surprised but just smiled and took the free desert (yes, I'm evil, I know). 

The following year, I went out for lunch with my childhood buddies at El Polo Loco in MegaMall. When we arrived, I barked my usual orders to my friends to secure a seat for us and to grab some utensils, then I went to the cashier to place our order. Yup, you guess that right! She told me I'll be getting half a chicken for free since it's father's day, and then greeted me with her smile. I smiled back and asked her how did she know. She told me that I was with my kids. MY KIDS! Fine, I'm the oldest in the group but I'm just two years their senior. I was aghast but of course, I took the free chicken. Payment for my bruised ego. LOL.

So there you have it. And to all the dads out there, who deserve to have a free donut or free half a chicken, thank  you, thank you, thank you!

Chocolate Rabbit

As I turn over a new leaf on this blog, I would like to start with reintroducing myself one post at a time. Actually, I had a plan on how to do the introduction with just one post but I'm too high to do it.

 

 

Yup, I'm high.

 

 

I'm high but not from drugs. Nope. I don't do that. I grew up with relatives that destroyed their lives doing drugs so even when I haven't tried it, I can state for a fact that it can't do any good to anyone. Just look at my family. Anyway, I am high. I ate too many chocolates.

 

I like chocolates. But I try not to eat them as often as I can. Sugar rush is a serious thing. Makes me hyper and horny. Yup, you got that right. Horny. Some people say spicy food is their aphrodisiac, well mine's chocolate.

 

I remember one time, after not having chocolates for more than a month, I ate a piece right after lunch. I locked myself in my room, and jerked myself to exhaustion. I think I did it like five times in less than 3 hours. I'm a horny rabbit. LOL.

 

There was this one time, while in the office, the client gave away sweets and chocolates. I ate one and after an hour, I excused myself from the meeting because I can no longer focus to the material being discussed. I rushed to the nearest restroom to release my pent up urge. Only then was I able to finish the discussion. So yeah, chocolates are bad. The good kind of bad.

 

So, you might be wondering, now that I had too much chocolate to consume while in the office, did I do it? The answer is a big NOPE. Because there is such a thing as too much. And too much sugar is bad for your boner. Trust me, I know. I'm feeling it right now. LOL.

 

Now, time to go ransack the fridge for more chocolates harharhar

Beginning Of A New Ending

It's past midnight and I'm preparing for work. Everyone in the house is still up, watching "Here Comes The Bride" on TV. I've seen the movie so I didn't give it much attention and just walked right past it on my way out of the house.

 

On my way to work, sitting inside a bus as it hurtled along EDSA, a lady argued with the conductor about the fare. Apparently, they were overpricing their tickets and those who are caught unaware paid more. Good thing she knows how much she should be paying and stood her ground. She got some of her money back.

 

Now I'm in the office, waiting for something to happen. There's no point in asking for more responsibilities. I tried. There's none. So I just sit idle while waiting for people to call. Wasting away like all the other days that I've been here. What a waste of talent.

 

I pulled up my blog. A comment from Sepsep. It's always nice to see someone comment on your work, especially someone like him. If you know him and had the privilege of reading his work, you'll know what I'm talking about.

 

And then my eye wandered to the very top of this blog. The banner and the title that I decided to use was shouting at me. Daring me. Glaring at me.

The Beginning Of A New Ending

the day I changed how my fate ends...

 

When I started this blog, I had a purpose. I had an idea. A new beginning. A new ending. A new me. Funny thing is, that I've been drudging on like a drone, feeling hurt, downright depressing, and someone of a downer... someone I've always been, a complete contrast to what I was trying to achieve here. I've lost my focus. I've taken my eye off the prize.

 

I'm suddenly reminded how the characters in the movie I mentioned above got their second chances and what they made use of it. I'm reminded of the lady in the bus that stood her ground and fight for what is rightfully hers. And I'm reminded of how Sepsep keep on telling me about redemption and such. That this blog can be better. That I could be better.

 

This blog should not be a reminder of the past but a beacon of light.

 

It is time to change the course of things. Though it had a rough and bumpy start, it's time to create a new ending. Fate has given me another chance. I intend to take it.

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.

Of Views And Perspectives

Not too long ago, I met a guy named Trip. We we're both bloggers and in a committed relationship and we both wrote about our sexual exploits, the parallelism ended there. We have different approach when it comes to writing and life in general. He often points out that though our blog contents were the same, his is leaning more towards morality and guidance while mine tends to just be that, pure, raw, lust. To be honest, I never really saw the moral in his posts. But hey, that's his opinion so that's that.

 

As time goes by, I started calling him "Master Trip" just for the heck of it. Other bloggers joined in and he started calling me his "Apprentice". Though I didn't plan on anything more than a mere empty jest, I got to admit, I actually liked the idea of being an apprentice. And so begins our mentor / mentee relationship.

 

He thought me how to become cynical. He would disagree, of course. He doesn't like being tagged as someone who teaches cynicism but that's the truth. He also taught me that everything is relative, and as such, truth is relative. My truth may be different from his truth, and so on. Kind of mind bending shit but it works. He made sure that I remain critical about everything and anything. And that every story has more than one version. You may have heard the saying that there's three version? Your version, Their version, and The Truth. Trip has a different approach. There's actually nine - Yours, What you think theirs is, Theirs, What they think yours is, What we want people to know, What they want people to know, What people perceive, What people believe, and What people would like you to believe. He taught me all of this things without actually teaching them to me. He just showed me the way. And for that, I looked at him as my life coach.

 

He also share his views on relationships and his version of what cheating is. Views that I share and agree to up to this day. It's a very long story. Maybe I'll save that for another time. I have a different side of the story that I wanted to share today.

 

As my life coach, he became the person that I go to for everything that happened to my life. relationship issues, work problems, family feuds, everything. We will just sit in his couch, drinking beer, him listening and me talking. It's always been like that. I've learned a lot. He was not selfish with his experience and knowledge. Though looking back, and I just realized this a few days ago, that there was one topic that he never shared with me. His own problems.

 

Today, I'm wondering why. Recently I've been given the chance to be a mentor myself. And I started sharing my own problems with the kids that I'm trying to guide. In my mind, this is needed to appear more human and gain more trust. But it also opens myself to pain and sadness. I wonder, is that the reason why Trip never crossed that line with me...

 

We haven't talked for a long time. There was an incident that shattered our bond. I plan to reach out to him soon. ask him why he never shared his problems and struggles with me. because right now, I'm confused and I needed some answers. and he's the only one who can answer them.

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 :)

And So We Try

I'm taking a break, probably a sabbatical, from sharing sad stories of my past. I was told I was bringing everyone down. Before, when I write sad stories, people were happy because then can find life lessons in them. Now, it's just sad. And so I will stop.

 

I've been churning out posts day after day, quite recently. I do not know where the motivation came from but it's certainly helping in managing my anger issues. Writing relaxes me. It soothes my mind. And so I will write.

 

I wanted to write something funny. But from I've been told again and again, forcing yourself to be funny doesn't result to humor. For some reason, the people you're trying to impress with your sense of humor could tell that your jokes are forced. So try as I may, I'm not a funny guy. And so I won't force it.

 

I would like to believe that I'm good in writing something inspiring, albeit serious, articles. It doesn't attract much readership like the funny ones but to those that do read them, I hope that I can touch their lives with some of mine and in return, I could be touched by theirs through their comments and suggestions. An exchange of ideas and experience that transcend the boundaries of space and time. And so it shall.

 

I want to say that I aspire to live, not to exist. That I aspire to make a difference, not be a bystander. Or that I aspire to be someone, not no one. Maybe should say I aspire to achieve, not to fail. Or like everyone, I can say I aspire to be great. there's all good and noble aspirations. But in reality, all I aspire is to be a better version of myself. And so I hope.

 

I've experienced existing instead of living. I've experienced living too. Living is better. I've tried to make a difference, or so I hope I did. I've been a bystander too, but that didn't end well for me. I was someone before and now I'm no one. Both have their advantages and disadvantages. My achievements in this life were because of my not-so-few enormous failures. I just kept getting up. And when I do not want to get up anymore, someone comes along to pick me up. Thinking about them makes me teary eyed. All those hopes and chances and opportunities that they helped with and gave me. And so I'm thankful.

 

I've written so many times how I hate myself for who I am and what I've done. I've been ask countless times why I can't forgive myself and try to move on. I wish that I can. I wish that I could. But that's neither here nor there. Because right now, what's important, for me at least, is that even though I can't find a way to forgive myself or find absolution for my past sins, is that I learn from my mistakes and try not to repeat the horrible things I did before. Because my doing so, though we can't change who we are, we can influence those who came after us, how to really live and aspire.

 

And so we should try. Try to aspire to live. To live to make a difference. A difference that inspires. An inspiration to give it a try.

 

Because sometimes, trying, makes all the difference.

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.

 

 

Irony Much?

Writing is hard. This is the fifth draft that I made tonight. I deleted the first four because I hate the fact that they contain nothing but blah, blah, blah, me, me, me.

 

When I write, or at least try to write, I follow the "Forrester Way" of writing that I got from the movie Finding Forrester.

 

                "No thinking - that comes later. You must write your first draft with your heart.

                You rewrite with your head. The first key to writing is... to write, not to think!"

- William Forrester -

 

And so I hack and peck the keyboard, typing continuously, letting the information flow. Then come back, read the draft from top to bottom, and relentlessly correct and edit each part. Tiring work but it's very effective.

 

Today, I will stray from that path and just say what I want to write about. Instead of writing stories and try to relate it in some convoluted way to what point I'm trying to get across, as if to appear mysterious and knowledgeable, I will say it plain and simple. I want to write why I am not a happy person.

 

I am not happy because I choose not to be happy. Like everything in this world, being happy is also a choice. I just choose not to be. Don't I think I deserve to be happy? I have to admit, there are those days that I thought I should be... that I could. Only to realize that I mustn't. Someone like me doesn't deserve to be happy. I deserve to suffer. I deserve to be miserable. I deserve to die.

 

But of course, nobody wants to be around all that negativity. Couple that with my need for human interaction from time to time, I've learned to put on a mask. A façade, if you will. I became someone else. Someone optimistic and with a sense of humor. Someone who laughs and has a smiling eyes. Someone who I taught people would like. Pathetic little me.

 

Now don't get me wrong. I do not write these things to get self pity. Take your pity and give it to someone else worth it. I do not need pity. I do not want it. But I do need some answers...

 

Writing these words made me wonder. Why, after more than 20 years of putting on the mask, did I decide to "out" myself? Why did I leave myself vulnerable and allowed people to glean the person behind the mask? I do not know the answers. First, I thought it was because I was being careless. Then I thought my mask is full of cranks and chinks that people are seeing through it already so there's no use to hide behind it. I really don't know. All I know is that lately, I've open up myself to this blog and to a few people. Very uncharacteristic of me. I shared too much information about myself in the last month than I shared in the last two years. What's happening to me?

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.