A Poem For The Ages

 

I miss the days when I was young. Inspired and ambitious. I wanted to change the world.

 

I miss the days when I was innocent and naïve. Unyielding, uncompromising. I stood for what I believe in.

 

I miss the days when I was stronger. Agile and functional. I went to all the places that I wanted to go.

 

I miss the days when I was a man. Able to stand for my own, accepting my responsibility with pride.

 

I miss the days when I was me. Shy and curious. Willing to learn and to try but to timid to move.

 

I miss the days when I was with him. When it was all smiles and laughter. It was one the days that I can say I was happy. Those days are rare.

 

I miss the time when I was able to make him smile. The sound of his laughter and the way his eyes disappears every single time. It was an achievement of the highest order.

 

I miss the days when we fought or argued. Feelings were hurt but the honesty and love was there. It was one of those rare days that I could say, I was at least honest with myself.

 

But most of all, I miss him. I miss his face, I miss his touch. I miss his kiss, I miss his hugs. I miss voice, I miss his mind. I miss his warmth, I miss his joy. I miss him so bad it hurts...

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.

"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."

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.

Another Boring Day At The Office

 

Another boring day in the office. I was browsing 9gag.com when I came across this post:

 

The first point touched too many nerves for my liking but I kept reading, because no matter how I feel about this post, it has a ring of truth in it. However, as one commenter expressed, words are easy, action is tough.

 

Numbers two to four is easy. I don't give a fuck about what people think even before when I was in school. That's why I don't have friends growing up. But whatever suffering and pain I've experienced before, it's all gone now, which proves number 3. And I think it's common knowledge that we're in charge of our own happiness, so that's a no brainer.

 

I would love to make peace with my past. I just can't. I don't think it's possible in my current situation. Number three says that the pain I inflicted on others would have already passed, given ample time, so the knowledge behind it is that we should forgive ourselves for our sins, I should forgive myself. Tough luck. If I do that, then there's a possibility that I will do the same thing to someone else. I'd rather suffer.

 

It's hard not to compare my life with those that's enjoying the fruits of their labors today. I tried not to compare. I tried not to look. But it's really trying. Knowing what I know, it just makes the first point so darn tough! I guess, we can connect number five and six together. Comparing comes with thinking. Over thinking that is. And I'm prone to that. I have to keep my mind in check to stop it from wandering. Another uphill battle but winning is possible. The trick is not to think.

 

And the last point. Smile. Laughter is easy but smile isn't. We smile because we're happy. We smile because we're at peace. It's hard for someone as conflicted as I am. But soon, I will smile, too. It's promise that I made to myself.

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 002

'Empty Conversations'

another day came and went.. 
full of empty conversations...
 
and as I lay my head to rest, 
I keep glancing, I keep hoping...
that maybe, somehow, someway...
a conversation will begin... 

one of substance, one of heart and soul... 

for my day was filled with empty conversations...

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.

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 :)

Almost

I went to his house today, like I did everyday for the past two years, so we can spend a little time together as we go to the office. It's usually marked with the usual pleasantries and temperature check on how things are and what's going on with each other's life. It's a great way to start each day.

Today was a little different. Today, we almost broke up. Almost.

There was an incident earlier. And it's not to say that it never happened before. I guess, it's my fault that I've decided to not get used to it by now. And no, it's not that big of a deal, but there's just something about tonight that I decided to not let things go. That's my fault too, I guess.

We took a cab together, but we didn't utter a single word to each other. When we arrived to our destination, he asked if I wanted to eat dinner. I agreed. Only to find out that I was the only one that's going to eat.

In all my years of experience and in all my relationships, the thirty minutes that we sat there, not talking to each other, as I finish my food, was the longest, most saddest time in the history of my relationships. It was simply too much.

We walked towards his office building in silence. No one seems to give in. No one seems to be the first one to say something.

When we reached the door, no words, just a kiss, he then walked towards the elevator. He didn't look back. He just kept on walking, and when the elevator arrived, he went in without glancing back...

Is this it? Is this how it all end? I got to say, it's pretty romantic. Like the one in the movies. No goodbyes, no tears, no drama, just a kiss. And that was all.

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.